Disclaimer: I don't own The X-Files nor the characters. I make no money from this.
Warning: Character Death. Weird AU things.
Author's Note: This takes place first in December 2012 and then much, much later.

"If I have to search for a hundred lifetimes, I will find you again."
—Radames, Aida

"Scully."

Mulder crossed back over to the array of blankets he had set her down on. She was growing pale, growing cold, and he needed her to still be with him.

"Hm?"

Scully looked to him, the right eye never opening fully. There was blood still trickling from the cut on her forehead and her chest felt sharp and tight.

"We've gotta go."

He knelt down beside her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Her eyes were still on him, the fear he had recognized earlier was no longer there. She was calm now. She had accepted what was to come.

"You can go," Scully told him.

Mulder shook his head. "Not without you."

"No," she replied. "Mulder. You need to go, you need to stop this. We are so close and... You have a chance to fight it."

"Not without you," he said.

She winced as she breathed in. Her ribs were broken, she was sure, and she knew there had to be other internal injuries that would explain her current state.

"It's an easy decision." She gave a short nod. "Me or the world?"

"You," he immediately answered. "Always you. Every time."

It killed her for him to be so earnest, so determined to not give up on her because there wasn't much time. She needed him to see through the fog and continue the task they began.

"Think of all the people still out there." Scully took his hand within hers. "All the innocent people. William." She swallowed hard. "Go to the rock. It destroys them. You can end this."

"We can end it," Mulder insisted, giving her hand a squeeze.

"If you pull me along, you know we'll never make it in time," she pointed out.

"I can't leave you."

"Mulder."

She waited until he made eye contact.

"You need to go," she said.

His eyes were tearing up. "I can't..."

"You will."

Scully reached for him, despite the pain, and he moved closer to her, his lips meeting hers.

"I love you," she whispered once they broke from their kiss.

Mulder held onto her a little longer before gently setting her back down on the blankets. He stroked her hair away from her face, eyes locked with hers. He leaned toward her and kissed her once more.

"I love you."

He wasn't there when she died. The walls caved in around her shortly after her death, leaving her free from suffering beneath rubble until she took her last breath.

At the time of her death, he was on his way to the mountainous rock that held the power to destroy the beings destroying his world. He had enough explosives to expose the source that he hoped would take a huge step in fighting back.

When he reached his destination, there were thick clouds of smoke billowing toward him. They were advancing. He set up the explosives, he was ready for them.

And as he saw the figures begin to speed toward him at the edge of the horizon, he lit the fuse. He forfeited their earlier plan of escaping the explosion because it didn't seem like such a big deal without her.

He watched the ultimate enemy approach as he waited for his end, Scully being the last thought on his mind.

"The souls come back together. Different, but always together... again and again... to learn."
—Fox Mulder

There he was, where he always was. It was well after one in the morning and she had stayed late reading papers. But, she stopped in the library and would never have admitted it was just to see if he was there.

As she approached the table covered in books and notes, the dark haired man didn't look up. He was engrossed in his work, as usual.

"Fighting a cause, Mr. Sheldon?" she asked, standing across from where he sat. "You always seemed to be after one in my class."

He smirked up at her, the first person he was seeing in over two hours.

"I thought we settled with Dexter, Amelia," he responded, raising his eyebrows slightly.

"Professor," Amelia corrected.

"Professor Amelia." Dexter nodded just a touch. "Right."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Professor Hicks. I don't like to be disrespected."

"No disrespect intended," he replied, holding up two open palms. "I just thought we'd start early with the informalities. After all, I plan on teaching here one day, too."

"And what would you be teaching?" she asked. "Your crazy ideas of the government covering up our past transgressions?"

"Of course not," Dexter answered. "I'm going after disproving your teachings."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me?"

"Sit." He indicated the empty seat across from him.

Amelia frowned, but pulled back the wooden chair and sat down. She enclasped her hands on the table, her green eyes locked with his dark ones.

"Disease, suffering, infections," he rattled off. "Some of these are man made." Dexter slid an open book toward her. "And have you heard of this? Black oil."

She shot a glare at the book before raising her eyes back up to him. "That's a myth. There was never, and will never be, anything close to the black oil you've so diligently researched."

He smiled slightly. "Never say never, Amelia."

"Mr. Sheldon—"

"Dexter."

Amelia stiffened in her chair before addressing him, a challenge in her tone.

"Prove me wrong. Prove to me the government is hiding our past. Then, maybe we'll start with the informalities."

She stood from the seat and pushed it back into the table. His eyes were on her.

"Would you like to get coffee with me?" he asked.

A hand went to her hip as she cocked an eyebrow.

"I'm not your student anymore," Dexter went on. "And considering the fact that you're not even a decade older than me, it's not so unreasonable."

"Are we going to be talking about theories and conspiracies or did you have other plans on your mind, Mr. Sheldon?" she responded.

He gave a shrug. "Guess you'll have to go to find out. Tomorrow night. Eight. Delia's Coffeehouse. You know where it is?"

"I do," she replied.

"I'll see you there, Amelia," he said. "I'll introduce you to some truth."

She eyed him up, giving him a small smile, before turning around and leaving. Dexter smirked to himself as he watched her walk away.