This chapter contains spoilers for Memento Mori.
Scully stirs as she hears a gentle tap at the front door, but makes no effort to move. She couldn't answer it even if she wanted to. She's scared to move - her head feels as though it's about to explode, she's just recovered from a gushing nosebleed and she's pretty sure that if she even attempts to sit up, she'll pass out. Her doctor has warned that the headaches will occur more often now, but Scully didn't expect them to get quite so bad so soon. There's the option of painkillers of course, but they're just a temporary fix - they just numb the pain for a few hours until Scully almost forgets she's dying. And then they wear off and reality hits.
She's pretty sure she knows who her visitor is anyway - it's the same person who's already called her twice this morning, at least until she switched off her phone, the shrill ringing of her cell doing her headache no favors. As she hears another knock, Scully takes a deep breath and, as loudly as she can manage, calls "use your key."
Silence, then moments later she hears the rustling of keys before the visitor finds the one they need, inserts it into the lock and opens the door. Mulder stands before her, his expression a combination of worry and relief as he spots her on the sofa. No doubt he panicked when she didn't answer her phone she thinks, and there's a part of her that feels guilty for switching off her cell.
"Hi," Scully says softly, giving him a weak smile, instantly regretting it when she feels her stomach lurch. She takes a deep breath, trying to keep the nausea at bay.
Mulder closes the door and is by her side in seconds. "Are you ok?" he asks, reaching out to cup Scully's flushed cheek. She leans into his touch without even realizing as he kneels down beside her.
"I'm..." she stops as she sees Mulder prepare himself for her denial. She's too weak to pretend right now. "...just having a bad day," she admits.
Mulder nods, running his fingers through her hair, and Scully is relieved to see that there's no pity in his eyes - just understanding. Since she broke the news of her cancer to her family and friends, they've been looking at her as though she's a ticking time bomb ready to go off. Now when they look at her, their eyes just see Dana Scully - cancer victim. But Mulder sees her just as he always has. Yes there's concern when she gets a nosebleed in the office, especially after that one time when she passed out in the ladies' bathroom, but Mulder still treats her like an equal. She can almost forgive him for checking up on her. "Anything I can do?" he asks, and Scully shakes her head in the negative, feeling nauseous once again. "Can I get you anything?"
It takes a lot of effort, but Scully manages to reply. "I don't think I can keep anything down."
Mulder frowns, his fingers still brushing through her hair. Scully hums, thinking to herself that if he keeps that up, she's likely to fall asleep. She carefully rolls onto her side and curls into him, feeling his breath caress her ear as she closes her eyes.
"Do you want me to take you to bed?"
Scully huffs against his throat. "If that's your idea of a pick-up line..."
Mulder grins. "I promise you I've got better. Besides, I'd buy you a drink first."
"Mulder, don't make me laugh," Scully groans. His smile instantly vanishes.
"Where does it hurt?"
"Everywhere."
"Should I call your doctor?"
Scully opens her eyes to shoot him a glare.
"No doctor, I got it."
"Just keep talking. It helps me take my mind off the pain."
"You always told me that my voice caused you pain."
"It does. It does." Scully sighs. "What are you doing here?"
"I called earlier to see if you were up for going out to lunch."
"I switched my phone off."
"I noticed."
"I'm sorry."
"It's ok. It can't be helped. Oh!" Mulder sits back and reaches into his jacket pocket. "I've got something for you."
Scully's eyes follow his hand. "What?"
"Just a little something." He waggles his eyebrows and Scully smiles, relieved when she finds that it doesn't hurt.
"A gift?"
"You could call it that."
"Mulder, you don't have to buy me gifts," Scully protests, feeling tears cloud her eyes. Ever since her cancer was diagnosed, 'Get Well Soon' and 'Thinking of You' cards and flowers have arrived on practically a daily basis, and she's not sure she can take any more sympathy.
"Call it an apology for the expense reports I made you do last week. For the last four years actually," he says shyly as he hands Scully an envelope. With all the energy she can muster, Scully takes it from his grasp and opens it. It's not a card she notices with relief. It's a -
"Mulder." Suddenly wide awake now, she reads the piece of paper she pulls out of the envelope. "You've booked me a flight?"
"Not just you," he says. "I booked us a flight."
"To New York?"
"We should be in town for the Yankees' final game."
"But Mulder," Scully protests. "It's in September."
"I know," he says, matter-of-factly, and realization sets in. He's brought her a ticket for September. He has faith that she'll still be alive and fit enough to travel in September. Tears spring to Scully's eyes.
"Mulder -"
"See," he begins. "I want to go to the game, and I want to go to the game with you."
"Mulder, we both know that I can't. I'm dying."
"Well, I suggest you don't die Scully, because we have a flight booked, and a hotel too, and I don't really want to go to the game with Skinner."
"Mulder -"
"Don't waste your energy arguing. Scully, don't give up," he pleads, taking hold of her hand and squeezing it. "I'm not ready to say goodbye. There's still hope."
*There's no hope* Scully thinks, but she says nothing. She knows her family have all but written her off, so it's refreshing to have one person rooting for her. "Thank you," she says softly, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to Mulder's cheek. "Does the hotel have a pool?"
Mulder smiles. "It does. And a spa."
"Tell me more," she says, closing her eyes and sighing peacefully.
"I believe the bathtub in the room even has a jacuzzi setting."
"You know what I like."
And as Mulder begins to tell her about his plans for their vacation, Scully drifts off to sleep and dreams of the future.
