Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't make me say more.
Summary: Scully thoughts! (What can I say? I enjoy Scully angst and mulder comfort.)
Notes: Extra special thanks to "9". By far- theee greatest beta ever. This story made no sense to me but she understood it anyway.
- - - - -
Gunshot wound to the abdomen is not the way Scully imagined her death. Actually, besides the cancer, Scully never imaged her death. Cylde Bruckmen hadn't been able to foresee her death, and she didn't push it. Personally, she was too busy with other thoughts to imagine her own death. Busy with thoughts of trying to save Mulder and revealing a chain of conspiracy lies far beyond her reach, she didn't have much time for much else. Now, here she lay, gunshot wound to the stomach, and Ritter screaming into his phone.
She felt cold, colder than ever before, even colder than she had felt in Antarctica. It wasn't just a physical cold, but a cold that reached far beyond that, deep into, dare she be fit into a cliché' and say, deep into her soul...? It was a chilly emotional feeling, and suddenly being rational no longer applied to how she felt. This was a cold that could not be tested by science or by labs. It was a cold that only God himself probably felt while his only son was on the cross. She was dying, not only physically, but emotionally.
Her mind went through her family, her mom, Bill, Charlie, Melissa, her Father, and Mulder, ignoring all philosophical thoughts. She could almost reach out and touch Ahab, hear him calling her name. She attempted to move her hand and touch his face but the pain was too much. Her thoughts drifted once more to Mulder and suddenly, the cold chilly feeling inside her, dimmed down. She was no longer afraid, no longer cold.
She was jerked awake by the paramedics and her thoughts raced as she thought of the pain she felt as well as the panic seeping through. At that moment, as if God himself enjoyed seeing her suffer, she let her thoughts span over to her womb. The might-be child in her womb, to be exact. This had been her last shot with in vitro fertilization, and as a doctor, she knew she had blown her chance.
Tears trickled down her cheeks, and although she didn't want to cry, she was too tired and hurt to keep up her guard.
For the next few hours she drifted in and out of sleep, body and mind both deflated by pain. It wasn't until she felt a warm familiar hand hold hers softly and lovingly that she could really drift to sleep.
When she awoke, she found Mulder watching her, and for the first time in between all of those hours, she felt relieved. She looked at him, and by some magical, metaphysical transgression, she understood all of her worries. Deep in his eyes, she could see only one thing, he loved her, child or not.
She smiled as she thought about the various weddings she'd attended, and the words the priest spoke seemed to almost sing to her.
"Til death do us part." she smiled at the words because for the first time ever she realized that not even death could tear them apart.
