Title - Ignorance Is…

Author- DDs Tea Cup

Disclaimer – *wonders what would happen if she didn't disclaim*...paranoia, however forces me to say "They be not mine, gov'ner." Why the accent? Couldn't tell you. LOL

References – Amor Fati, Within, Elegy, general for the series, especially throughout season 7.

Summary – Mulder gets the news of his cancer.


I look at the x-rays. I'm no doctor but I recognise that dark mass for what it is. I recognise it from an x ray I saw a lifetime ago, pinned to a glowing white wall not unlike the one I'm standing in front of now and I shudder.

Her words echo in my mind. "I have cancer".

No Scully. I have cancer.

The doctor beside me shifts his weight suddenly and I jolt back to reality, or some version of it, and he begins to outline my options. My options. My life. In this cold, white room he tells me I'm dying and all I can think of is the complex web of events that occurred during the course of this morning that led me to be standing here in this room without Scully. The events that conspired to keep her from learning this truth along side me.


"Mulder, your appointments at 2, we'll be able to get the reports done, go to the meeting with Skinner, have a quick lunch and be at the hospital on time. It'll be fine. Then we can play hooky for the rest of the day and go back to my place." He grinned at her as she waggled her eyebrows suggestively at him.

"I dunno, Scully, its just another routine round of x-rays, I don't even know why you need to bother to come this time." His tone was admonishing but his eyes were filled with the mirth borne of the knowledge that the argument was pointless. She had come to every one of his other checkups since his brain surgery, why should this time be any different?

She had smiled, more to the report on the desk in front of her than at him directly and raised her eyes to his without raising her head "Well, you know how my only joy in life is making sure the doctors are doing their jobs."

He bit his lip to stop the smirk and shook his head in defeat, before returning his attention to the mass of paperwork in front of him and beginning work.

Several hours later, they were walking through the maze of corridors that led from their office to Skinner's when one of the junior agents Mulder vaguely recognised from the cafeteria lunch line had come running toward them in a hysterical frenzy, begging Scully to follow him to the nearby conference room. Inside, they found an agent lying prone on the floor not breathing and turning a painful shade of white, that reminded Mulder so much of an icy night in a tunnel in Antarctica that he had to turn away. Scully had dropped to her knees and began CPR before he could recover enough to assist her. Her shouted orders to the other agent calmed his nerves as his chest compressions matched her breaths into the mans mouth until the EMTs crashed through the doorway filled with curious bystanders and took over. Scully had stood quickly to make way for the paramedics and gave them a concise summary of what she knew and then headed into the hallway once again, leaving Mulder to slowly get to his feet and follow her.

The incident had forced the meeting with Skinner back an hour and Scully had suggested that Mulder go on to his appointment, while she handled their boss, picked up lunch and met him at her hospital a little later. Having no argument again for her logic, he merely nodded and turned in the opposite way down the hallway toward the parking garage.

He was halfway to the hospital when his cell phone began vibrating pleasantly in his pants pocket. Taking it out, whilst manoeuvring the car around a Sunday driver, he took note of the o-so-familiar number on the screen and smiled.

"Skinner booted us out yet?"

He heard her allow herself the briefest of chuckles before answering. 'No, but I'm stuck here for another hour or so, Skinner needs me to do a report on Agent Spicer before he lets me go for the day."

His brow crinkled in confusion. "Agent Spicer?" He heard her chuckle again.

"Yeah, I was confused as well. The guy we saved this morning."

"Oh." He tried to sound neutral but he knew she would hear the slight disappointment inflected in his voice. "So you're not going to make the appointment after all."

She sighed. "Looks like it. You should be happy, you didn't want me there in the first place."

"You know that's not true. I need you there. You're my translator." She had laughed, and he had been sated, smiling as he pulled into the hospital parking lot.

Her voice broke through. "We still on for tonight?"

"Always."

"Okay, see you then. Bring the wine."

He clicked the phone off, and wandered into the building, smiling to himself.


The white light of the x-ray board was burning his eyes as he stood silently staring unregistering at the pictures in front of him. Bathed in the unnatural light he contemplated with relief that she didn't know. Didn't have to know right now. That he would be able to deal with this, and then tell her. He'd tell her tonight. After dinner, but before she would be lying in his arms in her bed.


I cough dryly into my glass and study her silently as she lays with her head on my lap watching the movie. Her fingers drawing aimless circles on the denim that covers my upper thigh. My hand roams through her hair, easing out the twists and tangles all the while creating more with my fingers. I can't do it. Can't do what she had done so clinically and bluntly to me all that time ago. Can't watch what had occurred in me occur in her. Can't watch as her heart slowly breaks with the realisation of helplessness, of devastation, of disbelief and injustice. I can't. And I won't. She'd suffered enough. Finally we are happy. Relatively safe in what we've created together and damned if I'm going to take that from her.

A myriad of thoughts careen through my mind as I contemplate my decision, and one memory takes precedence in the chaos.

"If you're not working with me you're working against me."

After 4 years I finally understood. I'm finally able to comprehend that torn, broken and confused expression that had come over her features. She had been trying to protect me. I'd comprehended it to an extent at the time, but the overwhelming feeling of betrayal, deceit and a desperate need to know her condition had forced any logical thought as to why she would lie to me out of my mind. But now, as I drag my fingers through the auburn strands, I understand her need to keep it from me. To save herself from putting me through that. In order to save herself from the guilt she felt for causing it.

I won't tell her. She'd understand. In time. I have to fight this fight alone. For her. Because I know, know it all to well, that knowledge maybe useful, but sometimes ignorance was definitely...well…better than the alternative. For the time being anyway.


A/N - The biggest problem I had with Season 8 was that not telling Scully about his cancer was seemingly against all he believed in. He'd yelled at her countless times during her illness, not to mention the whole "Nothing is more important the truth" rants LOL. Writing this eased the pain. LOL