I guess I should probably clarify the time frame for this, as some of you may be wondering why I haven't touched on any Mulder angst from the cancer arc. This is purely because in my head I've set this before the events of Leonard Betts, after Wetwired. So there you go :) -E x

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The hours turned into days turned into weeks, each one passing the same. Scully's condition hadn't improved, nor had she weakened. It had been exactly 3 weeks since the accident, and I had lost a lot more than just my sanity. All five of my fish had perished due to lack of nutrition. I could barely feed myself, let alone pets. Margaret Scully wouldn't stop commenting on how thin I was looking. On the rare occasion she would convince me to go home, I would shave and change, take a quick nap on my sofa, and then it would be back to the hospital to see Scully.

The nurses gave up on trying to usher me out after visiting hours, they knew I'd manage to sneak back in again. Sometimes they'd come in and wash Scully down, clean her body and soap her hair. Normally because they had nothing else to do. One night nurse came in at exactly 3:34am every night to paint Scully's nails. They'd grown longer in her coma, and the nurse would sit down with her bottle of nail varnish, and give her a proper mani pedi. Every time it would be a different colour, sometimes natural, other times brilliant red or a dark plum. I watched with fascination as her slender fingers were massaged and cared for. She has such beautiful hands. Scully was the most popular patient on the ward. She got regular visits from Father McCue, her mother, nearly every nurse in the hospital, and a few people from her church that I didn't recognise. Even the Lone Gunmen had personally delivered her flowers. Her brother Bill was stuck on tour, and Charlie phoned Maggie every other day to ask about Dana. Something about lack of funds apparently prevented him from visiting, but he hadn't ever visited Scully in hospital - why start now?

I was a constant, a fly on the wall. I watched all her meetings, I background checked every soul that entered our little bubble through the Gunmen. If I wasn't protectively standing by her side, grasping Scully's hand as her visitors passed by, I was sulking in the corner, my eyes trained on them like a hawk. You won't get a chance to hurt my Scully. I only left alone with her mother - after I'd done a subtle yet prolonged check on the back of her neck. God Mulder, you've become more paranoid than ol' Frohike himself.

Scully's face got thinner along with my hopes. I would tell myself to believe in her, but with every passing moment it felt like the Scully I knew was further and further away. Hold onto me Scully. Don't let go. It was only due to some twisted loyalty, and faith in the truth that was so hidden it seemed like a lie, that kept Maggie Scully from pulling the plug. I knew she'd had the conversation with her son, with her God. She had people to confide in, to talk to. Scully was my confidant. I would whisper to her every day. No one can hear our conversations Scully. They're just for us. I would talk to her about anything and everything. How I felt. How I wanted to feel. I would read her the morning newspaper, or from a recent medical journal that I could nab from reception. This morning however, there was no medical journal that I hadn't already read to her cover to cover, and Maggie Scully was late with the newspaper. So I told her about the window.

There was one window in the ward, and it was almost as big as the wall, with it reaching from floor to ceiling. The nurses grew fond of Scully, and gave me more room than the other patients, although they chalked it up to there being enough room for her many visitors. But really I knew it was because they wanted Scully to have that window all to herself, and she couldn't even see it for herself. So I sat there, my hand idly brushing her leg, as I recounted all I knew about that beautiful cherry blossom tree that had bloomed during her sleep. I told her about the deep reds and soft pinks of its flowers that slowly fluttered to the ground with the wind. Wake up Scully, it's so beautiful. The sky was a pastel shade of blue, and the sunrise. Oh Scully the sunrise would be your favourite thing. It threw reds and oranges and pinks all over the walls. It splashed yellow across the horizon. And it was all for you Scully. The sun rises in the morning just so it can see a glimpse of Scully's beautiful face. Like me, it wishes that one day it would see her eyes peek open, the depth of her blue just as piercing and yet just as calm as the sky that surrounds us.

But on the three week anniversary of Scully's accident, the doctors told me that she had made no further signs of recovery and I buried my head in my hands and sobbed. Wake up Scully and look at the cherry blossoms with me. My sobs subsided around the time Maggie Scully walked in, her strong walls hiding the crumbling fortress inside. She held the morning newspaper in her hand, and a cup of coffee in the other. She knew I didn't sleep whilst I was sitting at Scully's bedside, and the caffeine was a welcome relief from the fatigue that dogged me.

"Go home today Mulder. I'll be with her." Her voice was soft as butter, and it shocked me to hear something other than my own hushed murmurs. I looked up at her and found my resolve fading quick. I must have nodded because she began to pull me up out of the visitors chair and sat in it herself. She brushed her hand against mine and gave it a squeeze.

"No one visits her until I get back." My voice lacked conviction from the tiredness that she saw in my eyes, but she agreed to adhere to my wish. I gave Scully one last look from my place at the side of her bed, before bending down to brush my lips against her cheek. "I'll be back before you can say little green men, don't you worry."

I thought I almost saw the corner of her lips turn upwards in a faint smile, but it was my imagination. She hadn't moved since I had last pushed a piece of her auburn hair behind her ear. I nodded at Maggie as a goodbye. There was no point in me offering comfort, she would only receive a shaky hand on her firm shoulder.

My apartment felt stale. It was practically decomposing before my eyes. It smelled of death. It took me a while to realise it was my own death, not Scully's. This time it was different. When Scully had been taken from me the first time, only to be brought back to civilisation in catatonic state, I had people to chase, demons and monsters to fight. There were men behind her abduction and I was hellbent on finding them. But this time, Scully wasn't in hospital because a group of shadow men decided they could toy with my emotions once more. Her health was not a small part in a big plan to take Fox Mulder away from the scent, away from the truth and the well hidden conspiracy. No, this time Scully was in hospital because she was hit by a van. She was hit by a van because she wasn't focused. She wasn't focused because I had scared her. I'd hit her and pushed her and thrown her off course completely. I didn't trust her. I thought she was someone she said she wasn't. I thought she was a part of the shadow government that we had both tried so hard to uncover and stop. And for that moment I truly believed it. But Scully, now I realise that you are the only one I trust. If I had stopped for just a moment, and used my own advice of 'trust no one' instead of readily jumping at every half-explained conspiracy that was given to me by a mysterious informant with no name and more than one agenda, would Scully be in hospital? No. She would have walked into that office at 9am, we would have left for lunch at around 1pm and gone home to our respective apartments at around 5pm. Then we would have got up the next morning and done it all over again. Oh what I would give to spend one more day with her in the office, going over gruelling expense reports. Just to see her body, alive and breathing without the aid of machines, next to mine. Sitting two metres away from me, her legs crossed under her customary black skirt. Scully I miss you so much, come back to me?

I walked into the bathroom and stripped off, stepping under the scorchingly hot spray of the shower. The water burnt me, but my body felt numb. I sat down at the bottom of the cubicle, the streams of water washing over my prone body, as I sat with my legs tucked close to my body, slightly rocking. Stay with me Scully. Stay with me stay with me stay with me.

I sat like that until the water ran cold. It was then that my body went into self preservation mode, the kind it slipped into when my mind wasn't quite there. I got up and finished my shower, before turning off the water and stepping out. I stood in front of the mirror staring mindlessly at my reflection in the mirror. My hair was stuck to my scalp but my cheeks had began to hollow, my eyes red and scary. I was starting to lose the definition in my chest, due to my lack of exercise and food altogether. I grabbed my shaver almost by instinct and worked on ridding myself of the hideous wiry beard that had started to grow along my jaw.

My trek to the sofa wasn't a long one, but I don't remember it. I had somehow remembered to pull the blanket draped along the back of the couch over my shivering body as I prepared myself for my power nap. I checked my clock, 1:54 in the afternoon. I made a mental pact to wake up in 2 hours, ready to haul myself back to the hospital, back to Scully's side and I closed my eyes.

I dreamt of Scully, sitting with me on my black leather sofa, beer bottle in one hand, the other fishing for another slice of pizza. We were watching some B-rated horror movie, but I was too busy focusing on her to care about which one - they were all the same anyway. I watched her lips as they parted to take the bitter liquid down her throat as she intently stared at the TV screen. I looked as she flexed her little barefoot toes which had been tucked under her. There was something so domestic about this. Her sitting there so close to me, in jeans and a t-shirt. No case files, no suit jackets. Just Dana and Fox hanging out on a typical Friday night. Her slice of pizza was devoured before I even noticed, but instead of reaching for another, she tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. I knew her hair was a brilliant red, I'd heard many people tell me. I even heard some fellow agents discussing in the men's toilets if she was a natural redhead but I'd decided not to take the bait. The problem was, I am red/green colour blind. People can describe my partners auburn hair to me as much as they like, I have never seen it. Her hair to me is a mousy brown, but nonetheless perfectly styled and beautifully soft. I'd love to see her hair the way others do. I'd love to run my fingers through her lions mane, combing back the loose tendrils whilst kissing her temple. My examination of her delicate form was cut short by a piercing trill. Scully looked at me expectantly. The phone, oh yeah, pick up the phone. I held the receiver to my ear and spoke into it. The words I heard next shock me to my very core.

"Mulder, it's me."

I stared wide eyed at the Scully sitting next to me. But how can she be talking to me on the phone and sitting next to me on the couch?

"Mulder, who is it?"

"Mulder? Are you there? I need you to pick me up."

"Mulder quit staring at me! Who's on the other line?"

"Mulder please I'm frightened." The frailty of her voice on the phone shocked me out of my near catatonic state. Scully. Help. Scully needs help. I shouted her name into the receiver but all I got in reply is the same sharp sound from my phone, waiting to be picked up.

I woke up in a cold sweat, naked and shaking on my couch. My damp skin peeled away from the leather sofa and it was almost painful. It took me a while to realise it but the loud shrill of my phone still invaded the quiet of my apartment. I glanced at my watch as I groggily reached for the receiver. 7:18pm. I overslept by 4 hours and I groan in return. I mumbled my name to my mystery caller as I scrambled to my feet, rushing to the bedroom to find clean clothes. I'm coming Scully. I know I'm late but I promise I'm coming now. The voice on the other line is one I was not expecting to hear, but I was too busy getting ready to worry about its importance

"Fox?"

Maggie Scully's tone of voice stopped me in my tracks. No. No no no no. She's turned off the life support. I leave Scully for a few hours and she's gone. My Scully is dead. Oh god no. No this can't be happening. This is not happening.

"Fox, you need to get to the hospital right away." My tears were flowing freely down my face. Oh god no Scully, I love you. I love you. "Fox, Dana is asking for you."

I stopped breathing and I dropped the receiver on the floor, hearing the satisfying crack as the back dropped off on impact. The next minutes were a completely rushed blur as I speedily threw whatever clothes I could find onto my still sweaty body and ran out of my apartment door, my shoe laces untied and the biggest grin on my face that anyone had ever seen.

My beautiful Dana is asking for me.