Chapter 67 - Relapse & Revelation
"You did well, Dana," Jack said, his large hand patting her briefly on the back as Scully rejoined them, being the first to finish the round of physical tests in the gymnasium of the FBI Atlanta field office.
Trying to catch her breath from her 1.5 mile run, Scully sat onto the wooden bench beside her mother and gratefully took the bottle of cold water she was offered. The round of testing had been a little harder than she had expected. Of course, the doctors had said that what they had been through had effectively aged them at least ten years, and she clung to this fact as she mourned the results she had achieved in previous years, when she had fallen into the highest fitness bracket. But nevertheless, she could not help feeling disappointed as she watched the others complete their own testing; Mulder now on the 1.5 mile run, John pelting through his push-ups, and Monica at the beginning on sit-ups. It was of some comfort that the others were also lacking their former fitness.
"You look disappointed," Mrs Scully said, rubbing her back.
"I should have done better," Scully said.
She saw her mother smile knowingly to herself. Scully knew this line amused her as her life motto, from when Scully was in tenth grade and came home in tears for the A she had received on her science test instead of her desired A+; to the time she had applied for medicine and spent weeks in an intense paranoia that her near perfect marks were not quite perfect enough.
"You're too hard on yourself," Christi said, from where she was sitting beside Anne with her hand on her abdomen, as it so often was these days. It was as if she still couldn't believe she was pregnant.
"I'm sure you passed fine," Deirdre said confidently. "And as you're not planning on doing field work I honestly can't see why it matters."
That was true too, and Scully tried to settle her feelings on the matter as she watched the others complete their testing. A few minutes later, Mulder joined them from his run, collapsing on the bench beside her and gulping down half the water as he sweated from head to toe. Scully put her hand on his bare knee, knowing he felt the same frustration as she did. Minutes later, they were finally joined by John and Monica, John standing with his hands on his knees, looking absolutely exhausted, and Monica ambling straight for the bench and looking like she could faint before she reached it.
"You did great," Anne said encouragingly.
But at that moment the double doors to the gymnasium opened and Jana Cassidy marched in with Doctor Cheung. It was still early morning, as they had arrived well before most employees arrived for the day, and so the gym was still quite empty. But the two keen agents who had been training on treadmills looked up sharply as they saw the Director of the FBI walking into their gym. Jana smiled at them as she hurried past with the doctor, but she did not head to where Scully and everyone sat, but instead for the three instructors who had timed them on the various components.
"Judgement Day," Mulder said quietly.
Scully felt the same alertness. She had never expected Jana to make a personal appearance. Now she was Director, she was simply far too busy - or she should have been. As far as they had known, they were to be physically tested like any other agent, and that was it. But as she watched as Jana took the scoring sheets and perused them with interest, talking quietly with Doctor Cheung and the instructors, Scully felt that this was not going to be the case.
"What's the hell's she doing here?" John said darkly.
"Don't talk like that," Jack said. "You should be very grateful after what she's done for you."
John nodded off the statement, but Scully knew what he meant. It was not ungratefulness, as the four of them knew very well everything Jana had done for them, and they would repay her in an instant if they could. But the fact remained that she was the Director of the FBI, and that she had undoubtedly not flown down solely to admire their test scores, which could have been otherwise sent to her directly by any one of the thirty thousand employees under her command. This many years in the X-Files battling the conspiring egos in the top of the command chain had given the four of them a fine-tuned sense of suspicion.
The instructors parted, gathering their things, and Jana said something to the Doctor, who nodded, and then the two finally made their way over.
"Well congratulations," Jana said with a professional smile. "You've all done phenomenally well."
"It's very impressive," Doctor Cheung said. "The speed with which the four of you have recovered is astounding. Far better than we expected."
"Well they've been training hard," Mrs Scully said proudly. "Dana's been anxious to start work again."
"Yes, I've heard," Jana said with a smile. "And on the basis of these figures I think we're more than happy to give you back your badge and gun."
For a moment Scully wondered if she'd heard correctly. Perhaps she had been overreacting in thinking Jana had a hidden agenda. It was a sad product of her years on the X-Files that she saw danger in everyone in authority - even when none existed. And especially in a friend like Jana. It was an unusual feeling to be all on the same side again.
"Thank you," Scully said gratefully, feeling relieved.
"And us?" John asked.
"All of you," Jana confirmed. "I have your things upstairs, along with some minor paperwork I need you to sign. Why don't the four of you get changed and then we'll head up there."
Five minutes later they were back in their casual clothes and after enduring an elevator ride of staring agents arriving for work, they arrived at SAC Pearson's spacious office overlooking a clear morning in Atlanta.
"I need to ask you to wait here," Jana said apologetically to their relatives in the outer office. "We won't be a minute."
Understanding, their relatives sat themselves down and Scully headed into the inner office with Jana, Doctor Cheung, John, Monica and Mulder.
"Sit down," Jana said, waving them to spare seats at the table. In the space where Jana sat were four guns and their FBI identification badges.
"So how's life at the top?" John asked, sitting down beside Monica.
"Hectic," Jana said. "It's a marathon of meetings at the moment. I'm averaging twelve a day - all budgets, forecasts and press statements - I think I'm having an Excel overdose. But we've at last finalised our organisational structure, filled all the vacant positions, so things should start to ease up again soon. I'm actually down here on a case at the moment. I'm just dropping in on my way through. You've heard of the killings in Savannah?"
"No," Monica admitted awkwardly. "We haven't really been following the news."
"That's understandable," Doctor Cheung said. "You do still feature regularly."
"These killings must be pretty bad," Mulder said thoughtfully. "To warrant your personal attention."
"Yes, they are," Jana said with a sigh. "We're getting more and more deaths and we're still no closer to finding the perpetrator. The FBI is getting a lot of criticism from the media and it's getting worse all the time. When I left DC I was suffering from a 'lack of funding', and when I landed here in Atlanta I was 'not up for the job'."
Scully sighed, feeling a rush of frustrated sympathy.
"In fact I had hoped you wouldn't mind taking a look," Jana said, clicking her briefcase open and withdrawing a thick folder held together by a straining elastic band. "Maybe you'll see something we don't."
Mulder took the folder with interest, and Scully eyed it with him as he opened it. At once they were faced with a sheet of colour photos. They showed three separate victims, who looked like they had faced a brutal death. They had blood all over their torsos, and their eyes were opened in expressions of frozen terror. Scully's stomach jolted unpleasantly, as the bodies instantly resembled the line of colleagues in the bloody snow on the mountain. Their insides spilling out of their stomach wounds, the endless pools of blood and soaked clothing, and then herself a few days later as she had cut into those same bodies in order to preserve her own. The victims in the case and on the mountain shared the identical expression of an undeserving person being exposed to the most brutal horror, and all her medical training suddenly left her as she could do nothing but stare, her lungs suddenly empty.
"Oh ..." Mulder gulped, and Scully sensed him look away.
It was her fear that he was going to be sick that caused Scully to finally break her gaze from the photos, and she looked up to see that his face was white, and he was trying to look anywhere but at the photos in front of him. On the other side of Mulder sat John, who also had his eyes wet eyes averted, and then Monica, who was completely white, and stared up at Jana in blank horror.
Scully followed her gaze, and found Jana looking at them with a calculating expression. She had been studying their every reaction, and Scully knew then that they had been set up.
"I need to ask," Jana said slowly. "Do you think you are psychologically ready to resume work?"
And still Monica stared. Her eyes flicked to the photos in front of Mulder, and in a flash a hand flew to her mouth and she leapt up from her seat, hurrying for the door.
Doctor Cheung leapt up from his seat. "Stay there," he ordered the three of them. "I'll look after her."
John's wide, upset eyes found Jana's. "You did that deliberately?"
There was a clear note of accusation in his voice, but Jana remained calm and professional.
"Perhaps I did," Jana said. "Because as your Director, and as your friend, I thought it plain commonsense to check your mental readiness before dropping you back unprotected into the Bureau. You know these cases come up. And if it hadn't been a murder that reminded you of what you saw up there, it would've only been a suicide, a victim of assault, or any one of another thousand cases we get everyday which anyone in the Bureau might ask your opinion on at anytime. And once you're back in we can't really protect you every moment of every day. You won't have your families with you on the job, you won't have me around to filter everything that reaches you, you might not even have each other. Now call me unreasonable if you like, John, but I thought it far preferable to get things into the open now rather than to let you blindly sign that medical declaration and take back your gun, only to witness Monica use her own to commit suicide in a few months' time."
Scully's stomach clenched as she knew Jana was right. It was not far-fetched to think Monica might yet try again to commit suicide. It would only take one weak moment, the slightest relapse, and giving her back her gun would make it foolishly easy. And Jana would have been the ultimate fool to give it to her without checking first.
"You're right," Scully said quietly to her.
John's anger had evaporated, and Scully could see the vision of Monica suicidal again playing through his mind. Tears were still in his eyes.
Eventually he shook his head and with a great heaviness, pushed himself to his feet.
"Monica and I are gonna stay on leave a while longer."
Jana nodded. "I think that might be best. Keep up your regular counselling. We'll see how you feel in another two to three months."
John nodded, but looking slightly defeated, headed silently for the door.
"And Agent Doggett," Jana said, and he looked around. "Don't let this get you down. We weren't lying when we said we think you're doing astonishingly well. It's just that we want to make sure you don't slip."
"Thanks," John said, nodding awkwardly, but nevertheless looking slightly better.
He left the room, closing the door behind them.
Jana looked up at Scully and Mulder. "How do you both feel?"
Scully sighed. The last few minutes had not been pleasant, but neither did she want to give up. She had to expect these hurdles. It was never going to be easy, and the only thing to do was to face these problems and tackle them. Monica and John were not yet ready, but that was okay as Scully had known all along that their hearts had not been in it. They had taken the test solely to support her own career desires, and in a way Scully was grateful that Jana had seen through them. It was not for nothing that she had risen through the ranks to become Director. But while John and Monica needed further time off to evaluate what they wanted to do, Scully still felt determined to try. She took a deep breath and pulled the photos toward her, now studying them with a medical eye and shutting off the memories they provoked.
"It's not a usual method," Scully said, studying the bloody wounds. "I see no sign of stabbing, as though by a knife, but neither was this done with a blunt object, the way the skin has been torn, and with this amount of blood loss. But without an autopsy I can't tell you for sure how it was done. I'd need a closer look."
Mulder took the file, flicking past the photos and to the police reports. "All three victims walking alone late at night, all within the same five mile radius. Two college students, one late night waitress. Reports of their activity in the preceding 24 hours are inconsistent. It appears like random attacks at first glance, and yet in these city blocks it must have happened fast to go undetected. No witnesses, no reports of screaming ..." He paused as he scanned the reports.
"On this evidence I'd be searching for someone you'd ordinarily overlook. Someone who wouldn't look dangerous, who you might even expect to be out and about in these night hours, who probably even does it regularly, or perhaps for a living. It's a person a twenty year old girl would feel safe in walking past in the middle of the night. I'd be looking to see who works these hours in these city blocks, any shops or cafes that might be open, anyone who might do night study at the college, or who works late at the college. You'll probably find that's where they initially spotted the victims before tracking them down later. I'd be looking for someone in uniform, whose professionalism or look of belonging would shield a darker agenda. Either way, I'd pull lists of all night employees and do a stakeout on the college grounds. You might even look into planting a young female agent who fits this profile."
Jana gave him an appraising look. "Have you ever considered going back into profiling?"
"I don't know," Mulder said, speaking automatically as he continued to flick through police reports, fully curious now. "But if you give me my badge, I'll give you a free hint."
Jana held back a smile. "Give me your hint, and we'll negotiate your badge."
Scully watched, impressed by Mulder's insight and his profiling talent he rarely displayed. He continued to flick through the folder, concentrating hard, mind whirring as he sped read through the contents. He looked more and more sure of himself with every page he turned.
"Tell me what you're going to do for Agent Scully and I'll tell you who it is," he said, flicking through maps of the college and the student records of the victims.
"I already have the third victim cooling off at the morgue," Jana said, looking to Scully. "I'm aware you'd like to resurrect your career as a doctor, and as a scientist, and if you're still interested Doctor Cheung and I will both accompany you to try an autopsy on the body."
"I'm ready and willing," Scully said, quashing her anxiety and letting Mulder's strength fuel her own.
Jana looked back to Mulder.
"My money's on a campus security guard," Mulder said, closing the folder and handing it back to her. "I'd take a look at the night shift rosters, see who patrols the grounds during these hours."
"Someone a young student would never suspect," Jana repeated, looking at a photo of one of the girls. "I'll get someone onto it."
Jana shut the folder and put it aside. She grabbed two badges from the pile of four and held them in her hands.
"I'm willing to ease you back in. I think it would be best if we keep it as part time hours to begin with - perhaps one or two mornings a week - supported by ongoing counselling. Agent Mulder, I'll put you in as a profiler, Agent Scully, as a scientist, and perhaps a forensic pathologist, depending on how you go with us later. I'll make sure you get desks here, and side by side so you can support each other. You'll get your work through SAC Pearson. And he's a good man, he'll give you every support. In fact with your expertise I think he'll be thrilled to have you on board."
"Thank you," Scully said. It was a strange feeling to be welcomed with open arms again by her superiors. It was almost as if she was back emerging from the Academy, when they had scanned her qualifications and peered up at her over their glasses with keen interest.
"Make it one morning a week to begin with," Mulder said. "We'll build it up from there."
"Done," Jana said. "And that just leaves the question of your weapons."
On this, Scully hesitated. She herself had no intention of using a gun to commit suicide, and knew that Mulder didn't either. But they did still live with Monica and John, and it was still plausible that Monica could do it, given that she had already attempted suicide once as it was.
"Keep them a little longer," Scully said. "As long as we're working only from this office they're more of a risk than an aid."
"Okay," Jana said. "But if you ever need to leave this office to view something in the field, I want you to notify SAC Pearson and take one with you. I'm not having agents out there unprotected."
Scully nodded.
"Are we agreed?" Jana asked.
"Agreed," Mulder said, taking his badge as she passed them out.
"All right," Jana said. "Then I want you both to take a brief break. Go be with your friends and families, perhaps get something to eat. And then, Agent Scully, I'd like you to come with me and Doctor Cheung to the morgue, and we'll try this autopsy."
Scully nodded again. She felt nervous, and not only for the autopsy but how Monica and John were doing, and how they would take this news that her and Mulder were back at work part time. It made part of her feel sad, as up until now they had been all together, and now they were finally addressing each of their own unique needs, and Scully also had the heavy feeling that she was saying an eternal goodbye to having John and Monica as colleagues. But she had to recover her career to find happiness, and Mulder would walk the path with her. And John and Monica were part of their family now. They would still live together, still support each other, and somehow pull through.
XXX
"Can we come in?"
Monica had her head around the door of the small locker room off the morgue corridor, where the doctors changed from their clothes into their medical scrubs. Scully stood there dressed in the blue cloth now, her previous clothes stacked in a neat pile on the bench. As Monica, John and Mulder entered, she turned and sat down on the bench. Mulder sat down beside her, immediately putting his arm around her waist, and Monica took the bench opposite with John. The air was cold.
"How are you feeling?" Mulder asked, rubbing her back.
"A little nervous," Scully admitted quietly. "But if I'm going to do this, now's the time."
Monica nodded. She knew how much Scully's medical career meant to her. That was simply the way she was - the way the whole Scully family was. They were intelligent and ambitious, and of a genetic breed where sitting around was the surest way of sending them crazy. Bill and Charlie were both the same, and though Charlie was intending to leave the Navy, Monica couldn't imagine him being a stay at home father permanently. He was not as openly ambitious as his sister, but he was just as intelligent.
"You'll be fine," Monica said, trying to support her. "Just take it slow, one little step at a time. Like you've always done."
"Don't think about anything," John advised. "Work through it like a machine."
Scully nodded to herself, but she said nothing in reply.
"Something's bothering you," Mulder said, watching her.
And Monica found Scully's worried eyes look up at her.
"Are you okay with this?"
"Of course I am," Monica assured her. "I'm okay with anything you need."
It was a white lie, and they all knew it, but Monica could not bear to speak the truth. She felt the heaviness of their professional parting as they all did. She did not blame Jana one bit for what she did. In fact, Monica would have thought a lot less of her if she had not questioned them. And she knew that Jana had gone about it the way she had because to ask the four of them honestly would have provoked a chorus of confident lies. The four of them worked so well together, read each other and spoke for each other that Jana had undoubtedly thought the quickest way was to mimic a real situation in asking their opinion on a case and seeing how they reacted. And Monica had not been ready to go back to the FBI anyway, but she had done it to support Scully and had fully intended to stay on leave longer even if Jana had given her badge back. But now she felt a depressing sense of loss - that she was losing Mulder and Scully back to the FBI while herself and John remained full time at home, and she dreaded those lonely hours when they would be gone from the house and she would have only their suitcases for company. And it was surely only going to get worse as they increased their hours and rediscovered their careers. The past two months of having them around constantly had been heaven, and the pain of finally breaking this dependency was nothing short of utter agony for all four of them.
"Maybe it is too soon," Scully said. "Perhaps I should stay on leave a while longer."
"No," John said. "You need this. And it's only four hours a week, we'll still have plenty of time together."
"Exactly," Monica said, lying outright. "And we'll be fine. It was always going to come to this, we've all known it all along. And putting it off is only going to make things worse. Do what's best for you, Dana."
"And you?" Scully asked.
"I'll be fine," Monica said. "I'll be keeping busy."
"Managing our investments is a full-time job," John agreed.
"That's right," Monica said. "You have no cause for worry."
"And the FBI?" Scully asked tentatively.
Monica fell silent.
Scully nodded to herself, as if this was answer enough. She sighed and leaned back against the lockers, her glistening eyes locked onto Monica's.
"It's never going to be the same," Mulder said, looking depressed. "Now we're going our separate ways. The partnerships we've held all these years, the cases we've had and the times we've had."
Monica felt tears in her own eyes, remembering a slew of scattered memories; uniting in battle to keep the X-files open, backing each other up in chases, and occasionally those quiet moments when their work slowed down enough that they could catch their breath and crack a joke or two.
"I'll never let go of it," she promised. "And we'll never let go of each other. No matter what our needs are, we stay together."
"Always," John agreed, taking Monica's hand and giving it a squeeze.
Scully gave a sad smile, but a second later she was looking away, holding back tears.
"Scully ..." Mulder said, drawing her closer.
She sniffed, drawing back her tears. "I'm going to miss you."
Monica felt her own tears flow. "Like I'll miss you."
And Scully got to her feet as Monica did, and they hugged each other tight, Monica holding onto the thin cloth of medical scrubs, her tears dropping onto the shoulder as Scully clung to her equally fiercely. And together they held each other, mourning the parting of their careers, the end of their long months spent entirely in each other's company. From here on they would have to struggle to regain some sense of individual independence, each find a path for their own future. And though Monica knew they would continue living together, the sense of loss that overwhelmed the locker room was unbearable.
"I have to go," Scully said, pulling back and her eyes flying to a clock on the wall. "They'll be waiting."
"Wipe your eyes," John said, and not having a tissue, he reached out and wiped some saltwater from her cheeks.
Scully smiled, sniffing again. "I'll be back in a little while."
"We'll be waiting right here," Mulder promised, and he leaned to kiss her firmly on the lips.
XXX
It was nine o'clock at night and the four of them were sitting together on John and Monica's sofa bed. Deirdre had given them a long counselling session to help them cope with the prospect of spending these four hours per week apart, but it only did a little to help Scully's depression. She had not expected to feel this way. She had expected to feel elation at getting her badge back, and at getting through the autopsy successfully. It had not been perfect - she had nearly lost it on several occasions, losing her words as she stared at the bloody corpse in front of her and finding herself trembling - but Doctor Cheung had pulled her through and she had reached the end with the job done. Jana had requested that her next two autopsies were also done with his assistance, but overall it was a fair outcome considering how difficult it had been. But she had never expected to be blindsided by this overwhelming sense of loss for Monica and John. She hardly understood it, it was such a complex feeling, but it was there for all of them, and they had all been down for the whole day.
Monica was lying on her side in purple shorts and a singlet top, John behind her with a hand on her hip, and she eyed Scully, who was curled up in Mulder's secure arms.
"We need to get over this," Monica said sadly. "There's no sense in us being depressed about it."
"Maybe we should think in positives," Mulder said, attempting to join her. His hands were under the front of Scully's top, stroking her stomach and her ribs below her bra.
"You sound like Pollyanna," Scully complained, recalling the movie from her childhood.
"She was a positive person," Mulder said.
"She was a character in a Disney movie," Scully corrected. "It has little resemblance to real life, much less our situation."
"We could give it a try," Monica said. "If each of us picked something to be positive about."
"Like what?" John asked.
"I don't know," Monica said thoughtfully. "Like the fact that we're physically better."
"You are lookin' good," he agreed, and his hand slipped from her hip to her behind, causing Monica to smile.
"Later," she promised, smiling at him over her shoulder.
"And we're going to have a new baby in the family," Mulder suggested. "A new niece or nephew."
"Two of them," Scully corrected, thinking of both Christi and Tara's pregnancies.
But that thought was a little painful. She was beginning to adjust to the idea of never having children herself, but she still felt for Charlie and how much he was missing of Christi's pregnancy. It had been a few weeks now, and Christi's morning sickness was beginning to pass. She was nearly nine weeks now, and Scully was hoping that she would not have a miscarriage. The four of them had made a pact to minimise the stress they put on Christi. They had agreed not to cry to her, or in front of her, and be cheerful and supportive when she was around. Their difficulties were to be kept to each other, to their parents and to Deirdre. And Christi had been doing well. They were keeping Charlie informed of all pregnancy news - the latest e-mailed photo of Christi's stomach causing him swear that she was starting to expand - and he was managing to call regularly and so the two had enough time to chat privately that they were so far coping well. But it was nevertheless less than ideal.
"Perhaps we should get some sleep," John ventured. "Maybe we'll all feel better in the morning."
"Perhaps we should," Mulder agreed.
But no one made a move, and Mulder's hands continued their content stroking under Scully's top.
"I don't feel like being alone tonight," Scully said softly. "Can we stay together?"
Monica smiled like she had stolen the words right out of her mouth and started to get up. "We can fold up the bed, spread out on the floor."
"We'll need some pillows and blankets," John said, letting go of Monica and standing up.
Mulder's hands slid out from Scully's clothing, and she reluctantly left her comfortable position and stood up so they could fold up the bed and sleep together on the floor as they had in the crashed plane and on the nights following their return. A few minutes later and they were all prepared. They had the pillows and blankets from both bedrooms spread out on the floor, and Monica returned from brushing her teeth and saying goodnight to everyone. She hovered at the door.
"Lights out?"
"Yeah," Mulder agreed, getting down to the floor and tugging on Scully's hand.
"Are you going to sleep like that?" Monica asked, looking at Scully's baggy flannel pyjamas. She knew that Scully and Mulder had taken to sleeping naked in the absence of a sex life.
"If you are," Scully said, knowing full well what went on in John and Monica's bed when the lights went out and doubting their sleepwear was ever actually slept in.
With a daring smile, Monica clicked the light off, and shut the bedroom door. It was not fully dark, as the night sky was clear and the moonlight around the curtains gave Scully just enough light to see Monica's dark form as she lifted her singlet top over her head, and as Scully thought she saw John's hand shoot up from the floor and tug down her shorts, leaving her in her lingerie.
"Why not go all the way?" Mulder enquired lightly.
"What makes you think we won't?" Monica joked in return, getting under the blankets between John and Mulder.
"Other side, Mulder," Scully instructed, tapping him on the chest and slipping over the top of him so she was between Mulder and Monica. She did not want either to grab the wrong partner by mistake. Though she knew both were entirely trustworthy, the part of her that was in love with Mulder felt a stab of alarm all the same.
"Scully ..."
As she settled on her back on the heavenly hard floor, she felt Mulder's hand creep up, undoing the buttons on her pyjama shirt. Feeling light-hearted, Scully sat up a little and shrugged it off. Mulder's hands then untied the knot of strings on her pants, and she kicked them off under the blankets for good measure so she was lying in her black lingerie as Monica was.
"Anyone mind if we open the window?" John asked, sitting up on an elbow.
"Go for it," Mulder invited.
John got up and padded across the carpet to the window, where he opened it an inch and Scully felt the pleasant night breeze wave in, touching the ends of her hair.
"Well goodnight," John said, returning to his place beside Monica. Scully felt another small breeze as he lifted up the blankets, but then he slipped in and it went away.
"Goodnight," Scully replied.
And as the four of them settled down, Scully knew that medically, the four of them were having a serious relapse in needing to sleep on the floor like they had on the plane, feel the moving of cold air as they had on the plane, and feel the presence of each other as they had on the plane. But to Scully, after the day they had had, it all felt so wonderful that she did not honestly give a damn.
XXX
Scully's heart was pounding. She stared at the heavy wad of paper in her hands - the five hundred and twelve printed pages she had spent every spare minute writing since their arrival in Atlanta over two months ago. To finally have the finished product in her hands was to see time standing still as she sat in the empty living room as the sky outside went from black to a deep indigo. It was all written now, every intimate memory from the mountains was down in these pages, her whole heart was spread throughout this memoir. She had intended to stick to her plan of writing it as a purely medical account, yet this had proved impossible. The memories from the mountains held her entire soul, and she could not pick and choose, it all came together. The book comprised of an account of what happened on the mountains, and select pieces from their time since, and was followed by a hundred page essay on the underlying psychiatry. But now it was done, the product of every corner of her soul out on paper, Scully felt she could never publish it, could never release this precious part of herself for the entire world.
"It's finished?"
Scully jumped. Her eyes shot up over the back of the couch to see Mulder standing at the foot of the stairs. He was in pyjama pants and a t-shirt, even though the air inside the house was quite cold. Scully herself had only thrown her terrycloth robe over her underwear.
Scully's heart was still pounding, and she could not answer as she again lowered her eyes to the title page.
"Quest," Mulder read, sitting down beside her. "By Doctor Dana Scully."
"It's a working title," Scully supplied. She had run through hundreds of possible titles, from the factual to the eye catching, from the medical to those that spoke to the soul. It was "Quest" that her heart had clung to, and even now she felt she could not explain her choice.
"Interesting choice," he said, studying the title as he pondered the underlying meaning. "It implies a search for something. For meaning?"
"Yes," Scully said softly, her heart still thumping with the emotional power of what she held in her hands.
"And have you found the meaning?" Mulder asked. "What you've been looking for?"
"I think we've all found it," Scully replied softly, as the power of this five letter word unravelled in front of her. "And I think it's about far more than coming to terms with grief, with our innate helplessness under the hand of nature. I think it's an equilibrium in the soul."
Mulder's eyes watched her as she again ran her fingers under the title. She spoke softly, hauntingly.
"Mulder, I think now that the real quest began long before we started trying to find a way out of those mountains. Long before we even crashed. Our careers in the FBI, the pressure in our lives, the drive we all felt for achievement, pushing ourselves, striving every day for something we could never pin down. And I didn't even know I was searching then, much less what I was searching for. And now ... for the first time in my life, things feel clear."
She paused, searching his eyes, hoping he understood.
"What do you think it's about?" he asked.
She considered the question. "About a better way of life. About balance in our hearts, in our lives and in the world. A group of very different people who overcame human faults to truly find each other. Something everyone in the world searches for. Something so few ever find."
"About goodness," Mulder filled in softly. "About love."
"And about beauty," Scully finished. "Because I think now that beauty and horror come together, and you can't know either unless you understand the other. And in being exposed to those powerful hours, it was like a door was unlocked for us through which we could experience the overwhelming beauty of the world."
Mulder nodded, and his eyes found the pile of psychiatry books on the coffee table. "In the same way time stops for a family when their loved one is rushed to hospital, or any time we attend a funeral and see our own mortality right before our eyes. And that door opens and we suddenly rise above our petty concerns, the everyday meaningless irritations that corrupt our souls. But I think the difference for us is that that door never closed again."
"Mulder, I don't want to close it," Scully said, heart still pounding.
"It takes a special person to say that," Mulder said, love and awe in his eyes. "To be struck down by the brutality of the world and have the strength to get up again and instead of feeling bitterness and resentment, feeling the real power and beauty of the experience."
"We were lucky," Scully said, her voice trembling. "We were so, so lucky."
She met his eyes and saw tears there, but like her own, it was not for sadness. They were tears of awe, tears of love and tears of revelation. And heart pounding with so much love it was painful, Scully slowly leaned forward and captured Mulder's lips with her own.
It was heaven. She felt him remove the book from her hands, and his fingers then gently wove into her hair as they each shifted closer. Their mouths opened in slow kissing that was intense with love as he stroked her hair and then as his other hand came to the front of her robe, unravelling the knot. Her own hands swooped to his t-shirt, lifting it up and needing him closer. Not in body, not in wanton flesh or passionate blood, but in a need to have him - his heart and soul, to have her soul mate as close as possible even though it would never be close enough.
"God, I love you Scully," Mulder breathed, as his lips left hers for her cheek and hairline. She leaned back on the couch as his body enveloped her. She pulled his t-shirt over his head.
"Dr Scully," she corrected, her chest heaving up and down as he leaned over her, her hands stroking his chest and back.
He kissed her again, increasing in passion as one of his hands darted under her, undoing her bra.
His lips brushed her ear. "In your medical analysis, did you find ever find a cure?"
Scully closed her eyes as his lips brushed over hers again, and she felt the cool air of the room hit her now bare breasts, nipples peaked and ready for attention.
"I found a treatment," Scully said, as he obliged and bent over to show them his love and well-practiced talent.
"And what's that?" he asked, as he made his way back up to her lips, missing her already and unable to bear the temporary separation.
Scully tugged down his pyjama pants.
"You're a profiler, Mulder. Read me."
I think Scully really needed to make sense of everything and get it all down and understood before she could relax enough to resume her romance with Mulder. The book was like a therapeutic release, and once it was all down and out she was left with none of the pain and just an unexplainable feeling of being overwhelmed with so many feelings, which were all channeled then into Mulder. I hope this came through and you get where I'm coming from with this. It's also a shorter chapter than usual, but hey, this felt like such a natural ending I just went with it! Hope you enjoyed.