XXXXXXXX
Charles Scully put his arm around his sister, exhaling slowly. This was a
tough week for him, just watching her go through everything. Dana was
normally so string, so tough, so independent. Seeing her fall apart like
this was difficult.
No, it scared him beyond belief.
She was an emotional wreck...and Bill sure wasn't much help. He hated
Mulder...his theory was that once Dana got past her grief, she'd be better
off without him in the long run. Oh, he'd never mentioned this to her
face...but she sensed it.
His mother was pretty upset too...Charles got the sense that she had more or
less adopted the man as one of her own...losing him now was like losing
another child.
So, all in all, the past week had been pretty lousy. He almost wished he
hadn't come for vacation *this* week--but, then, he was glad that he was able
to be there to help them get through this.
"Oh, Chuck..." Dana sobbed, accepting his comforting embrace. "I'm
absolutely lost without him."
Chuck. She never called him that. Charlie, sometimes...but not Chuck. Only
when she was *really* upset. Which she definitely was now.
"Oh, Danny," Charles pacified her, using his pet name for his sister, "you'll
survive. You're a fighter. I mean, Billy didn't give me *all* those bruises
growing up!"
She laughed mirthlessly. "Screw Billy. He doesn't care. He's probably glad
Mulder's dead."
Charles didn't want to flat-out *lie* to her...but did stretching the truth a
little count? "He's just worried about your safety, Dana. I'm sure he
didn't want Mulder to *die*..."
"Yeah. Sure, fine, whatever." She didn't really care anymore.
Charles got up, and started heading toward the kitchen. "I'm just going to
get a small snack. You want something?" She needed to eat, but Charles felt
that being subtle would work a lot better than forcing the issue. He was at
least rewarded by a raised eyebrow.
"You, Charlie? Small snack? This, coming from the child who finished off a
bag of potato chips at the age of three?"
He rolled his eyes. "*Half* a bag, okay, Danny? You're exaggerating. And
you're dodging the question besides. Do you want something or don't you?"
"Thanks, but no. I'm not really hungry."
He should've expected this. But he wasn't going to push it just yet. He'd
give her some time. Like another couple hours or so. He'd persuade her
eventually, though. Just turn on the old charm, and...
Yeah, Charlie, right. In your dreams. She's as stubborn as any other
member of this family. She won't do anything 'till she's good and ready.
Charles rejoined her in her living room, and tried to hold back a small smile
as his sister reached out to turn the radio on. As least she was showing
some level of interest in the outside world again. He was worried for a
while that she was going to start becoming agoraphobic or something.
Things progressed fairly smoothly (at least in Charles' opinion) until the
song on the radio switched from "Monday, Monday"--which actually elicited the
tiniest of smiles from her, for reasons Charles couldn't understand--to "Dead
Man's Curve". Her facial expression became stormy...azure eyes narrowed.
This wasn't a good thing.
Uncharacteristic, sheer, unbidden anger flashed across her features, as she
grabbed the clock radio, and winged it into the nearest wall. Charles yelped
in surprise.
"I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE!!!!" Dana screamed, to the heavens, or anyone else
who would listen. The shattered radio laid there on the floor, unnoticed by
either of the room's occupants.
Charles once again gathered his sister into his arms, and offered a silent
prayer heavenward. From the looks of things, it was going to be another
*very* long night.
XXXXXXXX
"Charlie?"
Only because it was his mother did Charles Scully look up. He'd had too much
going on in the past week, too many people to deal with, too many factors to
be considered. He'd had to be the strong one thus far...with Bill stuck out
at sea and unable to get back in time for Dana's funeral, Charles had to sort
of take over as the older brother. Be there for Mom. Make sure everyone was
okay. Figure out what exactly he was supposed to do with Fox Mulder...
In this respect, Charles was glad that he was the one handling things. The
man would surely have been dead by now if things were up to Bill.
"Yeah, Mom?" Charles looked back at his laptop for one second, and hit the
"send" button again for the e-mail. Nothing.
Slam head on keyboard to continue... he thought, with no small amount of
sarcasm. Sheesh, can anything *else* go wrong this week? First my sister
is murdered--again, now Hotmail's acting up? Sure, it was trivializing
things. But until he got home and could sort things out with his wife Hanna,
trivializing things seemed the only way to stay sane.
"Have you talked to Fox recently?"
So like her, to be concerned about him in the midst of her own personal
crisis. She had done most of her crying when she'd first gotten the
news...but she knew it was only now hitting him.
Denial wasn't just a river in Egypt anymore. Actually, it had become
something of an art form in recent days.
"Um, no, not since..." Well, since the funeral. Why remind her?
"Oh. Billy hasn't talked to him, has he?"
Charles swallowed. He did not particularly relish the idea of lying to his
mother...but he also didn't want to worry her...
Bill had talked to Mulder. Yeah, they'd had a real nice little one-sided
chat. Suffice it to say, it was Bill's side. And "sorry SOB" (his insult of
choice during Dana's battle with cancer) was about as *good* as it had gotten.
Margaret seemed to sense this. "Oh, wonderful. That's just *wonderful*. He
already blames himself for Dana's death, now he's just going to blame himself
even more...thanks a lot, Bill." With this, she exited the room.
Dang...he'd never heard his mother so sarcastic. It intrigued and worried
him at the same time.
The phone rang. From his mother's words and tone of voice, Charles assumed
it to be Mulder. This was only confirmed when she called him "Fox."
Shutting off his laptop, Charles sat back with a sigh. He wanted to go home.
He wanted Hanna. He wanted his sisters back so life could go back to
normal. But what was normal to begin with? How far back did one have to go?
XXXXXXXX
Scully resigned herself to the fact that: a.) She was going to have to get a
new clock radio b.) Her brother Charles was now seriously doubting her
sanity, and c.) Her life was going to have to go on. She realized by now
that this was her classic "response" to these things, more or less...sink to
the depths of depression for a few days, totally break down...then get on
with her life. Even after the worst of tragedies, life always went on. It
would always go on.
Love can touch us one time
And last for a lifetime
And never let go 'till we want.
Love was when I loved you,
One true time I hold to
In my life, we'll always go on.
"My Heart Will Go On". Celine Dion's song. The "love theme" to Titanic.
She loved that movie...had dragged Mulder to see it Valentine's Day 1998.
Something of a "pity date", admittedly...they had both gone with each other
because they didn't want to be alone. And neither of them had a date.
They'd done that the year before, too...'98 was when they realized it was
going to be a tradition. It had been a Saturday. Chilly. She remembered
the tragic end of the movie...the sweet, concerned look Mulder had given her
as she'd cried her eyes out. To him, it was a movie. To her (although she'd
never have admitted it at the time) it was a possibility. That she could
allow herself to get so close to a person who would be suddenly snatched from
her.
Well, it had happened now, hadn't it? But Rose survived after losing
Jack...and as tough as it was going to be after losing Mulder, Scully knew
she was going to have to survive. She would never give up the X-Files if she
could help it...she would carry the torch. She would learn of Samantha's
fate. She would find the Smoking Man and bring him to justice. Heck, maybe
she could even kick Krycek's butt one day. Just for old times' sake--and to
settle a score.
She had loved Mulder. She had unknowingly given him her heart, but now as
the song said, her heart was going to have to go on.
Scully didn't intend to start calling herself Dana Mulder just yet, though.
Sometimes a good thing could be taken too far.
And besides which, Bill would probably never speak to her again.
XXXXXXXX
A tiny spark of light shone through the bleakness Mulder was now calling his
life. He saw a shadowy figure sneaking along the alleyway just outside his
apartment. Deja vu. It was Krycek! Had to be! No, wait, that was last
time. This man was slightly taller, a little more muscular, and not quite as
light on his feet.
Lawson!
It was Lawson. Mulder recognized him immediately, and took full advantage of
the element of surprise. Rutger Lawson had about two inches and twenty-five
pounds on Mulder, but Mulder snuck up behind him, and was able to tackle him
easily.
"How do you like it?!" Mulder demanded, going for his gun. "How do you like
it when they sneak up on you and attack?! How do you think *Scully* liked it
when you put that knife in her?!"
Lawson muttered something in German. Mulder, fully enraged, allowed himself
a small, twisted smile. Revenge would be sweet.
"I think you just called me a bad name," Mulder mumbled to himself, recalling
the time he'd said those words to Krycek. And what had happened then? He'd
ended up in a Russian prison. Well, not this time. This time, *he* was
going to come out on top. He kicked Lawson once, in the ribs, fairly hard.
Lawson saw his opportunity a second later, and managed to trip Mulder,
allowing himself the time to jump to his feet. He swung at the agent.
Mulder--running on pure adrenaline--easily ducked the blow, and caught Lawson
with another one under the chin, knocking him over again.
"That was for my partner," Mulder explained casually. He kicked Lawson
again, catching him just under the ribs. "That was for me." He bent down to
help Lawson up, and stuck the gun in his face. "And this--well, I suppose
it's for both of us."
"Now, uh, Mulder..." Lawson began, reverting to English, "I can--"
"You can what?! You can explain? Oh, yeah, right, you were just doing your
job. I'm going to kill you anyway, so you might as well tell me the truth.
Why'd you kill her?"
The words had changed slightly, but the situation was still the same as it
had been on that cool April night nearly five years ago. Scully had been
there then. She'd shot him--ironically enough, to protect him.
"But she's not here now, is she?" Mulder mused. His glare returned to
Lawson. "And we both know why. Just tell me why you killed her!"
"Because," Lawson countered, an evil gleam in his eye, "it was *fun*. I
enjoyed it. Seeing her squirm so helplessly, that beautiful crimson blood
everywhere..."
That was the last straw. It was more than Mulder could take. He pulled the
trigger.
And the world fell to pieces around him.
XXXXXXXX
Scully sighed deeply. Picking up the tattered pieces of broken dreams was
never an easy task...and piecing them back together again was harder. But
she had begun to believe that maybe...just maybe...she was going to be able
to pull it off once again. She, like Mary Tyler Moore, would "make it after
all." It wasn't going to be simple--and nothing in her life was ever
trouble-free--but she could do this.
She was going to have to.
After all, if Fox Mulder couldn't chase after all those lights in the sky
anymore, she was going to have to do it for him. Oh, she'd be a bit more
cautious than he was, a little more skeptical as always, and a little more
discerning...but she'd also try to be a little more open to extreme
possibilities. After all, as improbable as it was, as unlikely--maybe one of
those lights *wouldn't* be Venus. She highly doubted it...but, then, which
one of them had been right, "like, 98.9% of the time"?
That was when the world shattered around her. Not like in the
accident...but, truthfully, the pieces of the world around her cracked and
broke apart. What the heck...?
XXXXXXXX
Mulder blinked, and looked around. His head hurt...and his arms were
strapped down.
Not another hospital! was his first thought. But there were no monitors
beeping, and Scully was nowhere in sight. Of course she's not...Lawson
killed her. But I gave him a taste of his own medicine...
Suddenly, he realized that he had no clue what he'd done after he'd shot
Lawson. He didn't even know if Lawson was dead or not. Probably was...the
gun had been aimed at Lawson's chest. But then again, in his blind fury,
Mulder's aim could have been way off.
"So," a voice said. "You're awake. Enjoy your dreams?"
"What?!" Mulder asked, completely clueless.
"Well, Mr. Mulder," reply came back, "you've been having some interesting
dreams from the looks of your REM patterns. Care to let me in on the
details? Or don't I have to ask?"
Suddenly, Mulder recognized the voice. It was one of the Japanese scientists
who'd helped experiment on Scully during her abduction.
"You won't get anything out of me!" Mulder maintained, feeling the surge of
vehemence return. He'd wanted to get his hands on these people for years.
"You wanted Lawson to kill her, didn't you? To cover up your tests! You
already gave her cancer, and she just barely survived that! Is that why you
give these women cancer? Is it?! To kill them so there won't be any proof
left?!"
"If you'll recall," the scientist sighed, sounding bored, "there was a chip
implanted in your precious Agent Scully's neck--as with all the women we've
used in our research. It wasn't *our* fault they had them removed."
"Wouldn't you have?!" Mulder demanded. He'd probably have hit this guy in
his self-righteous face if his arms hadn't been tied down. "And is that all
they are to you? Research tools? Lab rats? Well, some people out there
care about them, you know! They have family! Friends! People who love
them!"
"Like yourself?" the man suggested.
"Yes!" Mulder hissed.
"We didn't do everything, you realize," the scientist explained. "After all,
Agent Mulder, we're only helping in this venture. "In any case, you should
know that my name is Thai Jun. *Doctor* Thai Jun, if it means anything to
you. We're doing some research into dream patterns and the subconscious--you
and your partner were perfect for it. And I'll let you up if you promise not
to do anything rash."
No promises, Mulder thought, but made his face the perfect picture of
innocence. "I promise."
"Good," Jun responded, and undid the restraints. Mulder took his shot when
he had it. He shoved Jun away and into a nearby table, stunning the
scientist. With this, he ran out the door, hoping he'd be able to quickly
locate a fast way out.
XXXXXXXX
Scully moaned softly and batted her eyes open. Wow...whatever she'd taken
had a kick to it. She turned her head slightly to the left, and screamed.
One of the scientists she vaguely recognized from her abduction was standing
right next to her.
"Miss Scully," he greeted her. "You're awake. Very good."
"What have you done with me?!" she challenged him. "I won't let you! Not
again!"
He blew air between his lips in a very uninterested manner. "You can
certainly get your Irish up, can't you? Shouldn't surprise me...redheads can
be like that." He walked over, and started to undo the straps on her upper
arms. "Just a little dream research, my dear. You and your partner made
ideal subjects. And besides which, I liked you. Hated to let you go. But
with that nasty little incident with the Purity Control...we had to get you
to a hospital."
"*What*...*on*...*earth*...*are*...*you*...*talking*...*about*?" Scully
growled at him, each word laced with pure acid.
"Long story," he said dismissively. "And you're not ready for it. Trust me."
"I wouldn't trust you any farther than I could throw you." Scully sat up on
the table, and glared at her captor. She'd been through this crap once
before, and once was enough. More than enough. "Were they with you? The
two people in the Dodge? Were they trying to kill Mulder?"
"Believe what you like, dear," the scientist informed her. "In any case, my
name is..."
He didn't get the chance to tell her, because she surprised him with a quick
blow to the jaw, and shoved him against a cabinet, letting him hit his head
just enough to knock him out.
"Never again," she told him, every word venom. "*Never*. And don't call me
'dear'!"
She ran out the door.
XXXXXXXX
Mulder raced down the hallway, wishing he had a better idea of where he was
so he could get out.
XXXXXXXX
Scully raced down the hallway, wishing she had a better idea of where she was
so she could get out.
XXXXXXXX
In his hurry, Mulder didn't see the small auburn-haired woman headed straight
for him.
XXXXXXXX
In her hurry, Scully didn't see the tall brown-haired man headed straight for
her.
XXXXXXXX
Mulder ran straight into her, falling backwards.
XXXXXXXX
Scully ran straight into him, falling backwards.
XXXXXXXX
Mulder looked up. "Miss, I'm so sorry..." He broke off as he realized just
who it was.
XXXXXXXX
Scully looked up. "I'm so sorry, sir..." She broke off as she realized just
who it was.
XXXXXXXX
"*Scully*?!"
XXXXXXXX
"*Mulder*?!"
XXXXXXXX
"I thought you were dead!" they both exclaimed.
"*I* was dead?" they asked in unison, then started laughing.
Mulder stood up, and helped Scully to her felt. They embraced instantly.
"So how did I die?" Scully asked casually.
Mulder was caught off-guard. "Um...some guy named Rutger Lawson stabbed
you..." A thought occurred to him. "What about me? How did I die?"
Scully shrugged. "Car accident. But I think it was set up."
"You, Scully? Maybe we've been together for too long!" He paused. "Car
accident. Sheesh. After all these years, I'd expect something a little more
exotic. But oh, well. They question is, since we're both not dead,
obviously, what really happened?"
They both thought about this, and came up with the same answer at the same
time.
"Dream research!"
"They planted those thoughts in our minds..." Scully explained, just in case
her partner hadn't figured it out.
"Yeah, I got it," he assured her. "Let's get out of here, G-woman."
"I'm all for that. Too bad we missed Valentine's Day."
He checked his watch. "Actually, we didn't. It's still February 14. Let's
get out of here...and we'll catch a movie or something. Your choice."
"Wow, thanks. Sounds good to me, G-man. And since it *is* Valentine's
Day...I want to tell you that I love you. Right here, right now. No drugs.
Really, I do love you."
"That's good," Mulder answered, "because I love you too. I meant it when I
said it the first time. I've always loved you, Scully."
They stopped a moment to share a sweet kiss--filled with promise for the
future. And both knew that they would never take the other for granted again.
XXXXXXXX
THE END
XXXXXXXX
EPILOGUE:
Two days later, Skinner's office (Note: if you haven't seen "Field Trip", you
might not get this.)
"Welcome back, Agents," the AD told them, grinning. He smiled at the file in
his hand. "It's certainly a are day when both of you sign off on the same
report. It was only Japanese scientists? No aliens, Mulder?"
"Not this time, sir," Mulder replied, smiling. "That's not to say that
they're not out there." Something occurred to him. "Rare day...the same
report...Scully? You don't think that...?"
"Mulder," his partner answered firmly, "don't even *think* it."
XXXXXXXX
END NOTES: I can't remember what date I started this on, but after what has
to be about 4 months of work (not to mention the time I toyed with the idea
beforehand), I finally completed this story on May 17, 2000. It's been my
pet project, and I'm particularly proud of it. I need feedback, people,
please. But now I also need a new pet project! Ah, well, that's what fanfic
challenges are for, right? *Grins* I know I can always count on the Church of
X!
And my friend Lacye, who has been my editor, proofreader, and critique since
the beginning. In fact, she was reading over my shoulder as I typed out the
first sentences one lazy afternoon during Journalism class... And she, of
course, hit me several times with my own work (she hates Mulder Torture about
as much as I love it--but at least does admit he's at his cutest when he's
hurt), refused to speak to me for nearly 15 minutes, screamed in shock, came
close to shedding a few tears (don't think no one saw ya, Lace!) :p, and made
me re-write the scene with Vicki giving Scully her cell phone back about 4
times until it met her satisfaction, enlisting the opinions of others to
convince me that I was blind as a bat in this case, she was right, and I'd
better change it! Thanks, Lacye, I really do appreciate it--especially all
those words of encouragement when I was feeling a bit unsure about the work
itself. Yeah, sure, the scene with Marita is kind of a lull, but, hey, it's
just one scene. I'm grateful, really. So, Lacye, this one's for you! Yeah,
I dedicated a whole *story* to you, girl. (She'll be insufferable for at
least a month...and Shauna's gonna kick my @$$ if I don't dedicate something
to her soon--then there's Beth...what have I gotten myself into?) :-P In
fact, it was a comment Lacye made to me several months ago (before this
little gem was even a figment of my all-too-overactive imagination) that
helped out a lot here. She told me I should write a fic that had the
following in it:
Krycek (Evil shouldn't look so good!)
Frohike's crush on Scully (as if I could forget...my little Frog Prince!)
Mentions of Samantha
MSR (right, like I was gonna leave that out!)
I think I got 'em, plus a few extras! Okay, I couldn't resist the
woman-scorned thing. Actually, I think Lacye was, at the time, being a smart
aleck, as usual. But, hey, it gets results! :) As for the medical/anatomy
info in the story...I love Mosby's Medical Encyclopedia! But I'm going to be
a doctor, so I suppose it's good practice. *Smiles wryly*
Okay, I'm rambling, sorry. Tend to do that when I'm wrapping up. Thanks for
bearing with me, hope to hear from you. Share with me, people!
Kate
5/17/00
Charles Scully put his arm around his sister, exhaling slowly. This was a
tough week for him, just watching her go through everything. Dana was
normally so string, so tough, so independent. Seeing her fall apart like
this was difficult.
No, it scared him beyond belief.
She was an emotional wreck...and Bill sure wasn't much help. He hated
Mulder...his theory was that once Dana got past her grief, she'd be better
off without him in the long run. Oh, he'd never mentioned this to her
face...but she sensed it.
His mother was pretty upset too...Charles got the sense that she had more or
less adopted the man as one of her own...losing him now was like losing
another child.
So, all in all, the past week had been pretty lousy. He almost wished he
hadn't come for vacation *this* week--but, then, he was glad that he was able
to be there to help them get through this.
"Oh, Chuck..." Dana sobbed, accepting his comforting embrace. "I'm
absolutely lost without him."
Chuck. She never called him that. Charlie, sometimes...but not Chuck. Only
when she was *really* upset. Which she definitely was now.
"Oh, Danny," Charles pacified her, using his pet name for his sister, "you'll
survive. You're a fighter. I mean, Billy didn't give me *all* those bruises
growing up!"
She laughed mirthlessly. "Screw Billy. He doesn't care. He's probably glad
Mulder's dead."
Charles didn't want to flat-out *lie* to her...but did stretching the truth a
little count? "He's just worried about your safety, Dana. I'm sure he
didn't want Mulder to *die*..."
"Yeah. Sure, fine, whatever." She didn't really care anymore.
Charles got up, and started heading toward the kitchen. "I'm just going to
get a small snack. You want something?" She needed to eat, but Charles felt
that being subtle would work a lot better than forcing the issue. He was at
least rewarded by a raised eyebrow.
"You, Charlie? Small snack? This, coming from the child who finished off a
bag of potato chips at the age of three?"
He rolled his eyes. "*Half* a bag, okay, Danny? You're exaggerating. And
you're dodging the question besides. Do you want something or don't you?"
"Thanks, but no. I'm not really hungry."
He should've expected this. But he wasn't going to push it just yet. He'd
give her some time. Like another couple hours or so. He'd persuade her
eventually, though. Just turn on the old charm, and...
Yeah, Charlie, right. In your dreams. She's as stubborn as any other
member of this family. She won't do anything 'till she's good and ready.
Charles rejoined her in her living room, and tried to hold back a small smile
as his sister reached out to turn the radio on. As least she was showing
some level of interest in the outside world again. He was worried for a
while that she was going to start becoming agoraphobic or something.
Things progressed fairly smoothly (at least in Charles' opinion) until the
song on the radio switched from "Monday, Monday"--which actually elicited the
tiniest of smiles from her, for reasons Charles couldn't understand--to "Dead
Man's Curve". Her facial expression became stormy...azure eyes narrowed.
This wasn't a good thing.
Uncharacteristic, sheer, unbidden anger flashed across her features, as she
grabbed the clock radio, and winged it into the nearest wall. Charles yelped
in surprise.
"I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE!!!!" Dana screamed, to the heavens, or anyone else
who would listen. The shattered radio laid there on the floor, unnoticed by
either of the room's occupants.
Charles once again gathered his sister into his arms, and offered a silent
prayer heavenward. From the looks of things, it was going to be another
*very* long night.
XXXXXXXX
"Charlie?"
Only because it was his mother did Charles Scully look up. He'd had too much
going on in the past week, too many people to deal with, too many factors to
be considered. He'd had to be the strong one thus far...with Bill stuck out
at sea and unable to get back in time for Dana's funeral, Charles had to sort
of take over as the older brother. Be there for Mom. Make sure everyone was
okay. Figure out what exactly he was supposed to do with Fox Mulder...
In this respect, Charles was glad that he was the one handling things. The
man would surely have been dead by now if things were up to Bill.
"Yeah, Mom?" Charles looked back at his laptop for one second, and hit the
"send" button again for the e-mail. Nothing.
Slam head on keyboard to continue... he thought, with no small amount of
sarcasm. Sheesh, can anything *else* go wrong this week? First my sister
is murdered--again, now Hotmail's acting up? Sure, it was trivializing
things. But until he got home and could sort things out with his wife Hanna,
trivializing things seemed the only way to stay sane.
"Have you talked to Fox recently?"
So like her, to be concerned about him in the midst of her own personal
crisis. She had done most of her crying when she'd first gotten the
news...but she knew it was only now hitting him.
Denial wasn't just a river in Egypt anymore. Actually, it had become
something of an art form in recent days.
"Um, no, not since..." Well, since the funeral. Why remind her?
"Oh. Billy hasn't talked to him, has he?"
Charles swallowed. He did not particularly relish the idea of lying to his
mother...but he also didn't want to worry her...
Bill had talked to Mulder. Yeah, they'd had a real nice little one-sided
chat. Suffice it to say, it was Bill's side. And "sorry SOB" (his insult of
choice during Dana's battle with cancer) was about as *good* as it had gotten.
Margaret seemed to sense this. "Oh, wonderful. That's just *wonderful*. He
already blames himself for Dana's death, now he's just going to blame himself
even more...thanks a lot, Bill." With this, she exited the room.
Dang...he'd never heard his mother so sarcastic. It intrigued and worried
him at the same time.
The phone rang. From his mother's words and tone of voice, Charles assumed
it to be Mulder. This was only confirmed when she called him "Fox."
Shutting off his laptop, Charles sat back with a sigh. He wanted to go home.
He wanted Hanna. He wanted his sisters back so life could go back to
normal. But what was normal to begin with? How far back did one have to go?
XXXXXXXX
Scully resigned herself to the fact that: a.) She was going to have to get a
new clock radio b.) Her brother Charles was now seriously doubting her
sanity, and c.) Her life was going to have to go on. She realized by now
that this was her classic "response" to these things, more or less...sink to
the depths of depression for a few days, totally break down...then get on
with her life. Even after the worst of tragedies, life always went on. It
would always go on.
Love can touch us one time
And last for a lifetime
And never let go 'till we want.
Love was when I loved you,
One true time I hold to
In my life, we'll always go on.
"My Heart Will Go On". Celine Dion's song. The "love theme" to Titanic.
She loved that movie...had dragged Mulder to see it Valentine's Day 1998.
Something of a "pity date", admittedly...they had both gone with each other
because they didn't want to be alone. And neither of them had a date.
They'd done that the year before, too...'98 was when they realized it was
going to be a tradition. It had been a Saturday. Chilly. She remembered
the tragic end of the movie...the sweet, concerned look Mulder had given her
as she'd cried her eyes out. To him, it was a movie. To her (although she'd
never have admitted it at the time) it was a possibility. That she could
allow herself to get so close to a person who would be suddenly snatched from
her.
Well, it had happened now, hadn't it? But Rose survived after losing
Jack...and as tough as it was going to be after losing Mulder, Scully knew
she was going to have to survive. She would never give up the X-Files if she
could help it...she would carry the torch. She would learn of Samantha's
fate. She would find the Smoking Man and bring him to justice. Heck, maybe
she could even kick Krycek's butt one day. Just for old times' sake--and to
settle a score.
She had loved Mulder. She had unknowingly given him her heart, but now as
the song said, her heart was going to have to go on.
Scully didn't intend to start calling herself Dana Mulder just yet, though.
Sometimes a good thing could be taken too far.
And besides which, Bill would probably never speak to her again.
XXXXXXXX
A tiny spark of light shone through the bleakness Mulder was now calling his
life. He saw a shadowy figure sneaking along the alleyway just outside his
apartment. Deja vu. It was Krycek! Had to be! No, wait, that was last
time. This man was slightly taller, a little more muscular, and not quite as
light on his feet.
Lawson!
It was Lawson. Mulder recognized him immediately, and took full advantage of
the element of surprise. Rutger Lawson had about two inches and twenty-five
pounds on Mulder, but Mulder snuck up behind him, and was able to tackle him
easily.
"How do you like it?!" Mulder demanded, going for his gun. "How do you like
it when they sneak up on you and attack?! How do you think *Scully* liked it
when you put that knife in her?!"
Lawson muttered something in German. Mulder, fully enraged, allowed himself
a small, twisted smile. Revenge would be sweet.
"I think you just called me a bad name," Mulder mumbled to himself, recalling
the time he'd said those words to Krycek. And what had happened then? He'd
ended up in a Russian prison. Well, not this time. This time, *he* was
going to come out on top. He kicked Lawson once, in the ribs, fairly hard.
Lawson saw his opportunity a second later, and managed to trip Mulder,
allowing himself the time to jump to his feet. He swung at the agent.
Mulder--running on pure adrenaline--easily ducked the blow, and caught Lawson
with another one under the chin, knocking him over again.
"That was for my partner," Mulder explained casually. He kicked Lawson
again, catching him just under the ribs. "That was for me." He bent down to
help Lawson up, and stuck the gun in his face. "And this--well, I suppose
it's for both of us."
"Now, uh, Mulder..." Lawson began, reverting to English, "I can--"
"You can what?! You can explain? Oh, yeah, right, you were just doing your
job. I'm going to kill you anyway, so you might as well tell me the truth.
Why'd you kill her?"
The words had changed slightly, but the situation was still the same as it
had been on that cool April night nearly five years ago. Scully had been
there then. She'd shot him--ironically enough, to protect him.
"But she's not here now, is she?" Mulder mused. His glare returned to
Lawson. "And we both know why. Just tell me why you killed her!"
"Because," Lawson countered, an evil gleam in his eye, "it was *fun*. I
enjoyed it. Seeing her squirm so helplessly, that beautiful crimson blood
everywhere..."
That was the last straw. It was more than Mulder could take. He pulled the
trigger.
And the world fell to pieces around him.
XXXXXXXX
Scully sighed deeply. Picking up the tattered pieces of broken dreams was
never an easy task...and piecing them back together again was harder. But
she had begun to believe that maybe...just maybe...she was going to be able
to pull it off once again. She, like Mary Tyler Moore, would "make it after
all." It wasn't going to be simple--and nothing in her life was ever
trouble-free--but she could do this.
She was going to have to.
After all, if Fox Mulder couldn't chase after all those lights in the sky
anymore, she was going to have to do it for him. Oh, she'd be a bit more
cautious than he was, a little more skeptical as always, and a little more
discerning...but she'd also try to be a little more open to extreme
possibilities. After all, as improbable as it was, as unlikely--maybe one of
those lights *wouldn't* be Venus. She highly doubted it...but, then, which
one of them had been right, "like, 98.9% of the time"?
That was when the world shattered around her. Not like in the
accident...but, truthfully, the pieces of the world around her cracked and
broke apart. What the heck...?
XXXXXXXX
Mulder blinked, and looked around. His head hurt...and his arms were
strapped down.
Not another hospital! was his first thought. But there were no monitors
beeping, and Scully was nowhere in sight. Of course she's not...Lawson
killed her. But I gave him a taste of his own medicine...
Suddenly, he realized that he had no clue what he'd done after he'd shot
Lawson. He didn't even know if Lawson was dead or not. Probably was...the
gun had been aimed at Lawson's chest. But then again, in his blind fury,
Mulder's aim could have been way off.
"So," a voice said. "You're awake. Enjoy your dreams?"
"What?!" Mulder asked, completely clueless.
"Well, Mr. Mulder," reply came back, "you've been having some interesting
dreams from the looks of your REM patterns. Care to let me in on the
details? Or don't I have to ask?"
Suddenly, Mulder recognized the voice. It was one of the Japanese scientists
who'd helped experiment on Scully during her abduction.
"You won't get anything out of me!" Mulder maintained, feeling the surge of
vehemence return. He'd wanted to get his hands on these people for years.
"You wanted Lawson to kill her, didn't you? To cover up your tests! You
already gave her cancer, and she just barely survived that! Is that why you
give these women cancer? Is it?! To kill them so there won't be any proof
left?!"
"If you'll recall," the scientist sighed, sounding bored, "there was a chip
implanted in your precious Agent Scully's neck--as with all the women we've
used in our research. It wasn't *our* fault they had them removed."
"Wouldn't you have?!" Mulder demanded. He'd probably have hit this guy in
his self-righteous face if his arms hadn't been tied down. "And is that all
they are to you? Research tools? Lab rats? Well, some people out there
care about them, you know! They have family! Friends! People who love
them!"
"Like yourself?" the man suggested.
"Yes!" Mulder hissed.
"We didn't do everything, you realize," the scientist explained. "After all,
Agent Mulder, we're only helping in this venture. "In any case, you should
know that my name is Thai Jun. *Doctor* Thai Jun, if it means anything to
you. We're doing some research into dream patterns and the subconscious--you
and your partner were perfect for it. And I'll let you up if you promise not
to do anything rash."
No promises, Mulder thought, but made his face the perfect picture of
innocence. "I promise."
"Good," Jun responded, and undid the restraints. Mulder took his shot when
he had it. He shoved Jun away and into a nearby table, stunning the
scientist. With this, he ran out the door, hoping he'd be able to quickly
locate a fast way out.
XXXXXXXX
Scully moaned softly and batted her eyes open. Wow...whatever she'd taken
had a kick to it. She turned her head slightly to the left, and screamed.
One of the scientists she vaguely recognized from her abduction was standing
right next to her.
"Miss Scully," he greeted her. "You're awake. Very good."
"What have you done with me?!" she challenged him. "I won't let you! Not
again!"
He blew air between his lips in a very uninterested manner. "You can
certainly get your Irish up, can't you? Shouldn't surprise me...redheads can
be like that." He walked over, and started to undo the straps on her upper
arms. "Just a little dream research, my dear. You and your partner made
ideal subjects. And besides which, I liked you. Hated to let you go. But
with that nasty little incident with the Purity Control...we had to get you
to a hospital."
"*What*...*on*...*earth*...*are*...*you*...*talking*...*about*?" Scully
growled at him, each word laced with pure acid.
"Long story," he said dismissively. "And you're not ready for it. Trust me."
"I wouldn't trust you any farther than I could throw you." Scully sat up on
the table, and glared at her captor. She'd been through this crap once
before, and once was enough. More than enough. "Were they with you? The
two people in the Dodge? Were they trying to kill Mulder?"
"Believe what you like, dear," the scientist informed her. "In any case, my
name is..."
He didn't get the chance to tell her, because she surprised him with a quick
blow to the jaw, and shoved him against a cabinet, letting him hit his head
just enough to knock him out.
"Never again," she told him, every word venom. "*Never*. And don't call me
'dear'!"
She ran out the door.
XXXXXXXX
Mulder raced down the hallway, wishing he had a better idea of where he was
so he could get out.
XXXXXXXX
Scully raced down the hallway, wishing she had a better idea of where she was
so she could get out.
XXXXXXXX
In his hurry, Mulder didn't see the small auburn-haired woman headed straight
for him.
XXXXXXXX
In her hurry, Scully didn't see the tall brown-haired man headed straight for
her.
XXXXXXXX
Mulder ran straight into her, falling backwards.
XXXXXXXX
Scully ran straight into him, falling backwards.
XXXXXXXX
Mulder looked up. "Miss, I'm so sorry..." He broke off as he realized just
who it was.
XXXXXXXX
Scully looked up. "I'm so sorry, sir..." She broke off as she realized just
who it was.
XXXXXXXX
"*Scully*?!"
XXXXXXXX
"*Mulder*?!"
XXXXXXXX
"I thought you were dead!" they both exclaimed.
"*I* was dead?" they asked in unison, then started laughing.
Mulder stood up, and helped Scully to her felt. They embraced instantly.
"So how did I die?" Scully asked casually.
Mulder was caught off-guard. "Um...some guy named Rutger Lawson stabbed
you..." A thought occurred to him. "What about me? How did I die?"
Scully shrugged. "Car accident. But I think it was set up."
"You, Scully? Maybe we've been together for too long!" He paused. "Car
accident. Sheesh. After all these years, I'd expect something a little more
exotic. But oh, well. They question is, since we're both not dead,
obviously, what really happened?"
They both thought about this, and came up with the same answer at the same
time.
"Dream research!"
"They planted those thoughts in our minds..." Scully explained, just in case
her partner hadn't figured it out.
"Yeah, I got it," he assured her. "Let's get out of here, G-woman."
"I'm all for that. Too bad we missed Valentine's Day."
He checked his watch. "Actually, we didn't. It's still February 14. Let's
get out of here...and we'll catch a movie or something. Your choice."
"Wow, thanks. Sounds good to me, G-man. And since it *is* Valentine's
Day...I want to tell you that I love you. Right here, right now. No drugs.
Really, I do love you."
"That's good," Mulder answered, "because I love you too. I meant it when I
said it the first time. I've always loved you, Scully."
They stopped a moment to share a sweet kiss--filled with promise for the
future. And both knew that they would never take the other for granted again.
XXXXXXXX
THE END
XXXXXXXX
EPILOGUE:
Two days later, Skinner's office (Note: if you haven't seen "Field Trip", you
might not get this.)
"Welcome back, Agents," the AD told them, grinning. He smiled at the file in
his hand. "It's certainly a are day when both of you sign off on the same
report. It was only Japanese scientists? No aliens, Mulder?"
"Not this time, sir," Mulder replied, smiling. "That's not to say that
they're not out there." Something occurred to him. "Rare day...the same
report...Scully? You don't think that...?"
"Mulder," his partner answered firmly, "don't even *think* it."
XXXXXXXX
END NOTES: I can't remember what date I started this on, but after what has
to be about 4 months of work (not to mention the time I toyed with the idea
beforehand), I finally completed this story on May 17, 2000. It's been my
pet project, and I'm particularly proud of it. I need feedback, people,
please. But now I also need a new pet project! Ah, well, that's what fanfic
challenges are for, right? *Grins* I know I can always count on the Church of
X!
And my friend Lacye, who has been my editor, proofreader, and critique since
the beginning. In fact, she was reading over my shoulder as I typed out the
first sentences one lazy afternoon during Journalism class... And she, of
course, hit me several times with my own work (she hates Mulder Torture about
as much as I love it--but at least does admit he's at his cutest when he's
hurt), refused to speak to me for nearly 15 minutes, screamed in shock, came
close to shedding a few tears (don't think no one saw ya, Lace!) :p, and made
me re-write the scene with Vicki giving Scully her cell phone back about 4
times until it met her satisfaction, enlisting the opinions of others to
convince me that I was blind as a bat in this case, she was right, and I'd
better change it! Thanks, Lacye, I really do appreciate it--especially all
those words of encouragement when I was feeling a bit unsure about the work
itself. Yeah, sure, the scene with Marita is kind of a lull, but, hey, it's
just one scene. I'm grateful, really. So, Lacye, this one's for you! Yeah,
I dedicated a whole *story* to you, girl. (She'll be insufferable for at
least a month...and Shauna's gonna kick my @$$ if I don't dedicate something
to her soon--then there's Beth...what have I gotten myself into?) :-P In
fact, it was a comment Lacye made to me several months ago (before this
little gem was even a figment of my all-too-overactive imagination) that
helped out a lot here. She told me I should write a fic that had the
following in it:
Krycek (Evil shouldn't look so good!)
Frohike's crush on Scully (as if I could forget...my little Frog Prince!)
Mentions of Samantha
MSR (right, like I was gonna leave that out!)
I think I got 'em, plus a few extras! Okay, I couldn't resist the
woman-scorned thing. Actually, I think Lacye was, at the time, being a smart
aleck, as usual. But, hey, it gets results! :) As for the medical/anatomy
info in the story...I love Mosby's Medical Encyclopedia! But I'm going to be
a doctor, so I suppose it's good practice. *Smiles wryly*
Okay, I'm rambling, sorry. Tend to do that when I'm wrapping up. Thanks for
bearing with me, hope to hear from you. Share with me, people!
Kate
5/17/00