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Vera and I talked about trivial things for awhile after I regained consciousness. But I knew that there was something she was holding back, something she didn't want to have to tell me.
"Vera, what's wrong?" I asked.
She smiled as best she could, given the inner turmoil she had to be experiencing. "What are you talking about?"
"Come on, Vera. You can't hide this from me for long. I'm going to find out sooner or later, honey, and I'd rather it be sooner. I know there's something more."
She looked down and away, her green eyes feeling with tears. "Mom...maybe this should wait until you're feeling a little better."
"Vera, I feel fine!" I hadn't meant to snap at her, but I really needed to know what had happened.
She told me then. There had only been 7 survivors of that particular alien holocaust. She and I had lived...along with Langly, who was in bad shape, but alive. Byers and Frohike had been killed along with the others.
I couldn't believe it. I had needed them in my life for so long as my confidants, my own personal support system. And they were gone. I started crying, and I don't think I stopped for nearly six hours. I knew that Vera was wishing she'd waited to break the news to me, but I was glad I knew. If I'd held false hopes that they were alive beforehand, and then been told the truth, I don't know what I would have done.
It took me a long time before I was able to go on with my life again. I may have experienced a lot of personal losses before, but that didn't make dealing with them any easier. Langly was a wreck as well--he'd been even closer to them than I had. Vera did what she could for us, but she was only faring slightly better than we were in dealing with it.
After we'd gotten past the initial period of grief, we started trying to sort out what had happened that night. This was when I'd started denying that there had been aliens there that night. Langly and Vera couldn't believe it...but sad to say, that was so typical of me back then. Throw out everything I'd seen, chalk it up to stress...just because it conflicted with what I wanted to believe. I was supposed to be an objective scientist--but sometimes I wasn't very objective at all. It amazes me now--knowing what I know, seeing what I've seen--that I could have ever been so blind.
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Things got better, for a while. I told Vera and Langly about my immortality as I knew it...they were shocked, to say the least. Shocked that I would live forever, shocked that I believed it. They dealt with it remarkably well, though. I mean, I didn't really expect that. You find out someone you're close to is going to live forever--knowing full well that you won't--ideally, you think that would be a good thing. You won't have to worry about losing them. But you would also feel separated from them...they're not on the same level as you anymore. Langly and Vera never saw the negative side of the equation--or if they did, they never let it show. And I blessed them for that.
I never told anyone else but them--this was information that my family didn't really need, with the exception of Vera. And other than Langly, I didn't have anyone left but my family.
I had no idea just how vital Vera was to the equation back then. She was my daughter; she meant the world to me, of course. But I didn't know--I could never have known--just how much she meant to the world.
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March 28, 2053, came all too soon.
I'd undergone a few changes by then, of course. People were certainly going to question why an 88-year-old woman didn't look any more than 45. So Dana Scully had died on April 2, 2052, and Laura Foxx had appeared.
By the time the war started, Vera had just turned 52. But she denied her age very well--as did most of the women in my family, and I'm not counting myself. She was also one of those people who acted and felt a lot younger than she really was. She looked about 40, and acted about 25. So it was a good combination for her--especially considering what was to come.
World War III was a nuclear war, but we didn't start it out that way. No one intended for that to happen, it just sort of...did. Here's the main thing, though. The one thing you would never have suspected, even in your wildest dreams. The ECON? Eastern Coalition? Our main adversaries in that war? They were colonists.
Not colonists like in the 1700's, colonists as in alien colonists. The people the Bounty Hunter and his kind were after for a sort of nonconformity to the "rules" as they saw them. They were aliens.
First contact was officially in 2063, when the Vulcans landed in that Montana clearing. But it happened much before that, with only a select few ever knowing. A corrupt few, I might add. Their intentions, I suppose, were good enough--to prevent the aliens from colonizing, taking over, and turning humanity into a slave race--but their methods were pure evil. These people sacrificed family members to the Project, never giving it a second thought. They murdered hundreds of people...and that's not even half of it. And, in the end, their efforts failed. The date for colonization to begin was set--even though it had apparently been delayed--and nothing could discourage the colonists from thinking that the human race had forfeited their planet. Left it open for another species to inhabit.
They certainly weren't subtle. Before it turned to nuclear weapons, it was a biological war. They released an alien virus that would make humans host to their young. It had been loose for years, anyway, but never near any areas of large population. Never intentionally. I'd actually survived the virus previously, due to a weak vaccine the Syndicate had developed and given to Mulder. I'm not sure if Vera was given immunity to the virus during the events that were necessary for her conception, or if she'd somehow inherited it from me...but she was immune as well. I was eternally grateful for that--Vera was the only person I had left in the world by that point. Everyone else had died, whether it had been from natural causes or not. Well, except for a my niece and a couple of my nephews...but they perished in the early days of the war.
Those of us who managed to survive lived in camps set up on our own, with the few possessions we had left. You saw in Montana what it was like. We became nomadic and tough as nails. We'd move when we had to, do whatever we could. Rule Number One was simple: Do whatever you have to do to stay alive.
The nuclear weapons came later, after the colonists had all the "hosts" and slaves they needed. I guess their theory was "take what you need, annihilate the rest". That made things a lot tougher. We couldn't hang around on the outskirts of cities anymore; the blast radius was too wide. We had to retreat to the middle of nowhere--backwoods, out of the way areas. From there, we had no clue what was going on...and we never knew if that was a good thing or not. And, of course, our armies fought back--causing more destruction.
As they took the cities, the colonists invaded them and took up residence. But since they were able to take human form, no one would have ever known that they were not of that world. Vera and I knew immediately, once we got reports of the alien virus. I didn't want to believe--and I still don't think I ever accepted extraterrestrial existence until the official first contact--but a tiny part of me knew that colonization had come.
It was hell. If you thought the post-atomic horror was bad, just think about the atomic horror. Countries were uniting against the threat--some united with the colonists out of fear. Some were forced to. The Rebels stayed away--we actually could have used their help. But for whatever reason, they decided to keep out of it.
300 million people died in that war, Beverly. 300 *million*. To this day, I cannot comprehend that. Knowing that many people died--knowing how many of them were innocent civilians, knowing how many of them were helpless children. And knowing that only one of them was one of the colonists.
The post-atomic horror courtrooms began long before the war was over. They were as awful as your historical documents show them, and worse. They were born and bred by people who lived every moment in fear of their lives--and it always seemed that the most corrupt people would preside. There was no jury; you could hardly call it a trial! You were guilty until proven innocent, and you had to represent yourself. The audience certainly wasn't much help; they were as bad as the spectators at the Roman gladiator games--bloodthirsty and looking for entertainment. Naturally, most people steered clear if they could help it.
It was hellish to begin with, and it got more hellish as the years dragged on. In the previous world wars, there was always someplace in the world you could be away from it at. Somewhere where you knew of the war, but weren't faced with it in your own backyard every day. There wasn't any place like that then. The war was everywhere. The destruction was beyond catastrophic.
Humanity needed a savior, and desperately. There was no way we would ever have survived to the end of that war without one--save turning ourselves over to the colonists. We'd rather have died first than do that. As with all alliances, the ECON--as the colonist force had come to be known--had a leader. And the weaker colonists, the rebel colonists, had all fled by this time. The colonists we were dealing with at that point were so devoted to their blessed order and way of doing things that bringing down the leader would bring them all down. Unfortunately, there was no way any average human could do that.
Fortunately, Vera Hope Mulder was no average human.
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Not only would taking the colonist's leader down be difficult, so would *finding* him. He was, of course, well-protected. Plus, there was only one way to kill them. A direct hit to the base of the neck--preferably with a little stiletto-like weapon. Understandably, those were somewhat hard to come by.
Years ago, though, Mulder had come across one--kept hidden in a lamp at his family's summer house in Rhode Island. He'd left me almost everything after his death, and I'd always kept that--admittedly more for sentimental value than practicality. *He'd* thought it was important. My sentimentality paid off.
It was one of the few things I'd been able to keep with me that reminded me of him...it was small enough to be easily hidden--which was a good thing, because there was no way the colonists would want me to have it, given the knowledge of them I had.
I think once Vera saw it, she knew her destiny. I might sound a little over-dramatic, but there was really only one person who could have accomplished the task--and effectively saved humanity. It was Vera. I'm still amazed by that, but Vera never ceased to amaze me. She also had immunity to the retrovirus that was in the aliens' blood...which made her the only logical candidate for the job. The only way to kill the colonists was the wound to the base of the neck, but if you hurt them, they would bleed. And kill you in the process. That virus gave human blood the approximate consistency of tapioca pudding. I did an autopsy on a victim once; I can testify to that. And I had to snatch Mulder back from death's door once, when he had been infected with it.
The only thing was, the human body couldn't develop an immunity to the retrovirus. I'd never been exposed to it...and even after his exposure, Mulder still had no immunity. So Vera couldn't have inherited it
from either one of us. She'd had to have been *given* the immunity at some point. That was when I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that my miracle baby had been given to me for a purpose.
The purpose being that she would truly become "Destiny's Child". She would save humankind from the alien threat. Naturally, I was more than a little shocked by this--and scared. I had only recently accepted the existence of these alien beings; now my daughter had to save us from them. And I knew full well that even with her viral immunity, it was a mission from which she might not return.
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You know that song I mentioned earlier, "Save Yourself"? I was thinking of more of it. "I am not your savior; I am just as fucked as you." That may have applied to me...but it certainly didn't to Vera. That was her destiny. She had been given to me for a purpose--to rescue us, deliver us from those dark days of post-colonization. I only hoped that she hadn't been born to die.
While the original details of the plan escape me at the moment, Vera found a way to infiltrate the colonist's "camp", pretending to be a sympathizer. They hadn't been warned about her beforehand--no, Vera was something of a secret weapon. Mulder had been intended to be the original person for the job so to speak...but after colonization was delayed, apparently our chain-smoking "friend" thought he needed a child to carry the legacy on.
It was probably the only decent thing the SOB ever did in his life.
Vera found the leader, who was living as a human (of course, what else would he have lived as back then?) in what was left of Washington, D.C. My home. Our nation's capitol, all but destroyed. Funny that the leader of the "Eastern Coalition" would pick D.C., huh?
Using the Mulder charm that came naturally to her, and a few forged documents, Vera was able to gain access to him. And that was all she wrote, pretty much. Vera put the stiletto in the base of his neck--killed him instantly.
Her escape was actually quite easy. After their leader's demise, the aliens were in a state of utter disarray. It seemed amazing that such an advanced society could fall apart so quickly and easily...but then, the Borg did the same thing, years later. Maybe it just goes to show that all the strength of a nation shouldn't be put upon one person, or something philosophical like that. I don't know. I stopped caring a long time back.
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Beverly leaned forward, wide-eyed, like a child being told a bedtime story. "So you're saying that the woman who brought ECON down--Therese MacNamera--was actually your daughter Vera?"
Scully grinned, maternal pride present even after all these years. A sly look crept into her powder-blue eyes. "What, you think she would have done what she did without an assumed name?" She laughed softly. "Therese MacNamera was an alias of hers--she usually used it when we were traveling. Besides, she didn't want the fame afterwards--or the traceability."
"That's understandable," Beverly agreed. "So the war ended in 2062. She would've, been...what, sixty?"
"Sixty-one," Scully answered, "but who's counting? She still only looked about mid-fortyish, and still had the attitude of a thirty year old. I was starting to wonder if maybe she'd picked up my immortality as well. That wasn't meant to be, though--she was just one of those women who looks forever young." She cast her glance downward momentarily.
Without giving it much forethought, Beverly reached out and took the woman's hand, knowing the next chapter of the story would be a difficult one as well.
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Vera died in 2076--surprisingly enough, of natural causes. But knowing that simple fact didn't make losing her any easier. She was my daughter. My *baby*, no matter how old she got.
Before, I had always regarded my immortality as an annoyance. I really would've liked to have missed World War III, thank you very much, but I dealt with it. But after Vera's death, I started hating the longevity that made me have to endure that. Despising it.
I also made it a point not to let myself get close to anyone again. I knew I'd lose them in the end, so pushing them away was the best way to protect my heart. Hmm...if the people back at the FBI had thought I was the Ice Princess, they should have seen me then. I was often very lonely as a result--but to me, being lonely was better than being heartbroken, by far.
The New Earth Alliance began in 2113, as you know, and that of course led to the founding of the Federation. Since disease wasn't a major issue anymore, I decided to take some time away from medicine for a couple of decades and try something else. I tried several different personas in a matter of 20 years. In case it sounds like I had a bit too much time on my hands, I *did*. Zephram Cochrane sure knew what he was talking about when he told James Kirk that immortality consists largely of boredom. And boredom for me has *never* been a good thing. The incident with Jen and the invisible body and the yellow powder comes to mind, for example.
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Scully grinned as Beverly burst out laughing.
"*What*?" Beverly asked as soon as she'd caught her breath.
Scully waved a hand dismissively. "Never mind...you *don't* want to know."
"I'll take your word on that." Beverly regained her composure and scooted over closer to Scully. "So anything else interesting happen in between then and now?"
"Not really," Scully replied. "I kept up the same act of switching identities...I went back to medicine after a while--but I think that's somewhat obvious. About 5 years ago, I decided to join Starfleet, and last week I was transferred to the best ship in the Fleet." She looked toward the chronometer (which was still a clock to her, no matter what anyone said). "And about 2 hours ago, I started telling a story I have never told another living soul. That about brings us up to this point."
"You haven't told me everything, though," Beverly said gently. She knew that Scully probably didn't want to talk about this, but it would be better for her in the long run. And for Dana Scully, that would be a very, very long time--no matter what she decided to call herself.
"What'd I leave out?"
"Mulder," Beverly continued softly. "You never told me what happened to him. Everyone else I know about, but..." She let her sentence trail.
Scully's eyes filled with tears again--she'd been fighting them the entire time she'd told her tale. This time, though, she lost the battle, and allowed them to spill over. "Oh, Beverly...that's just it. It was so unnecessary...it was my fault. He died because of *me*. He didn't have to...he shouldn't have."
Beverly Crusher moved over and wrapped her arms around the other woman. Scully probably hadn't cried like this in more years than she'd have cared to remember. And it was good for her now. It helped her deal with her emotions.
Scully sobbed silently for several minutes, finally giving in to the memories of years of grief and pain that had resurfaced--all the losses she'd had to endure through the years. As well as the loss of her one true love. After a moment, she collected herself, dried her eyes...and it were as if nothing had ever happened. She took a deep breath, moving a few inches away from Beverly to be able to look at her.
"Maybe you're right," she whispered, so softly that Beverly could barely hear her. "Maybe it's time I finally let it go." Her face betrayed the tiniest hint of apprehension, though. Beverly took her hand reassuringly.
"Not *him*," Beverly soothed. "You're not letting go of Mulder. Just the guilt. You were able to do it for Skinner...now it's time to do it for Mulder. He wouldn't have wanted you to beat yourself up over his death; I'm sure of it."
Scully managed half a smile, obviously trying to look brave. "You're right." She sighed deeply, and finally began to release the painful secret that had haunted her for the better part of 400 years.
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It was September 16, 2004. That's one of those dates I'll never forget, no matter how much time goes by. Mulder and I were out on a case in Virginia, somewhere near Fairfax. We'd been lured into an old abandoned warehouse by our suspect. Mulder was uneasy...and for all my talk against premonitions, I was a little antsy myself. I distinctly remember the conversation Mulder and I had on our way in.
"Hey, Scully," he teased, "this looks like it would've been an ideal makeout spot at one time. Want to test the theory?"
"No, thank you, Mulder," I answered dryly.
Two rabbits scurried away from us as we got closer. It didn't take much thought to figure out what they'd most likely been up to. Mulder turned around and gave me that playful grin of his--the one that was designed to be evil.
"'Baby, we ain't nothin' but mammals'," he whispered, quoting a song that had been popular about five or six years back--though, for the life of me, I'll never know why. Of course, Mulder had taken great delight in it...but that was the way he was. That was the way I loved him.
"Let's leave the Discovery Channel out of this, Mulder," I chided, matching his playful tone. I couldn't wait for his witty comeback. Mulder was great at those little games--and once he got started, he didn't stop until *he* wanted to.
If I had known that would be the last real conversation we'd have with each other, I'd have said a lot more.
I never heard that comeback of his, because seconds later, shots rang out. Mulder knocked me to the ground, covering me with his body.
Once the shooting stopped, I crawled out from under him, and my breath caught in my throat.
He'd been hit. Several times.
I snapped into action immediately, allowing my medical training to take over. I applied pressure to the wounds as best I could, but there were four of them. He was loosing too much blood too fast.
I don't consciously recall calling the ambulance, but I must have, because they arrived moments later.
Moments too late.
He died, right there in my arms that night. The only place I'd ever wanted him to be, but I was too much of a fool to realize it at the time. And do you know what his last words to me were? As he lay there in my arms, with his blood--his life--pouring out of his body and slipping away? He asked me to marry him again. With blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, struggling to breathe--he asked me to marry him. Again.
I should have never turned him down the first time.
I didn't turn him down that time, either, but I might as well have. I told him to wait until he got better, then I'd give him his answer. It was a trick to try to get him to live, to make it so I could tell him I would marry him and we could try to live happily ever after in a Cape Cod house with white picket fences. We never would have, but we sure as hell could have tried.
He gave his life for me. And he didn't have to. I was immortal by then! I had Fellig's damn curse, and Mulder still *died* *for**me*! We'd always joked that it was auto-erotic asphyxiation that would kill him (long story), but--in the end--he took bullets for me that he should have never had reason to be in the way of.
I didn't know it then, but I should have suspected something. After all, I was a scientist. I should have at least looked into Fellig's words. But I didn't. And Mulder died protecting me from a fate I would never see.
Life really sucks sometimes, you know.
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I really withdrew after Mulder died. I know I had a lot of people worried--including myself--but I didn't really care. The man I loved was forever gone--and I had never told him how I felt. I had never had the courage to face my true feelings for him.
One night, about a week after the funeral, I was at home alone. I shouldn't have been alone. I actually hadn't been alone since Mulder's death.
I saw a picture on top of my entertainment center--the one that sat right next to my only picture of Emily. I hadn't put the picture of Vera there yet...maybe if I had, I wouldn't have done what I did. Maybe I'd have thought before acting.
But the picture that caught my eye was of Mulder and me. It had been taken at a family picnic of mine I'd dragged him to. We were both happy, laughing...not a care in the world, if only for that one moment in time. And sometimes all you can ask for is one moment in time.
I walked across the room, to the drawer where I kept my service revolver. I unlocked the drawer, took the gun out of the drawer, and tossed the key aside.
I don't know just how long I stood there, staring at the weapon...feeling the cool metal in my hand. Then I put the gun to my head--and pulled the trigger. I just wanted it all to be over.
I woke up in a hospital the next morning. Apparently a neighbor had heard the gunshot and called the police.
Right then, I should have known something was wrong. Everyone assumed there had been some sort of accident...the gun had actually fallen a few feet away from me. Probably hit the ground and skidded. If they wanted to believe it was an accident, I let them believe it was an accident. I cared for them too much to tell them the truth, strange as that might sound. I think Skinner knew, though--but bless him, he never said anything.
That should have been the day I'd realized my immortality. But the thought actually never crossed my mind for more than a second. I figured that the angle of the gun had been wrong, that the bullet had just grazed my face or something. I think everyone else figured that since it was an "accident", I was lucky to get away with as little damage as I had.
"Lucky" isn't exactly the word I'd have used, but...they had *no* idea.
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After Scully had finally gotten that off her chest, the two women continued to talk well into the night.
After a while, Beverly looked at Scully seriously, as though sizing her up. "When was it you were the happiest?"
Scully was caught off-guard by her question. "What do you mean?"
"You and Mulder," Beverly clarified. "When were you happiest?"
Scully thought about it. "Oh...wow, I'd never really considered this in-depth before...I guess I'd have to say about late May of '97. 1997, that is. I'd just gotten the cure for my cancer...it was before that little fight we had...and we had an interesting bonding experience in the woods."
Beverly's eyebrow raised at that.
"Oh, get your mind out of the gutter," Scully teased. "It wasn't anything like that. We just talked...and I sang to him, but that's another story."
"What song?"
"Oh...I doubt you'd know it. 'Joy to the World'--not the Christmas carol. It was a song about a bullfrog. At least partially. Really off-the-wall." The former FBI agent noticed the barely concealed amusement in the CMO's glance. "Well, it was the first thing that popped into my head!" A pause followed. "Beverly? Um...Beverly? Say something, you're starting to worry me. What's with that look on your face? What are you up to?" Still no response, only the cryptic grin Beverly had assumed. "Bev? Oh, God...why am I getting so nervous?"
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***Two days later***
Beverly Cheryl Crusher would have done anything for a friend...but she was starting to wonder about the limits of that as she smoothed out the skirt of the business suit she had put on. She waited outside Holodeck 4 for Scully to arrive.
In private, Beverly now called Scully "Dana"...it was still "Dr. Mulder" with others around. After all, there was no need to confuse people.
Scully came down the hall moments later, looking as comfortable in the outfit as Beverly was *un*comfortable in it. Of course, Beverly had gotten rather used to the comfort and ease of Starfleet uniforms.
Scully grinned at her friend. "So what's this all about? You have me meet you outside the holodeck in my 'old uniform'. Tell me you didn't do what I think you did."
"Maybe," Beverly told her, "maybe not." She spoke to the computer. "Computer, begin program."
The doors stepped open, and the two of them stepped right into...the X-Files office.
Scully stared at their surroundings, then at Beverly. "This is...it's amazing. It's perfect. How did you ever...?"
"Historical records." Beverly tossed her hair over one shoulder. "I just had Data snatch a few files for me and we fed them into the computer. Nothing to it."
Scully's smile widened. "Beverly, this is...incredible. Thank you."
"Anything for a friend," Beverly replied, straightening her jacket. This outfit took a lot of work.
Scully leaned across the cluttered desk to look at the calendar. "May...1997. So that's why you wanted to know."
"We all need a break every now and then," Beverly said. "And you've certainly been through enough. I figured you might enjoy having your 'glory days' back for a few hours."
"I do." Scully hugged her with one arm. "With the exception of Vera, this is the best present anyone has ever given me. Thank you."
"You're entirely welcome." Beverly paused a moment. "I'm not sure if you want to take advantage of it, but this program has...well, another feature..."
"You programmed it to include Mulder?" Scully guessed.
"And anyone else you may want. I'll play into this however you want."
Scully flashed her another smile of gratitude, and closed her eyes for a second, as though she were fighting an inward battle. But she made her decision, and spoke a few words to the computer. In a matter of seconds, Fox Mulder (or, rather, the holographic image of him) was standing in the center of the office, behind the desk. He came to "life" immediately, and it was all Scully to do to keep from throwing herself into his arms and declaring 400 years' worth of unspoken love. But she let him make the first move.
Mulder grinned, that little-boy grin of his...and Beverly could instantly see what had drawn Scully to him. Who couldn't resist charm like that.
"Hey, Scully...who's your friend?"
"Her name's Beverly," Scully explained to him. "she's going to be...helping us with a few cases."
"Okay." Mulder shrugged, and picked up one of the many case files littering the surrounding area. He's accepted it easily enough...he was a holodeck re-creation, after all. But that didn't mean he wouldn't give Scully a hard time. "We are going to Montana tomorrow morning, so you ladies had better pack your bags. UFO reports, livestock and forest mutilations...the good stuff." He leveled his gaze to Scully. "So what's your theory of the week? Men in costumes with satanic cults? Psychos who watch too many sci-fi movies?"
"No," Scully answered slowly, strolling around to join him, "I don't think so. In fact, you're right, Mulder. There were UFO's, and aliens did the damage." She said it serious, without even a trace of irony.
A surprised look crossed Mulder's face, replaced by a suspicious one nanoseconds later. "You're serious?"
Now it was Scully's turn to do the evil look. "In your *dreams*."
The look on her face said she knew something about that line he didn't. She probably did.
As Mulder mocked being hurt by her "betrayal", Beverly stepped back to watch them go at it.
She was going to enjoy this.
And though Dana Scully didn't want to live forever, she might have just found a way to make having to do so more bearable.
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The End
Begun: 7/1/00
Finished: 7/20/00
Vera and I talked about trivial things for awhile after I regained consciousness. But I knew that there was something she was holding back, something she didn't want to have to tell me.
"Vera, what's wrong?" I asked.
She smiled as best she could, given the inner turmoil she had to be experiencing. "What are you talking about?"
"Come on, Vera. You can't hide this from me for long. I'm going to find out sooner or later, honey, and I'd rather it be sooner. I know there's something more."
She looked down and away, her green eyes feeling with tears. "Mom...maybe this should wait until you're feeling a little better."
"Vera, I feel fine!" I hadn't meant to snap at her, but I really needed to know what had happened.
She told me then. There had only been 7 survivors of that particular alien holocaust. She and I had lived...along with Langly, who was in bad shape, but alive. Byers and Frohike had been killed along with the others.
I couldn't believe it. I had needed them in my life for so long as my confidants, my own personal support system. And they were gone. I started crying, and I don't think I stopped for nearly six hours. I knew that Vera was wishing she'd waited to break the news to me, but I was glad I knew. If I'd held false hopes that they were alive beforehand, and then been told the truth, I don't know what I would have done.
It took me a long time before I was able to go on with my life again. I may have experienced a lot of personal losses before, but that didn't make dealing with them any easier. Langly was a wreck as well--he'd been even closer to them than I had. Vera did what she could for us, but she was only faring slightly better than we were in dealing with it.
After we'd gotten past the initial period of grief, we started trying to sort out what had happened that night. This was when I'd started denying that there had been aliens there that night. Langly and Vera couldn't believe it...but sad to say, that was so typical of me back then. Throw out everything I'd seen, chalk it up to stress...just because it conflicted with what I wanted to believe. I was supposed to be an objective scientist--but sometimes I wasn't very objective at all. It amazes me now--knowing what I know, seeing what I've seen--that I could have ever been so blind.
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Things got better, for a while. I told Vera and Langly about my immortality as I knew it...they were shocked, to say the least. Shocked that I would live forever, shocked that I believed it. They dealt with it remarkably well, though. I mean, I didn't really expect that. You find out someone you're close to is going to live forever--knowing full well that you won't--ideally, you think that would be a good thing. You won't have to worry about losing them. But you would also feel separated from them...they're not on the same level as you anymore. Langly and Vera never saw the negative side of the equation--or if they did, they never let it show. And I blessed them for that.
I never told anyone else but them--this was information that my family didn't really need, with the exception of Vera. And other than Langly, I didn't have anyone left but my family.
I had no idea just how vital Vera was to the equation back then. She was my daughter; she meant the world to me, of course. But I didn't know--I could never have known--just how much she meant to the world.
XXXXXXXX
March 28, 2053, came all too soon.
I'd undergone a few changes by then, of course. People were certainly going to question why an 88-year-old woman didn't look any more than 45. So Dana Scully had died on April 2, 2052, and Laura Foxx had appeared.
By the time the war started, Vera had just turned 52. But she denied her age very well--as did most of the women in my family, and I'm not counting myself. She was also one of those people who acted and felt a lot younger than she really was. She looked about 40, and acted about 25. So it was a good combination for her--especially considering what was to come.
World War III was a nuclear war, but we didn't start it out that way. No one intended for that to happen, it just sort of...did. Here's the main thing, though. The one thing you would never have suspected, even in your wildest dreams. The ECON? Eastern Coalition? Our main adversaries in that war? They were colonists.
Not colonists like in the 1700's, colonists as in alien colonists. The people the Bounty Hunter and his kind were after for a sort of nonconformity to the "rules" as they saw them. They were aliens.
First contact was officially in 2063, when the Vulcans landed in that Montana clearing. But it happened much before that, with only a select few ever knowing. A corrupt few, I might add. Their intentions, I suppose, were good enough--to prevent the aliens from colonizing, taking over, and turning humanity into a slave race--but their methods were pure evil. These people sacrificed family members to the Project, never giving it a second thought. They murdered hundreds of people...and that's not even half of it. And, in the end, their efforts failed. The date for colonization to begin was set--even though it had apparently been delayed--and nothing could discourage the colonists from thinking that the human race had forfeited their planet. Left it open for another species to inhabit.
They certainly weren't subtle. Before it turned to nuclear weapons, it was a biological war. They released an alien virus that would make humans host to their young. It had been loose for years, anyway, but never near any areas of large population. Never intentionally. I'd actually survived the virus previously, due to a weak vaccine the Syndicate had developed and given to Mulder. I'm not sure if Vera was given immunity to the virus during the events that were necessary for her conception, or if she'd somehow inherited it from me...but she was immune as well. I was eternally grateful for that--Vera was the only person I had left in the world by that point. Everyone else had died, whether it had been from natural causes or not. Well, except for a my niece and a couple of my nephews...but they perished in the early days of the war.
Those of us who managed to survive lived in camps set up on our own, with the few possessions we had left. You saw in Montana what it was like. We became nomadic and tough as nails. We'd move when we had to, do whatever we could. Rule Number One was simple: Do whatever you have to do to stay alive.
The nuclear weapons came later, after the colonists had all the "hosts" and slaves they needed. I guess their theory was "take what you need, annihilate the rest". That made things a lot tougher. We couldn't hang around on the outskirts of cities anymore; the blast radius was too wide. We had to retreat to the middle of nowhere--backwoods, out of the way areas. From there, we had no clue what was going on...and we never knew if that was a good thing or not. And, of course, our armies fought back--causing more destruction.
As they took the cities, the colonists invaded them and took up residence. But since they were able to take human form, no one would have ever known that they were not of that world. Vera and I knew immediately, once we got reports of the alien virus. I didn't want to believe--and I still don't think I ever accepted extraterrestrial existence until the official first contact--but a tiny part of me knew that colonization had come.
It was hell. If you thought the post-atomic horror was bad, just think about the atomic horror. Countries were uniting against the threat--some united with the colonists out of fear. Some were forced to. The Rebels stayed away--we actually could have used their help. But for whatever reason, they decided to keep out of it.
300 million people died in that war, Beverly. 300 *million*. To this day, I cannot comprehend that. Knowing that many people died--knowing how many of them were innocent civilians, knowing how many of them were helpless children. And knowing that only one of them was one of the colonists.
The post-atomic horror courtrooms began long before the war was over. They were as awful as your historical documents show them, and worse. They were born and bred by people who lived every moment in fear of their lives--and it always seemed that the most corrupt people would preside. There was no jury; you could hardly call it a trial! You were guilty until proven innocent, and you had to represent yourself. The audience certainly wasn't much help; they were as bad as the spectators at the Roman gladiator games--bloodthirsty and looking for entertainment. Naturally, most people steered clear if they could help it.
It was hellish to begin with, and it got more hellish as the years dragged on. In the previous world wars, there was always someplace in the world you could be away from it at. Somewhere where you knew of the war, but weren't faced with it in your own backyard every day. There wasn't any place like that then. The war was everywhere. The destruction was beyond catastrophic.
Humanity needed a savior, and desperately. There was no way we would ever have survived to the end of that war without one--save turning ourselves over to the colonists. We'd rather have died first than do that. As with all alliances, the ECON--as the colonist force had come to be known--had a leader. And the weaker colonists, the rebel colonists, had all fled by this time. The colonists we were dealing with at that point were so devoted to their blessed order and way of doing things that bringing down the leader would bring them all down. Unfortunately, there was no way any average human could do that.
Fortunately, Vera Hope Mulder was no average human.
XXXXXXXX
Not only would taking the colonist's leader down be difficult, so would *finding* him. He was, of course, well-protected. Plus, there was only one way to kill them. A direct hit to the base of the neck--preferably with a little stiletto-like weapon. Understandably, those were somewhat hard to come by.
Years ago, though, Mulder had come across one--kept hidden in a lamp at his family's summer house in Rhode Island. He'd left me almost everything after his death, and I'd always kept that--admittedly more for sentimental value than practicality. *He'd* thought it was important. My sentimentality paid off.
It was one of the few things I'd been able to keep with me that reminded me of him...it was small enough to be easily hidden--which was a good thing, because there was no way the colonists would want me to have it, given the knowledge of them I had.
I think once Vera saw it, she knew her destiny. I might sound a little over-dramatic, but there was really only one person who could have accomplished the task--and effectively saved humanity. It was Vera. I'm still amazed by that, but Vera never ceased to amaze me. She also had immunity to the retrovirus that was in the aliens' blood...which made her the only logical candidate for the job. The only way to kill the colonists was the wound to the base of the neck, but if you hurt them, they would bleed. And kill you in the process. That virus gave human blood the approximate consistency of tapioca pudding. I did an autopsy on a victim once; I can testify to that. And I had to snatch Mulder back from death's door once, when he had been infected with it.
The only thing was, the human body couldn't develop an immunity to the retrovirus. I'd never been exposed to it...and even after his exposure, Mulder still had no immunity. So Vera couldn't have inherited it
from either one of us. She'd had to have been *given* the immunity at some point. That was when I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that my miracle baby had been given to me for a purpose.
The purpose being that she would truly become "Destiny's Child". She would save humankind from the alien threat. Naturally, I was more than a little shocked by this--and scared. I had only recently accepted the existence of these alien beings; now my daughter had to save us from them. And I knew full well that even with her viral immunity, it was a mission from which she might not return.
XXXXXXXX
You know that song I mentioned earlier, "Save Yourself"? I was thinking of more of it. "I am not your savior; I am just as fucked as you." That may have applied to me...but it certainly didn't to Vera. That was her destiny. She had been given to me for a purpose--to rescue us, deliver us from those dark days of post-colonization. I only hoped that she hadn't been born to die.
While the original details of the plan escape me at the moment, Vera found a way to infiltrate the colonist's "camp", pretending to be a sympathizer. They hadn't been warned about her beforehand--no, Vera was something of a secret weapon. Mulder had been intended to be the original person for the job so to speak...but after colonization was delayed, apparently our chain-smoking "friend" thought he needed a child to carry the legacy on.
It was probably the only decent thing the SOB ever did in his life.
Vera found the leader, who was living as a human (of course, what else would he have lived as back then?) in what was left of Washington, D.C. My home. Our nation's capitol, all but destroyed. Funny that the leader of the "Eastern Coalition" would pick D.C., huh?
Using the Mulder charm that came naturally to her, and a few forged documents, Vera was able to gain access to him. And that was all she wrote, pretty much. Vera put the stiletto in the base of his neck--killed him instantly.
Her escape was actually quite easy. After their leader's demise, the aliens were in a state of utter disarray. It seemed amazing that such an advanced society could fall apart so quickly and easily...but then, the Borg did the same thing, years later. Maybe it just goes to show that all the strength of a nation shouldn't be put upon one person, or something philosophical like that. I don't know. I stopped caring a long time back.
XXXXXXXX
Beverly leaned forward, wide-eyed, like a child being told a bedtime story. "So you're saying that the woman who brought ECON down--Therese MacNamera--was actually your daughter Vera?"
Scully grinned, maternal pride present even after all these years. A sly look crept into her powder-blue eyes. "What, you think she would have done what she did without an assumed name?" She laughed softly. "Therese MacNamera was an alias of hers--she usually used it when we were traveling. Besides, she didn't want the fame afterwards--or the traceability."
"That's understandable," Beverly agreed. "So the war ended in 2062. She would've, been...what, sixty?"
"Sixty-one," Scully answered, "but who's counting? She still only looked about mid-fortyish, and still had the attitude of a thirty year old. I was starting to wonder if maybe she'd picked up my immortality as well. That wasn't meant to be, though--she was just one of those women who looks forever young." She cast her glance downward momentarily.
Without giving it much forethought, Beverly reached out and took the woman's hand, knowing the next chapter of the story would be a difficult one as well.
XXXXXXXX
Vera died in 2076--surprisingly enough, of natural causes. But knowing that simple fact didn't make losing her any easier. She was my daughter. My *baby*, no matter how old she got.
Before, I had always regarded my immortality as an annoyance. I really would've liked to have missed World War III, thank you very much, but I dealt with it. But after Vera's death, I started hating the longevity that made me have to endure that. Despising it.
I also made it a point not to let myself get close to anyone again. I knew I'd lose them in the end, so pushing them away was the best way to protect my heart. Hmm...if the people back at the FBI had thought I was the Ice Princess, they should have seen me then. I was often very lonely as a result--but to me, being lonely was better than being heartbroken, by far.
The New Earth Alliance began in 2113, as you know, and that of course led to the founding of the Federation. Since disease wasn't a major issue anymore, I decided to take some time away from medicine for a couple of decades and try something else. I tried several different personas in a matter of 20 years. In case it sounds like I had a bit too much time on my hands, I *did*. Zephram Cochrane sure knew what he was talking about when he told James Kirk that immortality consists largely of boredom. And boredom for me has *never* been a good thing. The incident with Jen and the invisible body and the yellow powder comes to mind, for example.
XXXXXXXX
Scully grinned as Beverly burst out laughing.
"*What*?" Beverly asked as soon as she'd caught her breath.
Scully waved a hand dismissively. "Never mind...you *don't* want to know."
"I'll take your word on that." Beverly regained her composure and scooted over closer to Scully. "So anything else interesting happen in between then and now?"
"Not really," Scully replied. "I kept up the same act of switching identities...I went back to medicine after a while--but I think that's somewhat obvious. About 5 years ago, I decided to join Starfleet, and last week I was transferred to the best ship in the Fleet." She looked toward the chronometer (which was still a clock to her, no matter what anyone said). "And about 2 hours ago, I started telling a story I have never told another living soul. That about brings us up to this point."
"You haven't told me everything, though," Beverly said gently. She knew that Scully probably didn't want to talk about this, but it would be better for her in the long run. And for Dana Scully, that would be a very, very long time--no matter what she decided to call herself.
"What'd I leave out?"
"Mulder," Beverly continued softly. "You never told me what happened to him. Everyone else I know about, but..." She let her sentence trail.
Scully's eyes filled with tears again--she'd been fighting them the entire time she'd told her tale. This time, though, she lost the battle, and allowed them to spill over. "Oh, Beverly...that's just it. It was so unnecessary...it was my fault. He died because of *me*. He didn't have to...he shouldn't have."
Beverly Crusher moved over and wrapped her arms around the other woman. Scully probably hadn't cried like this in more years than she'd have cared to remember. And it was good for her now. It helped her deal with her emotions.
Scully sobbed silently for several minutes, finally giving in to the memories of years of grief and pain that had resurfaced--all the losses she'd had to endure through the years. As well as the loss of her one true love. After a moment, she collected herself, dried her eyes...and it were as if nothing had ever happened. She took a deep breath, moving a few inches away from Beverly to be able to look at her.
"Maybe you're right," she whispered, so softly that Beverly could barely hear her. "Maybe it's time I finally let it go." Her face betrayed the tiniest hint of apprehension, though. Beverly took her hand reassuringly.
"Not *him*," Beverly soothed. "You're not letting go of Mulder. Just the guilt. You were able to do it for Skinner...now it's time to do it for Mulder. He wouldn't have wanted you to beat yourself up over his death; I'm sure of it."
Scully managed half a smile, obviously trying to look brave. "You're right." She sighed deeply, and finally began to release the painful secret that had haunted her for the better part of 400 years.
XXXXXXXX
It was September 16, 2004. That's one of those dates I'll never forget, no matter how much time goes by. Mulder and I were out on a case in Virginia, somewhere near Fairfax. We'd been lured into an old abandoned warehouse by our suspect. Mulder was uneasy...and for all my talk against premonitions, I was a little antsy myself. I distinctly remember the conversation Mulder and I had on our way in.
"Hey, Scully," he teased, "this looks like it would've been an ideal makeout spot at one time. Want to test the theory?"
"No, thank you, Mulder," I answered dryly.
Two rabbits scurried away from us as we got closer. It didn't take much thought to figure out what they'd most likely been up to. Mulder turned around and gave me that playful grin of his--the one that was designed to be evil.
"'Baby, we ain't nothin' but mammals'," he whispered, quoting a song that had been popular about five or six years back--though, for the life of me, I'll never know why. Of course, Mulder had taken great delight in it...but that was the way he was. That was the way I loved him.
"Let's leave the Discovery Channel out of this, Mulder," I chided, matching his playful tone. I couldn't wait for his witty comeback. Mulder was great at those little games--and once he got started, he didn't stop until *he* wanted to.
If I had known that would be the last real conversation we'd have with each other, I'd have said a lot more.
I never heard that comeback of his, because seconds later, shots rang out. Mulder knocked me to the ground, covering me with his body.
Once the shooting stopped, I crawled out from under him, and my breath caught in my throat.
He'd been hit. Several times.
I snapped into action immediately, allowing my medical training to take over. I applied pressure to the wounds as best I could, but there were four of them. He was loosing too much blood too fast.
I don't consciously recall calling the ambulance, but I must have, because they arrived moments later.
Moments too late.
He died, right there in my arms that night. The only place I'd ever wanted him to be, but I was too much of a fool to realize it at the time. And do you know what his last words to me were? As he lay there in my arms, with his blood--his life--pouring out of his body and slipping away? He asked me to marry him again. With blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, struggling to breathe--he asked me to marry him. Again.
I should have never turned him down the first time.
I didn't turn him down that time, either, but I might as well have. I told him to wait until he got better, then I'd give him his answer. It was a trick to try to get him to live, to make it so I could tell him I would marry him and we could try to live happily ever after in a Cape Cod house with white picket fences. We never would have, but we sure as hell could have tried.
He gave his life for me. And he didn't have to. I was immortal by then! I had Fellig's damn curse, and Mulder still *died* *for**me*! We'd always joked that it was auto-erotic asphyxiation that would kill him (long story), but--in the end--he took bullets for me that he should have never had reason to be in the way of.
I didn't know it then, but I should have suspected something. After all, I was a scientist. I should have at least looked into Fellig's words. But I didn't. And Mulder died protecting me from a fate I would never see.
Life really sucks sometimes, you know.
XXXXXXXX
I really withdrew after Mulder died. I know I had a lot of people worried--including myself--but I didn't really care. The man I loved was forever gone--and I had never told him how I felt. I had never had the courage to face my true feelings for him.
One night, about a week after the funeral, I was at home alone. I shouldn't have been alone. I actually hadn't been alone since Mulder's death.
I saw a picture on top of my entertainment center--the one that sat right next to my only picture of Emily. I hadn't put the picture of Vera there yet...maybe if I had, I wouldn't have done what I did. Maybe I'd have thought before acting.
But the picture that caught my eye was of Mulder and me. It had been taken at a family picnic of mine I'd dragged him to. We were both happy, laughing...not a care in the world, if only for that one moment in time. And sometimes all you can ask for is one moment in time.
I walked across the room, to the drawer where I kept my service revolver. I unlocked the drawer, took the gun out of the drawer, and tossed the key aside.
I don't know just how long I stood there, staring at the weapon...feeling the cool metal in my hand. Then I put the gun to my head--and pulled the trigger. I just wanted it all to be over.
I woke up in a hospital the next morning. Apparently a neighbor had heard the gunshot and called the police.
Right then, I should have known something was wrong. Everyone assumed there had been some sort of accident...the gun had actually fallen a few feet away from me. Probably hit the ground and skidded. If they wanted to believe it was an accident, I let them believe it was an accident. I cared for them too much to tell them the truth, strange as that might sound. I think Skinner knew, though--but bless him, he never said anything.
That should have been the day I'd realized my immortality. But the thought actually never crossed my mind for more than a second. I figured that the angle of the gun had been wrong, that the bullet had just grazed my face or something. I think everyone else figured that since it was an "accident", I was lucky to get away with as little damage as I had.
"Lucky" isn't exactly the word I'd have used, but...they had *no* idea.
XXXXXXXX
After Scully had finally gotten that off her chest, the two women continued to talk well into the night.
After a while, Beverly looked at Scully seriously, as though sizing her up. "When was it you were the happiest?"
Scully was caught off-guard by her question. "What do you mean?"
"You and Mulder," Beverly clarified. "When were you happiest?"
Scully thought about it. "Oh...wow, I'd never really considered this in-depth before...I guess I'd have to say about late May of '97. 1997, that is. I'd just gotten the cure for my cancer...it was before that little fight we had...and we had an interesting bonding experience in the woods."
Beverly's eyebrow raised at that.
"Oh, get your mind out of the gutter," Scully teased. "It wasn't anything like that. We just talked...and I sang to him, but that's another story."
"What song?"
"Oh...I doubt you'd know it. 'Joy to the World'--not the Christmas carol. It was a song about a bullfrog. At least partially. Really off-the-wall." The former FBI agent noticed the barely concealed amusement in the CMO's glance. "Well, it was the first thing that popped into my head!" A pause followed. "Beverly? Um...Beverly? Say something, you're starting to worry me. What's with that look on your face? What are you up to?" Still no response, only the cryptic grin Beverly had assumed. "Bev? Oh, God...why am I getting so nervous?"
XXXXXXXX
***Two days later***
Beverly Cheryl Crusher would have done anything for a friend...but she was starting to wonder about the limits of that as she smoothed out the skirt of the business suit she had put on. She waited outside Holodeck 4 for Scully to arrive.
In private, Beverly now called Scully "Dana"...it was still "Dr. Mulder" with others around. After all, there was no need to confuse people.
Scully came down the hall moments later, looking as comfortable in the outfit as Beverly was *un*comfortable in it. Of course, Beverly had gotten rather used to the comfort and ease of Starfleet uniforms.
Scully grinned at her friend. "So what's this all about? You have me meet you outside the holodeck in my 'old uniform'. Tell me you didn't do what I think you did."
"Maybe," Beverly told her, "maybe not." She spoke to the computer. "Computer, begin program."
The doors stepped open, and the two of them stepped right into...the X-Files office.
Scully stared at their surroundings, then at Beverly. "This is...it's amazing. It's perfect. How did you ever...?"
"Historical records." Beverly tossed her hair over one shoulder. "I just had Data snatch a few files for me and we fed them into the computer. Nothing to it."
Scully's smile widened. "Beverly, this is...incredible. Thank you."
"Anything for a friend," Beverly replied, straightening her jacket. This outfit took a lot of work.
Scully leaned across the cluttered desk to look at the calendar. "May...1997. So that's why you wanted to know."
"We all need a break every now and then," Beverly said. "And you've certainly been through enough. I figured you might enjoy having your 'glory days' back for a few hours."
"I do." Scully hugged her with one arm. "With the exception of Vera, this is the best present anyone has ever given me. Thank you."
"You're entirely welcome." Beverly paused a moment. "I'm not sure if you want to take advantage of it, but this program has...well, another feature..."
"You programmed it to include Mulder?" Scully guessed.
"And anyone else you may want. I'll play into this however you want."
Scully flashed her another smile of gratitude, and closed her eyes for a second, as though she were fighting an inward battle. But she made her decision, and spoke a few words to the computer. In a matter of seconds, Fox Mulder (or, rather, the holographic image of him) was standing in the center of the office, behind the desk. He came to "life" immediately, and it was all Scully to do to keep from throwing herself into his arms and declaring 400 years' worth of unspoken love. But she let him make the first move.
Mulder grinned, that little-boy grin of his...and Beverly could instantly see what had drawn Scully to him. Who couldn't resist charm like that.
"Hey, Scully...who's your friend?"
"Her name's Beverly," Scully explained to him. "she's going to be...helping us with a few cases."
"Okay." Mulder shrugged, and picked up one of the many case files littering the surrounding area. He's accepted it easily enough...he was a holodeck re-creation, after all. But that didn't mean he wouldn't give Scully a hard time. "We are going to Montana tomorrow morning, so you ladies had better pack your bags. UFO reports, livestock and forest mutilations...the good stuff." He leveled his gaze to Scully. "So what's your theory of the week? Men in costumes with satanic cults? Psychos who watch too many sci-fi movies?"
"No," Scully answered slowly, strolling around to join him, "I don't think so. In fact, you're right, Mulder. There were UFO's, and aliens did the damage." She said it serious, without even a trace of irony.
A surprised look crossed Mulder's face, replaced by a suspicious one nanoseconds later. "You're serious?"
Now it was Scully's turn to do the evil look. "In your *dreams*."
The look on her face said she knew something about that line he didn't. She probably did.
As Mulder mocked being hurt by her "betrayal", Beverly stepped back to watch them go at it.
She was going to enjoy this.
And though Dana Scully didn't want to live forever, she might have just found a way to make having to do so more bearable.
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The End
Begun: 7/1/00
Finished: 7/20/00