Resistance Headquarters
Control Room
10:47 pm
* * * * * *
At first his heart does not realize the full intensity of his misery...
But as he gradually recovered the use of his reason, he feels the
depth of his misfortune... he can feel nothing but the sharp claws
of despair tearing at his breast. But why speak of physical pain?
What pain felt by the body alone can be compared to this?
-- Jean Paul
* * * * * *
Mulder sat staring ahead at a monitor, not really seeing it, feeling as
brittle as spun glass, ready to shatter at the slightest touch. There
was something strangely comforting in the pain he felt. As if he'd spent
his whole life waiting for this moment, waiting for the worse that could
ever happen. Now that it was here, he felt a certain sense of relief.
This was it. The moment had arrived.
They'd lost.
Scully was lost.
And he couldn't do a damn thing about it. The plan had failed and aliens
were invading the world. It was like one of those overly dramatic plots
from a poorly written B movie. Boy meets girl, gets girl involved in
global conspiracy, boy and girl fall in love, girl is given up to
aliens. If only it could be a movie; then he, as the hero, would be able
to find a way to save her in the eleventh hour.
Instead, he just sat there.
Mulder felt a hand on his shoulder but he didn't look up. He didn't want
to see the sorrow in Allen's eyes.
"Mulder...we don't have any choice..."
"I know." Mulder answered flatly. On the monitor he watched as the dots
moved across the screen like insects over a dead animal.
"I never--" Allen paused, shaking his head slightly. When he spoke
again, his voice was softer and gentler than before. "I really thought
we had a chance..."
Mulder didn't respond. Instead, he leaned forward in the chair, placing
his elbows on his knees and hands to his face. He pressed the heels of
his hands into his eyes until he saw the flurry and sparkle of bright
white colors.
He was only partially successful at holding back his sob.
* * * * * *
Alien Ship
Scully was split in two. Literally.
Half of her was on the tabletop, alone in the white room.
Another half was walking in a hallway.
She could only think of one word to describe the situation.
Odd.
This was the fucking oddest thing she ever experienced.
Was she was with Samantha or was she *in* her? Seeing through her eyes?
Thinking with her thoughts? Hell, were those her arms or Samantha's
swinging at her side, brushing up against the fabric of the soft cloth?
"How was this happening? And why isn't this terrifying me?"
"Because we know all there is to know about the other, and you know
that I will not hurt you" came a sudden interjection from Samantha.
"We can communicate without touching? How can this be?" Scully was
surprised. Surprised that she could still be surprised.
"I made a stronger link between us. I can't do this without you."
"Do what?"
"I'm stopping them." Was her simple reply.
* * * * * *
Resistance Headquarters
Control Room
11:15 pm
"Sir, we-- something's happening." A voice called out, not in panic, nor
alarm, but in confusion.
"What do we have?" Allen asked curtly, nerves fraying from the stress,
from being pulled in all directions.
The operator looked up at Allen, uncertainly written across his face.
"I'm not sure sir. It seems, well...three of their ships have
disappeared." he said, but he sounded cautious, as if he didn't want to
tempt fate by being sure
"What do you mean, 'disappeared?'"
He nodded toward the monitor. "I mean, they aren't there any more."
"Explanation?" Allen looked away from the monitor and met the man's
eyes.
"It seems, from the readings we are getting, that they've been
destroyed."
"Destroyed?" Allen sounded surprised, but pleased. "But that's good,
that is what we want."
"Sir, they've been destroyed, but not by anything that we have done."
"What does this mean?"
The operator shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know."
Allen returned his attention to the screen. As he stood watching, two
more of the alien's ships blinked out. Then another. Without removing
his gaze, he spoke. "Find out what the hell is happening. Do it now."
* * * * * *
Alien Ship
Samantha's interaction with Scully had thankfully gone unnoticed.
Everyone's attention was diverted towards the invasion. She was able to
know what was happening by checking with the others. And she could do
this without worry; Scully had a firm control on not only her own
thoughts but on Samantha's as well. This let Samantha remain free and
virtually undetected amongst the others. If they couldn't 'feel' her,
she was practically invisible, and of no one's concern.
The Resistance was fighting back, but they were vastly outnumbered, and
she knew that they would be unsuccessful without her help. Samantha
checked in again on the mental network. The virus wasn't working fast
enough. Some on this ship were incapacitated with it, but it had not yet
spread to any of the other ships. They didn't have time to wait for it
to work.
Samantha had gone to a lower traffic area to access the main system, the
physical network that each ship was apart of. She knew how to do this
because of her many years with them. They'd come to accept her as one of
them, and thought that they had no reason to distrust her. Until a short
time ago, they were correct.
She'd been trained in every aspect of the ships and how they ran. She
also learned what it took to stop them. She began to remotely access the
key operating systems on another ship, taking steps to avoid notice.
Samantha worked quickly and methodically from one ship to the next,
making sure that each ship was accounted for. She didn't have much time
before someone noticed something was happening and traced it back to
this workstation.
* * * * * *
Resistance Headquarters
Control Room
11:29 pm
"We can't let this opportunity pass." Allen paused, and glanced at
Mulder huddled in his chair across the room. "But..." his voice
faltered.
"But what?" The operator looked up in confusion. "We have to stop
them..."
Allen closed his eyes. "Just do what we have to do," his voice a little
lower and rougher with emotion than it had been moments before. He
repeated the other man's words, knowing that this was likely their only
chance, "we have to stop them." Knowing too, that with these words, he
had also giving up on Scully.
* * * * * *
Alien Ship
Samantha was moving quickly from ship to ship, only taking a few seconds
with each, when she realized something. With each ship that she
successfully took out, the ship that she was on became a more likely
target for the Resistance. Without stopping her work, she thought a
moment, considering what to do. With the next ship she accessed, she
altered her plan slightly, allowing an extra few minutes before it too
would be destroyed.
She moved on, but discovered her workstation dead. They'd discovered her
actions, and were intervening to prevent further damage. She had only
accessed half of the ships so far. Samantha tentatively tapped into the
mental network. Yes, they had found out about her actions, and had
traced it back to this station, but they did not yet know it was she.
She abandoned the room, and began to make her way back to Scully. She
calmly walked passed strangers she once knew; they didn't even give her
a second glance.
She would try to gain access from another station, but first she needed
to get Scully out of there.
As she was walking down a corridor, the ship suddenly lurched to the
left, and she found herself slammed against the wall. A booming sound
resonated throughout the ship and Samantha could still feel the
vibrations through her fingertips.
When the shuddering of the ship had faded, and when she could move
again, Samantha began to run.
* * * * * *
Scully was trying her best not to panic. Perhaps it would be more
appropriate to say she was trying her best not to let Samantha and
herself panic. But she didn't feel like quibbling over the
technicalities; all she knew was that panic and fear were dangerously
close to the surface and it was all she could do to keep it from rising
to the top. She was bordering on exhaustion from the effort of
maintaining two minds, and two widely varying sets of emotions.
Then the ship shifted again.
She knew what was happening, she could tell this from her connection
with Samantha. She could also feel Samantha's barely maintained panic as
she rushed to her.
Samantha opened the door and quickly came into the room. "We have to go
now." She said in a sudden rush, the words blurring together at their
edges. She moved to Scully's side and quickly released her. In moments
they were outside and hurrying down a passageway.
She glanced over her shoulder, looking for Scully. "Take my hand," she
said, reaching for Scully, "we have to get out of here." Samantha tugged
urgently on her arm.
The ship shuddered again.
"Where are you taking me?"
"I have to get you out of here." She pulled Scully into a room and
closed the door behind them.
"What about you?"
"I'm not finished yet, but I need to get you out of here."
"Won't they notice I'm gone?"
"Not with everything else happening. It will take awhile before you're
missed." Responding to Scully's unspoken concern, Samantha added, "don't
worry about me."
"But if we're being attacked, then it's not safe for you to stay--"
Samantha cut in, interrupting. "But if I leave now, then they will win,
and I'll have to go back to how I was. I know what I'm doing."
"I need to stay. I'm helping you." Scully pointed out.
"And you'll continue to help me. But I can't risk both of us." She gave
Scully a quiet, closed-lipped smile and leaned in to kiss her cheek.
"I'll be following you shortly."
Scully opened her mouth to protest again, but Samantha didn't let her
finish. There was a flash of light, and Scully was gone.
* * * * * *
The shuddering of the ship had grown, and was increasing with each
minute that passed and with each ship Samantha took out of operation.
She was cutting it too close, she knew this, but she had to keep going.
She had to make sure of the Resistance's success before abandoning the
ship.
Only a few ships left, but she continued at her work. The ship trembled
again; protesting the unnatural stresses being placed on it. Samantha
did her best to maintain her balance, grabbing hold of the wall nearest
her. Then the station she was at, as well as the room she was in, lost
power. The decision now made for her, she began to leave.
* * * * * *
Resistance Headquarters
Outside, Main Yard
Scully was wet. Soaking wet.
She was outside in the rain, in the mud.
Yet she was not.
She could see the ship; it was as if she was still there. But it wasn't
the same. She was looking through eyes that were not her own.
Scully watched with a certain detachment as the world was closed in on
her. No--not her. Samantha. She was looking through Samantha's eyes.
Their connection remained.
Samantha was moving quickly down a corridor. Scully could feel the
urgency to get off the ship, and the worry that time may have run out.
And then the worry disappeared, faded into the stark light of reality.
She wasn't running out of time; time had already left.
The walls of the room buckled under the pressures exerted upon them. No
longer able to brace herself, Samantha was tossed about carelessly as
the ship shuddered and screeched. She could tell by the motion and the
sensation in her stomach that the ship was fatally wounded, and was
descending rapidly. It would only be a matter of seconds now.
"No! Please God, no. Not like this." Scully called into the wind, voice
shaking, made naked with fear. She didn't want to see. She didn't think
she could stand it.
The ship began to buckle only a few feet away from her. The vibrations
knocked Samantha off her feet and she fell heavily onto her back.
Shrapnel showered down on her, parts of the walls, parts of the ship,
and a jagged piece grazed her forehead. Wincing at the sensation,
Samantha brought a hand up to her forehead, now slick with wetness.
Bringing her hand back down, she stared uncomprehendingly at the red
smear across her palm. The motion of the ship seemed to settle for the
moment as she gazed at her fingers. She looked at her hand with all the
awe of an astronomer sighting a new star in the heavens.
"Blood. It's blood." And Samantha began to laugh. A laugh of joy.
Joy at what she'd become.
And over the explosions and the screeches and groans of ripping metal
she reached out to Scully, "Blood. It's my blood. Thank you, thank you
for all that you've given me. And tell him...tell him that I remember
him; I know him because of you...let him know me." Then the second
blow came and she was falling, spinning madly through a black sky and a
carousel ride of color. And then her world was consumed in a flash of
light, culminating into a crescendo of silence.
There was nothing.
Scully was so wet, so cold. But she didn't feel any of it.
The rain hit her from above, each drop an accusation. "You left her
behind. You left her behind and Mulder will never forgive you."
* * * * * *
March 8, 1999
Control Room
12:06 am
Mulder felt like he was only one heartbeat away from cardiac arrest.
Scully was gone. He'd seen the last ship blink out. One second it was
there; the next-- gone. He'd seen it blink off the screen and into
oblivion.
Gone. She was gone.
He'd been waiting for this moment. Waiting and dreading it. The lead
weight that had been hanging by a filament just above his head was
unraveling, and he didn't care. Let it crash on him.
He was already dead.
He had lived up until this moment, never fully accepting that Scully was
lost, believing that he would see her again, that he would hold her in
his arms once more. There was always a small glimmer of hope that the
vaccine would work, that the resistance would halt the attacks on the
ships, that she would come back.
The stunned silence that had blanketed the room was now being thrown
off. The others were beginning to celebrate the victory.
He didn't want to be around them -- them so happy at their success and
seemingly unconcerned with what had been lost -- he stayed anyway. He
wanted to feel the pain against this joyous backdrop. He wanted it to
take him over until he could feel no more.
Then, at that moment he heard her. It was a soft cry that seemed to come
from within him. "Oh god, Mulder. Forgive me, forgive me."
* * * * * *
Outside, Main Yard
It was as if she were just beyond Mulder's reach. He could almost touch
her, sense her right ahead of him. Mulder opened the door and
immediately the fierce wind assaulted him with rain. The drops pelted
his face like tiny shards of glass, but he didn't hesitate. Acting on an
instinct that he never realized that he had, Mulder lunged out the door
and into the storm outside. She was out here, he could feel it. He had
to find her.
He heard muffled cries carried on the wind, but he couldn't find the
direction they originated from. "Scully! Scully, please, answer me!"
Panic was setting in, coloring his words red with fear.
The only response was more crying. The sound swirled around him, making
him dizzy. And then he heard her, weakly, in his mind. "I left her
behind. Forgive me. Forgive me Mulder."
He turned in the direction he now inherently knew she was, and ran to
her. She lay on the rain-saturated ground, half curled into a fetal
position. He rushed to her, bending down to pull her to his chest. He
wrapped a hand around her wrist and felt the tiny flutter of her heart
beat, her blood pulsing under the skin. Alive. She was alive.
"It's ok Scully. It is all over. It's all over." He began, trying to
find words to reassure her, anything to make her suffering stop. "We won
Scully. The ships have been destroyed." But instead of easing her grief,
his words only seemed to exacerbate it. She began to tremble even more
in his arms.
Mulder moved to stand, intending on carrying her back inside, but she
prevented him. Even though she was exhausted by her ordeal, both
mentally and physically drained, she still had the strength to stop him
in his tracks. She clutched at his shirt, pulling him even closer to
her. "Please don't leave me. Please. I'm so sorry Mulder. So sorry. I
didn't mean to leave her behind. I didn't mean--" Her voice cracked as
emotion overwhelmed her. She removed her hands from his chest and placed
them over her face. Her shoulders began to shake even more.
He carefully cupped her cheek, doing his best to clean off the mud that
clung to her face. Gently guiding her head so that they had eye contact,
he spoke again. "Scully what is it? You can tell me. Whatever it is..."
She opened his mouth in an effort to respond, but the sob that she had
been holding back was the only thing that passed through her lips. She
shook her head and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Through her sobs, he
could barely make out the words, "I can't... I can't let you know... too
terrible..." Mulder pulled her more firmly into his embrace.
Mulder was silent for several moments. He let her spill her emotions
over him. The grief, the guilt, the anguish...
"Can you show me?" He asked hesitantly, not sure if it would work, not
sure if she would let him. "Please help me know."
His words, an echo of Samantha's, made her gasp. And then she remembered
her other words: "Let him know me."
He felt her nod against his shoulder. Other than that slight movement,
she gave no other indication that she'd heard him. He let himself open
to her.
-Flash-
He saw with a clarity that startled him. The connection between them was
growing, or perhaps their minds were becoming accustomed to the other.
Whatever it was, it provided with stark sharpness this new sorrow.
He saw a room, a white room. He was looking from her viewpoint. He saw
them, the aliens, looking down. Pain. So much pain. He felt it in his
chest. He wanted to pull away from it, but that would mean pulling away
from her, and could not let her face this alone.
-Flash-
Another face, looking down. Samantha. Oh my god, it was Samantha! Alive.
But Mulder began to feel a sense of dread overtake him as the image
continued. He knew that this was the source of Scully's anguish.
-Flash-
He saw his sister lean in and kiss his/Scully's cheek. "I'll be
following you shortly."
-Flash-
Collapsing, the world was collapsing in on him. He felt pain on his
forehead, but it was defused, filtered through two others.
-Flash-
Red hands. Hands red with blood. My god what does that mean?
-Flash-
"Tell him that I know him..."
-Flash-
Laughing...laughing...
-Flash-
The images were abruptly cut off. Cut off, not because the connection
had been broken, but because there were no more images to see. Mulder
knew. He knew, and he gasped with shock at the harshness of it.
Mulder pulled Scully impossibly close. His tears joined hers. Tears of
relief that he was holding her in his arms. Tears of sorrow for the
woman he would never get the chance to hold again.
And the rain fell.
* * * * * *
Control Room
10:47 pm
* * * * * *
At first his heart does not realize the full intensity of his misery...
But as he gradually recovered the use of his reason, he feels the
depth of his misfortune... he can feel nothing but the sharp claws
of despair tearing at his breast. But why speak of physical pain?
What pain felt by the body alone can be compared to this?
-- Jean Paul
* * * * * *
Mulder sat staring ahead at a monitor, not really seeing it, feeling as
brittle as spun glass, ready to shatter at the slightest touch. There
was something strangely comforting in the pain he felt. As if he'd spent
his whole life waiting for this moment, waiting for the worse that could
ever happen. Now that it was here, he felt a certain sense of relief.
This was it. The moment had arrived.
They'd lost.
Scully was lost.
And he couldn't do a damn thing about it. The plan had failed and aliens
were invading the world. It was like one of those overly dramatic plots
from a poorly written B movie. Boy meets girl, gets girl involved in
global conspiracy, boy and girl fall in love, girl is given up to
aliens. If only it could be a movie; then he, as the hero, would be able
to find a way to save her in the eleventh hour.
Instead, he just sat there.
Mulder felt a hand on his shoulder but he didn't look up. He didn't want
to see the sorrow in Allen's eyes.
"Mulder...we don't have any choice..."
"I know." Mulder answered flatly. On the monitor he watched as the dots
moved across the screen like insects over a dead animal.
"I never--" Allen paused, shaking his head slightly. When he spoke
again, his voice was softer and gentler than before. "I really thought
we had a chance..."
Mulder didn't respond. Instead, he leaned forward in the chair, placing
his elbows on his knees and hands to his face. He pressed the heels of
his hands into his eyes until he saw the flurry and sparkle of bright
white colors.
He was only partially successful at holding back his sob.
* * * * * *
Alien Ship
Scully was split in two. Literally.
Half of her was on the tabletop, alone in the white room.
Another half was walking in a hallway.
She could only think of one word to describe the situation.
Odd.
This was the fucking oddest thing she ever experienced.
Was she was with Samantha or was she *in* her? Seeing through her eyes?
Thinking with her thoughts? Hell, were those her arms or Samantha's
swinging at her side, brushing up against the fabric of the soft cloth?
"How was this happening? And why isn't this terrifying me?"
"Because we know all there is to know about the other, and you know
that I will not hurt you" came a sudden interjection from Samantha.
"We can communicate without touching? How can this be?" Scully was
surprised. Surprised that she could still be surprised.
"I made a stronger link between us. I can't do this without you."
"Do what?"
"I'm stopping them." Was her simple reply.
* * * * * *
Resistance Headquarters
Control Room
11:15 pm
"Sir, we-- something's happening." A voice called out, not in panic, nor
alarm, but in confusion.
"What do we have?" Allen asked curtly, nerves fraying from the stress,
from being pulled in all directions.
The operator looked up at Allen, uncertainly written across his face.
"I'm not sure sir. It seems, well...three of their ships have
disappeared." he said, but he sounded cautious, as if he didn't want to
tempt fate by being sure
"What do you mean, 'disappeared?'"
He nodded toward the monitor. "I mean, they aren't there any more."
"Explanation?" Allen looked away from the monitor and met the man's
eyes.
"It seems, from the readings we are getting, that they've been
destroyed."
"Destroyed?" Allen sounded surprised, but pleased. "But that's good,
that is what we want."
"Sir, they've been destroyed, but not by anything that we have done."
"What does this mean?"
The operator shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know."
Allen returned his attention to the screen. As he stood watching, two
more of the alien's ships blinked out. Then another. Without removing
his gaze, he spoke. "Find out what the hell is happening. Do it now."
* * * * * *
Alien Ship
Samantha's interaction with Scully had thankfully gone unnoticed.
Everyone's attention was diverted towards the invasion. She was able to
know what was happening by checking with the others. And she could do
this without worry; Scully had a firm control on not only her own
thoughts but on Samantha's as well. This let Samantha remain free and
virtually undetected amongst the others. If they couldn't 'feel' her,
she was practically invisible, and of no one's concern.
The Resistance was fighting back, but they were vastly outnumbered, and
she knew that they would be unsuccessful without her help. Samantha
checked in again on the mental network. The virus wasn't working fast
enough. Some on this ship were incapacitated with it, but it had not yet
spread to any of the other ships. They didn't have time to wait for it
to work.
Samantha had gone to a lower traffic area to access the main system, the
physical network that each ship was apart of. She knew how to do this
because of her many years with them. They'd come to accept her as one of
them, and thought that they had no reason to distrust her. Until a short
time ago, they were correct.
She'd been trained in every aspect of the ships and how they ran. She
also learned what it took to stop them. She began to remotely access the
key operating systems on another ship, taking steps to avoid notice.
Samantha worked quickly and methodically from one ship to the next,
making sure that each ship was accounted for. She didn't have much time
before someone noticed something was happening and traced it back to
this workstation.
* * * * * *
Resistance Headquarters
Control Room
11:29 pm
"We can't let this opportunity pass." Allen paused, and glanced at
Mulder huddled in his chair across the room. "But..." his voice
faltered.
"But what?" The operator looked up in confusion. "We have to stop
them..."
Allen closed his eyes. "Just do what we have to do," his voice a little
lower and rougher with emotion than it had been moments before. He
repeated the other man's words, knowing that this was likely their only
chance, "we have to stop them." Knowing too, that with these words, he
had also giving up on Scully.
* * * * * *
Alien Ship
Samantha was moving quickly from ship to ship, only taking a few seconds
with each, when she realized something. With each ship that she
successfully took out, the ship that she was on became a more likely
target for the Resistance. Without stopping her work, she thought a
moment, considering what to do. With the next ship she accessed, she
altered her plan slightly, allowing an extra few minutes before it too
would be destroyed.
She moved on, but discovered her workstation dead. They'd discovered her
actions, and were intervening to prevent further damage. She had only
accessed half of the ships so far. Samantha tentatively tapped into the
mental network. Yes, they had found out about her actions, and had
traced it back to this station, but they did not yet know it was she.
She abandoned the room, and began to make her way back to Scully. She
calmly walked passed strangers she once knew; they didn't even give her
a second glance.
She would try to gain access from another station, but first she needed
to get Scully out of there.
As she was walking down a corridor, the ship suddenly lurched to the
left, and she found herself slammed against the wall. A booming sound
resonated throughout the ship and Samantha could still feel the
vibrations through her fingertips.
When the shuddering of the ship had faded, and when she could move
again, Samantha began to run.
* * * * * *
Scully was trying her best not to panic. Perhaps it would be more
appropriate to say she was trying her best not to let Samantha and
herself panic. But she didn't feel like quibbling over the
technicalities; all she knew was that panic and fear were dangerously
close to the surface and it was all she could do to keep it from rising
to the top. She was bordering on exhaustion from the effort of
maintaining two minds, and two widely varying sets of emotions.
Then the ship shifted again.
She knew what was happening, she could tell this from her connection
with Samantha. She could also feel Samantha's barely maintained panic as
she rushed to her.
Samantha opened the door and quickly came into the room. "We have to go
now." She said in a sudden rush, the words blurring together at their
edges. She moved to Scully's side and quickly released her. In moments
they were outside and hurrying down a passageway.
She glanced over her shoulder, looking for Scully. "Take my hand," she
said, reaching for Scully, "we have to get out of here." Samantha tugged
urgently on her arm.
The ship shuddered again.
"Where are you taking me?"
"I have to get you out of here." She pulled Scully into a room and
closed the door behind them.
"What about you?"
"I'm not finished yet, but I need to get you out of here."
"Won't they notice I'm gone?"
"Not with everything else happening. It will take awhile before you're
missed." Responding to Scully's unspoken concern, Samantha added, "don't
worry about me."
"But if we're being attacked, then it's not safe for you to stay--"
Samantha cut in, interrupting. "But if I leave now, then they will win,
and I'll have to go back to how I was. I know what I'm doing."
"I need to stay. I'm helping you." Scully pointed out.
"And you'll continue to help me. But I can't risk both of us." She gave
Scully a quiet, closed-lipped smile and leaned in to kiss her cheek.
"I'll be following you shortly."
Scully opened her mouth to protest again, but Samantha didn't let her
finish. There was a flash of light, and Scully was gone.
* * * * * *
The shuddering of the ship had grown, and was increasing with each
minute that passed and with each ship Samantha took out of operation.
She was cutting it too close, she knew this, but she had to keep going.
She had to make sure of the Resistance's success before abandoning the
ship.
Only a few ships left, but she continued at her work. The ship trembled
again; protesting the unnatural stresses being placed on it. Samantha
did her best to maintain her balance, grabbing hold of the wall nearest
her. Then the station she was at, as well as the room she was in, lost
power. The decision now made for her, she began to leave.
* * * * * *
Resistance Headquarters
Outside, Main Yard
Scully was wet. Soaking wet.
She was outside in the rain, in the mud.
Yet she was not.
She could see the ship; it was as if she was still there. But it wasn't
the same. She was looking through eyes that were not her own.
Scully watched with a certain detachment as the world was closed in on
her. No--not her. Samantha. She was looking through Samantha's eyes.
Their connection remained.
Samantha was moving quickly down a corridor. Scully could feel the
urgency to get off the ship, and the worry that time may have run out.
And then the worry disappeared, faded into the stark light of reality.
She wasn't running out of time; time had already left.
The walls of the room buckled under the pressures exerted upon them. No
longer able to brace herself, Samantha was tossed about carelessly as
the ship shuddered and screeched. She could tell by the motion and the
sensation in her stomach that the ship was fatally wounded, and was
descending rapidly. It would only be a matter of seconds now.
"No! Please God, no. Not like this." Scully called into the wind, voice
shaking, made naked with fear. She didn't want to see. She didn't think
she could stand it.
The ship began to buckle only a few feet away from her. The vibrations
knocked Samantha off her feet and she fell heavily onto her back.
Shrapnel showered down on her, parts of the walls, parts of the ship,
and a jagged piece grazed her forehead. Wincing at the sensation,
Samantha brought a hand up to her forehead, now slick with wetness.
Bringing her hand back down, she stared uncomprehendingly at the red
smear across her palm. The motion of the ship seemed to settle for the
moment as she gazed at her fingers. She looked at her hand with all the
awe of an astronomer sighting a new star in the heavens.
"Blood. It's blood." And Samantha began to laugh. A laugh of joy.
Joy at what she'd become.
And over the explosions and the screeches and groans of ripping metal
she reached out to Scully, "Blood. It's my blood. Thank you, thank you
for all that you've given me. And tell him...tell him that I remember
him; I know him because of you...let him know me." Then the second
blow came and she was falling, spinning madly through a black sky and a
carousel ride of color. And then her world was consumed in a flash of
light, culminating into a crescendo of silence.
There was nothing.
Scully was so wet, so cold. But she didn't feel any of it.
The rain hit her from above, each drop an accusation. "You left her
behind. You left her behind and Mulder will never forgive you."
* * * * * *
March 8, 1999
Control Room
12:06 am
Mulder felt like he was only one heartbeat away from cardiac arrest.
Scully was gone. He'd seen the last ship blink out. One second it was
there; the next-- gone. He'd seen it blink off the screen and into
oblivion.
Gone. She was gone.
He'd been waiting for this moment. Waiting and dreading it. The lead
weight that had been hanging by a filament just above his head was
unraveling, and he didn't care. Let it crash on him.
He was already dead.
He had lived up until this moment, never fully accepting that Scully was
lost, believing that he would see her again, that he would hold her in
his arms once more. There was always a small glimmer of hope that the
vaccine would work, that the resistance would halt the attacks on the
ships, that she would come back.
The stunned silence that had blanketed the room was now being thrown
off. The others were beginning to celebrate the victory.
He didn't want to be around them -- them so happy at their success and
seemingly unconcerned with what had been lost -- he stayed anyway. He
wanted to feel the pain against this joyous backdrop. He wanted it to
take him over until he could feel no more.
Then, at that moment he heard her. It was a soft cry that seemed to come
from within him. "Oh god, Mulder. Forgive me, forgive me."
* * * * * *
Outside, Main Yard
It was as if she were just beyond Mulder's reach. He could almost touch
her, sense her right ahead of him. Mulder opened the door and
immediately the fierce wind assaulted him with rain. The drops pelted
his face like tiny shards of glass, but he didn't hesitate. Acting on an
instinct that he never realized that he had, Mulder lunged out the door
and into the storm outside. She was out here, he could feel it. He had
to find her.
He heard muffled cries carried on the wind, but he couldn't find the
direction they originated from. "Scully! Scully, please, answer me!"
Panic was setting in, coloring his words red with fear.
The only response was more crying. The sound swirled around him, making
him dizzy. And then he heard her, weakly, in his mind. "I left her
behind. Forgive me. Forgive me Mulder."
He turned in the direction he now inherently knew she was, and ran to
her. She lay on the rain-saturated ground, half curled into a fetal
position. He rushed to her, bending down to pull her to his chest. He
wrapped a hand around her wrist and felt the tiny flutter of her heart
beat, her blood pulsing under the skin. Alive. She was alive.
"It's ok Scully. It is all over. It's all over." He began, trying to
find words to reassure her, anything to make her suffering stop. "We won
Scully. The ships have been destroyed." But instead of easing her grief,
his words only seemed to exacerbate it. She began to tremble even more
in his arms.
Mulder moved to stand, intending on carrying her back inside, but she
prevented him. Even though she was exhausted by her ordeal, both
mentally and physically drained, she still had the strength to stop him
in his tracks. She clutched at his shirt, pulling him even closer to
her. "Please don't leave me. Please. I'm so sorry Mulder. So sorry. I
didn't mean to leave her behind. I didn't mean--" Her voice cracked as
emotion overwhelmed her. She removed her hands from his chest and placed
them over her face. Her shoulders began to shake even more.
He carefully cupped her cheek, doing his best to clean off the mud that
clung to her face. Gently guiding her head so that they had eye contact,
he spoke again. "Scully what is it? You can tell me. Whatever it is..."
She opened his mouth in an effort to respond, but the sob that she had
been holding back was the only thing that passed through her lips. She
shook her head and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Through her sobs, he
could barely make out the words, "I can't... I can't let you know... too
terrible..." Mulder pulled her more firmly into his embrace.
Mulder was silent for several moments. He let her spill her emotions
over him. The grief, the guilt, the anguish...
"Can you show me?" He asked hesitantly, not sure if it would work, not
sure if she would let him. "Please help me know."
His words, an echo of Samantha's, made her gasp. And then she remembered
her other words: "Let him know me."
He felt her nod against his shoulder. Other than that slight movement,
she gave no other indication that she'd heard him. He let himself open
to her.
-Flash-
He saw with a clarity that startled him. The connection between them was
growing, or perhaps their minds were becoming accustomed to the other.
Whatever it was, it provided with stark sharpness this new sorrow.
He saw a room, a white room. He was looking from her viewpoint. He saw
them, the aliens, looking down. Pain. So much pain. He felt it in his
chest. He wanted to pull away from it, but that would mean pulling away
from her, and could not let her face this alone.
-Flash-
Another face, looking down. Samantha. Oh my god, it was Samantha! Alive.
But Mulder began to feel a sense of dread overtake him as the image
continued. He knew that this was the source of Scully's anguish.
-Flash-
He saw his sister lean in and kiss his/Scully's cheek. "I'll be
following you shortly."
-Flash-
Collapsing, the world was collapsing in on him. He felt pain on his
forehead, but it was defused, filtered through two others.
-Flash-
Red hands. Hands red with blood. My god what does that mean?
-Flash-
"Tell him that I know him..."
-Flash-
Laughing...laughing...
-Flash-
The images were abruptly cut off. Cut off, not because the connection
had been broken, but because there were no more images to see. Mulder
knew. He knew, and he gasped with shock at the harshness of it.
Mulder pulled Scully impossibly close. His tears joined hers. Tears of
relief that he was holding her in his arms. Tears of sorrow for the
woman he would never get the chance to hold again.
And the rain fell.
* * * * * *