When the Night Falls On You
Chapter Three: Death Wish
He had always had a kind of a death wish. He must have to do all the crazy things he has been known for. Some part of him believed that in dying, he would walk up to those pearly gates and discover the truth. All of it. No more running for his live though dark, musty old sewers after some government-sponsored mutant or having to worry about his own or Scully's well being. To just have them there, all laid out for him next to a good, hot meal surrounded by all the sunflower seeds he could eat. But he knew, long before that strange dream or hallucination or whatever that was of his nearly a year before that if he chose such a road, there would be no one to oppose the dark forces he was trying to fight, and certainly no one left to bring them justice.[1]
Now, he knew the truth. He knew what had happened to his sister and to Scully. The men behind these heinous crimes were dead, killing themselves in a kind of poetic justice.[2] Now he was really faced with death. And it terrified him. Terrified him so much that he couldn't bring himself to tell Scully. He tried to reason with himself that he was protecting her. He remembered how terrified he had been when she had been ill with cancer – how worried he had been about her, how afraid he had been of losing her. But most of all, he remembered how helpless – how powerless - he had felt to not be able to do anything about it. He didn't want her to suffer through that as he had. He had, after all, been to see the best doctors in the country on this subject, and not a single one of them had a cure for him – all they could do was prolong his life a little longer. And if that was all they could do, what could Scully do for him without any kind of special training in the area? Be there for him? She already was, and she wasn't suffering for him, the way he knew she would be had she known. It was for the better that she didn't know until the end.
But even he knew that wasn't true. She deserved to know. He was just so scared, and by not telling her, it made it a little less true for him. It was a lame excuse, he knew that, and now he wondered if she knew. The look he had just seen on her face...the fact that she was clinging onto him so tight right now, like she was trying to keep someone from taking him from her. He had done his best to hide his illness from her, but she did know him pretty well – pretty damn well. She was a doctor, and she was very intuitive, despite herself. Maybe she had figured it out on her own.
Then again, maybe he was just flattering himself. Maybe whatever it was that was bothering her right now had nothing to do with him. Indeed, he didn't know much of anything about her personal life. It was a possibility, but he didn't expect that to be the case. Whatever it was, she didn't want to talk about it. He could respect that. Indeed, there were things he probably should have been telling her right now, but just didn't want to talk about. Still, she looked so sad; so lonely. He felt bad. He didn't like seeing her like this, but he didn't know what to do for her.
The song had finished, and with it, the CD, but she was still dancing with him, as though she hadn't realized the music had stopped. Well, she wasn't dancing, exactly, more going through the motions she was supposed to be doing. *She's really out of it* he thought to himself.
"Scully?" No answer. He stopped her from dancing any longer and lessened their embrace so he could look her in the face. She looked him straight in the eye, with a look of such desperation and agony and he imagined that she was looking straight through him.
"Okay, you're starting to scare me now."
"Sorry...I…I…it's just…nightmares."
"You want some water or something?"
"I'd like to sit down, actually."
"All right," and he lead her over to sit back on the couch.
"You look really spooked. Like you've seen a ghost or something. You sure you don't want to share your nightmares with me?"
"It's just this weird dream I keep having. You're tied down or something, and I can't really see you, but I can hear you. You're calling for my help, but somehow, I know it's already too late…like I've already lost you or something…"
*Oh, shit, she does know!* he thought. *Gotta cover!*
"Sounds kinda kinky to me."
She shot him a look full of shock, anger, frustration. * Success!* he mused.
"Yeah, well, it's got me a little shaken up."
"Hey, it's just a dream."
"A dream. Mulder, in your words, 'a dream is an answer to a question we haven't yet learned how to ask.'"[3]
"Yeah, well, I say a lot of things, including a lot of bull shit. Maybe it's an answer to a question you don't know how to ask yet. Maybe it means that you wanna tie me down and…"
"Okay, that's enough of your interpretations!"
"Right. Look what I'm trying to say is maybe you shouldn't look too much into it, okay?"
"Well, I've been trying not to, but…I've started having it while I'm awake now."
"Whew! You know – and, hey, I know I didn't know her all that well, but – you're starting to sound like your sister. I mean, all this dream interpretation stuff, that's not you. Man, Scully, I thought you didn't believe in that kind of stuff!"
She let out a little laugh at that. "Yeah, well. I guess people change."
"Yeah. I guess they do."
They sat there in silence for a moment. But only for a moment.
"Would it really be so bad?" Mulder was quiet, serious when he broke the silence.
"Huh?"
"If something like what you're talking about were to happen to me – hypothetically – would it really matter?"
"What?!" The shock returned, but it was mixed with a kind of sympathy this time. And sadness.
"I mean, it seems to me I've pretty much served my purpose here on earth, and it's not like I got any family left or anything to stay for and –"
"And what am I, chopped liver?"
He was a little hurt that she thought she meant so little to him but then by the way he was talking he couldn't really blame her.
"No –"
"Mulder…I can't believe I'm hearing this from you…I mean how can you be saying these things?"
"I guess…I'm just feeling kinda…useless these days," and he realized it was true as he said it.
"Mulder, you sound like you're comparing yourself to some obsolete EKG monitor with the little suction thinggies"
He had to laugh at that one. Leave it Scully to compare him to medical equipment and throw the word "thingies" in with it. She ventured upon a nervous laughed, too.
"Okay, you know. I'm getting the strangest sensation of deja-vu, and you know, the last time I sat here and had a heart-to-heart talk over alcohol with that face, it wasn't you, so who are you and what have you done with my partner?"[4]
"Wha – no, it's…it's really me Scully."
"Right. Okay." She got up to leave. Well, this has been great and all, but…"
"No, no wait!" He headed after her. She turned and looked at him expectantly.
"What, you want me to prove it?"
"Some verification would be nice."
"Okay…okay…ahh…let's see…you're mother's name is Maggie, you're brother's name is Billy and he hates me, you're badge number is….hell, I don't know your badge number, but…."[5]
"Anyone could know that just by a simple background check. The real Mulder would never be so –"
"Your dog! You're dog's name was Queequeg. It was this annoying little yipper thing. You got it from Clyde Bruckman. It got eaten by an alligator while I was in my hotel room looking at pictures of teeth, or whatever they were. That night, you told me you had picked the name after one of the characters from Moby Dick, then you compared me to Ahab, and I said I might like to have a peg leg, cuz then it would just be enough to keep living with such a handicap. Ha-ha! How's that for a memory like an elephant's?"[6]
"I could argue with you that 'they'" she emphasized the word with a quotation gesture "are everywhere, listening to everything and 'they' provided you – an imposter – with such detailed information."
He just looked at her as she paused.
"But, that's your style, not mine." Mulder inwardly leaped for joy that she wasn't leaving quite yet, and that she hadn't used one of his own paranoid rantings against him as they both sat back down on the couch. She still looked pretty nervous, though, and he realized that his own convincing powers hadn't kept her from leaving so much as her own desire to stay with him.
"Seriously, though, Mulder…Do you really think no one would miss you?"
"I wonder sometimes."
"I care about you."
She looked at him as if waiting for a response, but he just stared back at her.
"Maybe…maybe that's why this dream is bothering me so…maybe...maybe the question I can't ask myself is…how would I feel if I lost you?"
"And?"
"Well, the dream's the answer, right? And in the dream I feel so angry, scared, desperate, and most of all…"
"Helpless."
"Yeah."
"And the fact that it's coming while you're awake…?"
"Scares me even more."
Pause.
"Is this what tonight's all about, Mulder? You trying to tell me that you've been feeling down lately?"
"No, I…I just wanted to watch a stupid movie with you. And, you know. Enjoy your company. "
"Right. Well, look Mulder, I don't know what these dreams mean, or – or if they mean anything at all. But I can tell you that I do care about you. You mean so much to me, and you don't even know it. Mulder, you're my best friend, and if I were ever to lose you…I'd never forgive myself."
Funny. That seemed to be the same way he felt about her. It felt good hearing she felt that way, too. He wanted to say something to her. But nothing came. Nothing orderly, anyway, and nothing he felt like he could really share with her. So, he hugged her instead.
"Thanks, Scully. That – that means a lot to me," he said when he finally thought of something coherent to say to her.
"Anytime."
Suddenly, it was as if he could feel her drift away from him again, without even looking at her face. He pulled away from her enough to see her face, but never let go. Indeed, she looked light years away. And terrified.
"Scully?"
Her eyes snapped back to him.
"Wha-? Mulder? It happened again." He voice was barely audible. "Mulder?"
"Yeah, I'm right here." His was full of concern.
"Don't leave me." She was shaking.
"Never. No matter what happens, I'll always be with you. I promise." As he noticed the tears pooling in her eyes start to trickle down her cheek, he wondered if on some level, she realized the full weight of his words.
He hated seeing her cry. She rarely ever did, and he was grateful of being saved from having to see it so often, but at the same time, it made times like these all the more painful for him to witness.
He brushed the tears off her face. He felt her start to collect herself again, but she was still crying.
"Sorry, Mulder, I just…"
"It's okay."
He leaned in closer, barely aware of how close their faces were. "Hey…" and he brushed away another tear and kissed her cheek where it had been. He did the same with the other cheek. He kissed her forehead, then moved his face back down so they were eye-to-eye, nose-to-nose, their foreheads touching. Hardly realizing he had closed his eyes, he opened them, to find hers were closed, tears still leaking their way out from between her eyelids. He hadn't meant to put any moves on her that night. It just felt like the right thing to do. And when he kissed her lips. Gently. He didn't even realize that he was kissing – really kissing – the auburn-headed woman he spent so much time with. In fact he wasn't thinking much of anything at all. He just…felt like it was the right thing to do.
To be continued…
[1] Refers to the "Last Temptation of Mulder" scenes in "The Sixth Extinction II: Amor Fati."
[2] The Syndicate was incinerated by the "faceless" rebel aliens in "One Son."
[3] Originally a quote from Mulder in "Aubrey." Later repeated by Scully in "Paper Hearts."
[4] Once again, a reference to "Small Potatoes."
[5] All right, this is from "Dreamland I" when Mulder was trying to convince Scully that it was really him in Fletchers body. It's not an exact quote, but that's roughly what I remember him saying.
[6] All from "Quagmire."