As he walked through the echoing hospital halls, Mulder glanced at his watch. Almost 10:00 pm. He hoped that he would be allowed to see Scully.
The hospital room door was ajar and Mulder silently pushed it open. Scully's frail figure was curled up in the stark white bed, her back turned towards the door. As Mulder grew closer, he could hear Scully's deep, rasping breathing. His hand reached out to touch her, to wake her, but hesitated when he noticed the journal. The dark, leather-bound notebook was lying open on Scully's bedside table and Mulder could clearly see his name written at the top of a filled page. It was decorated neatly in cursive with hearts, much like a third-grader would decorate the coveted name of a first crush.
Deeply curious, Mulder picked up the journal and read:
Mulder –
Even as I write this, I tremble at the thought that this could be goodbye. These long, painful hours in this bed have inspired me to write the thoughts that crowd my weary mind. If I shall pass on, I would like you to think of this as a tribute to your sweet inspiration.
As the earth turns, it produces day and night. As it orbits the sun, the earth produces seasons. And as it pulls the moon along, it causes tides. These endless cycles of light and dark, hot and cold, and wet and dry produce a rhythm, a planetary beat. It is this earthly pulse that has set the internal clocks of every living creature and produced our human sense of time. Basic to our rhythm is the ebb and flow of our personal biological clocks. As the chemotherapy weakens my mind and might, I can feel the throbbing tick of this clock. It fills my mind and engulfs my senses. Some days it is so overpowering, it takes all the strength I have to ignore it. I do fear that the end is near, Mulder. I can feel it like a sliver that I can't seem to get rid of, one that digs deep into the skin and consumes all attention. And when you come to the end of everything you know, and the next step is into the depths of darkness of the great unknown, you must believe one of two things: Either you will step out onto firm ground or you will be taught to fly.
I had the most peculiar dream the other night. I dreamt that I had died and was floating above my bed, looking down at my lifeless body. The room was dark and no one was around. I remember thinking that it wasn't my time to go, and this is what was keeping me suspended in that room. It was like when I was alive, I believed - as you do - that time was at least as real and solid as myself, and probably more so. I said "one o'clock" as though I could see it, and "Monday" as if I could find it on the map. Like everyone else I lived in a house bricked up with seconds and minutes and New Year's Days, and I never went outside because there was no other door. Now I know that I could have walked through the walls. I realized that time didn't matter and that, in the end, it was what we made of the time we were given, not what we had spent our time on. Every human being is a part of this time. Only when I grew to love you did I understand the relativity of time; then, I wished to embrace you forever, hoping that eternity would last just a few minutes more.
Mulder, I need you to know. I need you to know about all the times I have wanted to touch you, to embrace you. All the times you have lifted my spirits and sent me soaring. All the times I have needed your strength and your light. All the times I have been too afraid to say "I Love You". I know now, as I am faced with the dark future of death, that life really is too precious to not act upon feelings. I apologize for never telling you this before. But I will tell you now. I love you. I love you, Fox Mulder, and I will forever. You are part of my existence, part of myself. You have been in every line I have ever read. You have been in every prospect I have ever seen - on the river, on the sails of the ships, on the marshes, in the clouds, in the light, in the darkness, in the wind, in the woods, in the sea in the streets. You have been the embodiment of every graceful fancy that my mind has ever become acquainted with. The stones of which the strongest buildings are made are not more real, or more impossible to be displaced by your hands, than your presence and influence have been to me, there and everywhere, and will be. To the last hour of my life, you cannot choose but remain part of my character, part of the little good in me, part of the evil. But in this separation, I associate you only with the good, and I will faithfully hold you to that always, for you must have done me far more good than harm.
In all our years together I have found that you have given me so much advice and knowledge. I would now like to share with you some things I have learned in my solitary hours here; things that I have realized mean more than who is right or who is wrong...
Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and ignorant; they too have their story.. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble, it's a real possession in the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass. Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.
Mulder stopped reading. He shakily put the journal back down on the table, his mind spinning with the words he had just read. Walking around to the other side of the bed, Mulder took a seat in the stiff chair that was there. Gently slipping his hand into Scully's, Mulder gazed at her. Her usually well-kept hair was mused and dark rings surrounded her eyes. Her ashen cheeks seemed shallow and Mulder could see where her hair was starting to thin from the chemo. Despite all these, Mulder could not think of a more beautiful woman. Tears silently streamed down his face as he watched his partner sleep and he sobbed quietly, sliding down to kneel in front of Scully, softly placing his lips against her hand.
The minutes passed and so did Mulder's tears. He resumed his position in the chair, content to just sit and watch Scully sleep. He could not stand to see her in so much pain and relished these quite moments that she slept, knowing that she was someone where there was no pain, no cancer. Soon Mulder's eyes fell shut and he too snoozed in a land of no pain, only love.
XXXXXX
Author's Note: Sorry it took so long to update on this story. I've been quite busy lately and haven't had much time to just sit and write. And to "give credit where credit is due", the whole thing about the planetary beat and producing time and all that was actually taken from my end-of-level test I took back in May. While taking the test I was like "OO! This is like something Scully would say!" So I copied down and put it in here. And also the thing from her dream about thinking about time and realizing about walking through walls, that is actually from The Skull, The Last Unicorn. Some more quotes inside there are from Anthony Constantino, Claire Norris, and Charles Dickens So...yea...I think that is all. Please review! It makes me feel good and inspires me to keep writing!!!
The hospital room door was ajar and Mulder silently pushed it open. Scully's frail figure was curled up in the stark white bed, her back turned towards the door. As Mulder grew closer, he could hear Scully's deep, rasping breathing. His hand reached out to touch her, to wake her, but hesitated when he noticed the journal. The dark, leather-bound notebook was lying open on Scully's bedside table and Mulder could clearly see his name written at the top of a filled page. It was decorated neatly in cursive with hearts, much like a third-grader would decorate the coveted name of a first crush.
Deeply curious, Mulder picked up the journal and read:
Mulder –
Even as I write this, I tremble at the thought that this could be goodbye. These long, painful hours in this bed have inspired me to write the thoughts that crowd my weary mind. If I shall pass on, I would like you to think of this as a tribute to your sweet inspiration.
As the earth turns, it produces day and night. As it orbits the sun, the earth produces seasons. And as it pulls the moon along, it causes tides. These endless cycles of light and dark, hot and cold, and wet and dry produce a rhythm, a planetary beat. It is this earthly pulse that has set the internal clocks of every living creature and produced our human sense of time. Basic to our rhythm is the ebb and flow of our personal biological clocks. As the chemotherapy weakens my mind and might, I can feel the throbbing tick of this clock. It fills my mind and engulfs my senses. Some days it is so overpowering, it takes all the strength I have to ignore it. I do fear that the end is near, Mulder. I can feel it like a sliver that I can't seem to get rid of, one that digs deep into the skin and consumes all attention. And when you come to the end of everything you know, and the next step is into the depths of darkness of the great unknown, you must believe one of two things: Either you will step out onto firm ground or you will be taught to fly.
I had the most peculiar dream the other night. I dreamt that I had died and was floating above my bed, looking down at my lifeless body. The room was dark and no one was around. I remember thinking that it wasn't my time to go, and this is what was keeping me suspended in that room. It was like when I was alive, I believed - as you do - that time was at least as real and solid as myself, and probably more so. I said "one o'clock" as though I could see it, and "Monday" as if I could find it on the map. Like everyone else I lived in a house bricked up with seconds and minutes and New Year's Days, and I never went outside because there was no other door. Now I know that I could have walked through the walls. I realized that time didn't matter and that, in the end, it was what we made of the time we were given, not what we had spent our time on. Every human being is a part of this time. Only when I grew to love you did I understand the relativity of time; then, I wished to embrace you forever, hoping that eternity would last just a few minutes more.
Mulder, I need you to know. I need you to know about all the times I have wanted to touch you, to embrace you. All the times you have lifted my spirits and sent me soaring. All the times I have needed your strength and your light. All the times I have been too afraid to say "I Love You". I know now, as I am faced with the dark future of death, that life really is too precious to not act upon feelings. I apologize for never telling you this before. But I will tell you now. I love you. I love you, Fox Mulder, and I will forever. You are part of my existence, part of myself. You have been in every line I have ever read. You have been in every prospect I have ever seen - on the river, on the sails of the ships, on the marshes, in the clouds, in the light, in the darkness, in the wind, in the woods, in the sea in the streets. You have been the embodiment of every graceful fancy that my mind has ever become acquainted with. The stones of which the strongest buildings are made are not more real, or more impossible to be displaced by your hands, than your presence and influence have been to me, there and everywhere, and will be. To the last hour of my life, you cannot choose but remain part of my character, part of the little good in me, part of the evil. But in this separation, I associate you only with the good, and I will faithfully hold you to that always, for you must have done me far more good than harm.
In all our years together I have found that you have given me so much advice and knowledge. I would now like to share with you some things I have learned in my solitary hours here; things that I have realized mean more than who is right or who is wrong...
Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and ignorant; they too have their story.. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble, it's a real possession in the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass. Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.
Mulder stopped reading. He shakily put the journal back down on the table, his mind spinning with the words he had just read. Walking around to the other side of the bed, Mulder took a seat in the stiff chair that was there. Gently slipping his hand into Scully's, Mulder gazed at her. Her usually well-kept hair was mused and dark rings surrounded her eyes. Her ashen cheeks seemed shallow and Mulder could see where her hair was starting to thin from the chemo. Despite all these, Mulder could not think of a more beautiful woman. Tears silently streamed down his face as he watched his partner sleep and he sobbed quietly, sliding down to kneel in front of Scully, softly placing his lips against her hand.
The minutes passed and so did Mulder's tears. He resumed his position in the chair, content to just sit and watch Scully sleep. He could not stand to see her in so much pain and relished these quite moments that she slept, knowing that she was someone where there was no pain, no cancer. Soon Mulder's eyes fell shut and he too snoozed in a land of no pain, only love.
XXXXXX
Author's Note: Sorry it took so long to update on this story. I've been quite busy lately and haven't had much time to just sit and write. And to "give credit where credit is due", the whole thing about the planetary beat and producing time and all that was actually taken from my end-of-level test I took back in May. While taking the test I was like "OO! This is like something Scully would say!" So I copied down and put it in here. And also the thing from her dream about thinking about time and realizing about walking through walls, that is actually from The Skull, The Last Unicorn. Some more quotes inside there are from Anthony Constantino, Claire Norris, and Charles Dickens So...yea...I think that is all. Please review! It makes me feel good and inspires me to keep writing!!!