Come gather 'round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You'll be drenched to the bone.
If your time to you
Is worth savin'
Then you better start swimmin'
Or you'll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin'

–Bob Dylan

She thought it would have given her some peace, thought that her little visit would have evened everything out. Bi such luck.

She had found her way home after her visit with her ex-partner. Had driven on auto pilot til she made her way back to her tiny apartment.

He looked happy, she mused with a rush of mixed emotions. He looked happy and content.

Fucking bastard.

Once she hit the front door, she made a bee-line for the medicine cabinet. Everything was twisted, everything was muddled. She had briefly caught a glimpse of the red-head in the mirror. Oh God, she thought I look like hell.

This had been planned for a while, she had wanted to get it done and over with, wanted to put a final end to all of the torment her mind afforded her. Up until her drive to Fresno, she had hated him, had wanted so badly to pull the trigger and end his hold over her for once and for all. When the time came, she hesitated, why? She had killed before, and for far less, why could she not stand and deliver this time.

Because I knew it would not end this pain. I knew it would go on even if he had assumed room temperature. His face would still haunt her, his face would still torment her. Ans at the very crux of every emotion that ran through her mind, there was still one single salutary truth that she had to face in the end.

I guess I still love him. Oh God how could I have done this? I should have spoke to him sooner.

We're here Scully, whenever you change your mind... His words called out to her, reached her from across time. He had always been there for her, had always come to his rescue, and she his.

What have I done? It hit her for the first time I have pushed everyone away, I have run away from this for so long there is no way to go back. Even her brothers had given up. After Mom died they would beg, plead for her to come to family gatherings. She had flatly refused, Charlie had come last Christmas Eve, just showed up on her doorstep. "Come on Dana," he begged. "We can have a nice Christmas, and put all the past behind." They didn't understand why she was so angry, she never told them. The shame was too great.

"No Charlie, please just leave, I don't think I can handle a happy family at this point, ok?" She offered him a frail smile, a shadow of one that used to grace her strong features.

"Not good enough Danes." He forced. "We have tried to get you out of the hole you dug yourself into, we go through the same song and dance every damn holiday. At least Mom could get through to you, but I don't have that power Dana." She used to at least try, and they would go through the same routine every time. He and Bill would run through thier houses hiding any and all remnants of Dylan. It had become a sick joke in the Scully family. Dylan was the child that did not exist. He once felt sorry for what his sister had become, yet in the last few months, that sympathy had turned into a sort of loathing for what she had become.

"This is your last chance Dana," Charlie warned. Bill and I we, we don't know how to fix you. Your walls are so thick. What happened to you Dana? Was it the coma? The baby? What?

She had answered his questions about her mental state in the same way as she had the last four years. Her blank stare said little and spoke volumes.

Charlie raised his hands up. "All right I give up, call us when you are ready to join the land of the living again. Love you sis"With that he left.

Now sitting in the soft dusk of her living room, she pondered what had become of the shambles of her life. She missed him, she knew that. Seeing him today had awakened emotions in her that she had kept buried with the pills. She had seen pictures of Dylan before. The last Christmas before Maggie died. In a last ditch effort that night, after they had returned form Bill's for Dinner, Maggie had dragged out the family album that she kept. "Dana, " she began. "I need a Christmas present from you."

"What Mom?" she asked from the kitchen.

"Can you come in here and sit with me?" Her mom had given up a lot to stay and take care of her, when it came to Maggie Scully, she had a hard time saying no.

Initially, Dana assumed Maggie wanted to sit and reminisce But after a few innocuous photos of family, the pictures of Dylan began. "Mom," she warned getting up.

Maggie grabbed her hand and shook her head. "No Dana, I need this." Dana had picked up something in her voice that made her acquiesce.. She stared as Maggie flipped the pages, babbling on about what picture meant what.

She had to admit, the little girl was cute. Dana found herself staring at the smiling face of Dylan. She kind of reminded her of a red haired Samantha. Dana hoped that Mulder noticed that too, that Dylan stood as reminder of the two females in his life that he would never see again.

They looked at the pictures all night, and for some reason Dana found it almost comforting.

Now, alone in her apartment, Dana went in search through her mother's things and brought out the album. She flipped through them, slowly. There were pictures of Dylan as an infant, sitting in a bathtub, Her first little wobbly steps, her first birthday. She missed it all, she had become the absentee parent.

She cried then, for the first time she cried not cry for herself. The self pity momentarily forgotten, she cried for the motherless little girl who was still so brave to smile in those pictures. She wnated to touch her, to snuggle into her in a rocking chair and read Good Night Moon to her. She wanted to be her mother.

Then the reality hit her full on the face. Too much water had gone under that bridge, too much time had passed for her to show up in her daughter's life and demand her for her love. Oh God she hurt.

She gathered everything together, the envelope addressed to Dylan, her small notes and the implements she needed. Even though she had a gun in her purse, Scully knew it wean't fool proof. She had saved up her meds for a month, had catagorized all her belongings, and purchased a fifth of Jim Bean.

Soft music played from her steero as she popped pill after pil, washing it down with the strong whiskey. She laid back on the couch, clutching the photo album and mumbling prayers for her forgiveness.

And as Bob Dylan played on the cd, Dana Scully drifted off to sweet oblivion.

He was in the middle of his 8 am class when he got the phone call. He always left it on vibrate during classes. The caller idea informed him he needed to take this call. He excused himself and told the class to study quietly.

"Charlie," He choked. "What's wrong?" He knew some how he had known, but he needed to hear the words spoken, needed what his old job would have called verbal confirmation.

"She's gone Mulder." He whimpered. "We found her this morning, she has been gone for a while." The man's voice wasn't going to hold for much longer, and he knew he had to keep him talking to get the information he needed.

"How?" He asked.

"Mulder, she hasn't been right for a long time, she..." Yeah Mulder knew that too.

"All right, make the arrangements and let me know if you need anything give me a call. I have to go tell my daughter her mother is dead."

The funeral was held three days later, closed casket. He had debated bringing Dylan, it seemed really cruel to bring her to the funeral for a mother she never knew,. But in the end it was Scully who made the choice for him. Scully of all people.

Found on her coffee table, amongst the hastily scrawled suicide note, and the crude will. She had placed her cross in an envelope and addressed it to Dylan. No note for her, no hey sorry kid. But the cross said it all.

She was also found clutching a photo album that Maggie had put together of photos of Dylan.

Dylan wanted to come, all in all she took it pretty well, though he knew she would eventually be following the Mulder tradition of early counseling.

She stood there amongst her uncles, holding court as usual. They told her endless stories of her mother, and she smiled. She was wearing the little gold cross around her neck and had began the traditon of fingering it when she was nervous.

He had not cried yet, could not bring himself to do it, could not get to his head that he should cry. The anger spilled over, she had taken the cowards way out, she had decided that she herself knew better her fate, and she had robbed Dylan of what she deserved.

He walked over to the grave sight after the ceremony, Bill offered to take Dylan home so that he could have some time alone. He bent down and traced the name on the stone. He sighed and begnan to feel the bitter tears welling in his eyes.

"You were never meant for this Scully, you were meant for so much better. Why didn't you call me, oh yeah cause I raped you..." His voice was shaky, and rising.

"I love you, and I always will. There will never be anyone else for me, the only woman in my life now watches Bambi and cries."

He stood up reached into his pocket and puled out a stone. It was a pink quartz, with streaks of black running through it. "I know your're aren't Jewich but..." He began openly crying now.

"I wish I could go back and choose you Dana." And as he placed the stone on top of her grave marker the world went black.

"See Mr. Mulder," he heard a familiar voice say. "You made your choice now how hard was that?"

"Mulder?" He heard another familiar voice calling to him from the darkness, "Mulder, oh thank God you are awake, I thought we were gonna have to do this for another twenty minutes." She smiled down at him, her face a plethora of emotions, all happy.

"Huh?" he mumbled. What the Fuck?

He opened his eyes to confirm the voice was real and not some amalgamation of his guilt.

"Scully?" he asked "Are you gonna shoot me now?" Then it hit him. "Where's Dylan? Did you see her yet? I have to go get her from bill's, she worries if I don't show up on time. Truthfully," he mused raising himself up and looking for his clothes. "I am more than a little afraid of her." Why the hell am I in a hospital?

"Mulder, who the fuck is Dylan, and why would you have to pick her up from my brother's house? Remember Mulder he hates your guts."

Please don't kill me, I had this planned all along, but it gets better i swear ok?

In hindsight i should have warned yall this was coming, but that would be like telling someone waht you got them for christmas.

Rosie, I have been looking for that quote, thank you for sending it to me, it is now my favorite.

I will have yall know I cried the whole time i wrote this chapter, my sister told me i was nuts, she is mad for how it turned out and wants to see the rest, and she is not even an x files fan LOL

Thanks for staying with me and plzzz flames are a comin i know

I can take it LOL