Author's Note: Sorry it's been so long,I really have been terribly busy. Hope you like it, there should be more to come soon. Hopefully.

Oh God. That was all she could think of, and that might be best. For all she remembers now, it is most certainly best. Yes, definitely words will do this feeling no justice. Shock and betrayal comes first, and that's easy because it's the most natural. She has a right to these feelings, she knows, but still they don't seem right. Four years he's waited... and so has she, and she knows this in some form. Then fear, because she misses him, and because, most of all, she loves him... still. Why? It's as good of a question as any, and she'd love to know the answer. She fears not rejection, but the slow and painful distance that had grown between them.

Finally there comes grief, because she knows there is nothing she can do about it. She loves him, and she will most certainly go back to him. How can she love him after what he has done? She is not sure, but it is what happened, and she knows only to accept it. She is torn, knowing she can't go back to him, not now, but she knows she must. It is, in essence, the only option.

Margaret explained to her in great detail many things, including the death of Mulder's wife and child, and his grief not over that loss, but over her. She feels guilt then, for causing him such pain. But she knows that it is his love for her that is the cause of this, and then she is elated for such a privilege – she loves him without hesitation. Then there is embarrassment, for her brief joy, because he lived as a shell for four years without her, and then she feels pity and guilt. There were so many emotions, all colliding into one another. And why not, after what she remembered? Yes, Oh, God is all there is to think of. And all there needs to be.

Sitting in her hospital bed, Scully reflects over her original reactions, and decide all there is left to do is see him. She is not afraid. She doesn't have to be.


He steps in quietly, his heart pounding in fear. He feels rejection just around the corner. She looks up at him, and her face is impossible to read. He used to be so well at knowing her every thought, but not anymore. Oh, how he wished he could change that. Yet he had wished a few things in these years, and not a one has come true... until now. He bows his head in embarrassment. "I'm sorry," he whispers, and then is afraid he will have to repeat it because she didn't hear, and he knows his voice is shaking. She must think him but a baby.

"For what?" She questions, and for a moment he thinks she didn't remember. But she did, he knows it. It is somewhere written on her face, but it is like a foreign language and it is difficult to read.

"For... you know. What happened. What I did." He answers, knowing of course she knew the answer, but willing to say it anyway, to convey his pain. In that moment he realizes he is asking for pity, and he doesn't want pity. He wants forgiveness... love, if she'll give it.

"Don't be. The past is past." She smiles like it is so easy, but he can't smile back – he doesn't quite remember how; he's sure those muscles have atrophied. Painful silence interludes, and he remembers a time when silence was never painful. "Don't," she repeats, and he finds tears in his eyes. He shakes his head.

"It's too late... too late." he defeats, and he recognizes pain in her eyes.

"No. It's never too late." she attempts. He is adamant.

"Yes, it has long been too late." he insists, and she knows it to be true.

"Can't we try Mulder? Can't we at least try? You have no idea what it's like to wake up knowing something's missing." And of course she realizes she is wrong, he knows better than anyone.

He shakes his head. "I don't think we can." Her head bows and he knows she is crying. He doesn't know what to say. "I'm sorry," and this time it isn't for what happened, what he did. This time he apologizes because he knows there is no hope in sight.

Author's Note: Shame, I know, there should've been a song. I just didn't know a good one to use. MSR to come soon; I had to let the story run its own course, and, well, here we are. And if you haven't written a review, but you've read thus far, WRITE A FRICKING REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!