Dana appeared inside the apartment and looked around. The lights were off so Mulder, obviously, wasn't home yet. A glance at the mantle clock said that it was a little after midnight. She took a few minutes to just breath in the familiar scent of her husband and to look around. Her bare feet made no sound on the floor as she moved around. She let her fingers glide over the pictures that lined the bookshelf, opposite the fireplace. It was a variety of pictures. Some taken before they got to together, others were marriage pictures. One picture caught her eye and she picked it up. It was taken the day she died.
Feeling light headed, she moved over to the sofa and sat down. The picture was still in her hand. Memories of that day invaded her mind and she had to close her eyes. The date was July 7, 1999. It had been a boringly normal case. Nothing abnormal about it. She had been called in as an consultant to the local coroner and Mulder was asked to do the profile. His profile lead them to the guy. There was about twenty-five policemen around the building but the perp still managed to slip past them. They gave chase and somehow got separated. Mulder ended up on the fire escape while she was left on the street. He came out of nowhere and drug her into an alley. She didn't leave quietly or without a fight and could hear Mulder descending the fire escape ladder. Then she felt his breath on her neck as he whispered the last words she'd ever hear "I don't want to kill you but you leave me no choice." He pressed her against the wall, pulled his gun, pressed it to the corner of right eye brow and pulled the trigger. Everything after that was fuzzy but she could remember Mulder telling her to hang on before the coldness over took her and she was gone. Shivering, she dropped the picture to the floor and it shattered just as the key was turning in the door lock.
Mulder wasn't drunk but, at the same time, he wasn't sober. He had been invited to a party by one of his buddies and had accepted. Anything to make him forget about her. He drank, laughed and partied like a frat boy. It didn't feel right and he didn't want to be there but he had to act normal. He didn't want to see that damn shrink again and have her tell him that he needed to move on with his life and let his wife go. He flung open his door just in time to hear something smash. "Hello?" He called out as he withdrew with service revolver and stepped inside. He flipped the nearest light switch on and looked around. All was quiet. He flung the gun onto the small table behind the sofa, along with keys. Then he noticed the picture on the floor. His feet crunched the little shards of glass that had been launched away from the picture frame. He looked around once again, trying to figure out how the picture got from the bookshelf to in front of the sofa. It couldn't have fallen, to far. He picked it up and pulled the picture out of the frame and tossed the ruined frame into the waste paper basket beside the soda. Then he sunk into the sofa, looking at the picture, tracing her face with his finger. "Why did you leave me?"
"I didn't leave you, Mulder." She snapped and appeared , on the sofa, again, after having disappeared when the door opened.
He looked up and blinked before jumping to his feet and rubbing his eyes. "I must be drunker than I thought." He mumbled and eyed the person on his couch. "Now I'm seeing things."
She raised her eyebrow and smiled. "Seeing things? My, you have changed. I thought you believed in ghosts?"
"I do." He found himself saying then stopped. "But I don't believe in talking to myself and your not real." He looked at the picture again and then to the sofa, expecting her to be gone but she wasn't.
"You're not talking to yourself, Mulder. You're talking to me." She stood and walked over to him, placing her hand on his leather jacket clad arm.
He jumped feeling the weight of her hand on his arm. He even yelped. "I...uh...You're dead." He stated the obvious then placed his hand over hers. She felt cold but real.
"I know I am, Mulder. No need to remind me." She frowned and pulled away from his touch, crossing her arms over her simple white, lose, dress clad chest. She couldn't help but think about him partying. "I see that you have a good time tonight." She mumbled after the few moments of silence.
"Wha...you saw me at Gideon's party? How?" He still hadn't moved from where he stood but he did shrug off his jacket and toss it over a nearby chair.
"Of course I did. The first time I get to check up on you and what do I see? I see you partying!" Her chest was heaving in anger but she couldn't help it. She could feel all her emotions here unlike in heaven where they were dulled and numbed.
He was confused and his head was pounding so with a groan he sat back down on the sofa. "He was my friend." He shrugged. "He asked me to go so I did." It felt natural for him to explain and even smiled at her sheepishly.
"I'm sorry, Mulder." She sighed and sat down beside him, tucking her legs up under her. "It just hurt seeing you so...carefree and laughing. Like I never existed."
He eyed her and turned on the sofa, mimicking her position. "So there really is life after death?" He asked, offhandedly then cleared his throat.
"Yes. I can personally say that there is life after death. But not much of a life. Everything is too perfect. Too normal. It's like a never ending dream that I'm stuck in. The sky is always blue. The grass is always green." She smiled, sadly.
He reached a hand over and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "Too normal? I think I rubbed off on you, Scully." He mumbled, getting lost in her blue orbs. "I can't believe you're sitting here with me. It's been three years, why didn't you come sooner?"
She shrugged. "I wasn't allowed. I still hadn't accepted my fate and I still haven't. But I guess they realized that I was never going to accept it. My dad and Melissa tried time and time again to get me to let you go. But I couldn't. I can't. You have no idea what it's like there. To be stuck there for eternity knowing that you can't ever leave."
"There? Where is there?" He was curious and awed at the same time. But his mind was still telling him that he was drunk enough to be seeing hallucinations.
"Heaven." She waved her hand towards the ceiling. "Or whatever you want to call it. It's not all it's cracked up to be. I'd take life any day."
He was at a loss for words. Here he was talking to his wife who was a ghost about heaven. Something he didn't even believe in. "So what now? You leave again? Leave me alone to suffer through life when I'd take death any day? I don't know what to do with myself anymore. I hear the guys talking about their wives and families and can't help but feel envious. I mention you and they go quiet and it gets awkward. Your mother hasn't talked to me since the funeral and Bill makes it a point to call me every few weeks to remind what a loser I am. What do I have left here? I'll tell you what. Nothing. I'm nothing without you."
Scully listened to him with sadness. So he did hurt as bad as her maybe even more. She smiled and slid over to him, wrapping her arms around his body. It felt good to hold him. "I love you so much that it hurts."
He wrapped his arms around her smaller frame and just let her hold him. He buried his nose in her hair and took in her scent. She smelled like flowers. "I love you too." He mumbled and kissed her forehead where he replaced his lips with his own forehead. They stayed like that for hours, unaware that they were being watched from above.