She had once asked him if he would quit the FBI. If they had started a family, would he be willing to rip himself away from the one other thing he was so dedicated to, to devote his life to their family.

He said yes. And this took her by surprise.

She was ready to hear the no. Ready to accept the fact that to the X-Files, she would always be in second place. At times it felt that way. At times she didn't. So she needed to know.

He had said yes. Yes to throwing away years of work – the search for his sister – for her. It had meant more to him than anything. She knew it was true.

He once said that he would do anything for her. She said that anything could be dangerous. He didn't mind. She was worth it.

Now, as Mulder looked at death in the face, he recalled the day when he devoted himself to her. It could have been when they first met, but he remembered those feelings of animosity towards her. Here was this young, impressionable woman, ready to make her mark in a world full of men. How could he have anything but hate towards her? She represented everything that he despised, but somehow, she had won him over.

He thinks it could have been in the rain. Her revelation. His revelation. It was then, yes, when he realized that perhaps she was not everything he made her out to be. The psychologist was wrong, but the man was right. As a man he was attracted to her. Who wouldn't be? For all the reasons he hated her, he loved her.

After the rain, everything started to fall apart. For the first time in years he was able to tell her the story of his life – of his sister- without any criticism. Little green men? Doubtful and yet accepted. Abductions? Unlikely but people return.

And so he fell in love and she fell in love and together they made promises stronger than those of normal people.

Now, as Mulder looked at death in the face, he realized that he could not let this devil win. There was too much at stake.

He started to laugh. He had survived much worse than this. Much worse. He was not going to let a madman bring him down now.

"Give up Muld-ar. I've won."

Eddie yelled these words. He could not believe his eyes. A moment before, they had beheld a defeated and dying man but now, before him was an energized man, revengeful, and determined.

The pain burned through his bones but he could not let that deter him. Scully needed him and surely she was in worse condition than him. Surely she was still hanging on because he could still feel her, needing him. What damage had Eddie done to her? Psychological, physical. Mulder simply suffered nothing in comparison, this he was sure of. He had to save her.

Mulder got up slowly but proudly. Eddie stood in disbelief. How was this possible? A moment before he was certain that he had won but now his victory seemed dim. He could have easily shot Mulder back down, but he did not. Why?

Still clutching his gun, Mulder stood at full length. What a fool Eddie had been. Blinded by his own supposed victory, he had slipped and left his enemy with the most dangerous of weapons.

Eddie looked down at his own weapon still in his hands. The bloodied knife versus the gun. Would he take the risk for eluding death once more? Could he be faster? Did he fear his death?

"Give up Edward. I won."

Mulder said this in a mocking tone. His eyes shone with a fierce intensity.

"And you know I've won. And it's killing you."

Eddie loosened his grip on the knife a bit.

"I just wanted …"

He said these words, defeated. Edward looked Mulder in the eyes. A reversal of roles. He would not give up easily. A fire returned into his own eyes. He lurched forward, knife in hand, raised high.

And he fell to the ground.

This time he did not miss.

It was the final straw.

Both had the desire for victory.

But it was Mulder who won.