Disclaimer: Someone else owns the X Files and its characters. I only own my dreams.
A/N ... we all make choices in life ... some are great and some just suck (even though they sounded like a good idea at the time).
Chapter 4
Scully was unusually quiet on the flight from DC to Dubuque, Iowa. Mulder tried to engage her in conversation but after the fifth curt answer he gave up. Left to his thoughts he reflected on the day's events.
Their flight was scheduled to leave BWI at 2:31 eastern. It was a six hour flight, including a two hour layover in Chicago. He and Scully had left the office at 10:00, shortly after receiving their orders from Kersh. Mulder had offered to drive to the airport, and Scully agreed which felt like ole times between them. On his way home to pack, Diana had called and invited him to lunch at her apartment.
Every fiber of his being told him to say no, but temptation overruled. There was something about her that was so alluring to him, tempting him like a delicacy. Their real relationship was long over, but the chemistry still ran hot in his blood. Diana knew how to bring it out of him simply by calling his name, arousing his memories.
As she did on the Gibson Praise case, sitting in the back of the conference room unannounced and then strategically agreeing with his theory, catching him off guard. 'Like minds' as she called it. He told her that he had moved on, with his personal life and the X-Files, and he tried to leave it that way whenever she contacted him. Today, however, he had succumbed to her pressure. Scully's relationship with Cramer seemed to be heating up, leaving Mulder more out in the cold.
He went to her apartment under the pretense of just having lunch, and before he knew it they were rolling between the sheets. In reflection, the brief moment of ecstasy meant nothing more than sex to him, a stolen moment on the clock, a lustful indulgence. The rendezvous made him late for the airport and caused him to call Scully with an excuse why he had to drive separately. The consequences of which was the cold shoulder treatment she had been giving him during this flight.
"Excuse me sir, you'll need to put your seatbacks up for landing," called the flight attendant from the aisle. Mulder stirred in his seat and realized Scully had fallen asleep on his shoulder and magnetically intertwined her fingers around his.
"Scully," he whispered softly in her ear and gently squeezed her hand.
"Huh," she mumbled opening her eyes. "Where, … ah… sorry, I forgot where I was for a second."
He looked over at her and locked eyes for a moment. Smiling at her he replied, "I can tell by the drool spot."
"Sorry," she smirked and grabbed her computer bag from under the seat looking for a handi-wipe. "I just get so comfortable around you Mulder. I forget that we aren't laying on the couch together."
Mulder smiled and felt the rush of passion for her tingle in his spine. His feelings for Scully were intense, nothing like the urges he had for Diana. He needed to stop thinking like that; however. The days of the two of them laying on the couch watching a movie or TV were gone. Scully had made her intentions in her current relationship clear to everyone.
They picked up their rental car and Mulder loaded their bags in the trunk as Scully mulled over the directions and the map that Driscoll had emailed them earlier that day. Scully climbed into the driver's seat throwing her computer bag in the back. Mulder didn't argue her decision to pilot the car, despite knowing she hated driving in winter weather.
"Where are we going again?" He asked.
"According to Driscoll's email Galena, IL. It appears to be about a half hour drive."
"Home of Ulysses S Grant," Mulder volunteered for no particular reason. Scully stared at him with a scowl on her face. "What?" he asked chuckling slightly.
"It amazes me that you know meaningless trivia about every place we travel. Why is that Mulder?"
"I read Scully, instead of getting caught up in those TV shows that you are hooked on, I read and expand my knowledge," he replied and gave her a cheesy smile. He climbed into the passenger seat, clicked the seat belt and shut the door. He was doing a lot of reading these days since he had lost his pal.
Scully shook her head in frustration at her partner and reached for the ignition switch. There were no keys in the ignition. She frantically looked around the seat and padded her pockets for a second. "Shit," she mumbled under her breath.
"What? What's wrong?" he asked her quickly concerned.
"I can't find the keys," she replied, still riffling through her pockets, then reaching into the backseat for her computer bag.
He started patting his own pockets. "Where did you have them last?" He un-clicked the seatbelt and stepped out of the vehicle. He looked back at the trunk and retraced his steps quickly in his mind.
The lid was already open when the rental agency dropped them at the car, so they couldn't have been in the trunk. In fact, he didn't remember that either of them had the keys, which meant they never got them at the counter or they were still in the … He was jolted from his thoughts as the engine flared to life.
He tilted his head down and peered inside the car. Scully was sitting in the driver's seat with a mischievous grin on her face.
"Ha, I had you," she chuckled.
He looked at her face, lit up with energy. God, she is beautiful, he thought to himself. He sat back in the car and shook his head.
"You did not have me; I knew the keys were still in the console the whole the time. I was just playing along."
"Mulder, you are lying. I totally had you that time," she laughed heartily and put the car in gear.
He nodded and let her win. Times like these were precious and he didn't want to let them go.
On the trip from Dubuque to Galena, they reviewed the case notes together, discussing the possibilities, arguing their various view points. It started to sleet and the road quickly became slick. Approximately 15 minutes into the drive, Scully turned from the state highway onto a two lane county road.
She had stopped talking and began to concentrate on her driving, silently cursing herself for insisting on taking the wheel. Mulder was much better at handling the car in these conditions. She was used to crappy winter weather, living in D.C, but that didn't mean she had to drive it in, that was the benefit of public transportation.
Her lack of concentration on the road caused the car to drift to the right, dropping one wheel off the pavement. The vehicle began to slide sideways and she pulled to the left to correct, swerving over the yellow line, into oncoming traffic. Mulder sat up quickly and reached for the steering wheel to help straighten it out as Scully hit the brakes. An oncoming truck flicked the brights on her and she put her hand up, shielding her eyes from the glare.
"Geezus," she muttered under her breath as she struggled to control the vehicle. Her heart was pounding in her throat, her hands shaking on the wheel. In a second it was over, just as quickly as it had begun.
"Are you ok?" Mulder asked her with his voice thick with concern. He put his hand on her shoulder and gently patted her arm.
The gesture was comforting to her. "I hate driving in weather," she replied abruptly, her eyes glued to the road, knuckles turning white on the wheel.
"You're doing fine," he reassured her looking at the map again. "We should be there shortly, just go slow. We're not in a rush." He caught a glance at a passing roadside and looked at the map again. A stinking feeling washed over him as he realized they were on the wrong road. He scanned the map quickly to determine how they would get back on track.
Mulder reached over and turned the radio down so there wasn't any additional distraction. As he did so, he noticed Scully fiddling with the rear-view mirror and noticed a glare of headlights behind them.
"Aghh, the car behind us has his brights on," Scully grimaced and tried to flip the mirror so the lights weren't blinding her.
Mulder turned around in his seat and noticed the vehicle closing the distance behind them rather quickly. Within seconds the vehicle was on their bumper and weaving all over the back of their car. Mulder could tell it was a truck, as the headlights sat considerably higher than their trunk lid.
He was about to tell Scully to pull to the side and let it pass, when the truck rammed into the back of their car, shoving them forward. Scully screamed and frantically tried to gain control of the wheel as the car slid sideways down the road. The truck hit them again and then moved to pass on the left side.
"Scully, just pull over …." The truck side-slammed them and matched their speed. Mulder felt the car speed up and noticed signs indicating a bend in the road was approaching.
As both vehicles entered the turn, the truck came over into their lane one final time and forced the Crown Marquis rental off the road. The speed the vehicle was traveling launched the sedan air-born over the ditch, and then rolled it onto its left side. The car slid down a short embankment for approximately 60 feet and then dropped off an over-hang and plummeted 40 feet to the frozen water of a quarry pond below.
The accident occurred in less than thirty seconds, yet inside the car, time seemed to be standing still. Mulder looked at Scully, her face ashen and wrecked with emotion as she gripped the wheel to regain control. He could feel the impact as the vehicle turned on its side; hear the metal straining under the force, the velocity carrying it forward to the final resting place.
He was nailed in his place by the seatbelt, securely attached to the chair. Scully had connected violently with the steering wheel and remained motionless at his side. He noticed blood trickling down her face, pooling on her lip. The sound of the crash roared loudly in his ear like a freight train and then as suddenly as it began, there was silence. The car appeared weightless and flew quietly through the dark of the night.
As Mulder stared forward and made peace with his demons, he quickly prepared himself for the consequences of the end. As his life flashed before him he only had two regrets, never finding his sister and not verbalizing his true feelings for his partner. The intimate touch their shared, the gentle kisses on the forehead, all paled in comparison of his saying or her hearing the actual words.
He reached out for her as the car plunged forward. Then with a thunderous explosion, the vehicle crashed into the frozen surface of the pond. The impact through the thick ice propelled the occupants forward only to be cradled by the airbags as they deployed from their compartments.
Mulder stirred in his seat as the vehicle sank, the icy water rushing inside shocking his reflexes. He unclipped the seatbelt and struggled to open his door, the twisted metal unforgiving. After a few attempts he gave up and climbed over the seat to back of the vehicle instead. He found an air pocket and gasped for a breath while reaching for Scully's computer bag, then riffled through it looking for the safety hammer she carried.
He palmed the hammer, taking one final breath in the air pocket and then climbed over the seat to the front of the vehicle. He fell forward on the dash as the vehicle made its 90 degree decent to the bottom of the pond. Mulder broke the window quickly and then went to work on Scully's seatbelt as the icy water filled the remaining air space in the compartment. When the latch failed to release on her belt, Mulder cut the belt with the razor mechanism on the hammer and pulled his partner toward him. Once she was free of the steering wheel, he crawled through the window with Scully's weightless body in tow and made the ascension to the surface.
Mulder broke the surface of the pond as his lungs screamed for air, burning to release the carbon dioxide building inside of them. He sucked in the frigid air of the night and pulled Scully close to him. He knew she wasn't breathing and turned her head toward his in an attempt to administer rescue breathing. He blew a puff of air into her mouth, past her cold lips and shook her in an attempt to revive her.
"Scully breathe," he yelled, praying for some God-like intervention. As the icy water numbed his fingers, he forced another breath into her lungs, hoping the icy water would slow her body functions enough to save her.
Mulder scanned his surroundings quickly as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Most of the ice on water's surface was broken and floating in chunks. He spotted a rocky shoreline to his right and began to swim in that direction. His movements were hampered by the weight of his trench coat and the loss of feeling in his extremities. Once he reached the shoreline and pulled Scully from the water, he stripped off his coat and began CPR.
"Breathe Scully, breathe," he pleaded with her as tears ran down his face. "Dammit," he mumbled aloud reflecting on how for the second time in less than a year he was performing CPR to save her life.
He was on the second set of compressions when she started to cough up water. "You're ok," he said relieved that she was breathing on her own. He rolled Scully on her side and rubbed her back. "Keep coughing, you need to get the water out."
"Mulder," she gasped as she gagged on the fluid running out of her mouth.
"It's ok," he repeated reassuringly, running his hand over her hair. He used the sleeve of his overcoat to wipe the vomit and mucus from her face.
After a few moments, when she seemed calmer he pulled her into his chest in an attempt to retain whatever warmth their two bodies could share. The frigid air of the night was stinging his lungs and causing him to tremble uncontrollably, but he couldn't think about that. He scanned the quarry and plotted the escape route he would use to get help.
Minutes later he saw the flash of red lights on the quarry wall. He called out to the emergency workers standing on the cliff above. His memory of the events from this point was clouded, a blur of lights, medical personnel and law enforcement arriving on the scene, the warmth of the ambulance enveloping him. In the back of his mind, he barely remembered sirens and the jerky movement of the ambulance pulling away en-route to the hospital.
TBC.
A/N The accident is all mine, retold from my memory of thatfateful night ... my advice to everyone ... Safety Hammers, $19.95 at Ace Hardware. The dorkiest gift my dad ever gave me, but the one item that had the hugest impact on my ability to write this story.
