Final Arrangements by Michelle Kiefer (1 of 1)Title: Final Arrangements
Author: Michelle Kiefer
Email: msk1024@aol.com
Episode: Redux II
Summary: They were signs of a life ticking away
its finite minutes.
Category: Post-ep
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Written for the Redux II episode challenge for
After_the_Fact. Other stories written by the list
member authors can be found at:
http://after-the-fact.tripod.com/
Thanks to dtg for speedy and insightful beta.
Visit my other stories at:
http://members.aol.com/msrsmut/MichelleKiefer.htm
Maintained by the wonderful Jennifer
She hadn't expected to ever return to this apartment. Tears
blurred her vision as she stood swaying in the doorway.
"Bet it feels good to be home," Mulder said. He held her
suitcase in one hand, the other at her back. She nodded,
unsure of her voice.
He'd insisted on bringing her home from the hospital, even
though her mother had offered. Scully has sensed that it was
important to him and had suggested her mother spend some time
with Bill before he had to return to California.
The apartment had a musty, long-abandoned smell to it as if
she'd been gone for months instead of days. There was a thin
film of dust on the table; her empty mug still sat beside
a week old newspaper. They were signs of a life ticking away
its finite minutes. She had been so very aware that last
morning here of how few minutes were left.
"Let's get you settled on the couch." Mulder's arm was
firmly around her waist as he set the suitcase by the end
table and guided her to the couch. He'd been so gentle,
so tender since that first morning in the hospital. But
she'd been dying then, and now she was alive. Would
these changes continue, or would the soft touches and
kisses fade like an old photograph?
She sank onto the cushions, grateful that her legs hadn't
given out yet. She hated feeling this frail, this weak.
Her knees seemed to be made of jello. Mulder stacked the
pillows behind her as she lay back. Unfolding the light
blanket from the back of the couch, he spread it over
her legs.
She was grateful for the warmth of the cotton throw.
Still painfully thin, her body couldn't seem to regulate
temperature. Mulder sat on the end of the couch and
slipped her shoes off.
"Your feet are little blocks of ice, Scully." He chafed
first one foot and then the other, trying to warm them.
"I'll get you some socks."
"Thanks. Top drawer of the small dresser by the window."
She drew the blanket up around her shoulders and shivered
a little. The sound of a drawer opening and closing
filtered from the bedroom. Seconds passed, and Mulder
did not return.
"Did you find them?" she called out. "Mulder?"
No voice greeted her, no sound but the shuffling of paper.
Her instincts had always been excellent, and they told
her now that something was wrong. She pushed the blanket
aside and rose on shaky legs to make her way to the bedroom.
"Mulder?" she asked, her voice barely audible. His face a
mask of shock, he sat on the end of the bed, a sheaf of paper
in one hand and an envelope with his name on it in the other.
"How could you?" he asked, his voice thick with tears and
anger. "I was just supposed to stumble across this?"
"Oh God." She gripped the door frame to keep herself from
falling. "I forgot about that. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
His hands shook as he held the pages before him. "You
thought of everything, Scully. 'My gray suit is
back from the cleaners. You'll find it in the closet in
a plastic bag. I don't know if they need shoes, but
my gray pumps are in the shoebox with the red lid.'
I'm impressed. You didn't miss a single detail."
"I wanted to make this as easy as possible for you and
my mother. She'd gone through this too many times.
I just...thought it would help if I organized things"
She couldn't feel her legs as she moved toward the bed.
Mulder jumped up as she approached, the papers in his
hand crinkling as his fingers clutched convulsively.
"You have everything here. Where to find your life
insurance paperwork, what hymns you want played at
the funeral, suggested pallbearers. You thought of
everything. You just forgot to tell me how sick you
were."
"There was nothing you could do." Sheer stubbornness
kept her upright.
"When did you write this?" No longer shouting, his
voice remained fierce as he waved the pages in the
air. "Was it before the meeting with Dr. Arlinsky?"
She nodded slowly. The room seemed to be growing
darker at the edges of her vision and she hoped she
wouldn't pass out.
"You let me go to the Yukon, knowing that you might be
dead before I got back. How...how could you do that?"
"Would you have stayed?" she asked. Mulder looked
down at his feet. Neither of them sure of the answer
to that question.
"You said something that night at the Smithsonian. You
said that it wasn't your last dying wish to prove that
aliens exist. That wasn't just a figure of speech, was
it?" He looked up at her, his eyes burning with emotion.
"No. No, it wasn't. I couldn't bear the look on your face
when I laid one more tragedy at your feet. So, I told
you I couldn't come with you. I just didn't tell you
why."
She stumbled and reached for the bed, collapsing back.
Mulder was at her side in an instant, worry in his eyes.
"God, Scully. I'm sorry." He knelt before her, brushing
the hair back from her face. "You're white as a sheet."
"I'll okay. I just need to lie down for a while."
Mulder pulled the covers back and helped her onto the
bed. Her trembling body embarrassed her, revealing
her weakness and effectively ending any discussion.
She hated the unfair advantage of her frailty.
"I shouldn't have upset you. You're barely an hour out
of the hospital."
He tucked the blankets up under her chin, smoothing the
sheet with nervous hands. She stopped his fussing by
taking his hands in her own.
"You were right. I wasn't honest with you at the end.
But Mulder, I wasn't honest with anyone by then. Not my
mother or my brothers. Not even with myself. I was such
a coward."
"You're the bravest person I've ever met. Scully, as
much as I demanded honesty from you, I don't think I
could have handled the truth. Life without you was
something I just couldn't face."
He stroked her hair, soothing her with his touch. Her
eyes felt heavy, her body relaxed and safe as it always
was in Mulder's presence. She felt the bed shift as
he rose, and heard the scrape of a chair being drawn
close.
Just before sleep claimed her, she felt him take her hand.
His grip felt warm and strong--her lifeline. The tiniest of
smiles played across her lips. She knew with the same
certainty that the sun would rise in the morning, he would
still be there, holding her hand when she woke.
End.