Title: Eleventh Hour (Part 4) Author: Rachel Anton E-Mail: ranton1013@aol.com Rating: NC-17 See part one for summary, disclaimer, etc. September 3, 1982 Scully looked down at her plate with a heavy, nauseous feeling. It had been nearly half an hour since the waitress had set it down and she’d only managed to stomach a forkful. Mulder seemed to be faring equally poorly. They sat in the fancy restaurant in downtown Annapolis without speaking, without eating. The only movement seemed to be Mulder’s incessant fingers drumming on the table cloth. He was nervous. She could tell this much. She was something that went beyond nervous, to a place of fear and dread that she had never inhabited. Almost an entire month had gone by since she had given her body to him on that beach in Delaware. An entire month spent together laughing, making love, talking. Talking, but never about this. Never about tonight, or tomorrow, or what happened after that. They were putting it off, both of them. She realized that. Pretending that it wasn’t going to happen, that it didn’t have to happen. And deep inside, she still harbored a hope that it wouldn’t. But one look at his dismal face across the table told her otherwise. He had bad news to tell her tonight. Perhaps worse that she had feared. The waitress drifted by and looked vaguely surprised when he gestured for the check. She dropped it on the table without a word though. Obviously the dire mood between them was apparent even to a complete stranger. He dropped a pile of bills on the table and reached for her hand. Without a word he led her out into the night. They walked hand in hand, still silent, down the boardwalk for several minutes. Scully felt strangely put off by the bustle of evening activity, by the calm of the water and the pretty lights from the buildings. This was a place that usually made her happy, a place she knew was going to be ruined for her very soon. It seemed so wrong that it was the same as always, that people here were carrying on as if it were just another night, another hour. She felt like the world was about to end and she was the only person who realized it. When he stopped walking and leaned against the railing, letting go of her hand, turning to her somewhat reluctantly, she thought for sure that she heard the sky falling. “Scully...” It was all he said for a long time. She stood beside him, looking out at the water. She heard a little baby crying and it comforted her in a small way. She wasn’t alone at least. When he started talking again, it was a torrent of words, some that she heard, some that just echoed in her brain without ever settling into a logical pattern. “I have to go...” was how he started. The rest scarcely mattered to her. She listened to his careful, well thought out arguments. She was too young to have this kind of relationship, he would only end up hurting her by staying around, he would suffocate her, make it impossible for her to grow or to learn, he had no idea how much he had screwed things up by coming back here in the first place and he didn’t want to tempt fate any further, something was telling him it was time to go. As he spoke she continued to stare at the water, nodding a few times when his words rang true, clutching the rail with whitening knuckles. She felt the tears building inside her and she bit her lip to hold them back. She couldn’t, wouldn’t look at him. It would only make it worse. “Scully...” He reached for her face and she jerked away reflexively. If he touched her she was sure she would crumble into a million pieces. “We’ll see each other again Scully. I have to believe that. It’s the only hope I have in this life.” His voice cracked as he spoke and she finally looked at his face. His eyes were full of water and pain and horror. And she understood. This wasn’t his choice. Not really. He was doing what he thought was right for her, for the future, for them. She couldn’t be angry with him for this and that made the whole situation even more painful. “Do you understand Scully? Do you believe?” She wasn’t sure how to answer that. Yes she understood. She understood why he was making the choice but she didn’t understand the cruelty of fate that forced him to make it. Yes she believed that they were destined for each other but destiny had let her die once before, what would it do to them now? Yes she believed that he loved her, that he would wait for her for eternity but could she believe that their time would ever come? She nodded as she felt a cold, bitter tear fall down her face. She wasn’t about to beg. He reached between them again and stroked her cheek with his thumb, catching the moisture. “Forever Scully. I swear to God.” He leaned down to kiss her and she kissed him back with everything she had in her, everything she possessed to show him what he was to her, to show him that she too would wait, would love, forever. They kissed with a desperation and neediness that frightened her. It felt like falling into a black hole. She clutched at his jacket for support, feeling as though her legs might simply give out from under her at any moment. The salt of their tears and saliva mixed on her face and she tried to memorize the taste. When he pulled back it was like ripping duct tape off her body. His eyes were still closed and he backed away from her. “Go Scully.” “I ca...” “Go now. Please.” He still wouldn’t open his eyes. He turned his back to her completely, unable to watch her walk away from him. She stumbled backwards a few steps, unable to stop watching his shaking form. When she was several feet away from him she remembered something important and ran back. She grabbed his shoulder. “Mulder...” “Scully PLEASE!” he cried, unwilling to turn around. She pulled the tiny piece of gold from her neck and placed it in his open palm from behind him. She closed her fingers around his hand and kissed the back of his neck. “Keep this safe for me,” she whispered before turning and walking the road back to her apartment alone. xxxxx “Mulder, are you all right?” The frantic shout was almost as loud as the pounding on the bathroom door. Mulder muttered something noncommittal to make Mark go away and heaved over the toilet again. He couldn’t remember ever in his life feeling as foul, as dirty. This was wrong. It was all hideously and deeply wrong. Twisted. Who the hell had he thought he was coming back here? He hadn’t saved her, he’d only hurt her sooner. He didn’t think he would ever be able to forget her tears tonight. He’d been sobbing himself uncontrollably since she’d handed him her cross and walked away from him on that pier. Sobbing so hard that when he’d finally managed to drive himself home he’d ended up vomiting up every ounce of food in his stomach. He didn’t know what he was doing anymore. He didn’t know what in God’s name he was supposed to be doing. He thought this was the right decision but how was he supposed to know? How was he supposed to be sure when it made him feel like dying and hurt her so badly? He couldn’t live without her. How was he supposed to live without her? “How?” he asked in the empty room. “HOW?” He stood up and held the sink for support, looking at himself in the dingy mirror. There was bile dripping from his chin. There was the same darkness in his eyes that he’d seen after she’d died. “How, you stupid son of a bitch? How?” And he knew the answer. There was no way. He couldn’t do this. It was impossible. He didn’t care if he was screwing with fate, playing God, whatever. He didn’t care if every bone in his body was telling him to go, go now before he screwed things up. He didn’t care if it was bad for both of them in the long run, he needed to be with her now, while he still had the chance. He looked again at his deranged visage in the mirror. No. He couldn’t do that to her, he couldn’t stay. But he couldn’t go. He brought both his fists to the mirror and slammed into it, harder than he had intended. Shards of broken, reflective glass, stuck to his hands, crashed to the floor. He sank to the floor with them, to his knees. Blood from his hands covered his face as he weeped into them. He felt another heave building in him but he knew there was nothing left inside. He was empty. “What the hell am I supposed to DO?” he moaned to himself. He reached into his pocket and took out the memento that she had given him. Her cross. He thought back to other times, to the significance of that small piece of jewelry, to how much it meant to her and what it meant for her to give it to him. His faith had screwed them up. It had screwed them up royally. Maybe it was time to give what she believed in a fighting chance. He held the chain in his fingers, dangling the cross in front of his face and looked upwards. At least he was in the right position. “Um...I’ve never exactly done this. I mean I don’t really know...” He broke off into another choking sob. He felt ridiculous but maybe, just maybe. It was his last hope. “I just...I need her. I mean I really, really need her. And she...” he swallowed a gasp and tears stung the back of his throat. “She believes in you so I just thought maybe you could help us. I need to know...I need to be sure...I have to know that I’m doing the right thing here because if I can’t be sure then I don’t think I can do it. I need...I need a sign. Anything. I just need to know that this is the right decision. Please...” He burst into pathetic, wrenching tears, realizing how far he’d sunk. Praying to a God he didn’t really think existed like some eleventh hour convert in an exploding mine, sitting on the floor of a dirty bathroom with blood and vomit covered hands and knees. But he asked again. “Please...please...please.” And again and again. And he cried himself to sleep on the floor of that bathroom like a wounded child. ******** Mulder woke with a stiff feeling in his joints. A feeling he wasn’t used to anymore. He was hot and uncomfortable. Sticky. The bathroom. That’s where he’d fallen asleep. No wonder he was feeling so disgusting. Nothing like sleeping in your own vomit and blood on a concrete floor covered in glass to give you a rejuvenated feeling in the morning. He wondered sickly what time it was, if he had missed his flight. Maybe he had. If he had, well maybe he could take that as the sign he’d been asking for. He opened his eyes slowly. Everything was fuzzy and bright. And yellow. Like sunrise. He wasn’t on the floor. He wasn’t in the bathroom. He jerked up, startled, and next to him, a woman sighed. He wasn’t in the bathroom and he wasn’t alone. “Mmm...Mulder, go back to sleep.” He knew that voice. He would have known it anywhere. He turned to her and shook her naked back. Naked. She was naked. So was he. Little things started dawning on him slowly. This place they were, it wasn’t her apartment, it wasn’t his either. This bed they were in, it didn’t seem familiar. He wondered if maybe he’d gotten wasted last night and dragged her to a motel. “Scully. Scully wake up!” She made an irritated grunting sound and turned to face him. She turned and she...she was Scully. She was really, really Scully. The Scully he had known. The Scully who had died. She looked exactly the same as she had the last day he had seen her, the day they had had that terrible fight. “Mulder what is it? It’s too early.” He noticed a mirror hanging opposite the bed. Their bed? He looked at their reflection. He was him. Forty years old again. And she was her. Naked. In their bed. “Scully what day is it?” She rolled her eyes and turned over again. “Go to sleep Mulder.” “What year is it? Scully? What year?” “Mulder shuddup and lemme sleep. We’ve gotta go to work in a couple hours.” Work. Where did they work? What state were they in? What planet?? For a minute he was sure it had to be a dream or hallucination. Then the next minute he figured everything else that had come before had been a dream. But maybe none of it was a dream. Maybe it was all real. “Scully, I’m serious. I need to know. What...” She sat up and turned to face him fully and the blanket fell, revealing her soft, beautiful body underneath. He couldn’t finish the question. “Mulder, I’m serious too. Stop being silly and let me...” She drifted off and stared blankly down at his hand. He followed her gaze. The cross. It was the fucking cross, shining golden in the sunlight. “Mulder where...where did you find that?” She reached over and took it from him, turning it over and over in her hands. “I um...I don’t...” “Mulder I can’t believe you found that! I’ve been looking every...for years...I....” Tears started to flow down her face but this time she was smiling. This time they were tears of happiness. Suddenly she threw her arms around him, startling him. For a moment he didn’t respond because he was so gripped with confusion and uncertainty. He still didn’t know where they were, or what their lives were like, he didn’t know what had happened in the past, what he had chosen, how he had gotten here. But as he felt her arms tighten around him, as her lips began tracing sweet kisses down his neck and arms, as she whispered “I love you so much”, he realized none of that mattered much. He must have done something right because somehow, some way, he had ended up here. END! :) More ramblings from the author: Okay, that was the first idea for a fanfic that I ever had. I posted it a looong time ago as a challenge and nobody answered it as far as I know so I decided to take it on myself. It’s my first attempt at a pre-Xfiles story and I’m a teensy bit uncertain about it. Any feedback, good, bad or ugly, would be greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading folks.