Date sent:        Tue, 22 Jul 1997 15:05:40 -0700

From:             "the *enigmatic* Dr. Scully" 

Subject:          NEW: Darkness and Light IV by Leyla Harrison



Darkness and Light IV

by Leyla Harrison







Disclaimer: Don't own 'em.  CC does.  I'll give 'em back when I'm good

and well ready to.



Classification: V, A, MSR



Rating: R for sexual activity, but nothing graphic.



Spoilers: Gethsemane, Memento Mori.



Summary for the archives: Mulder and Scully meet up again once the

struggle is over. 



I know that's cryptic.  But I can't give away the plot because it would

ruin this one.  By now everyone knows this is a series, right? So go

read the first three. For all of you who still hate me for what I did in

part 3, here's where you get over it.  



This will be the last story in the series - in this series, anyhow. 

Thank you to everyone who supported these pieces and supported me by

extension.  I'm sorry you all had to wait so long for this part, but

real life intruded.  You know how that goes.



Don't forget: feedback.  Please.  



One last important thing.  Angels *do* exist.  I should know.  I have

one in my life.



******



Darkness is the first thing I am aware of.



I'm alone.  Alone when I thought Mulder was beside me.  Alone and in the

dark.



Is this what death is?  Standing alone, cold, in the darkness?



I realize that I *am* cold.  My fingers are like ice and my teeth have

begun to chatter.  I clench my jaw tightly to try to keep the noise down

in the silence of wherever it is that I am.  



What the hell am I wearing, anyhow?



A robe.



Good God.



It's my white terrycloth robe, the one I've had for years.  The one I

keep on the back of my bathroom door.  I pull the lapels closer

together, trying to keep warm.



This robe is good for that, which is why I've had it for so long.  



Why the hell am I wearing my robe if I'm dead?  It must not really be

mine - just a robe that looks very much like mine  Except...



Except for the fact that the edge of the right pocket of this robe is

ripped - just a tiny rip, but a rip nonetheless - in the same place

where mine is ripped.  I ripped mine when I caught the pocket on the

edge of the table and got up too quickly.



I almost laugh out loud.  Well.  Imagine that.  You get to take your

robe with you when you die.  Who would have thought it?



I finger the edge of the ripped pocket lightly and hesitantly take a

step forward to reach out in front of me, trying to feel around for

something, anything.  The cold is gone but the darkness is rendering me

still and cautious.



My hands rest upon something hard and cold.  I touch it, running my

hands over it, trying to determine exactly what it is.



Longer than both my arms outstretched.  About as high as my waist. 

Smooth surface.



A table?



A desk.



Light from out of nowhere falls on me, warming me immediately.  It feels

like a bright summer sun, and I relax tense muscles I didn't realize I

had been holding so stiff.



With the light I can now see that it is a desk in front of me.  A brand

new desk, from the looks of it.



I'm in the office, in the basement.  



Another surprise.  He finally got me a desk.  A desk from Mulder.



Wherever the hell he is, anyhow.



"I'm right here, Scully."



I turn and he is there in the light with me, a lopsided grin on his

face.  



"So what are you trying to tell me, Mulder?  That we have to work the

X-Files even from the grave?" I joke with him, and his smile grows

wider.  



He doesn't answer, though; instead he comes to me and pulls me into his

arms.



For the first time since he has been gone I can feel him completely

against me, full and warm.  He feels closer than he has ever felt to me

before.   



I relax against him and close my eyes.



A sense of utter peace washes over me as Mulder floods me with

everything that he feels, everything that he is.  It doesn't frighten

me.  Instead it soothes me.



He releases me after a time, not completely though, and kisses me.  I

don't protest or start in his arms, I simply let him kiss me and I kiss

him in return.  His lips on mine are warm and soft.  It is so unfamiliar

and yet it is as if I have kissed him before many times.  I feel his

body press against mine and feel his arousal, his need.



I chuckle softly at the thought of making love to Mulder here in this

quasi-office when it's clear to me that we are both dead.



He releases my mouth, barely.  He is still close enough that I can feel

his breath hot on my lips.  "What is it?" he asks, and I tell him.



"We're making out like teenagers and we're dead, Mulder.  Isn't there a

rule against that?"



"What do you think, we're in heaven or something?" he asks me.



"I don't know," I confess.  "Is this heaven or hell?"



"Neither."



He kisses me again, this time more urgently, his tongue seeking entry

into my mouth and sweeping across my teeth and the roof of my mouth.  I

press myself against him. 



God, if I had only known that all it would take to get Mulder to kiss me

like this was to die...



He pulls his mouth from mine, suddenly, harshly.  I groan involuntarily

at the loss of him.   "Don't think that, Scully."



His voice is angry.  Bitter.



"Mulder--"



"I never wanted this.  Never wanted you to die."



"Mulder," I soothe him, stroking my hands over his shoulders, amazed at

how easy it is.  "I know that.  I do."



He falls into my arms, his head against my breast, and I hold him, as if

he is a wounded child. 



Mulder is a wounded child.  His life has left him broken and wounded. 

Even in death he is still wounded.  My heart breaks for him.



I pull him closer.



"Scully," he whispers against my heart.



"I know, Mulder," I say, not really knowing, but trying to calm him

anyhow.



He lifts his head and looks up at me.  "I never meant for anything to

happen to you."  I start to interrupt him but he places a finger over my

lips and silences me.  "Let me tell you this.  Let me get this out. 

OK?"  I nod, and he takes a deep breath before continuing.  "I feel --

I've always felt as if your illness was my fault.  That you got sick

because of your devotion to the X-Files.  To the search for the truth. 

It was *my* search, Scully.  Mine.  I got you involved.  And it was my

fault that you were taken."



I can't stay silent.  I push his hand away from my mouth.  "Mulder, it

wasn't your fault.  You take the blame for everything, Mulder.  For me. 

For your father.  For Melissa.  And for Samantha."



His eyes grow moist.  "Let me finish," he murmurs, and I let him.



"When I came into that hospital and you were looking at that x-ray of

the tumor, I looked at it and at you and thought to myself that from

that moment forward I was going to do everything I could to try to save

you.  Even though..." his voice trails off to a whisper, "...I knew deep

down that I couldn't."



"Oh, Mulder," I sigh softly.



Silent tears, just a few of them, have sprung to his eyes.



"And I've had to deal with that, Scully.  I've had to accept that I

couldn't save you."



My own eyes fill with tears unexpectedly.  "Why did you take your own

life?"



"I just couldn't take it anymore," he answers simply, and I nod my head

at him, understanding, and yet not understanding the burden of guilt

that this man has lived with for most of his life.



Under any other circumstances I wouldn't accept this answer, but I know

that he cannot explain his actions any more than this, and so it is

enough of an explanation.



"You know that I love you," he then says to me. "Don't you know that,

Scully?"



"Yes," I nod.  "I know.  I've always known.  I was just so hurt--"



"Never again, Scully.  I will never hurt you again."



His words are a vow, a promise, an oath.  I know he will never go back

on that.  And I nod at him.



"So now we're in some weird in between place?" I ask, looking around the

office.



"We're in whatever place you think we are," he responds, gracing me with

a rare Mulder smile.



I raise an eyebrow at him.  



"To you, it's the office.  Because you feel safe there.  Because we're

together there."



"I can think of a hundred other places where I feel safe, Mulder," I

tell him chuckling, and he nods.  



"I know," he says.  "But this was the first place you saw me."



I think about that for a moment. He's right.  It was the day of my first

treatment.  I had seen him bathed in a pool of white light, alive and

well.  Or so I had thought.  "Where are we in your mind?"



"To me," he tells me, somewhat bashfully, "we're at your apartment."



"My apartment?" I ask, surprised.



"I've always felt so good when I was there with you, Scully.  As if I

was home.  Really at home."



I take him in my arms again, touched that he would feel that way, and

amazed that he never told me.  He presses his face into my neck.  I feel

his heart beating against my chest.  



"So can we see the people who are still alive?" I ask, wondering

suddenly about my mother, about how she must be handling my death.  



"No, Scully," comes his muffled answer.  "We can't see them.  But we can

communicate with them.  Much like I communicated with you.  Only with

you it was more vivid between you and I because of the love we have for

each other.  You can communicate with your mother, but it's won't be

like getting a visitation from a ghost.  She'll feel your presence

there.  She'll know."



"And people who have gone on before us..."  The lump in my throat

prevents me from saying anything further.



"You'll be with your father and Melissa," he answers me, and a cry

breaks forth from my lips.  "I've already seen them."



His hands wrap around my back and he holds me, gentle yet secure, as I

weep with the knowledge that I am going to be able to have that second

chance after all, the chance to tell my father everything I wanted to

say, the chance to apologize to Melissa, the chance to make it all

right.



My tears slowly subside and Mulder lifts his head and kisses my eyes, my

cheeks.  



"The best thing about all of this, Scully, is that we can be together. 

Always.  I'll always be with you."



I smile at him.  "That's what I wanted all along, Mulder.  I wanted you

to find the answers you were seeking, but I always wanted to be with you

when you got them."



"I know that now," he responds.  "I just was too blind to see it most of

the time."



"Typical male," I tease him, and he kisses me then, a slow, gentle kiss,

exploring my mouth, letting his hands roam slowly over my body.  I am

alive from his touch, every nerve taut and ready.  He finds the sash of

my robe and loosens it.  "Mulder," I gasp, putting my hands over his,

stopping him.



"What?" he asks, looking up at me with hazel eyes filled with fear.



"I'm..." I trail off, trying to determine why I have stopped him. 

There's no reason for me to deny him this.  There's no reason for me to

deny to myself that I want this as much as he does.



"Scully?"



"I love you," I finally whisper, and he kisses me again.  I release his

hands and he unties the robe, letting it fall from my body.



And then we are both naked, holding each other skin to skin, in a way I

have only dreamed about, in a way that makes my fantasies pale in

comparison.  Mulder's hands are smoothing over my skin and I am

sighing.  His fingertips trail over me like fire.



I reach for his body and pull him close to me, guiding him into me,

helping to create a union that has been inevitable from the beginning.  



And in the release, I hear him say my name, I hear it on that last

tortured cry that comes from his lips, and I know, with a sense of joy,

that it will be the only anguished sound I will ever hear from Mulder

again.  



His emptiness has been filled, and he in turn has filled me - with

himself, with his hopes, with his beliefs, and with his love.



END

-- 

the *enigmatic* Dr. Scully

http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Vault/1377

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"An unexamined life is not worth living." --Socrates

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"...let me surround you...my sea to your shore...

 let me be the calm you seek..." --Sarah McLachlan

    Source: geocities.com/Area51/Labyrinth/1495/fanfic

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