Impossible Choices 4
Ally112038@aol.com 

12:13p.m.

I fight against the darkness that consumes me. I am aware of gentle hands against my face, stroking softly as my eyes flutter open. For just a second I allow myself to imagine that the touch is Mulder's. That the voice I hear, drawing me once again into consciousness belongs to him.

"Mulder?"

I blink rapidly, struggling against the hands that are now restraining me firmly, refusing to let me rise up in to sitting position.

"Ssssshhhhhh Scully. It's okay. Don't try to move."

Not Mulder's that voice.

I am disorientated for a few seconds, unable or unwilling to understand why I am laying here on the hard, cold wooden floor. More confused still by the sight of my superior's hovering face me as he kneels beside me. And then I inhale deeply, feeling my throat close up as the lingering scent of acrid smoke invades my senses. *Him*.

Despite Skinner's restraining hand I struggle in to a sitting position, glancing wildly around the room. A room that now appears empty.

"Where is he?" I demand. I'm not surprised by Skinner's response.

"He's gone. He left a little over five minutes ago. He siad he would contact you this evening......to further discuss.......to discuss......"

He falters then and I can clearly recognise the strain in his voice. The tears that linger dangerously close to the surface pushing their way through his normally strong facade.

"I'm sorry Scully. I'm so sorry......"

I allow him to help me to my feet. Not because I want his help but because I know that I would never make it up there by myself. Finally, I face him accusingly.

"You knew? All this time you knew?"

His eyes widen with horror as my accusation sinks in and he involuntarily backs up a couple of steps. Widening the gap between us until it seems as wide as a ravine. I watch as he gropes for the right words. Does he really believe that mere *words* can make this right?

"In the beginning. I admit I knew in the beginning why you were paired with Mulder......" He gesticulates helplessly, his hands waving in the air as he implores me to believe him.

"....but I never knew the reasons *why*. I swear to you Scully. I swear I never knew about *this.*........"

I am in no mood to listen to him though. My head is still pounding and that, coupled with a spreading feeling of nausea has left me feeling used up and vulnerable. I don't want to hear his pathetic excuses. I only need one thing from him now.

"Give me your keys."

"What?"

I take a step towards him, extending my hand in front of me, palm up.

"I said give me your keys."

"Scully *please*. You're in no condition to drive. Let me help you......."

There is such hopeless yearning in his voice that I almost falter. I *believe* him you see. I believe that just like me, he has been played in all this. And maybe one day, I will draw from deep inside myself and forgive him. But that day isn't here yet. Right now I can barely even bring myself to look at him.

"You want to *help* me?" I laugh then. the sound ringing hollowly in my ears. "I think *sir* that you've helped me enough. Now give me your keys."

His eyes take on a peculiar sheen as they become moistened with unshed tears. But in his defence he is big enough not to allow them to spill over. And for that I silently thank him, because I know that I couldn't bear to see him weep again. He's shed enough tears to last him a lifetime. We all have. He doesn't speak again. He simply reaches in to his jacket pocket and removes the keys, dropping them in to my outstretched hand without ever meeting my eyes. I, in turn, close my hand around them, feeling the jagged edges of metal digging in to my palm. I welcome the pain. It reminds me I am still alive.

"*Thank you*"

Without another word I spin around and head for the door, trying in vain to ignore the sound of Skinner's harsh breathing as he tries in vain to hold on to his composure. He doesn't follow me though. He wouldn't dare.

My cel phone begins to trill even before I have completely exited the apartment. I hardly need to even answer it. I already know what the news will be. But, I go through the motions, depressing the send button as I continue along the corridor towards the elevator.

"Scully."

"Dana honey.....it's Mom. Where are you sweetie? I tried you at home but there was no answer...."

"It's okay mom. I'm on my way back to the hospital now. Is there something wrong?"

I ask this redundant question out of a need to play by the rules. But as my mother's joyful voice crackles across the airwaves I am filled with despair. It has invaded every corner of my being. All consuming in it's ferocity as I close my eyes against her words. Knowing that the news she sends me is a cruel deception.

<To let you know what you have been missing all these months>

"Dana? Dana honey? Did you hear what I said?"

I snap back in to the here and now.

"Sorry mom, you broke up back then. Say again?"

She is laughing now.

"Oh Dana! It's Fox...he's awake....and he's asking for you."

"I'll be right there mom."

I look at the phone held in my hand, clenched tightly enough to whiten my knuckles as though it alone is to blame for all this, and suddenly, the fury builds in me. Boils up to the surface, refusing to be suppressed any longer.

There is a splintering crash as I hurl the phone against the door of one of Mulder's neighbors. Small pieces of black plastic fly through the air as the phone disintegrates with the force of my anger. But it feels good. So damn good to destroy as we have been destroyed. I half expect someone to appear in the hallway in response to the sudden noise. But it remains empty. It's the middle of the day after all. There is no reason for anyone to hear the effects of my fury. Nonetheless, I am conscious that to be confronted now would mean more delay. I can't afford delays now.

Not now that Mulder is waiting for me. Not when I have no idea as to how long.

**********

Georgetown Memorial Hospital 12:56p.m.

I don't know really how I managed to get here in one piece. I have no recollection whatsoever of the drive over here. Thankfully, some inane sense of preservation must have taken over, because I made the trip without mishap.

I am almost afraid to be here. To see Mulder, to share precious time with him, only to have him taken away from me again is almost impossible to bear. But I *am* here. I hear the sound of my footsteps reverberating around the corridor as I make my way to his room and they comfort me in some small way.

I have decided, subconsciously on the way over here, that I can't tell him of what I have learned. To burden him with this is both unfair and essentially futile. Of course, there is a small voice inside of me that reminds me constantly that the real reason I refuse to share this with him is that I am afraid of what he will say. Deep down I know that he will choose the life of his child over his own. The choice, that for me seems an impossible one, will become starkly simplistic to him. To him there will be no choice to make. And I am afraid that he will persuade me. As he has persuaded me of so many things in the past.

I pause outside his door. Breathing deeply as I attempt to arrange my features in to an expression of calm serenity. Preparing myself to face him. To lie to him as we have been lied to so many times before. I hate myself for it. For what I am to keep from him.

But finally, I am able to push open the final barrier that separates us, stepping over the threshold until I am standing in the brightness of the room. Sunlight streams through the open blinds, glaringly bright. But I have no trouble seeing him. It takes the tinniest fraction of a second for our eyes to find each other, locking together with such intensity it takes my breath away. He looks so pale, so thin, so frail as he watches me from across the room. He is slightly raised on the bed. Not sitting up exactly, but not laid flat like he was earlier. It allows me to see his face. To evaluate what I see there and my eyes fill with tears as I see the wonder in his face.

<The baby>

Of course. He doesn't know about the baby. In all the confusion of the day I haven't given his duplicity a second thought.

My mother, who is currently keeping a vigil by his bedside, rises suddenly, bending slightly toward the man beside her as she touches his arm gently. She murmurs something to him that, from my position across the room I can't make out. But Mulder tears his eyes from mine for just a fraction of a second to acknowledge her words before turning them back to me.

I feel my Mother's hand on my shoulder as she squeezes gently on her way out. Leaving us alone to make this most precious of reunions with no distraction. No onlookers.

And then finally he speaks. His voice reaching me like a sweet summer breeze.

"Scully."

Just hearing it, that same voice that has tortured me through long, lonely, desperate nights, allows me to finally move across to him. I am unaware of the journey. Unaware of anything until I feel his arms around me. Embracing me fiercely as he holds me against him as I half stand, half kneel beside the bed. We don't speak. Not for the longest time. It's enough for me to listen to the sound of his heartbeat against mine. To inhale the familiar scent of him that, despite his time here, the hospital has not managed to completely eradicate. Nothing exists for me now except him. I never fully realised how incomplete I was without him until he was taken from me. Never realised that without him by my side I am only half a person. A pathetic excuse for a Human being. And I shudder as the full weight of my choice hits me once again. It pierces my heart, invades my very core, because how can I choose? How can I live without him?

The thought is chased away for a minute as Mulder pushes me away from him, cupping my face tenderly in his two hands until our faces are level, inches apart. He slowly brings me back towards him and presses his lips to mine, hesitantly almost, then more urgent and I gasp as snakes out his tongue to trace a line across them. Opening my mouth to allow him access I relish the feel of him inside my mouth as we finally become one again.

It is so excruciatingly painful I could scream. To be allowed this one glimpse of what I have - of what could be between us, stops my very heart beating. I actually feel it cease in it's steady rhythm, and I know Mulder feels it too, because he pulls his mouth from mine, kissing his way up my face before drawing me on to the bed beside him. I am turned slightly away from him, at an angle that now makes it impossible for him to see my face and for that I am thankful, because I feel his palm press against my belly as he feels his child within.

"I didn't believe them Scully. I'm sorry. I should have believed."

His voice is so full of childlike wonderment that I can't hold on to the tears any longer, and I lace my fingers over his as he holds me against him. I feel his other hand reach up to cup my head, resting it against his shoulder as I curl myself in to him. he buries his face in my hair and I feel his breathe against me, warm and soft as he whispers soft words. Comforting words.

"Ssssshhhhh Scully. It's okay. Everything's gonna be okay."

His words though, instead of comforting me, only cause to intensify my pain. Because I know that nothing will ever be okay again. To hear his voice, to feel his touch against my skin is like torture. Because I know that whatever happens, we will never be the same again. How could we be?

So I don't answer him. I simply bury my head further in to him, shaking it slightly as I do so.

<You don't understand. Oh God Mulder, how can I choose?>

"It's all right Scully. It's okay. there are other ways."

My eyes fly open at his whispered assurance. Did I speak the words aloud? Did I allow myself to voice my fears despite my promises to myself? I already know the answer though. It goes against everything I believe in, but I realise suddenly that the words did indeed remain unspoken. I twist around to face him, drinking in the image of him before me, frowning as a tiny smile graces the edges of his beautiful mouth.

"There are other ways Scully." He repeats as he brings my hand, still entwined with his, slowly upwards until it rests at the back of his neck. My fingers come to rest on the tiny, ridge of puckered tissue. Just the tiniest bump beneath. I know what lurks beneath it. A chip. No doubt identical to my own. Controlling him. Controlling and cataloguing his every thought and feeling. His every action. Just as it controls mine.

A ticking time bomb that can never be diffused.

But what he is suggesting is unthinkable. To remove it would bring about a death sentence on him. A slow, lingering, painful death. I know. Oh yeah. I *know*.

I shake my head.

"Mulder no. We'll find another way......"

He continues to smile even as he runs a finger down my cheek.

"Do you trust me Scully?"

I don't answer him. I don't need to. He already knows.

"Then you have to trust me on this. I've seen things. I understand now where I didn't before....and whatever they say to you, whatever they try to do, you have to *trust* me......"

His eyes are beginning to droop slightly and my heart twists painfully as I realise that our time together is short. He realises it too I think, because his words become faster, laced with an urgency I recognise so well.

"You have to remove them Scully. You have to remove *both* of them........."

"But......"

"No. I know what you're thinking. But you're wrong. You can save us Scully....you can save all three of us."

He presses his hand once more to my belly, and I feel my baby kick, as though he is responding to the feel of his father. An invisible connection already established. Flesh and blood. Mulder's son.

He is becoming heavy in my arms, slipping towards sleep again, slipping away from me and I have to lean in close to catch his final words.

"Go to Skinner. He knows what to do........trust him Scully. trust him as you trust me......."

tears slip down my cheeks as once more, he closes his eyes. They roll unchecked down my face, crossing to Mulder's pale skin where they glisten softly in the light. He is heavy. So heavy and I am not sure for how much longer I can remain here, holding him in my arms. But before I lay him down I press my lips to his, feeling the cool softness of him as I murmur my assurance to him.

"I trust you Mulder. I'll always trust you."

Finally, I lay him against the pillow again. Allowing myself the luxury of watching him before I get shakily to my feet. I know what to do now. The choice has been made. Mulder has made my choice.

I only pray it is the *right* one.

Next

Feedback

Home