For several hours, Fox Mulder had done nothing but sit on his worn leather couch and contemplate his future. Now, just after two a.m., he had come to a decision. In his hand he held his pistol, he could feel the cool, comforting weight pressing against his palm. The only thing left to do was leave a note for Scully.

Standing, he heard several joints crack, a result of sitting in the same position so long. Crossing over to his desk, he found a sheet of paper and a pen and returned to the couch. For endless minutes he merely looked at the paper, unsure of what he wanted to write. How did he put into words the feelings flowing through his mind and heart?

Taking a deep breath to steady his hand, he picked up the pen and began to write.

Scully,

I know that you will be angry with me,
but please don't be. I need you to understand.
The time has come for me to bow out of the
charade I've been living. And through that,
you will find an escape, as well. I never told
you about meeting Samantha while you were
in the hospital that last time and again just this
week. She wanted nothing to do with me, and
it forced me to take a look at my life and its
path. Now, you're safe and healthy. And my
self-inflicted responsibilities are complete, I think
I'm lost without them. The pain of losing her
after so many years is great, but the idea of
being the cause of even more of your pain in
the future is great. I'm sorry to find
myself taking the cowards way out, but we'll
both be better off in the end. Nothing short of
death will stop the pain.

Love, Mulder

By the end, there was nothing he could do to keep his hand from shaking. Glancing back over what he had written, he was surprised to find tear marks staining the words and blurring the letters. Raising his hand to his face, he felt the wet trails the tears had left on his face, even though he had been unaware of their passage.

He again looked at the clock, the glowing red numbers read 2:47. Putting the letter to Scully over on the desk where it wouldn't be messed up, he picked up the gun from the coffee table and sat down. Few last doubts flickered across his mind, the final debate about what he was willing to do. Within seconds, the silence of the cold winter night was shattered by the echo of a gun blast.

*****

Scully tossed in her bed, unable to sleep. Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was almost two in the morning. Unable to fall back asleep, she pushed the covers away and went into the kitchen to get a glass of water.

Sitting at the kitchen table, Scully tried to remember what had caused her to wake up in the first place. She could only remember a fast fading dream she had been having just before waking up. Rubbing her eyes, she sighed, deciding she would probably never know what the dream had been about. Scully continued to drink her water, rather drowsily when the contents of the dream hit her.

Her head shot up from where it was resting on her palm, suddenly wide awake. "Mulder!" She cried out her partner's name before she had time to think. Images flashed across her mind. Mulder sitting on his couch, tears on his face and a gun in his hand. Instantly terrified, she ran into the bedroom and quickly changed clothes. She grabbed her cell phone and keys as she ran out the door, barely remembering to lock it behind her.

Scully paid no attention to the speed limit as she sped between her apartment and where Mulder lived in Arlington. She couldn't explain the stark terror that surged though her because of her dream, all she knew what that it was imperative she act on it. Pushing the accelerator to the floor, she continued to race toward his apartment.

When she pulled up into the parking lot in front of Mulder's apartment building, she was relieved to see that his light was on. For anyone else, this would be reason to worry, but for Mulder it was somewhat routine. She half ran half jogged the distance between her car and the building, and upon entering the building chose the stairs over the elevator.

She had just pushed the stairwell door open and stepped into the hall when she heard the noisy concussion of a gun shot. Running down the hall, she instinctively pulled out her key to Mulder's apartment. Reaching the door, she fumbled with the key momentarily, finally managing to open the uncooperative door.

She wasn't sure exactly what she was expecting to see when she pushed open the door, but it wasn't what she found herself faced with. Gun in hand, Mulder looked to be reclining on the couch. Her eyes searched for the blood she knew should be there. Only there wasn't any.

Mulder, somewhat in a daze, finally processed that he wasn't dead, and that someone was in his apartment. Not just any someone. Scully. Shaking his head to clear it, he glanced between the petite form of his partner, and the remnants of the lamp that sat at the end of the couch.

Mulder managed to ground himself well enough to ask, "Scully? What are you doing here?"

"What am I . . ." Closing the door behind her, Scully walked over to stand in front of him. "Mulder, what in the hell did you think you were doing?" The look he gave her in response was the closest she had ever seen him come to looking sheepish. "Mulder?"

"Can't a guy just shoot a lamp in peace, Scully?" He went for humor, but when her demeanor didn't soften, he relented. "I don't know Scully. For a while it just seemed like the right thing to do."

"Shooting yourself?"

Shaking his head wearily, Mulder placed the gun down on the coffee table and moved to the side so that Scully could sit down. "It wasn't like that, Scully."

Taking the offered seat, Scully placed her hand on Mulder's arm. "Then talk to me. Tell me what it was. You've been acting distant for days now. What's happened?" Her manner had shifted from panic, to anger and had finally landed on concern. All in less than two minutes.

Mulder took a shaky breath. He was still uncertain what had kept him from doing what he had planned, much less how to put everything into words. For an instant his gaze fell onto the letter that was lying on the computer desk. He suddenly realized how cold and cruel that letter would have been to Scully. Rubbing his eyes absent-mindedly with one hand, he stalled another moment before speaking.

"Mulder? Come on, talk to me. It sounds like you've lost your bearings," she prompted softly.

Looking into her eyes, he managed to speak. "Maybe I have, Scully." He sighed, then continued, "I never told you about Samantha did I?"

"You found her?"

Mulder nodded sadly. "You were still sick. When I told you about Cancerman offering me a deal, part of the enticement was seeing her. She ran, wanted nothing to do with me."

Scully found herself being filled with sympathy for the shattered man that sat before her. She couldn't help but think he looked lost and alone. A little boy in a vast, savage world. "Why didn't you tell me?" Her voice didn't reach above a whisper.

"I couldn't. When it first happened, you were so sick. And then later, I just wanted to forget about it. What mattered was that you were well. But then I ran into her again this week. She all but ran in the other direction."

Scully fought the urge to be hurt by his admission. "So, the only answer you could find to losing that quest was to kill yourself?" She paused, wincing at the pained look that filled his features. "What about me, Mulder?"

She was unprepared for the emotion that filled the tear-brimmed hazel eyes when they jerked to meet hers. "You? This was for you too, Scully. Don't you see?"

Fighting the tears that sought to fill her own eyes, she blinked forcefully before replying. "For me? See what, Mulder? My best friend sprawled dead in his living room?"

"No!" He jumped up and began to pace. "If I'd gone through with it. You'd be safe, Scully. You'd be healthy and you could have a normal life. Without mutants and little green men and all the Donnie Phasters of the world. Sam doesn't need me anymore, and you wouldn't either."

Standing to face him and halt his restless pacing, Scully laughed softly. "As you often say, they're little gray men, Mulder. And my life may not be normal, and I may not like every consequence that comes of the choices I make. But they are my choices to make. Including having you in my life. Including choosing you for a best friend."

"Scully . . ."

"Don't Scully me, Mulder. I'm right and you know it." She punctuated her last two words with light taps to his chest. When he didn't respond, and began avoiding her eyes, she asked, "Mulder?"

"I hear you, Scully." He pulled her into a hug, his chin resting on the top of her head. "I hear you," he repeated, his voice not quite a whisper.

Relishing in the familiar sound of Mulder's heartbeat beneath her ear, Scully smiled at his words. "You know what else, Mulder?"

Not relinquishing his hold, he responded, "Hummm?"

"I'll always need you, Mulder. You're my other half." Pulling back from the warm embrace, she looked up into his eyes, seeing the tears he was struggling to hide. When an errant tear escaped his efforts to not cry, she brushed it away from his cheek with her thumb. "Okay?"

He nodded, and leaned to kiss her on the forehead. "What did I ever do to deserve you?"

Scully laughed, "I don't know, just wait till you get my bill."

"Doctors!" Mulder laughed in response, tossing his hands into the air. "I swear you're all alike."

Scully sat back down on the couch, "Lucky you, huh?"

"Yeah, lucky me." Mulder smiled, lighting up his eyes. Looking into her eyes, more seriously this time, he added, "Thank you. For everything."

"Part of the job. Are you going to be okay now?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I think so. Wait, you never said what brought you over here at three a.m., Agent Scully."

Scully blushed slightly, well aware that she was going to have to explain following her dream. Always one to dive right in, she hesitated then answered his question. "I had a dream."

"A dream?" Mulder asked, sitting down next to her. "Do tell."

Scully laughed. "You're not going to believe this . . ."

By the time either agent knew it, pink was tinging the sky outside. Neither of them had moved from the couch, having spent the rest of the night talking.

"Scully?" Mulder asked, when she finally stood to leave.

Turning to face him, she looked up at Mulder. "Yes?" "It's nice to have a best friend." His eyes were soft, his voice a husky whisper. "I've never had one before."

Scully's smile brightened, she felt honored. "Nothing to it, partner." Pausing, she added with a laugh, "Without you, my life would be so dull."

fin