Author's Notes: I am obviously in a rut, or just depressed *g* 'cause Mulder and Scully keep paying for it. Oh well! :) And, as always, I am a friendshipper folks. Then again, relationshippers might see some MSR in here, but I don't, and it's not intended that way. Either way I hope you like it!

Disclaimer: Strike up the band, it's time for the disclaimer dance! Mulder, Scully and Skinner are property of FOX Television, 1013 Productions, Chris Carter, and probably a bunch of other people. And I am nothing if not a poor college kid with tuition to pay, with no money for a court case so don't get any ideas all of you suit types.

His heart ached. There was no other way to describe the oppressive emptiness that had made a home inside his chest. Sadness, guilt, grief these were emotions that Fox Mulder was accustomed to dealing within his life. Then why all of a sudden, was the only emotion that came from inside that of misery? The source was simple, he was completely and utterly alone. He hated being alone, but it was always being forced upon him by forces unseen it seemed.

The cause of his new found solitude was more complex. However, if he would admit it to himself, he knew the answer was simple enough. Scully. After her sudden remission from cancer, everything seemed as if it would only get better and better. Yet, only a year later, he found himself living in a world where that openness and mutual understanding had evaporated. Looking back over the last few months, he couldn't see any singular event to sour their relationship. It just had gone wrong somehow.

Mulder was left to question where he was to turn, now that the final door of hope and acceptance was gone from his life. For the day before Special Agent Dana Scully had resigned from the X-Files division. He had been doing his best to ignore the problems developing between himself and Scully, but he knew they existed. Still, the blow of her resignation was of such force that it drove him to his knees emotionally.

Sitting in his dusky apartment, Mulder sat as a broken man. Neither he nor Scully had called the other since she had informed him of her transfer to Quantico. He feared that if he was to hear her voice, the final straw would break inside of him. He didn't know if he had the strength to carry on without his rock. What were the X-Files without Scully? Hell, he thought, what am I without her? Somewhere deep down he knew that he was simply a half trying in vain to complete the whole.

That weekend saw Mulder hardly leave the couch. Occasionally, tears would cascade down his cheeks from hazel eyes that had known too much pain. Sobs echoed from his chest, betraying the ache he feared would never leave his wounded heart. Monday eventually came, and ever faithful, Mulder went to work in his suddenly oversized office. Every creak and crack found him looking to the doorway, hoping beyond hope that the sight of his estranged ex-partner would meet his gaze. But she never came.

Life after those few days was a mere existence for Mulder. If asked, he could tell you everything that happened to him; but there was no life in the recollection. Hazel eyes once alive and full of emotion and intellect were void of light and life. Mulder stopped caring, his solve rate was almost as high as before Scully had transferred, however the way he worked led to more rumors for the spooky rumor mill.

When you don't care, you become reckless. Someone had said that, and Skinner had made a point to mention it to Mulder on every occasion possible. The A.D. was becoming more and more concerned for the state of one of his best agents. Operating on his own, the once solitary Mulder was like a half trying in vain to complete the whole without all of the parts. Skinner could see the hell being alone was causing Mulder. Still, he had to respect Scully's decision to transfer, no matter what he personally thought of it.

It had been a couple of months after Scully had left that the inevitable happened. The probability of Mulder being injured in the line of duty had been upgraded from probable to near 100 percent when Scully had left him. An agent who had always been one to act first and think later, Mulder began taking chances. The truth, one which he actually knew, was that he didn't care if he lived or died. He didn't see what he had to live for in the long run.

A team of agents had been attempting to serve a warrant on a suspect when they had been ambushed. The information had apparently been leaked and the suspect had managed to plan a trap. The two agents in the lead had gone down, one killed instantly by a bullet to the head. The other, Mulder, had taken one round to the right upper arm and one to the right thigh, almost a twin to the previous scar during the Boggs case.

It had taken several minutes for the agents to secure the building. During that time, Mulder had struggled to stay conscious, but he was losing blood quickly. He was being prepped to be moved to the hospital when Skinner appeared by his side. The senior agent had to lean over to catch the faint whisper that left Mulder's lips.

"Scully . . ." was all he managed to say before unconsciousness claimed him.

Skinner followed the ambulance, en route he retrieved his cell phone from the glove box and dialed his office number, directing Kimberly to forward his call through to Scully's office at Quantico. Disappointment filled his features when there was no answer at her office, save the voice mail.

Mulder went directly into surgery upon arrival at the hospital. Although the wounds were in less sensitive areas, the damage had been extensive, especially the blood loss. In the meantime, Skinner had nothing to do but wait. Wait and continue to try and reach Scully. He called every five minutes, less even a few times. His persistence was rewarded when he finally heard a familiar voice answer.

"Scully?"

He cleared his throat, this was a chore he could gladly live without. "Agent Scully, this is A.D. Skinner." He hadn't spoken to the agent formerly under his command since she had come to request reassignment. And he wasn't surprised when she immediately knew something was wrong.

"Sir? If you're calling, that means. Oh, God, what's happened to Mulder?" Worry and tension lined her voice.

Frowning, he replied, "Scully, I think you need to come to the hospital as soon as possible."

The next thing Walter Skinner knew, a petite red-headed tornado was tearing through the ER. Scully was demanding to know Mulder's status, and if she could see him. Skinner found it hard to believe that she had requested to leave Mulder so long ago, yet here she was running to his side at the first sign of trouble. He rubbed his eyes, I may never understand those two.

"Scully, Dana." Skinner said softly. "The doctor is supposed to come out and talk to me whenever they finish in surgery." Over the next several minutes, Skinner filled her in on the present situation and gave her sketchy detail on what had led up to it. Scully's complection turned ashen as she listened to his description of a Mulder that was a stranger to her.

The doctor finally emerged with the news that it didn't look good. He had lost a great amount of blood before he was found, and there was extensive bone, muscle and nerve damage. Against the doctors advice, Scully convinced him to let her in to see her former partner.

She was holding her breath as she entered the semi-silent ICU room which Mulder was in. The beep of the heart monitor assured her that he was still alive, no matter how bad he looked lying there. Crossing to stand by his side, she gently took his hand in her own, using her free hand to softly brush the ever-present hair away from his forehead. The scene felt so familiar to Scully, yet it was different this time. What Skinner had told her about how Mulder had changed scared her. She feared he wouldn't want to live, even if he might survive.

Time seemed to slow as she sat in a chair pulled up close to the bed, still holding his hand. She talked to him, nonsense mostly, so that he would know that she was there. When his eyes fluttered open, she thought she was imagining things.

"Mulder? Hey." As his hazel eyes settled on her blue ones, relief washed over her features, but doubt filled his.

"Scully?" he rasped. She gave him a couple of the ice chips he was always complaining about so that he could talk easier.

A smile still on her face she replied, "Yeah. How you feeling?"

He took a deeper breath, and pain filled his face. After a moment he looked at her again. "Not too good. But, I've felt worse. What are you doing here?"

Guilt washed across her eyes, and she quickly glanced away from him. "You need me, I won't leave you, I should have never left you. But I'm back now." It was amazing what almost losing him was doing to her opinion of herself and her choices. She reflected how, at the time, she couldn't take it anymore. Any of it. She had to get away, from Mulder, from the X-Files. Sitting beside him in a sterile hospital room, she realized how incomplete her life had been without him.

She was startled out of her reverie by Mulder's audible gasp of pain and several monitors screeching at once. Panic was evident on her face, and she scrambled to find a nurse, even though logic said they were on the way.

"Scully?" He managed, and she had to strain to hear him. Looking in her eyes, he continued. "No matter what happened, you were always my best friend." His words were slurred, and the commotion of the doctors and nurses were making it hard to hear, but she understood every word he said. Tears had begun to fill her eyes when she heard his final words. "I always loved you, Scully. Don't forget that."

Amidst the chaos that surrounded Mulder, Scully stood rooted to her spot. When she saw that his eyes close she found the ability to speak. "And I'll always love you, too." The team worked valiantly to save Mulder's life, but failed in the end. Finally left alone with the now lifeless body, Scully's tears flowed freely. She cried for the future she had lost, and the past few months which she had given up. Most of all, she cried for her best friend, without whom she was a half trying in vain to complete the whole without all of the parts.

Skinner found her, sobs racking her small frame, still standing beside the sheet-covered body. He pulled her to him, and just let her cry. Because he knew that even the strongest among us must cry, and she was no exception whether she wanted to admit it or not.

Over the next few days, and the funeral that followed, Scully was strong. She mourned the loss of her best friend, but had cried her tears in the hours following his death. She knew he had forgiven her for her lack of faith, in him and them, that she had shown by transferring. In the end, she worked with Skinner to maintain the X-Files, and she worked on them both for herself, and in honor of a man who had taught her some of the most important lessons in life.

She found the strength to carry on, because even in death, she felt as if Mulder was always by her side.

fin

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