Title: With or Without You part 1 of 2 (part 1a)
Author: Invisigoth421
Email: invisigoth421@hotmail.com
Distribution: OK to gossamer, Xemplary, ATXC, all others ask me first
Spoilers: Duane Barry, Ascension, possibly "3"
Rating: R
Classification: A
Keywords: Mulder/Scully UST
Summary: What if Scully had not been returned in "One Breath"? Even 10
years later Mulder feels as though he can't live without her. But
what would it do to his life if she returned 10 years later?
Disclaimer Haiku:
Mulder and Scully
They do not belong to me
They belong to Fox
Additional Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Fox and George Lucas. (DUH!!!) -
With or Without You belongs to U2. And yes, I am a raving U2 freak as well
as an
X-Files freak and I wrote most of this while listening to U2, explaining the
incessant U2
quotes. :-) this fic is also first in a series of stories I'm writing where
I've stolen the titles
from U2 songs.
Author's Notes: as far as this story is concerned, none of the episodes
after "Ascension"
happened. Therefore, Mulder's father and Scully's sister are still alive
and the X-Files
were never re-opened.
XxXXxxXXXxxxXXXXxxxxXXXXXxxxxx
See the Stone set in your eyes
See the thorn twist in your side
I'll wait for you
Sleight of hand and twist of fate
On a bed of nails she makes me wait
And I wait... without you
With or without you
I can't live
With or without you
--- U2 - "With or Without You"
Saturday, February 23, 2002
The photograph had been taken the summer before her disappearance.
In her smiling brown eyes, there was no trace of a premonition of what was
to come. Her
brown hair was tied in two braided pigtails and she grinned down at the
photographer
happily, innocently, as if nothing in the world could harm her.
An 8 year old girl who didn't know that in mere months, she would be taken
away from
her family and everything she knew, never to be seen again.
That had been 30 years ago.
The memories had grown faint. The pain of loss was softer than it had been
even 10 years
ago. And though her older brother, who sat gazing at her photo now, had
tried everything
in his power to find her, he had eventually given up.
Perhaps it had been lack of resources, lack of ability.
Lack of passion?
He sat there now, behind his desk, holding his sister's photo in his shaking
hands and
wondering if she might be here with him now... if he would have continued
his search, had
everything not been ripped out from underneath him.
He had kept this photo on his desk for years. It had been with him in his
first years at the
FBI academy. It had been with him during his time in the behavioral sciences
unit. It had
been with him during his years on the X-Files. And now that he inhabited
this desk, doing
the most boring of FBI jobs, it remained with him.
He still missed her sometimes. He still felt the occasional pang of regret
that he had not
pursued, not tried harder to find her.
But in reality, in the way he saw it now.. .he was here and she was gone.
Samantha was gone.
Or perhaps that was not it at all. Perhaps it was his passion that was gone.
Fox Mulder turned the picture frame over in his hands and undid the clasps
that held the
cardboard backing in place. He slid the backing out and pulled out the
contents of the
frame.
Nobody but Mulder had ever laid eyes on the small photo that was hidden
behind his
sister's picture. He had taken it on assignment one day, while photographing
a crime
scene.
The sky had been particularly beautiful that day, and so had his partner.
She stared up at him from the photo, her red hair glistening in the
sunlight, staring at him
in that slightly cynical, slightly amused manner he had come to associate
with her. She had
thought him silly for taking the picture. He had used it as an excuse simply
to have a
picture of her.
Who could have known it would be the last time anyone would take her
picture?
It had been so long since he had looked at it. It had lain there, hidden
behind his sister's
photo like a dark secret.
In reality, perhaps it *was* a dark secret.
He smiled and caressed the picture as though doing so might bring it to
life, might bring
the smiling face back into the world of the living. But in that photo, she
was safe. She was
frozen in time, as though nothing and no one could touch her.
But something had.
His name had been Duane Barry. A repeat victim of what he called "alien
abduction". The
abductions had turned out to be real - though by what force Mulder had never
determined
- and Duane Barry had sought never to experience them again.
He had sent her, the woman in the photo, in his place.
Duane Barry had never found out if his replacement had worked. He had died
too soon
afterward. For that he was lucky, for if he hadn't died, Mulder was certain
he would have
killed Barry.
The anger he felt toward Barry... that had dwindled too.
But the feeling of emptiness, of loss, lingered.
Even after 10 years.
She had been his conscience. His confidant. His partner. His best friend,
his counterpart,
and his shoulder to lean on when things were rough. She had been everything
to him
Everything.
Scully.
And he had never told her.
Would it have been so hard, he asked himself?
Just once? "Scully, I love you."
The words came easily now as he spoke them to the inanimate photo.
Why hadn't they come easily when he had known her?
Perhaps he had just assumed he had all the time in the world.
Most days the pain was tolerable. In the back of his mind, as he watched his
children play
or spent time with his wife.
But on the bad days, it was there like an aggravated sore.
Today was the worst of all.
Today was Dana Scully's birthday
He reached over and picked up the photo of Samantha again and held them both
in his
hands.
Smiling 8 year old girl. Smiling, beautiful 28 year old woman.
The two most important women in the world to him.
Both gone.
Both of them would have been the same age this year.
Samantha had been 8 years old when she had vanished. Scully had been 28.
This year would see them both turning 38.
Almost 40 years old.
So much of their lives had been stolen from them....If they still lived.
Or had they been dead all of these years?
The hardest part of all of this was not knowing. Any knowledge, Mulder
supposed, would
be better than this agony of not knowing at all.
"Agent Mulder?"
Mulder looked up, startled, and turned in the direction of the voice. He
felt like a child
who had been caught doing something bad.
Relief flushed through him when he saw that it was only Skinner, looking
down at the
younger agent over the rims of his glasses.
Skinner.
For that, at least, Mulder was glad.
Skinner would understand.
He was the one thing that had remained constant in Mulder's work, not only
as his boss
but as his friend.
"Is everything all right?" Skinner asked, noting Mulder's dejected posture
and his
obviousness to all around him. He was engrossed in the two photos in his
hands, and
Skinner knew exactly what the photos were.
The sad demeanor, however, was not unusual for Mulder these days.
Skinner often said that he could count on one hand the number of times
Mulder had smiled
in the last ten years.
But perhaps that was an exaggeration. Mulder had a lovely wife and two
beautiful
daughters. He had his health. He still had a good, if somewhat less
rewarding, job. He still
had things to smile about.
But it was obvious most of the time how much the loss of his sister, and of
Scully, still
affected him. It had scarred him deeply.
"Fine, Sir," Mulder said, trying to put the photos away nonchalantly. "Its..
..just that it's...
her birthday today, sir."
"Agent Scully's birthday?" Skinner asked, seeing Mulder wince at the mention
of her
name.
Mulder nodded. He was on the verge of tears.
He felt Skinner's hand clap him reassuringly on the shoulder.
"Go home, Mulder," Skinner said. "You don't need to be working on a Saturday
anyway."
Go home?
Mulder sat behind the wheel of his car, in the darkness of the parkade below
the FBI
building, pondering Skinner's words.
Go home.
There had been nothing but good intentions in that offer. Mulder couldn't
have refused.
But going home right now would be the stupidest thing he could do.
Carol was at home, and Mulder was far too upset.
She would ask what was wrong as soon as he was in the door.
He would make up an excuse. She wouldn't buy it. She would dig deeper,
trying to get
him to confess his dilemma.
Most of the time, when this ritual was played out, he would end up telling
her.
But he couldn't tell her. Not this time.
She would push until he got fed up, and then he would end up storming out of
the house.
Best not to go home at all.
Mulder paused in his thoughts and listened for a moment to the silence
around him. It was
broken only by the occasional echo of footsteps, and the soft thrum of a car
engine
starting.
He looked at his watch. It was 2:30
He had told her he'd be home by 3:00. It wasn't usual for him to work on a
Saturday, but
he had had a lot of things to catch up on.
Or perhaps he had just known that being home today wasn't a good idea.
What *would* Carol say if he did decide to tell her?
"Sweetheart... love of my life... I never told you this, but 10 years ago I
worked with a
woman named Dana Scully. She was my best friend, the only person I
trusted...and oh
yeah, I was in love with her. Did I mention that? Anyway, today is her
birthday and it's
brought back all those old feelings. I miss her terribly. And sometimes I
think I still love
her. You understand, don't you honey? This doesn't mean I don't love you..."
She would understand. Sure she would.
Mulder almost laughed out loud at the thought.
She would probably smack him in the face and storm out of the house.
Carol had a temper. She was jealous when Mulder talked to other women. She
would
never speak to him again if he told her what was going through his head
today.
Scully.
Her name leaped out of empty space and into his mind without warning.
Scully.
He missed her so much.
Fox Mulder rested his head against the steering wheel of his car and wept.
Would she notice?
Mulder inspected his face in the rear-view mirror as he sat anxiously in the
driveway of his
home.
His eyes were slightly puffy, his cheeks a little bit blotchy and red.
He had sat in the FBI parking lot and cried for what seemed like hours.
It was out of his system, at least for now.
Carol was home. Her car sat in the driveway next to where he had parked his.
And if she noticed he had been crying... Well, she would most definitely
ask. And he knew
where things would go from there.
Where were the eyedrops when you needed them?
Mulder took a deep breath and unbuckled his seatbelt.
Into the lion's den. There was really nothing else he could do.
Mulder opened the door as inconspicuously as possible, trying not to be
noticed, but
trying not to make it look like he was trying not to be noticed.
The house was quiet.
Mulder looked at his watch. 3:00.
"Hello?" He called., forgetting his stealth. His house was never quiet on
weekends.
there was no answer.
Mulder approached the foot of the staircase and craned his neck upward.
"Carol?" He called again.
He heard a muffled reply from somewhere upstairs.
Of course.
A closer listen proved his theory. He could hear water running. She was in
the bath tub.
But where were Sam and Kathy?
At friends' houses most likely.
Mulder breathed a sigh of relief and quelled the urge to collapse on the
couch right then
and there.
He had to go say hi to Carol.
"You're home early," Carol said, her voice muffled through the closed
bathroom door.
Mulder tried the doorknob. It was locked.
No surprise. Carol had always locked all the doors when she bathed at home
alone, ever
since that day 3 years ago when their house had been broken into. She was
always the
cautious one. She didn't want to be caught vulnerable and off guard.
"Want me to let you in?" She called, and he heard water splash as if she
meant to get out
of the bath.
"No," Mulder replied, not too hastily, he hoped. "I'm bagged. I'm going to
go lie down.
Just wanted to let you know I was home."
"OK," Carol replied, settling back down.
"Where are the girls?" Mulder asked. They had to be at friends houses. Carol
would never
leave them unattended.
"They're both at friends houses,"
Of course.
" It's sleep over night, Fox. We've got the house to ourselves," there was
suggestive
laughter in her voice.
Just what I *don't* need right now, Mulder thought, feeling like an
insensitive jerk as he
thought it.
Carol was a wonderful woman, despite her temper and occasional jealous
moments. She
would have to wonderful be to put up with him, and he was not ignorant to
that fact.
He had not exactly been the easiest person to be around, but he and Carol
had met each
other by chance at a time when both of them had been terribly lonely. They
had filled a
void for each other, and each of them understood that. Their children - now
7 and 5 - had
gone farther to fill that void.
But he had never told Carol about Scully.
She didn't even know about his work on the X-Files. As far as she knew, he
had been
working at his boring FBI desk job forever.
It was a terrible thing to do - to keep that sort of thing from your wife -
but Mulder could
not tell her.
He had tried, on occasion, but failed.
It was all he had left to hold inside.
And he wanted to keep his memories of Scully all to himself.
"Fox?" He heard his wife call, bringing him out of his thoughts. He realized
he was still
standing outside the bathroom door and had not said anything for what seemed
like at
least 5 minutes.
"Are you OK?" she asked.
"Sorry," he said, trying to laugh. "I'm too tired to think, sweetie. I'm
going to go lie
down."
Mulder wandered downstairs, into the living room, and collapsed on the
couch.
"Mulder?"
The name reverberated across the empty air. With it came floods of
memories... memories
of times now more than 10 years past.
Nobody called him "Mulder" like that anymore.
To Carol he was "Fox".
To Sam and Kathy he was "Daddy".
To his co workers, and to skinner, he was "Agent Mulder".
Only one person had really called him "Mulder" like that, making it sound
like an
affectionate pet name rather than his slightly unusual last name.
"Mulder?"
He was standing on a hilltop, high above the city. Above him, the stars
twinkled in the
clear night sky. Below him, the city lights gleamed, looking like another
sky full of
brighter, more powerful stars.
Sky above and below him.
And in front of him stood Dana Scully.
She looked the same as he had always remembered her. She wore her simple,
conservative
"Scully suit" and the beige trench coat she had been wearing when she had
disappeared.
Her hair was red like fire, light from the full moon glinting off it and
making it shine.
She was holding her arms out to him, as if trying to reach out, trying to
clutch at him.
"Mulder," She said again as he approached. This time it was a statement, not
a question.
There was relief in her voice. He moved closer to him, looking into her eyes
for a sign of
approval, or a sign that she was happy to see him.
He was met, rather suddenly, with cold disdain.
"How could you do it, Mulder?" Scully cried, as though she had been
beckoning him to
her simply to chew him out. Tricking him.
Mulder found himself unable to reply. Unable to speak. How could he do what?
"How could you give up?" She chided him again. "You had more passion than
anyone I
knew. Why did you give up on Samantha? On the Truth? On Me?"
"Scully..." Mulder heard himself stammer in a voice that was entirely unlike
his own. "I
was lost without you."
It sounded like so much fluffy crap. Stuff from a harlequin romance.
"That's crap," Scully said, echoing his thoughts. Her lip rose in a sneer
that frightened him.
"You were scared," She said "Scared that you actually *Might* find the
truth. So you
gave up!"
"I missed you Scully..." He cried, his voice breaking. "I missed you so much
.. Nothing
seemed worth it anymore."
"You were scared," She said again, as if she hadn't heard him 'That the
truth might be too
much for you to handle."
"Scully I..."
"So you left me... and your sister... to them..."
Suddenly the sky was ablaze.
The light came from above, from the previously tranquil night sky. It was
blinding, so
unbelievably blinding, that Mulder found himself paralyzed by its
brilliance.
It began to envelop Scully.
And Mulder was helpless.
Just as he had been that night on Skyland mountain.
He tried to go to her, but was prevented.
Prevented by fear?
Something more?
"Scully!" He heard himself cry.
"Don't let them take me again Mulder," She said, her voice distant and
emotionless.
Mulder tried to call her name again, but found that he could not speak.
The light surrounded him; encompassed him, became so total and so blinding
that all of his
senses were overcome by it.
And then it vanished altogether.
Mulder was once again alone on the hilltop.
And Scully was gone.
From: "Erika -Invisigoth421-"
With or Without you, part 1 of 2 (part 1b)
See part 1a for disclaimer, rating, summary, etc...
------
"Fox?"
Ohthankgoditwasonlyadream.... Mulder thought in relief as the words drifted
down to him
from above... from the real world of his living room.
Mulder opened his sleep-heavy eyes to see a short, beautiful red-haired
woman standing
over him.
He jumped, and then realized with some relief that it was his wife.
For a moment, she had looked just like Scully.
And then it hit Mulder all at once.
She *did* look like Scully.
He had married a woman who looked like she could have been Dana Scully's
sister.
And he had been so ignorant to it that it had taken him eight years of
marriage to open his
eyes to it.
It was bad enough that he had wanted to name their youngest daughter Kathy.
Katherine.
*Dana Katherine Scully*
He had told Carol he simply liked the name Kathy. She had been reluctant,
since he had
already picked the name for their first daughter. It was a given that he
would name any
daughter of his after his sister, and Carol had wanted to name their second
girl after her
mother.
But like a jerk, he had persisted in naming their second daughter Katherine.
After Scully.
Dana, after all, would have been too obvious.
And he had never even told Carol about Scully.
Mulder suddenly felt sick.
"Fox?" Carol said again, sitting down on the side of the couch. She placed a
hand - warm
from the bath she had just taken - on his forehead. "You look pale. Are you
feeling all
right?"
Mulder swallowed nervously and mustered a weak smile.
"Bad dream," He said, hoping his words sounded casual and offhanded.
"About what?" She asked, concern and curiosity in her eyes. Her deep,
striking blue eyes.
Scully's eyes. Oh god.
"Oh, something stupid,'" Mulder lied, trying not to clench his teeth. "I
hardly even
remember now."
Thankfully, Carol smiled and didn't press the issue. She touched the back of
her hand to
his forehead and then bent down to kiss him on the cheek.
"You've been working too hard," She said. "Why don't I go get a pizza and
rent us some
videos?"
Mulder nodded, hating himself for wanting her to go and do just that... just
so he could be
alone for a while.
*You're a jerk, Fox, he told himself. You were a jerk to Scully and now
you're a jerk to
Carol. At least you're not a jerk to your kids, you selfish bastard.*
"Ok," Carol said, smiling affectionately and making Mulder hate himself
more. "I'll be
back in a while," she kissed his cheek again and stood up, heading for the
kitchen.
She grabbed her purse, her coat, slipped on her shoes, and headed to the
door. Mulder, his
eyes closed, saw her do none of this. He had become so accustomed to her
routine that
the mere sounds told him what she was doing.
"What movie do you want?" She asked from the doorway.
"Something violent," Mulder said, hoping he would sound like he was joking.
Apparently
she did. He heard a soft chuckle come from her direction.
"OK, See you in a bit," She called.
"yeah," Mulder replied, wishing he could say something kind, something
loving, before she
left. No words would come.
He was a mess.
A complete, emotional mess.
How could the simple fact that it was Scully's birthday affect him so?
She had had other birthdays. He had lived through them - given her a few
moments'
thought, perhaps a few tears. If he had time, he had visited the memorial
plaque Margaret
Scully had had placed in a nearby cemetery. Even Scully's family had given
up. To them,
she was dead.
To the world, she was dead. She had been missing long enough for her death
certificate to
be issued.
And here he was, 10 years later, completely traumatized by her loss.
Why was this happening? Did his body really have that strong of a concept of
time?
Was there something special about a 10th anniversary?
*what would you do if she came back?*
The question popped into his head, unwanted. He had avoided that question at
all costs
for the past 7 years.... since he had met Carol.
He loved her. Missed her. Felt sometimes as though he could not live without
her.
But if she came back ,everything he knew would be turned upside down.
Mulder sighed. Nothing was ever simple.
And he had long ago given up hope that she would come back.
An Tie fighter screeched across the TV screen.
The Millennium Falcon followed it, firing at it again and again and finally
blowing it up, as
Han Solo and Luke Skywalker cheered.
Carol cheered along with them, smiling. She had brought home the entire Star
Wars
Trilogy - her favourite movie, - and was determined to watch the whole thing
with him
tonight.
For Mulder, it proved to be enough of a distraction from thoughts of Scully
for him to
kick back, relax, and watch, one arm around Carol and the other in a bowl of
popcorn.
He liked to see Carol happy.
It made him feel like less of a jerk. For the time being, at least.
"We did it!" Luke Skywalker called across the Falcon to his friend.
"Great kid! Don't get cocky!" Carol echoed Han Solo's words, laughter in her
voice.
They had discussed nothing when Carol had arrived home with the pizza and
videos. They
had simply popped the movie in the VCR, devoured their pizza, and watched.
She loved this movie so much she had become oblivious to her husband's
otherworldly
mood. For that, too, Mulder was glad.
And after all, Star Wars was a great movie.
The distraction was wonderful.
But Mulder couldn't shake the thoughts of what he had done from his head.
Had he missed Scully so much that he had found a woman who looked just like
her...
without realizing it? How could he have been so blind?
But at least he had Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, and the ever-beautiful
Princess Leia to
distract him. That was enough for now. Perhaps these feelings would pass by
morning,
and everything would be back to normal.
Midway through Return of the Jedi, the phone rang.
Mulder glanced at Carol, frowned, and then looked at his watch.
It was after 11 PM.
11:21, to be exact.
"Who's calling us so late?" carol asked, her voice anxious and concerned,
and for good
reason. Granted, it was Saturday night, but even so, most phone calls at
this late hour
connotated something bad.
Someone was in trouble. Someone was drunk. Something was wrong at work.
Or someone was dead.
None of them were appealing options at all.
As Mulder and his wife pondered this, the phone continued to ring.
Finally, Carol god up and ran to it, grabbing it just before the answering
machine picked it
up.
She breathed a cautious "hello", paused, and then turned to Mulder.
"it's for you," she said.
Now Mulder was even more intrigued.
"Who is it?" He mouthed as he got up.
Carol shrugged, but her demeanor suggested she was more than a little bit
interested in
who was calling her husband at this hour.
She handed the phone to Mulder and stepped back, keeping her eyes fixed on
him, arms
crossed, waiting for him to give her some indication of who it was.
It wasn't Skinner, Mulder thought. Carol would know is voice, and he would
have said
hello to her.
Would it be either of his parents? No, they too would have acknowledged
Carol. Then
who?
The Lone gunmen?
He hadn't heard from them in ages.
Mulder's heart was beating furiously in anticipation as he mouthed a
tentative "hello" into
the receiver. His mouth felt dry.
"Mr. Fox Mulder?" an unfamiliar voice said on the other end.
"Yes," Mulder replied. What was going on? What was a stranger doing calling
him at this
hour?
When he was working on the X-Files it could have been anyone.
But after 10 years.... did anyone even remember him anymore?
"This is Dr. Boden from the DC General Hospital," The voice continued.
Mulder's heart leaped. The hospital. Oh god. Someone was dead, or hurt. Some
family
member. Some member of *his* family. What if his father had had a heart
attack?
"What happened?" He asked. The words sounded distant, as if they had not
come from his
own lips.
"I'm very sorry to bother you this late, Mr. Mulder, " Dr. Boden continued"
but I have a
rather unusual situation on my hands."
Mulder said nothing. HE waited in anticipatory silence for Dr. Boden to tell
him what was
happening.
"We had a Jane Doe dropped off anonymously at the hospital several days ago.
She had
no ID... her fingerprints aren't on record, and she's in a severe catatonic
state. We didn't
know who she was, or what to do with her."
Interesting...
"What's this got to do with me?" Mulder asked. Again his voice didn't feel
like his own.
He was floating on cloud somewhere, several feet away from his body.
"Just a few hours ago, she said your last name. You're the only Mulder we
could locate,
and it's the first lead we've had on her since she showed up. You must
understand, we
can't proceed with treatment or anything until we know who she is. And we
would like to
contact her family."
Mulder felt his stomach slide into his throat.
Jane Doe. No ID.
She had said his name.
My god... Mulder thought... was it....
No. Don't think about it, he told himself. Don't even hope until you know
for sure.
For all you know, Mulder, it could be some weirdo who worked on a case with
you. Or
some girl you met once who just happened to remember your name because it
was weird.
But what if... just for a moment, he could hope that it was Scully... or
Samantha?
"I was wondering," The doctor continued, barely audible to Mulder over his
reeling
thoughts "If you would come down to the hospital and see if you can identify
her."
"I can do that," The distant voice that sounded like his own replied.
"I know this is highly unusual," Dr. Boden repeated, "are you in the
position to know,
offhand, who this woman might be? A family member of yours..."
"No sir," Mulder replied. "Not that I know of. "But I'll come down and have
a look.
When?"
"Now?" The doctor asked hopefully. "I realize how late it is, Mr. Mulder,
but her
condition is serious and we would like to put a name to the face before we
proceed."
No insurance, Mulder thought to himself, though the doctor was doing all he
could to
avoid saying that.
'I'll be right down," Mulder replied, and hung up without another word.
"What is it?" Carol asked the moment the phone had been hung up.
Mulder decided to come clean. No point in deceiving his poor wife any
further.
"The hospital," he said. "They've got a catatonic, unidentified patient
who's apparently
been saying my name. They want me to see if I can identify her. "
Carol's eyes widened. Her mind was deducing all sorts of things.. he could
see it in her
eyes.
"Do you know who it is?"
Mulder shook his head, though in his mind he could come up with a lot of
options.
"I don't know," he said out loud. "I..." he knew what Carol was thinking.
Someone from a
case - someone from the FBI.... or an old friend, perhaps. An old
girlfriend? God forbid.
After all, she knew nothing of Scully. And to her, Samantha was simply
Mulder's baby
sister who had disappeared - as some children do- when she was eight. It
would never
occur to her.
But it occurred to Mulder.
Too many things occurred to Mulder.
He put them out of his mind, gathered his things, kissed his wife on the
cheek, and left.
She did not ask to come, and Mulder felt a mixture of guilt and relief as he
pulled his car
out of the driveway.
He did not remember the drive to the hospital.
The entire distance had been driven in a kind of trance. He remembered
nothing, but
somehow he had ended up exactly where he had intended to go.
And now he was standing in the entrance of a quiet, dark, and almost
deserted hospital at
midnight, feeling and looking a bit like a lost child.
He had no idea who to look for.
No idea where to go.
A tired, grouchy looking receptionist half stared and half glared at him
from behind the
reception desk.
Mulder guessed that most of the people she saw at this hour were weirdoes.
The kind of
people who deserved looks of disdain.
"Um..." He said, trying to remember the English language so he could ask her
a question,
though he had no idea what to ask.
Thankfully, he was spared the effort by the tall, thin, nervous looking man
who appeared
from down a nearby corridor.
The man saw him, seemed to know exactly who he was, and approached him.
"Mr. Mulder?" he asked.
Of course. Why else would a well-dressed, handsome man be standing in the
hospital at
this hour, looking confused?
Mulder nodded.
The doctor extended a hand. "I'm Dr. Boden. Thank you so much for coming out
this late.
I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."
Mulder shook his hand, but he still felt like he was a million miles away.
He felt like he was dreaming.
"It's all right," He said in that distant voice. "I have to admit I'm
curious."
Curious is hardly the word, his mind added. I'm downright beside myself.
"Come with me, then" Dr. Boden said, turning towards a nearby elevator and
beckoning
for Mulder to follow.
The night-receptionist eyed them with a curious gaze as they disappeared
into the
elevator.
"Do you mind if I ask," Dr. Boden said as the elevator door closed behind
them "What it
is you do?"
"I work for the FBI," Mulder replied.
As far as Dr. Boden was concerned, the plot had just thickened.
"FBI," he said pensively. "So it's likely this woman could be..."
"Someone from a case, yes... maybe...
" Mulder replied. "Who brought her in?"
Dr. Boden shrugged. "I have to say I don't know. She wasn't admitted.
Someone dropped
her off anonymously and left again. One of the nurses found her just laying
on one of the
beds. We didn't know what to do with her, who she was, or who her family
is."
Mulder nodded, though he barely heard the doctor's words. His mind was
elsewhere again.
The Intensive Care Ward was deathly quiet at this time of night.
To Mulder, it seemed like a tomb.
A night nurse made her rounds in the quiet hallways, checking on patients,
making sure
they were all right. Machines designed to keep people alive beeped and
clicked behind
closed doors
..Mulder felt uneasy as Dr. Boden led him down the dark hall. Their footsteps
echoed
eerily, and Mulder wondered if Dr. Boden could hear his heart beating as
well. Perhaps the
entire ward could hear it.
The room he was led to was dark and silent, save for the sound of the EKG
monitor and
the respirator, feeding oxygen to the small figure lying dormant on the
hospital bed.
Mulder studied the figure for a long time, trying to get his brain to accept
what his eyes
saw.
It had to be a dream.
It had to be a dream, or a mistake.
How could this be, after all this time?
"Do you know her?" The Doctor asked, noting Mulder's riveted stare.
Mulder nodded, unable to speak.
"Family?" He asked.
"No," Mulder whispered. "Friend. A good friend."
"You know her name, then?"
Mulder nodded again, as dr. Boden produced a pen and the patient's chart.
"Scully," Mulder said. "Her name's Dana Scully."
XXXXX
This was too much to believe.
Too much to take in all at once.
There, on the small, sterile hospital bed, her small body barely visible
beneath all of the
blankets, tubes, and monitors, lay the woman he had been pining for for 10
years.
She looked decimated. Wasted away.
But other than that, she looked just like the Scully he had known.
She was still beautiful.
Oh god, what am I going to do? He thought.
It would have been better to spend the remainder of his life wondering than
to see her like
this. A shell of her former self. Catatonic, Dr. Boden had said.
Unresponsive.
"How bad is she?" Mulder asked.
"We don't know," Dr. Boden replied. "We haven't done much as of yet. But
she's in a
catatonic state. Unresponsive to external stimuli."
A vegetable, basically, Mulder thought cynically.
If she had been killed long ago, she would have been better off.
"Does she have any family in the area?" Dr. Boden asked.
Mulder shook his head. Margaret Scully had relocated to San Diego a long
time ago to
live with Bill and Tara.
Melissa... who knew where Melissa was? She had never been around much
anyway.
The wanderer of the family... the Black Sheep, Scully had called her.
"No," Mulder replied. "They're all on the west coast. I can give you their
names... that's
the best I can do."
He had kept in touch with Margaret Scully for a few years after Scully's
initial
disappearance. But she had become ill some years ago and moved to the west
coast to live
with Bill and Tara and their children. He hadn't heard from her since. Was
she even still
alive? He wasn't sure.
It had been cancer.
He hadn't been contacted in that regard, though he assumed Bill Scully
probably wouldn't
bother.
Bill had always blamed him for Scully's disappearance.
And now here she was.
10 years had gone by and she was suddenly, inexplicably back.
And the first thing she had said was his name.
She had not asked for her mother, her sister, or her overprotective brother.
She had asked for him, and it made him feel all the more guilty.
After all, it had been all his fault in the first place. His silly dreams,
his obsessive searching
for the Truth. She had been caught up in it and paid the price.
And still, 10 years later, she called out to him in peril.
Yet if not for him, she would not have lost so much of her life.
All of her life?
And now he was not only responsible for destroying Scully's life. His own
and possibly
Carol's would not be far behind if he could not decide what to do.
Looking down at the emaciated, drained figure on the hospital bed, Mulder
knew without
a doubt that his feelings had never dissipated.
Never.
How could he reconcile this to his life now?
He loved Scully. He loved carol and his children, too.
There was no way he could fit all of them into his life if Scully were to
recover. He would
have to give up something.
What was one to do?
Send Scully to her family and try his best to forget?
Leave Carol?
Neither option was appealing. Neither felt like the right one, though it
seemed like Scully
and Carol existing together in his life was an impossibility. Carol would
see his feelings for
Scully and that would be the end.
Take it as it comes, Mulder, a voice in his head - strikingly similar to
Scully's - said.
That's all you can do.
Looking down at Scully, Mulder realized that the decision could very well be
made for
him. There was a very good chance Scully would not recover.
As Mulder emerged from his rampaging train of thought, he became aware that
Dr. Boden
was staring at him.
"Their names?" He prompted.
Mulder almost had to laugh. How long had he been simply staring into space
while the
poor Doctor waited for him to give him the information he needed?
"Oh..." Mulder stammered, trying to reconcile his blunder. He listed off the
names of
Scully's relatives: Margaret, Bill, Tara, Melissa, and Charles as an
afterthought. He often
forgot about Charles. He had heard Scully mention him once or twice but
never met him.
It seemed he was never around.
"What is your relationship to Ms. Scully?" Dr. Boden asked when he finished
writing
down the names.
"We used to work together," Mulder said vacantly. "We were friends."
That was an understatement.
"Any idea how she got here, Mr. Mulder? How long was she missing for?"
"Missing..." Mulder mumbled, and then more coherently, he said "Presumed
dead."
"Presumed dead?" Dr. Boden said, his interest piqued.
"for ten years," Mulder added.
The Doctor's tired eyes widened. Clearly he had been through a lot today,
and this was not
helping. The mystery was deepening and he was in no mood to try and solve
it.
"ten years?" He asked, as though the repetition of Mulder's words would
cause them to
make more sense.
"Ten years," Mulder said again. "Her death certificate was issued a long
time ago. She has
a headstone at the cemetery. "
"No wonder we had trouble identifying her," Dr. Boden said. Now it was his
turn to stare
vacantly at the mysterious patient.
"You can verify it in the medical database, I'm sure," Mulder added.
"I'd better contact the police," Dr. Boden said "And try to locate her
family. Are you
available for questioning if the police need to talk to you?"
"Of course."
I am the police, Mulder thought, but he knew what Dr. Boden was getting at.
He had a
personal attachment to this case. It would not do for him to get involved
beyond that.
"Do you want me to notify you of any further developments?" The Dr. Asked.
Mulder nodded.
"Please," He said quietly.
There was an awkward, momentary silence during which Mulder and Dr. Boden
tried to
comprehend what was happening.
"Truthfully," Mulder said finally. "Based on what you know.... what are her
chances?"
"Not too good," Were Dr. Boden's only words.
From: "Erika -Invisigoth421-"
With or Without You, part 1 of 2 (part 1c)
by Invisigoth421 - invisigoth421@hotmail.com
For disclaimer, rating, summary, etc see part 1a
"Not too good."
Mulder would have used those words to describe how he felt as he pulled his
car into his
own drive way.
It was 1:00 AM.
"Not too good", however, was a very tame way of describing how he felt.
He felt downright shitty.
Horrible.
Like death warmed over.
All of these years he had missed Scully. Pined for her like the lost love
that she was.
Wanted her to come back more than anything else in the world.
And now she was back.
This had been what he had hoped for for years, though he had never realized
the
implications of what he wished.
Perhaps he had never really realized what would happen if his wish came
true.
It was turning his life upside down already.
And what would he tell Carol?
Carol, the precise reason he was home right now.
He had quelled the urge to remain at the hospital and shed the 10 years
worth of tears that
had been building up inside him. Had he done so, Dr. Boden would likely have
admitted
him to the psych ward.
Instead, he had held the tears in. He had come home to his real life. To his
real
responsibilities.
To Carol.
What was he going to tell her?
Carol was still awake when Mulder walked in the door.
She had the look of someone who had been doing nothing but sitting,
listening, and
waiting. Waiting for the sound of a car in the driveway and the glow of the
headlights
through the front window to tell her that her husband was home.
"Well?"
He had barely shut the door behind him when she spoke.
But had she spoken, or had the look in her eyes simply conveyed the thought
so well that
she had not needed to speak?
"Well...:" Mulder said, his mind reeling, trying to think of exactly how to
explain this to
his wife.
How did one explain such a thing? "Honey, I've been keeping an important
part of my life
secret from you. Please forgive me?"
"Was it anyone we know?" Carol asked. Her eyes were concerned, but in no way
did her
expression indicate that she realized the magnitude of what was going on.
She thought it
was simply someone from a former case of Mulder's.
"Yes," Mulder replied slowly, stalling as long as he could while he thought
of diplomatic
ways to explain.
"Who?" She asked.
Approach it slowly, Mulder, he told himself.
Don't make her more worried than she already is.
"It involves a lot of explaining," Mulder said finally, realizing too late
that those were not
the correct words to use. He had instantly succeeded in leading Carol to
believe the person
in the hospital was an old girlfriend, or someone he had had an affair with.
Carol was wonderful, but if she had one weakness, this was it.
The notion that Mulder had ever looked at another woman before he'd met, let
alone while
he was with her, her was appalling to her. Though the idea made no sense to
Mulder, he
had done his best to cater to it over the years.
If Carol knew about Scully, though, she would probably kill him.
The fact that he had kept it from her all these years didn't help.
And neither did the fact that he still loved Scully as much as he had back
then.
And guess what, honey? You look just like her too!
I'll just leave that out, he thought. Selective explanation. There are some
things she doesn't
need to hear.
"There are some things I haven't told you about my life before I met you,"
Mulder said,
sitting down on the couch beside her.
"You're scaring me," Carol said instantly. She folded her arms across her
chest. Her face
turned white.
"Nothing to be scared about," Mulder hastily added, but was that the truth?
"I didn't' tell
you because I thought you'd think I was nuts. That's all."
"What were you, a criminal or something?"
"No," Mulder said, trying to laugh though it was the last thing he wanted to
do right now.
All of the trust had gone out of Carol's eyes and it frightened him.
"I worked in a division of the FBI called the X-Files," He continued.
"What's that, the porn division?"
She wasn't joking. She was angry with him now, her words biting and cynical,
and Mulder
suddenly felt himself becoming annoyed with her jabs.
Let me explain, dammit!
"No," He said again, firmly. "Let me finish... Please."
"I don't know if I want to hear this," Carol said, avoiding eye contact.
"Carol..." Mulder said, his voice exasperated. "Please..."
Carol said nothing.
"It started with Samantha," Mulder said, ignoring the fact that Carol
appeared to be trying
not to listen to him. "With my sister. Before I met you, Carol, I devoted my
life to finding
her. I believed she'd been abducted by aliens, Carol, or taken by the
government. My
father worked for the government... for a shadowy sector I didn't know
anything about."
"The government," Carol said, suddenly sounding very much like Scully in her
skepticism.
"Aliens..." She added, her tone biting.
"Yes," Mulder replied. "It led to me working on the X-Files division at the
bureau. The
X-Files dealt with all of the stuff the FBI doesn't want the public to know
about. The
paranormal, aliens, the unexplained... everything like that."
"How long did you do that for?"
Good, she was softening.
"Not long enough. About 2 years. It was my excuse to find a way to look for
Samantha. I
came close to finding her a few times... I found lots of things that
suggested I wasn't so far
wrong about what happened to her, but I ended up giving up. Well, that's
not entirely
true. The division was shut down, and I never bothered to try anymore."
"And who is this woman in the hospital? Samantha?"
"No," There was some disappointment in Carol's eyes as Mulder voiced his
reply. "She
was my partner."
"Partner?" Carol was alarmed.
"*work* partner," Mulder added, leaving out the fact that he would have
preferred Scully
to be more than that.
"She disappeared," he continued. "10 years ago some guy kidnapped her. He
thought he
was an alien abductee and he thought that if he took her, she would be taken
in his place. I
chased him halfway across the state to find her, and we ended up on the top
of Skyland
Mountain. I saw bright lights, and then it was just him, the kidnapper, and
she was gone. I
never saw her again. We all thought she was dead."
"And that was her tonight at the hospital?"
"yes."
"Was she your girlfriend?"
"No<" Mulder said, knowing this would come sooner or later. "She was a close
friend. At
the time she was my best friend. My only friend."
"You missed her a lot."
"yes. Of course I did. You would miss your best friend, too."
"You are my best friend."
That hurt, Mulder thought. Just lay on a bit of the old guilt, Carol. Rub
salt in the wound.
But he could hardly expect Carol to understand. It wasn't fair.
"Are you glad she's back?" Carol asked.
"She's catatonic," Mulder added. "Vegetative. In that case, no, I'd prefer
she was dead
than to have to see her like this."
Carol sighed. An exaggerated sigh meant to convey just how pissed off she
was. Mulder
ignored it. Her mind was having trouble taking this all in. Mulder could see
that much.
"what are you going to do?" she asked.
"I'm not sure," Mulder replied. "They're contacting her family. It think
they'll take care of
it." he trailed off. This was partly the truth, but in actual fact he
desired strongly to do
something more for Scully.
He could not tell Carol this. She would never agree to it.
And he didn't want to lose both of them.
----
The following Sunday was a day Mulder would have liked to skip altogether.
If it had been possible to somehow fast forward through it to Monday,
perhaps things
would have turned out differently.
In the end, things went downhill from Sunday.
As it was, Mulder spent the entirety of that day in the doghouse, so to
speak.
Carol was not going to let him forget this blunder, and though she was
usually a kind,
caring, and forgiving person.
But not when it came to other women.
Mulder remembered a time years ago... when he and Carol had barely been
married for a
year, that she-devil Phoebe Green had resurfaced in DC and stopped by to see
him.
Carol had found out about it and hadn't spoken to him for two days, and
though Mulder
hadn't been thrilled to see Phoebe to begin with, Carol had made the
experience all the
more unpleasant.
She was a wonderful woman, but damn she was jealous.
She would have acted like this regardless, but the fact that Mulder had kept
the whole
truth from her for so long - for this very reason- wasn't helping.
She spent the entire day avoiding him, avoiding being in the same room with
him, and
although Mulder would have preferred this, her anger seemed to hang over him
and over
the house like a black cloud.
And when they did cross paths, she avoided his gaze or gave him a
reproachful look.
Mulder spent the whole of Sunday feeling like shit.
Feeling like jerk.
After all, here was Carol, mad at him for not telling her the truth, jealous
of Scully... and
her dope of a husband couldn't stop thinking about the woman in question.
Scully...
Perhaps Carol could see the feelings he still harbored for her. And that
didn't make matters
easier.
He longed to go the hospital to see her. To see if she was all right. He
longed to call Dr.
Boden once... just once... to check up on her.
And ever time carol had given him "that look" it had re-inforced his guilt.
You're a jerk, Mulder, that look said, and he knew it.
And he knew he was going to have to make some choices.
Now, at least, the house was quiet.
Carol had gone to pick up the girls at their friends' houses, and Mulder
found himself
grateful to have these few moments to himself to think.
Dr. Boden would have at least tried to contact Scully's family by now. They
would deal
with her. And hopefully, Dr. Boden would remember his promise to let Mulder
know what
was going on.
Her family would deal with her.
They would have to.
If I want to keep my life, Mulder had decided at some point that day, I
can't.
It had been hard to come to that decision, but he had arrived at it soundly.
it would not be fair to his family, or to Scully, to let his life fall apart
because she was
back.
He loved her... but wasn't she *in* this predicament because of him after
all?
Let her go. let her go to her family where she'll be safe when she
recovers... if she
recovers.
She would be safe, and he would have to be content knowing she was safe.
Destroying his own life was one thing. Destroying the lives of carol and
their children was
something else all together.
He had already destroyed Scully's life.
Leave everything else be, Mulder.
Still, he longed to be at Scully's bedside... longed to tell her.
The phone was ringing.
Hold that thought.
Mulder sighed and got up to get it.
Probably Carol, he thought, calling to say she was going to her mother's
with the girls and
would be back later. Using every excuse in the book to avoid him.
He couldn't blame her.
And after hearing Carol's voice on the other end and hearing her tell him
exactly what he
had assumed, Mulder decided that he was psychic.
At least he would be alone for the rest of the evening, he thought as he
replaced the
receiver. Alone to think about things... alone to...
Call Dr. Boden?
Go see Scully?
Just to be sure, at least, that she was all right?
It couldn't hurt.
But call Dr. Boden first.
He reached for the receiver again, only to have it ring as his hand brushed
it.
Perhaps there was a direct relationship between these two events.
Mulder answered the phone.
"Mr. Mulder," Dr. Boden said on the other end of the line.
Psychic. No doubt about it.
How Scully would laugh at that theory!
"Hi," Mulder said tentatively, wanting to hear how she was but not wanting
to at the same
time. "how is she?" He asked.
"There's no change in her condition," Said Dr. Boden. "but that's not why
I'm calling"
Uh oh.
"I've been in touch with her family," Dr. Boden continued "and I've run into
a bit of a
dilemma."
Silence. Mulder dared not ask what had happened. He waited apprehensively
for the
Doctor to continue.
"I couldn't locate anyone but her brother Bill," the doctor finally said
when he realized
Mulder wasn't going to say anything. "The other brother and sister were
unreachable, and
the mother has passed away."
The words hit Mulder like a slap in the face.
Sweet, kind, gentle, loving Margaret Scully, gone.
Of course that bastard Bill would never have bothered to tell him.
But what was the deal with Bill? Why was he hearing from Dr. Boden like this
if
everything was all right with Bill too?
"What happened with Bill?" Mulder asked, voicing his thoughts.
"He was less than willing to help," the doctor said. "At first he refused to
believe me..
thought I was pulling his leg," there was a cynical chuckle "And when he
finally did
believe me, he made it clear he wanted nothing to do with it at all."
"WHAT?" Mulder cried, feeling rage boil up inside him.
Wouldn't Bill Scully have jumped at the chance to rush across the country to
save his baby
sister from the clutches of the Evil Fox Mulder?
"That's what he said," Dr. Boden replied, calm despite Mulder's reaction.
"It appears that
you are the only person left who is any relation, blood or otherwise. I have
discovered
from Ms. Scully's records that you were witness to her living will. That
shows me that you
were who you say you were."
Living will.
He had forgotten about that.
"You're the only person I have to contact now," the doctor continued. 'As
Ms. Scully is
unable to make any decisions for herself, and although it sounds bad at
this particular
time, there is also the matter of her having no insurance..."
Mulder's firm decision to get on with his life had been abruptly shot down.
By Bill Scully.
How could that bastard abandon his sister?
"Do whatever you have to do," Mulder said quickly. "I'll foot the bill."
Ouch. It hurt saying that. The bills would be astronomical, and Carol would
kill him for it.
There would be no way he could hide such a huge expense from her.
"All right then," Dr. Boden said.
"But I have a favor to ask," Mulder continued, his mental gears turning.
"give me her
brother's phone number. "I'd like to give him a piece of my mind."
"I already did that, Mr. Mulder," Dr. Boden said "But I appreciate what
you're trying to
do."
There was the sound of rustling papers, and then Dr. Boden was reading a
California
phone number off to Mulder.
Clearly, the doctor thought someone should have a few words with Bill
Scully. And
Mulder was the perfect candidate.
The phone rang several times before it was answered.
Mulder 's heart pounded in anticipation. His stomach did somersaults. He
felt a tinge of
sweat form on his brow.
He didn't like talking to Bill Scully. He had never liked it, and although
the thought of
reeming him out gave Mulder great joy, it made the prospect of talking to
him no more
appealing.
"Hello?"
there was no mistaking the voice of Scully's brother.
"Bill," Mulder said, wondering if the as hole would recognize his voice too.
"This is Fox Mulder."
Aren't you happy to hear the melodious sound of my voice? Mulder thought to
himself,
quelling the urge to say it. He almost smiled.
At any rate, it would have made no difference. There was total silence at
the other end.
But at least the bastard didn't hang up.
"If you won't talk to me that's fine," Mulder said to the silence. "I just
want to know why
your sister, who's been missing for 10 years, is now lying in a hospital bed
out here with
nobody from her family willing to take care of her. Why is that, Bill?"
Silence.
"I thought you would jump at the chance to rescue her from me," Mulder
added.
"She wouldn't be like this if it weren't for you," Bill suddenly said
bluntly.
Mulder was surprised. He hadn't been sure Bill was even there.
"All the more reason you should come and take care of her! How can you do
this to her?
Haven't you missed her?" Mulder found himself stammering with rage. It was
unbelievable
to him that Scully's family would abandon her. " Don't you want to see her
again?"
"So I can watch her die?" Bill asked vehemently. "I said my good-byes
Mulder. She was
dead to me a long time ago. I grieved, and I've gotten on with my life. If
you haven't, that's
no problem of mine."
"But she's not dead!" Mulder spat. "She's here, she's alive, she has
nobody."
"She has you," Bill replied coldly. "I love my sister. Ten years ago she
disappeared
because of you. She's been dead to me for a long time. We grieved for her...
we all did.
And now we're getting on with your lives. We don't want to go through it
again. You got
her into this, Mulder, you look after her. To me she's gone."
Bill hung up.
Mulder stared at the receiver in disbelief.
How could anyone do this to someone they loved?
Bill had always been the one to blame Mulder for what had happened to
Scully. Now here
he was, abandoning her, to the very person he hated.
Why?
"To me, she's gone..."
What was wrong with that concept? A family member dies, you grieve for them
and
eventually get used to not having them around.
the dead family member comes back and you don't want to see them?
Mulder thought for a moment.
Bit by bit, he began to understand.
Look how much you wanted her back, Mulder, and look what it's doing to your
life.
We grieve for the dead, we miss them, but our lives then take a different
path, he said to
himself. Do we really want them back after 10 years when our lives have
changed so
much?
Yes, Mulder told himself. We do.
I do.
"Bill can go fuck himself," Mulder said, hanging up the phone which was now
beeping
incessantly in a plea for him to hang up.
This was going to turn his life upside down, but he would not abandon
Scully.
Not when she had no one else.
XX
She didn't look any better than she had the night before.
Perhaps it was just the light, but Mulder thought she almost looked worse as
he sat down
in the chair beside her bed.
The room was dark, barren. Not a flower graced the bedside table. Nobody
would come
to visit her because, like Bill, they had said their good-byes 10 years ago.
Everyone who
knew her thought she was dead.
Only machines kept her company now, beeping and clicking in rhythm with her
poorly
functioning body, keeping silent watch over her. Keeping her alive.
This wasn't right.
Mulder made a mental note to contact Skinner. To let him know Scully was
alive.
But not just yet. On Monday, perhaps.
He needed a few moments alone with her.
Tentatively, slowly, Mulder reached out and took her small, frail hand in
his own.
She was pale, Mulder noted as he gazed at her. Her face looked as though it
had not been
exposed to the sun in years. Her once beautiful, coppery hair was a dull,
rusty color.
And she was thin. Too thin. Her cheekbones stuck out alarmingly, and her
cheeks
themselves were hollow -almost skeletal. Mulder knew that under those
blankets and the
hospital gown her ribs were showing through her pale, parchment-like skin.
What had happened to her?
He could not imagine.
Ten years.
What could they have done to her?
And why?
Why uproot someone from their life, and keep them from it for ten years only
to return
them like this?
Perhaps it had not been their intention to return her.... perhaps that had
been something
they had not expected.
"They"...
who were they?
Who had done this to her.
Mulder wanted to scream. He wanted to run from the room and hunt down the
people
who had done this but he could not.
Where would he start?
A vision came to him of a man... clad in a black suit, inhaling the acrid
smoke of a Morley
cigarette.
Was he behind it? He could be. But Mulder had not seen him in years. After
he had
stopped his work on the X-files, he there had been no trace of him.
Fox Mulder had been of no interest to him anymore. And Mulder had not cared
enough
for ten years to wonder why.
Now he wanted to know.
Mulder turned Scully's small, frail hand over in his. It looked so small...
she had always
been small, but her determination, her will, and her strength had made her
seem so much
bigger. Now there was nothing. She was frail and weak, and she seemed tinier
than ever.
And she was still beautiful to him.
"Scully..." Mulder whispered, leaning closer to her.
Could she hear him?
Was there any point in even hoping she might catch something of what he
said? Or was
her body simply an empty shell, her soul having flown the coop a long time
ago?
Dr. Boden had never used the words "brain dead" to him, and Mulder shuddered
as he
thought them now.
Catatonic. Unresponsive. He had used those words. And though he had put her
chances at
just short of nothing, he had even admitted there might be some hope.
"Scully..." Mulder said again. "I'm here."
Was there a flicker of movement on her still face?
It's your imagination, Mulder, he thought.
"Please wake up Scully," Mulder heard himself pleading. "Please... wake up.
I'm here. I'll
look after you...I don't care what happens."
Nothing.
Had he dared hope there would be a response? That was silly, romantic fluff.
That kind of
thing only happened in the movies.
He squeezed her hand, almost afraid that he might break it.
"I love you Scully," he said, leaning closer to whisper in her ear as he did
so. "I know I
never said anything but I do. I love you, and I'm sorry... so sorry..."
The monitors continued beeping. The respirator continued to feed air into
her tired lungs.
"Please forgive me, Scully, " Mulder said, his voice breaking.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
END OF PART I
From: "Erika -Invisigoth421-"
Title: With or Without You - part 2 of 2 (part 2a)
Author: Invisigoth421
Email: invisigoth421@hotmail.com
Distribution: OK to gossamer, Xemplary, ATXC, all others ask me first
Spoilers: Duane Barry, Ascension, possibly "3"
Rating: R
Classification: A
Keywords: Mulder/Scully UST
Summary: See part 1
Carol was home when Mulder arrived.
Had he been at the hospital that long? It didn't seem like it. The time had
flown by as he
lay at Scully's beside weeping... weeping for her, for her life, and for
himself because he
had been such a fool.
Or perhaps Carol had simply decided to come home because it was not possible
that
anything was ever going to go right for him.
He had wanted to wait, to have time to decide how he was going to tell her
his decision to
help Scully. Time to think often helped him come up with some of his best
answers. In this
case, he had not been givne that time.
Now she would be even angrier with him. She would be annoyed with him to
start off
with, because he hadn't been home when she had arrived. It would not make
things any
easier.
"You were at the hospital..." Carol said. The words were out of her lips as
soon as he had
walked into the living room.
Carol sat curled up in the easy chair, reading a book. She had spoken to him
before she
had even turned her head to look at him.
Nearby, on the couch, 6-year-old Kathy lay bundled up in a blanket, sleeping
deeply as
only young children can.
"Where's Sam?" Mulder asked, automatically.
"In her room," Carol replied, her voice unusually warm. Mulder had not
expected her to
sound in the least bit happy. "Sleeping. They're played out, both of them.
Why were you at
the hospital?"
Mulder wasn't going to be let off as easily as he had briefly hoped.
"You know why," Mulder said. He may have felt guilty but he was tired of the
games.
"How is she?"
For a moment, Mulder didn't believe he had heard those words coming from his
wife's lips.
Carol had asked how Scully was doing. He was astounded.
"What did you say?" He asked, just to make sure.
"I said... how is she?"
This was a good sign. He studied the small features of her face and saw that
she was
relaxed, and almost smiling. She was not angry.
What had brought this sudden attack of understanding on?
He decided it was probably best not to ask.
"No change," he told her sadly. "It doesn't look good."
"Did they contact her family?"
Mulder started to shake his head and stopped.
"They did," Mulder replied, seething as he once again thought of Bill
Scully. "They...
could only reach her brother and he wanted nothing to do with her."
"What?" Carol asked. Concern flooded her face.
She may have been angry with her husband.. jealous of this woman who had
been so close
to him, but she knew something that was wrong when she saw it. She had been
missing for
ten years and her brother wanted nothing to do with her? That was unheard of
to Carol,
who had come from what most would have considered a functional family.
Until now, that was what Mulder had thought of Scully's family. Bill had
changed all that.
Mulder shrugged in response to Carol's question. "He was afraid, I guess...
to go through
losing her again. I... I'm so sorry, Carol. " Mulder felt himself grow
suddenly angry
"Dammit!" he said, sitting down on the arm of the chair she sat in. "I'm
sorry to drag you
into all of this!"
"Everything would have been so much better if you hadn't kept things from
me," Carol
said, somewhat reproachfully. Still, her tone was soft, her voice free of
anger. Perhaps she
had done some thinking this afternoon. Or perhaps her mother had talked some
sense into
her.
"I know, honey," Mulder said, avoiding eye contact. "I'm a total shit. I'm
sorry. I didn't
know how to tell you... what you'd say if I did."
"It's over now," Carol said finally. "My mom gave me a stern talking to -
she said I was
acting like a spoiled brat."
Ah, so that *was* it. Mulder couldn't help but smile, yet somehow this made
him feel
worse.
He had just been at the hospital pouring his heart out to Scully, feeling
somewhat justified
because Carol had been less than understanding. And now here she was, acting
mature and
caring about the whole thing.
Leave it to life to expand his guilt as much as possible.
"Don't grin at me like that!" She said, smacking him playfully. "What are
you going to
do?"
"About Scully? The only thing I can do. I have to take responsibility for
her. I'm the only
one she has left."
Carol tensed. "That means footing the hospital bill," she said.
"Yes."
"You're paying for that on your own, you know."
"I know," Mulder replied. "I have to though. I can't leave her like that.
You understand,
don't you?"
"I do. I'll try," Carol said. "Will she recover?"
"The doctor said it doesn't look good..." he said, trying again not to look
his wife in the
eyes. He didn't want her to see the sadness there.
"That's all I know for now," he finished.
"Agent Scully, alive?"
Skinner's eyes were wide behind the lenses of his glasses. His face was
confused,
surprised, and tentatively happy all at the same time. But there was a hint
of disbelief in his
eyes as well. When Agent Mulder had asked to meet with him privately, he had
not
expected this news. He would never have expected it in a million years.
He had always been one of the people who had respected Agent Scully, even
revered her.
Her disappearance had been heartbreaking to him, though Skinner knew that
nobody had
been hit with it as hard as Mulder.
"Yes sir," Mulder said, wishing the news could be good news. "She was
brought in a few
days ago," he relayed the details to Skinner, from Scully's arrival at the
hospital to Bill's
rapid descent into the rank of asshole.
"My God Mulder, I don't.... know what to say here. This is unbelievable
news."
Mulder nodded. "That's pretty much how I reacted. I still don't believe it.
"
"What are her chances of recovery?"
Unfortunately, this was what always put a damper on things. Scully may have
been back,
but that didn't necessarily mean she had been returned to them.
"Not Good," Mulder replied. "They don't know, really. They started treatment
on her and
I talked to the doctor yesterday... he said the fact that she said
something - my name- the
other day was a good sign, but she's made no improvements before or since."
"Damn!" Skinner said, leaning on his desk for support. This was all a
little bit much to
take in in one morning. "I... don't know what to say, but if I can do
anything to help..."
"I might need it, sir," Mulder said.
"I know how much you missed her."
"Having her back isn't making things any easier," Mulder said, not knowing
why he had
suddenly felt comfortable telling Skinner this. "It was almost easier
missing her."
"I know how that can be," Skinner said. Of course, that was the reason.
Skinner had been
around. He had been through a lot. His wisdom was always helpful and
encouraging.
"You want to remember her as she was," he said.
That was partly it. Mulder couldn't stand to see Scully like this, but that
was only half of
the story. The other half was what it would do to his entire life if she
recovered. It was an
awful thing to think about. He wanted her to recover, but what would he do
if she did?
Now that he knew her family would take care of her... how could he continue
to live
happily with Carol knowing that Scully was there? Would his deep-seated love
for Scully
drive his marriage apart? Or would Carol force him to make a choice?
You're worrying about things too soon, Mulder reminded himself.
"Let me know If I can help at all," Skinner said again as Mulder headed for
the door.
Mulder nodded again, smiled, and went back to his work.
XX
It was Friday before Mulder heard any news.
The week had gone by at an agonizing pace. Work had seemed like hell, home
only
slightly better. Carol had retained her understanding attitude, but now it
was Mulder's own
guilt that was driving him up the wall. Carol's anger had almost been easier
to take. At
least then, he had felt justified in spending some time with Scully.
And still, despite her softening, Mulder felt scrutinized by his wife. She
paid close
attention to just how much time he spent at the hospital, and this caused
him to greatly
reduce his visits to Scully from what they normally would have been.
And when he did goto see her, nothing changed. She continued to lay prone on
that
hospital bed, machines keeping her alive... machines breathing for her, the
treatments
doing nothing.
It ate away at Mulder's heart.
Even work did not keep his mind occupied enough to stop thinking about it.
Now, he sat at his desk, staring at a pile of papers. He had been hovering
over the same
papers for an hour now, not working, not thinking... simply gazing, trying
to avoid
thinking at all costs.
He very nearly jumped out of his chair when his cell phone rang.
He grappled for it, fumbled with it, and eventually succeeded in answering
it.
"Mr. Mulder?" Dr. Boden said on the other end.
This was it, Mulder thought. There was no mistaking the sound of his voice.
Somthing
had happened. It was over, one way another. Scully had died, or did he dare
hope....?
"You'd better come down to the hospital right away," he said.
Panic flooded into Mulder's body. Why didn't doctors every just tell you
straight waway
what was going on? Why did they always have to beat around the bush?
"What's happening?" Mulder asked.
"Ms. Scully's woken up."
Xx
Mulder couldn't believe what was happening.
Dr. Boden's words rang though his head as he drove to the hospital, and once
again - as he
had a week before - he found his way to the there without trying. His body
shifted into
some kind of autopilot that allowed it to complete it's duties without the
use of his brain.
He was certain of this, because his brain was completely occupied with
thoughts of Scully.
And this time , it was joy that clouded his senses, not sadness, despair and
worry.
Scully was awake!
He tried not to think of the implications of this. Suddenly it didn't
matter. What it would
do to his life didn't matter. All that seemed to mean anything right now was
that Scully
was not dead. She was not catatonic. She was awake.
Life was good.
Dr. Boden was waiting for him in the hospital lobby. His usually somber,
thin face broke
into a smile at the sight of Mulder's joyous expression.
"You look like a very happy man," Dr. Boden said. Clearly the happiness was
catching.
"Is she... "
Coherent? Mulder meant to ask. He had simply hung up and dashed out the door
after Dr.
Boden's phone call. He hadn't really thought about the fact that "awake"
might have meant
a lot of things.
"Very," The doctor replied as they headed once again for the elevator.
Mulder breathed an
inward sigh of relief. "It's amazing, really. All of a sudden she just
opened her eyes. She's
coherent, she's talking, wondering where she is. "
"does she know...."
"How long it's been? I don't know, Mr. Mulder. I haven't told her anything.
I thought I'd
leave that to you. She asked for you right away, you know."
Mulder beamed.
"Is this kind of thing normal? Does it happen a lot?" he asked.
"No," Was the doctor's blunt reply. "I can't say a lot of patients in her
condition come
back so fully, but I have seen it happen. It's the kind of thing we tend to
think of as a
miracle. There's no other explanation. She wasn't even responding to the
treatments and
then all of a sudden... like I said..."
"Is she out of danger?" the elevator dinged and the door slid open on their
floor.
"I wouldn't say she's completely out of the woods," replied the doctor as
they ambled out
into the hallway. "She's weak. But she's doing well. She looks good."
Mulder stopped and turned to face Dr. Boden. "Is there any indication of...
what happened
to her?"
The Doctor shook his head. "All I can tell is that she has spent a long
period of time
immobile. Her leg muscles are so atrophied from lack of use that she's going
to need
extensive physiotherapy before she can walk again. There is also..." He
paused. "Exposure
to some kind of radiation has made her infertile. I can't ascertain if this
happened before or
after her abduction. other than that there are no signs of any external
damage."
Mulder thought for a moment. Her reproductive system was something Scully
had never
discussed with him, which was to be expected. It was not the kind of thing
you discussed
with the people you worked with. AT the moment, it didn't seem to matter.
All that
mattered was that Scully was alive.
After 10 years, he was finally going to see her again.
"Mulder?"
The sound of that voice speaking his name was music to his ears.
Dana Scully was half sitting, half lying on the hospital bed when Mulder
entered the room.
The respirator had been turned off, but the other machines and monitors
still continued
their duties around her, making sure everything was working properly.
She was still thin, still pale. But now, at least, there was some color in
her cheeks. There
was light in her eyes... those beautiful blue eyes. Open, at last, though
Mulder had not
dared to hope it would happen.
"Scully..." Mulder said, his voice a faint whisper.
Dr. Boden, who had been right behind Mulder, cleared out of the room, taking
the nurse
who had been attending to Scully with him.
As Mulder approached her, he saw something else in those eyes.
Fear.
"Mulder?" She said, her voice weak, full of panic, but unmistakably Scully's
"What's going on? What happened?"
Mulder opened his mouth to speak but failed.
Could he really be here talking to her, or was it all an incredibly vivid
dream?
He had never, ever believed this possible. He had fantasized about her
return, hoped for it,
but never truly believed it would haooen.
Mulder found himself not caring about anything else as he sat down on the
bed beside her
and took her hand in his.
Her free hand reached up and touched his face... touched the faint lines
that had appeared
there, touched the flecks of gray in his hair that had not been there when
she had known
him.
"What.... happened to me?" She whispered.
"Don't you remember anything, Scully?" Mulder asked.
"Mulder," She said matter-of-factly. God, that voice was a beautiful thing!
"All I
remember is that freak Duane Barry driving halfway across the country with
me in the
trunk of his car... why... how did I end up here?"
Mulder was dumbfounded.
She remembered.... nothing?
Nothing of the last ten years?
He sat down on the bed beside her.
"Did the doctor tell you anything?" Mulder asked. "Anything at all?"
Scully shook her head, slowly, as though it hurt to do so. "No, he just said
you were
coming to get me. Why? What happened? Is everything all right?"
"Scully... I... you..." How did one do this? how do you tell your best
friend she's missed
the last 10 years of her life?
"What?" Scully asked, seeing the confusion in Mulder's eyes. "What's going
on?"
"You don't remember anything beyond Duane Barry?"
"No. The last thing I remember is him taking me to the top ot Skyland
moutain... a few
days ago, I guess. What's going on?"
A few days ago. The words very nearly broke Mulder's heart.
She had no idea.
"Scully, you've been gone for ten years."
Scully scoffed immediately, rolling her eyes.
Oh, Scully... Mulder thought... If only you knew how much I've missed you!
I've even
missed your sarcasm.
"Sure Mulder," she said sarcastically. She had decided that this was just
another one of his
jokes. Silly Mulder, always playing her for the fool, making up things at
her expense.
"Scully, I'm not kidding. You've been gone for ten years. I thought you were
dead.
Everyone did."
She must have seen the seriousness in his eyes, the determination in his
face, but some part
of her was still unwilling to believe what he had told her. And Mulder
couldn't blame her.
Who in their right mind would *want* to believe what he was telling her?
"Mulder, I've been through enough. I was kidnapped, and I woke up here in
this hospital
with no idea where I am, I feel like shit... and you're playing jokes on
me."
She doesn't believe me, Mulder though. My god, how can I convince her it's
true? How
can I live with being the one who had to tell her?
"Scully..." Mulder began, trying to look as serious as possible, lest she
continue to think
he was joking. "I'm not kidding."
Her eyes remained skeptical. She gazed at him with that air of disbelief
that was oh-so
perfectly Dana Scully. But there was something else there, too. In her eyes,
behind the
skepticism, there was doubt; a faint glimmer of uncertainty that told Mulder
she didn't
entirely disbelieve him. She wanted to believe, more than anything, that he
was joking, but
some small part of her knew he was not.
"Mulder..." Scully said, her voice suddenly weak, the color draining from
her cheeks.
"how is that possible? That I would be gone ten years and not remember it?
Where could I
have been? How could I not remember anything?"
"I don't know Scully..." Mulder stammered. "I don't know where you were, or
how you
got there, or how you got back. All I know is that you're back, and it's my
fault this
happened to you in the first place. And I'm sorry."
Scully sat for a moment in stunned silence.
He was serious.
She believed him, but the full magnitude of it had yet to hit her. Perhaps
it would not for a
long time. The mind had a way of doing that... perhaps to protect itself
from insanity.
"Mulder..." Scully stammered, finally looking him in the eye, her own eyes
wide with fear.
"I... don't understand... how..."
Mulder squeezed the frail, white hand he held in his own. God it felt good,
feeling her skin
against his and knowing that there was life in her. She was alive.
A week ago he would not have dreamed this possible.
Still, thoughts of his life, and of Carol, lingered in his mind.
He pushed them aside. One day at a time, he told himself.
One day at a time.
"I'm so sorry..." He said again. He could have said it ten thousand times
and it would not
have felt like enough. His silly obsessions... his stupid quests, had ruined
her life. How
could one express enough regret to make that up?
"I hate being the one to tell you this, Scully," he added. "I really do,
Scully. Please don't
think it's easy for me."
His voice trailed off and he looked away from her piercing gaze. He didn't
want to see the
hurt in her eyes that would be brought on by what he was about to say.
The day had started out happy. Now it was becoming as sad as the rest of
them had been.
"Your death certificate was issued..." Mulder continued. "Your mom put a
headstone at
the cemetery..."
He looked up at her again, curiosity getting the better of him, and saw that
she was trying
not to cry.
He could see the fear behind her eyes. He had always been able to see it,
though Scully did
her very best to hide it.
Nobody knew Scully better than he did.
"I... can't believe this..." she said again.
She believed it, all right, but god knew she didn't want to.
"I'm sorry," Mulder said again.
"Where..." Scully asked suddenly "Where's my family, Mulder? Why aren't they
here?
Were they here earlier?"
The possibility that some members of her family might not be alive had
occurred to Scully
only momentarily. She had refused to think about it.
Mulder shuddered as he realized that he would have to be the one to break
the news of her
mother's death to her as well.
His silence, it appeared, was unnerving her, for she spoke again before he
had a chance to
open his mouth.
"Why aren't you saying anything, Mulder? Tell me! Are they OK?"
Mulder fingered her hand in his, caressing it absent mindedly, and then
enfolding it tightly
in both of his.
"Melissa and Charles were unreachable," Mulder said.
"That doesn't surprise me," Scully said "They always have been. Where's my
mom? She
should be here, shouldn't she?"
In her heart, Scully must have known what was coming. Had her mother been
alive, she
would have stayed at her daughter's bedside unfailingly. She would surely be
here... but
one could not assume the worst without all of the facts.
Mulder looked up from Scully's hand into her questioning eyes.
"Oh god," Scully said "I know what you're going to say, Mulder. My mother is
dead, isn't
she? Oh god...." Scully drew in a deep, shuddery breath and looked away from
him, trying
to maintain her composure.
"It was cancer," Mulder said softly, almost grateful that Scully had
realized it on her own.
Telling her would have been harder for him than anything else.
"God, no..." Scully whispered, reaching absent mindedly to her neck to
finger the gold
cross... which was no longer there.
The cross...
Mulder had given it back to Margaret Scully when she had fallen ill. It had
traveled across
the country with her to San Diego and was probably now in the possession of
that bastard,
Bill.
Bill... he would soon have to break the news about Bill to her as well. This
would not be
fun. He wondered if she would be able to take it.
Scully sat in silence before him, staring into space, and Mulder could see
that it was taking
all of her strength to hold back the tears.
He could stand this no longer. He did what he had been wanting to do since
the first
moment he had seen her in the hospital.
He reached out and pulled her too him tightly, trying to avoid the
multitudes of wires and
tubes that were still hooked up to her body. He enfolded her tiny frame in
his large, strong
arms. God, she seemed so small! She had never been big, but with no meat on
her -skin
and bones, as she was -, she seemed even smaller.
To his surprise, she did not pull away, but rather went limp against his
embrace, allowing
him to hold her tightly... appearing as though she wanted to hide herself in
his arms,
Mulder's arms... the only thing left in this world that was familiar to
her.
"What about Bill?" She asked, her voice muffled against the folds of his
shirt.
Mulder stroked her hair absent-mindedly, wishing against all that he would
not have to tell
her this. It seemed worse, in a way, than her mother's death. Death was one
thing -
inevitable, unavoidable, and definitely not a choice in Margaret Scully's
case. Bill's
abandonment of his sister had been his choice. That would be harder for
Scully to accept.
Would Bill change his mind if he could see his sister now?
Mulder wouldn't give him the chance.
"Bill is an asshole," Mulder said bluntly, ignoring the tensing of Scully's
body as he said so.
Her defenses were up, and that was the sad thing. She would probably defend
her jerk of a
brother till her dying day, no matter how much of an ass he was.
Thankfully, she made no attempt to break the embrace.
"why?" she asked.
"He's a coward," Mulder added. "I talked to him, tried to talk some reason
into him, but
his argument was... well... he thought you were dead. The doctors thought
you weren't
going to survive this time around and he said, pretty bluntly, that he
didn't want to go
through the same thing twice."
Silence.
"He also said," Mulder added "That since it was my fault this happened to
you, that I
should deal with it."
Mulder wondered fleetingly if Scully would survive this.
Losing ten years of her life... coming back to nothing familiar only to find
that your family
had abandoned you and the only person left from your past life was the man
who was
responsible for fucking it up in the first place.
Well, Bill had been right in one respect. She was Mulder's responsibility
now. He would
have to be here for her every step of the way.
He was all she had, no two ways about it.
*what will Carol say?*
Mulder shuddered. What indeed? Would she understand?
She would have to.
Motion from the small body in his arms disturbed Mulder's thoughts.
Scully was crying.
The very thought of Scully crying made Mulder want to cry too. He had seen
her cry
before... only once, he remembered, when her father had died. Even those had
been
reserved tears, and Mulder had never seen her cry like this.
She was silent. She made no sound, and yet the sobs racked her entire small
body and she
shuddered as if she was going to fall apart.
Mulder held back his own tears. If he had to do anything right now, he had
to be strong
for Scully. She needed him.
For once in their lives, she needed him.
"It's OK, Scully," Mulder said softly, stroking her hair. "I'm here. I won't
leave you. I
promise."
From: "Erika -Invisigoth421-"
With Or Without You, part 2 of 2 (part 2b)
By Invisigoth421
invisigoth421@hotmail.com
For disclaimer, rating, summary, etc see part 1a or part 2a
-------
It didn't take Scully very long to calm down. The tears came, soaked
Mulder's white
cotton shirt through to his skin, and then stopped as quickly as they had
started.
Good old Scully, Mulder thought. Deciding it was best to hold back her
emotions. It was
inevitable. Scully would never allow her feelings to control her for long.
"This is unbelievable..." She said again. No matter how many times she
thought of it, she
would probably never fully believe it.
"You talked to Bill?" She said finally, sniffling.
"I tried," Mulder admitted. "Your doctor called him first, and he wouldn't
listen to him.
Then I called him to give him a piece of my mind and... well, he told me how
he felt and
then hung up on me."
There was silence for a moment. Scully made no motion to leave Mulder's
arms, and
Mulder made no motion to release her. After 10 years, there was nothing he
could have
wanted more than to hold Scully close.
"Maybe if you tried calling him...." Mulder suggested.
"No," Scully said abruptly. "If he's going to be like that, he can come
crawling back to
me."
That's the Scully I know and love, Mulder thought with an inward smile.
Love.
How badly he wanted to tell her...
But was not possible. Not now, perhaps not ever.
He would have to be content with the fact that she was alive.
Scully pulled back then, almost as if she sensed Mulder's emotional turmoil.
He was
hesitant, lingering in his arms a moment before finally sitting up and
looking at him.
She dried her reddened eyes with the back of her hand and regarded Mulder
for a moment.
"What about your job?" She asked. "The X-Files....?"
Mulder was reluctant to tell her this. Would she turn on him, like in his
dream, for giving
up?
"They were never re-opened," he said solemnly. "I couldn't do it without
you, Scully. I
had no desire to, so I never pursued it."
Scully looked disappointed, but she said nothing derogatory. Instead, she
persisted."What
about your search for the truth? For Samantha?"
"It didn't seem to matter anymore... I didn't want to do it on my own. I
didn't feel like I
could."
"Oh, Mulder..." Scully said. Was that guilt in her eyes? It couldn't be.
"I'm sorry," she said softly.
"Don't *you* be sorry!" Mulder said, perhaps a little more vehemently than
he had liked.
He saw Scully give a start when he said it. "It was my fault this happened
to you in the
first place. I couldn't keep doing what I was doing because I felt so
terrible... and I missed
you so much."
"It's not your fault this happened to me," Scully said firmly.
What?
Was she delusional?
"Scully, you wouldn't have been anywhere near Duane Barry, or the X-files,
or anything if
it weren't for me."
"Mulder, what I did, I did because it was my job, and I wanted to be there.
Nobody forced
me to be there, least of all you. Whatever happened was out of our control.
Don't blame
yourself."
"I...." Mulder was dumbfounded. He was certain she would have been angry
with him
about all of this. Wouldn't she need someone to be angry with? Wasn't that
human nature?
"Don't say anything else about it Mulder. It's not your fault. It's
someone's fault, but not
yours. I'm just sorry you gave up so much because of it."
Mulder took Scully's hand in his again and squeezed it.
"How.... how did you find me here?" She asked suddenly.
"they found me," he said. "You said my name, apparently, a few days after
you were
brought in."
"Who brought me in?" she asked, perking up, hoping this was some kind of
clue.
"They don't know," Mulder replied. "They didn't see the person. They found
you.... in one
of the rooms or something like that. "
Scully sighed.
If they were going to try to find out what had happened to her, it wasn't
going to be easy.
"Mulder..." Scully said again, softly. "What am I going to do? My whole life
is... gone. I
have nothing. What will I...?"
"Recover," Mulder said, squeezing her hand yet again as if to remind himself
that she was
there. "get better and then we'll worry about that."
Scully nodded and looked down at their hands. She caressed Mulder's hand
gently for a
moment, and then looked back up at him.
"So... what *are* you doing at the FBI, then?" Scully asked, trying to
change the subject
away from thoughts of what had happened to her life. Focus on Mulder. What
had he
being doing?
"Desk work," Mulder replied, greatful to change the subject. "Background
checking, fraud
cases, that kind of stuff. Nothing special. The most mundane of the
mundane."
"Did you ever... meet anyone? Get married?"
"Yes."
Was that regret in her eyes?
Oh, Scully... Mulder thought. Would things have been different if I'd just
told you I loved
you 10 years ago?
"Still married?" She asked, trying to hide the disappointment in her face by
smiling.
"Yeah. 8 years. Her name's Carol."
"How did you meet?"
Mulder smiled. Scully was trying really hard.
"She was the daughter of some friends of my parents... we were both really
lonely when
we met. We had nobody else..."
Scully stopped him in mid sentence. "you don't have to justify it to me,"
She said, but her
eyes smiled as she said it. "Tell me more about your life."
"Scully,. this is..."
"No Mulder, it's not silly. This is the way I take my mind off what's
happened to me. What
does Carol do?"
"She's a schoolteacher. Elementary school."
"Do you have any kids?"
Mulder smiled. If one thing could make him smile these days, it was his
kids... until he
thought about what Scully's re-emergence in his life would do to them.
"Yeah, two," he said, beaming with what could only be called fatherly pride,
in spite of his
concerns. "Samantha and Kathy."
If Scully had any idea who Kathy had been named after, she gave no
indication, though
Mulder couldn't imagine what irrational part of his brain didn't want her to
know. Scully
would have been flattered to know Mulder had named one of his children after
her. "How
old are they?" she asked, smiling.
"Sam is 7… almost 8" Mulder said hesitantly… would she recognize the name of
his
second daughter? Would she
take it as more than co-incidence?
"Kathy is 6," he finished quietly.
"Wow…" Scully said softly.
"I never saw you as a father before…" she continued "But I think you'd make
a good
one."
Mulder grimaced. "I don't know how good I am at it, really," He admitted"
Carol's always
been the nurturer… I've just kind of been a stick in the mud."
He had never admitted this to anyone before, and he probably would never
admit it to
anyone but Scully.
"Why do you say that?" Scully asked.
He shrugged. "Not enough time for them," He said "I'm always working… I bury
myself
in my work so I don't have to think about anything else. I'm too busy
wallowing in self
pity," He grinned up at her then, a lopsided grin that made Scully want to
reach out and
scratch him behind the ears like a puppy.
"I don't believe that," Scully said "You were always… very protective of
those you loved.
I can see you making a good father."
Yeah, look at me now, he thought. If anyone knew how I still feel about you,
Scully…
Especially when she talked about him like that. It only re-inforced his
notion that Scully
was the only person in the world who believed in him.
Scully… and Carol. Yes, Carol believed in him sometimes. She tried, but
Mulder knew
that deep down somewhere she truly believed that her husband was a little
bit
nuts. She tried to take him seriously, but it didn't always work. It was one
of the reasons
he had never told her about the X-Files and Scully until now, though he
dared not confess
that to her.
"I just can't believe you gave up on so much… because of me…" Scully said,
breaking the
silence that Mulder had caused by delving into his own thoughts.
Mulder took Scully's other hand in his own free hand and held it tightly.
"You have to understand, Scully," He said "It meant nothing to me without
you."
Nothing. It would have been so easy to get Skinner to re-open the X-Files.
But without
Scully... Mulder hadn't cared, and Skinner had seen that.
"But why not?" Scully asked. "You did it all before I was there. For years!
Why did it
make a difference when I was gone?"
Because I love you, he thought. You gave me the strength I needed to
continue. Without
you it would only have been a matter of time before I'd given up anyway.
But I can never tell you that because I love my wife and kids, too.
Still, Mulder found it difficult to resist the urge as he sat there holding
Scully's hands.
He had long ago given up hope of ever seeing her again.
Now here she was in front of him. Her body may have been ravaged but her
mind and
spirit remained unbroken. That was Scully. Unbreakable to the core, not
fragile like her
slightly off-center partner. She had always been the strength of their
partnership. Nothing
had hammered that home like her absence.
"I never realized how lonely I was until you came along," Mulder added..
"How much I
needed someone there to… to keep me honest. You did that, Scully. And when
you were
gone I had no desire to do it without you. It was a hollow, empty cause when
I didn't have
someone to share it with…"
He paused.
"It was like losing my sister all over again. "
That Mulder would equate her importance with that of Samantha seemed a
surprise to
Scully. Her small hands, inside his large ones, squeezed back, and she
smiled.
"I don't know what to say…" She said quietly.
"Scully," Mulder began. He gripped her hands more firmly and opened his
mouth to tell
her the very thing he had been avoiding.
No, don't' say that, his conscience roared. Be quiet. You'll ruin
everything.
"Just know that I…"
.....Love you.
The words were almost out of his mouth. They had formed in his brain and
were on the tip
of his tongue when a knock on the door frame of Scully's room distracted
them.
Two heads turned to see who was intruding.
Skinner stood there, smiling.
Skinner.
Oh yes, Mulder recalled. He had mentioned something about coming down to see
Scully.
His timing was impeccable.
Perhaps he had something up his sleeve, choosing to appear at that moment.
Perhaps he knew Mulder better than Mulder knew himself.
Xxx
"What are you going to do about all of this, Agent
Mulder?"
Mulder turned to look at Skinner. If he had been Scully, he would have
raised an eyebrow
in question, but hours of practicing in front of a mirror would not bring
him Scully's gift of
forehead manipulation. Instead he simply gave Skinner his best look of
confusion as the
two of them headed for the hospital exit.
Dr. Boden had decided that it was vital for Scully to get some rest. And
although the two
men had been as reluctant to leave her as she had been to let them go - in
the end
Scully's medical training had kicked in and she had decided rest would be a
good idea.
Mulder was amazed that all Scully wanted was rest. She had been through more
than any
human would consider possible, and yet here she was, happy to be alive and
only wanting
to get better.
But that was Scully. She never ceased to amaze him.
"What, sir?" Mulder asked, although he had a pretty good idea of what
Skinner meant.
"Agent Mulder," Skinner said, his tone authoritative and frustrated at the
same time. "You
know what I mean."
There was silence from the younger agent, causing Skinner to wonder if he
was going to
have to beat this into him.
"You may think you're hiding it pretty well, Mulder, but I know what's going
on."
Mulder looked at the floor as they headed for the main hospital doors,
avoiding eye
contact at all costs. He knew perfectly well what Skinner was getting at.
The fact that his
emotions and intentions were so visible when he thought he was hiding them
so well
unnerved him somewhat. If Skinner could see it, what were Scully and Carol
picking up?
"I know how you feel about Agent Scully," Skinner said. "I saw it when you
were
together before she disappeared, and I saw it constantly after she was gone.
And I see it
now. How are you going to deal with this? Have you thought about Carol?"
More silence.
"I'm coming to you as a friend, Mulder, not as your superior. Have you
thought about
Carol?"
"Constantly," Mulder replied finally, still looking at the floor. Despite
Skinner's offer of
friendship, he still felt like a child being reprimanded by his father.
Nevertheless, having
someone to talk to was a luxury Mulder had not expected to have.
"I've never felt so torn in my life," he continued. "Scully needs me… I'm
all she's got right
now. I told you what happened with her family."
"I know," Skinner replied. "But Carol and your girls need you too. Don't
forget that."
"I think about that all the time," Mulder told him. "It would be so much
easier if… If I
didn't love Scully so damn much."
There, it had finally been admitted out loud to someone. The relief was
minimal. Skinner
had known how Mulder felt before he had said anything.
"Do you want my advice?" Skinner asked.
Mulder had a feeling he was going to get it no matter what his answer was.
"I've probably thought of it already," He replied "But I'm sure I could use
it."
And Skinner was more than happy to give it.
"You made a commitment to your wife, Mulder. I suggest you stick with it."
"I can't abandon Scully."
"Don't", Skinner said. "Be there for her as much as you want. But you'd
better stick to
those wedding vows, Agent Mulder, or I'll personally kick your ass. Carol's
a good
woman, she doesn't deserve to be left in the dirt."
Mulder shuddered. As always, Skinner knew how to put him in his place.
And dammit, he was right, too.
XXX
2 Weeks Later
"I don't like that idea."
Carol Mulder stood before her husband, arms folded across her chest, eyes
narrowed, feet
firmly planted.
The look on her face suggested that she was not going to give in, no matter
how much her
husband begged and flashed his big, brown puppy dog eyes at her.
"Carol, it won't be forever," Mulder pleaded "She has nowhere to go. It's
just till she gets
back on her feet… literally and metaphorically."
"Fox, you're going to be paying through the nose for her hospital bills, and
now you think
we can afford to take care he indefinitely? We're not a long term care
facility! We have a
family to think about."
As if to stress Carol's point, Sam and Kathy chose that moment to burst into
the kitchen, a
running mass of giggles and delighted shrieks. They were playing tag.
They passed through the living room, unaware of the conversation their
parents were
having, and into the kitchen, their joyous laughter echoing throughout the
house.
"Hey guys, take the roughhousing to the rumpus room, OK?" Mulder called to
them, not
so much wanting them to stop their fun, but desiring that they be away while
he and Carol
argued over this. They had agreed never to fight in front of their children,
and Mulder
could see this turning into a fight in a moment or two, if it wasn't one
already.
There was more giggling, doors slamming, and thumping as the girls took
their game
downstairs. At least down there, there was nothing to knock over.
"And how long will it be before she's well?" Carol persisted "And before she
gets a job?"
"I don't know," Mulder replied. Did they have to know?
Scully would be no intrusion on their lives, he knew it for a fact. She
would never dream
of it. She had been through so much... all she needed was a little bit of
help from a friend.
"Skinner hinted that he might have job for her when she gets better…"
Carol sighed. The arms came uncrossed. Was she softening?
Mulder could see in her eyes and demeanor that she was torn. Her instincts
told her "no",
and rightly so, but her better judgment told her to forget her fears and
help someone in
need. Carol Mulder was a good person - a caring person. She would have to
prevail in the
end. It was just her nature, though the barriers still remained up.
"Where will she go, Carol?" Mulder begged, hopping to brk down that barrier
all together.
"Surely there's someone…."
"Tere isn't."
Carol put a hand to her forehead to massage it. Mulder wasn't sure whether
she really had
a headache or whether this gesture was to emphasise how furious he was
making her. He
assumed the latter.
"You know I don't want this," She said, in a final attempt to stand her
ground "I don't
want our lives to be turned upside down. If you'd told me about this sooner…
If I'd
known who she was before…"
"I've already told you I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd understand."
Silence.
"Think about how she feels, Carol," Mulder added. "She has no one."
*Yeah honey, think about the woman I've been pining for for ten years. I
can't believe I
have the audacity to ask this of you, but somehow I'm still doing it. And
part of me won't
blame you if you say no.
But dammit, Scully needs someone. The fact that I'm a jerk isn't her fault.
*
Carol wasn't going to give up as easily as her husband had hoped.
"I've already sat by while you spend all of your free time at the hospital
with her… while
you pay her medial bills... Why do you
think I should accept this? I'm starting to think there's more to your
relationship with her
than you're letting on."
Oh great. That was a good way to get things going, wasn't it?
* I really must wear my heart on my sleeve if Skinner can see it, and now
Carol's
suspecting something. *
With a little skillful manipulation, Mulder thought perhaps he could
convince Carol it was
her imagination.
"Carol, she was my best friend. There was nothing more between us and there
still isn't,"
That much, at least, was true.
"She has nobody. Her mother is dead, her brother's a jerk, I can't reach her
other
siblings… If I can, later on, maybe she can go to them but right how… I'm
all she has."
Carol sighed again. Once again it was not so much a necessary expulsion of
air as it was
an attempt to let her husband know just how pissed off she was.
"When did you say they were discharging her?"
"Monday."
"And I won't be expected to help out in any way, will I?"
"She's perfectly capable, Carol. She can stay in the spare bedroom… she
doesn't need us
fussing over her, she's just really weak… it'll be a while before she can
walk again."
"Just until she's better," Carol said, her voice resigned. She had been
beaten by her
husband's cute, pleading face.
"Of course," Mulder replied. He reached out and pulled Carol's tense,
unwilling body into
an embrace.
The Following Monday ----
"Your physiotherapy appointments are the most important," Dr. Boden told his
departing
patient. He peered through the driver's side window of Mulder's car as he
and Scully
prepared to leave the hospital for the final time. "Be sure you can get to
them every day."
Mulder and Scully nodded in unison.
"And make sure you eat well," The doctor continued. "When you come back for
your checkups I want to see that you're gaining weight."
There was a pause, and then Dr. Boden spoke again. "I'm glad to see you're
doing so well.
You're a lucky woman, Ms. Scully."
They said their good-byes to Dr. Boden, and drove off.
Scully had never been happier to leave any place than she was to leave the
hospital that
day. They had been good to her, but she longed to get out of there and back
into the life
she had missed so much of.
And Scully could not have been more grateful that the person who had meant
the most to
her 10 years ago was here for her now. To her, it meant everything.
Mulder, on the other hand, could not believe where he was right now.
In his car, driving along with Scully in the passenger seat. For ten years
he had not
imagined this would ever happen again.
He stole a glance at her as he drove.
Right now she was dressed in sweat pants and a sweater - garb he was used to
seeing on
the prim and proper Agent Scully, but it had been the most comfortable thing
for her to
get into at the moment. At least it was better than the sickly blue hospital
pajamas she had
been wearing for the past few weeks.
She was weak. It would take a lot of physiotherapy before she would be
herself again,
but if Mulder knew Scully, she would be up and running around long before
any of her
doctors had predicted. Even now it was evident she was up for a speedy
recovery.
Her color was back. Instead of pale white, her cheeks were now a rosy pink.
She had put
on a little bit of weight and was no longer the bone rack she had been when
she had first
appeared at the hospital. She looked like she had been ill, but she
definitely looked better
than she had upon her first appearance.
"Are you sure your wife Is going to be all right with this?" Scully asked,
staring straight
ahead at the road as they drove. This was the first time she had been out of
the hospital -
out of anywhere, that she remembered - in so long. But to her, it seemed
like just a few
weeks had passed since she had last seen Mulder. Everything that had long
ago faded into
memory for Mulder was fresh in Scully's mind - though Mulder felt that her
presence was
bring some of those memories to the forefront as well.
"I really don't know how she'll be," Mulder replied, wishing for a moment
that Carol had
been willing to come with him to the hospital to pick Scully up. Or, for
that matter,
to come to the hospital to meet Scully before he had brought her home. In a
way, he felt
that might have made things easier.
But somehow, still, he was dreading their first meeting.
Their similarity in physical appearance was what worried him the most.
If Carol noticed it, she would be upset.
If Scully noticied it, she would be dumbfounded.
Would they notice?
He hoped not.
A sudden instinct took hold of him and he peered into the rear view mirror
for no apparent
reason.
Right away he noticed something that disturbed him. That car behind them…
hadn't it
been there when they had pulled out of the hospital parking lot?
Now don't start thinking like that again, Mulder.
Being with Scully again was bringing back some of his old patterns. His old
paranoia.
This was ridiculous. None of those people had come near him since the he had
given up on
the X-Files. Just because the driver of that car was going in the same
direction as them
didn't mean they were being followed.
Thankfully, Scully distracted him from what he decided were paranoid
delusions.
"I'm sorry to be a burden to you and your family Mulder," she said. "I
promise I'll be out
of your hair as soon as I'm back on my feet."
Don't ever get out of my hair, Scully, Mulder wanted to say.
Instead, "don't ever think you're a burden, Scully" was what came out of his
mouth.
"Thank you Mulder, but I…"
Mulder interrupted her. "Did Skinner give you any more indication about a
job?"
She nodded. "He mentioned it again. He said once I'm able to walk again, I
might be able
to do a desk job or something like that, but I might have to be re
evaluated.. to see if I
can still do it. I don't know how true it is but he's trying, anyhow."
Mulder smiled. Whether Skinner could pull it off didn't matter. If the world
would be kind
enough to allow him to work with Scully again, even if they didn't work in
the same
division..
He glanced in the rearview mirror again as he turned down his home street.
That damned car was still there.
He said nothing to Scully. Best not to alarm her unnecessarily.
Unnecessarily. That exactly right, he told himself. You're being silly.
Lots of cars ended
up behind a person in the city, taking the same route.
Why did it bother him so much this particular time?
You're just being overprotective of Scully, he thought again. And if you
mentioned it to
her, she'd tell you the same thing.
Forget about it!
As they pulled into the Mulder's driveway, the car sped up to drive past
them and
disappeared down the street.
Mulder watched it go as he got out of the car and retrieved Scully's
wheelchair from the
trunk. Soon it was out of his sight, and had turned down another street.
Forget it, he reminded himself.
But that car was still on Mulder's mind as he wheeled Scully into the house.
Carol was not home, and for this, Mulder was almost grateful.
He had taken the day off, courtesy of Skinner, to fetch Scully from the
hospital.
Carol would still be at work, and the kids at School, for most of the day.
And
although it had bothered him before, Mulder was suddenly happy to have the
opportunity
to settle Scully in before awkward introductions to his family began. And
putting their
meeting off a little bit longer wasn't going to hurt, either.
"It's a beautiful house, Mulder," Scully said in awe, remembering only
Mulder's filthy,
depressing bachelor's apartment with it's shoddy housekeeping and
collection of playboy
magazines stacked on the coffee table. Now she saw a nice, clean, well kept
and well
decorated home. Slightly untidy, perhaps - toys were scattered everywhere -
but that was
to be expected from someoe who had two young children.
"I suppose you actually have a bed now." She added.
Mulder chuckled as he wheeled her into the spare bedroom. Thankfully, they
had one
downstairs, so Scully's ability to get around the house would not be
hindered by her
wheelchair.
"I do," Mulder replied. "Took me ages to get used to it,"
Scully laughed.
God it was good to hear her laugh.
This was getting to be too much for Mulder.
Every time she spoke, ever time she smiled, or laughed, or said his name, he
felt incredibly
happy and incredibly sad at the same time. How could he continue to go on
feeling this
way about her, yet being unable to tell her?
Dammit, he wasn't going to hold back any longer.
He knelt down in front of Scully in her wheelchair, took both her hands in
his, and looked
up at her.
"I want you to know," he said "how incredibly happy I am to be standing here
talking to
you."
Scully smiled. "I wish I had some recollection… of what happened. Of where I
was…."
"it doesn't' matter," Mulder said. "I'm just glad you're back. Here," He
said, standing up.
He gently pulled her up from the wheelchair and sat her down on
the bed that was to be hers. He sat down next to her, still holding her
hands in his and
looking her square in the eye.
"Scully, I have to tell you something," he heard himself say, as if his
mind was once again
detached from his body the way it had been the night he had heard the news
of Scully's
return.
Oh god no. Mulder, don't! His conscience said. Take Skinner's advice. Keep
it to yourself.
You'll hurt Scully, you'll hurt Carol...
I can't, Mulder countered himself. It's driving me crazy.
I have to tell her.
"Scully, I want you to know that I love you."
Scully stared at him for a moment, as if she had not entirely taken in what
he had just said.
She studied his face as if looking for some kind of clue that would let her
know what he
really meant.
Had he told her he loved her?
And had she really ever had any doubts about it?
Still, it was hard to accept, considering the state of Mulder's life right
now. Was he sure?
Or was he just falling into a romantic ideal of what it should be like now
that she was
back?
"Mulder!" She whispered. "What…. Are you saying…?"
"Scully, I loved you before you disappeared, and I never said anything. I
loved you so
much I couldn't go on without you. I've been a depressed, morbid sack of
shit for the last ten years, and now that you're back I realize that I still
love you."
"Mulder… you're married!"
"I know," Mulder said. "And this has been eating at me for weeks. Please
tell me you
might have felt something of the same. Tell me I'm not making an ass of
myself."
"Mulder, I suppose I did… I do… but I… you're married! Your wife…"
"I love her too," Mulder replied. "I'm not propositioning you, Scully. I
don't want to have
an affair with you. I can't. I married Carol and I have to stick with her.
I'm not the kind of
guy that would do otherwise. I just needed you to know, Scully. I needed you
to know
how I feel. I need to know how you feel."
There were tears in Scully's eyes, and Mulder felt his own eyes brimming
with tears as
well, not for himself but for her. He hadn't wanted to make her cry. It had
never been his
intention.
She took one hand from his grasp and reach out to stroke his hair, lingering
on the flecks
of gray as though they were her only reminder of just how long it had been.
"After ten years…" She whispered. "I can't believe it's been so long."
Mulder pulled Scully to him, once again enfolding her in his embrace.
"Don't leave me again, Scully," Mulder whispered, feeling the tears flowing
freely now.
"I won't. I promise."
"Best friends… forever Scully?" Mulder added. He sounded like a young boy,
making a
secret pact with his closest friend. Best friends forever. Swear it.
"Forever," Scully replied.
From: "Erika -Invisigoth421-"
With or Without You, part 2 of 2 (part 2C)
By invisigoth421
invisigoth421@hotmail.com
For rating, disclaimer, summary, etc see part 1a or 2a
----
The Following Friday:
Walter Skinner sat behind his desk, twirling a pen in his hand absent
mindedly.
Things had been going well up until now.
Scully was back. Mulder was looking after her, and everyone was happy. It
had made him
happy to see things going so well. According to Mulder, Scully and Carol
were even
managint to get along, which wasn't something Skinner had expected. And as
far as either
of them knew, the uncanny resemblance between the two women hadn't been
noticed by
either of them. This caused Skinner to marvel at just how oblivious people
could be to
their own appearance.
That didn't matter. What mattered was that everything had been going
smoothly.
Today, when Skinner's secretary had allowed an unscheduled appointment to
come
through the doors of his office, all of that had changed.
He leaned back in his chair and regarded the sinister looking man standing
before him with
contempt.
"My sources confirm," the man in question said, eyeing Skinner coldly "That
Agent Scully
has been returned."
Skinner knew what was coming next, and it infuriated him. Serving only to
add to his
anger was the knowledge that he would powerless to do anything about it.
He had not been bothered by this man in years. Not since the closure of the
X-Files and
Mulder's subsequent resignation of his quest.
Today, some sequence of events had caused this evil apparition to return.
Skinner didn't
need to be told what it was. He knew.
"You stay away from her, you son of a bitch," Skinner said, rising from his
desk, his voice
remaining calm despite the hate in his eyes.
The man before him took a long, slow drag on the cigarette he held in his
hand. He held
the smoke in for a moment, as if savoring its poisonous taste, before he
exhaled, blowing
the acrid smoke into skinner's face.
Skinner supposed that this was a threat of sorts.
"She was not supposed to be returned," the man continued. "It seems that
someone in my
employment acted against my wishes."
"No shit, "Skinner said, his voice dripping venom. "Who?"
"The matter has been dealt with," his friend replied, and as he did so he
reached down and
squashed his cigarette into the fine, polished oak of Skinner's desk as if
to illustrate.
Point taken.
Skinner's eyes drifted down to the smoldering butt, burning a black hole
into his expensive
desk, and then back up to the man before him.
"Agent Scully is a danger to our project. A possible leak," The man
continued "She will
have to be dealt with too."
"And why are you telling me this?" Skinner asked.
"Because I know your intentions. I know you, Walter. You're thinking of
bringing her and
Mulder back into X-Files. And I must warn you that if you do this, and if
you say anything
to either of them of what I've told you today, you will be dealt with too."
He lit another cigarette.
"I know this was your intent from the start, to re open the X-files," he
said, taking another
drag. "I saw it in your eyes."
"I will hunt you down for this," Skinner said. He could feel his face
growing hotter,
redder, with the anger he struggled to keep at bay. He thought of Agent
Scully and
everything she had fought for. She had survived ten years of god knew what,
only to be
brought back... to this greeting.
"She must be dealt with."
The words rang through Skinner's head, tormenting him.
And what of Mulder's family.. his children… were they in danger too?
"I *will* See you brought down for this," he added, wondering at that moment
why he
thought anything he could say would frighten this man. This was the devil
himself. There
was no fathoming this man's powers or his resources. Nothing could harm him.
Except Mulder and Scully, and he knew that.
And that was why they were having this little conversation.
"you can't" the cigarette smoking mad said, his voice deceptively calm, like
the eye of a
storm.
He left then, leaving Skinner alone in his office.
Walter Skinner sat down again, his body drained, suddenly feeling as torn as
Mulder.
It only took a few minutes for Skinner's resolve to return to him.
They weren't going to get away with this.
Dammit, they could threaten all they wanted, but he would not stand idly by
and let it
happen without doing something.
He picked up his cell phone and dialed Mulder's number.
If any phone line in the world was secure, it would be these ones.
If they caught him, they would likely kill him… or worse, discredit him...
make him lose
his job.
None of that mattered.
Mulder picked up after the first right.
"Agent Mulder," Skinner said, keeping his breath even, trying not to let the
younger agent
hear the fear in his voice.
"Where is…. Agent Scully?" Skinner asked.
"Oh, I dropped her off at the physiotherapy clinic this morning," Mulder
replied, his tone
cheerful for a moment. But as he finished his sentence, it changed. "Why?"
he asked,
suddenly sounding very concerned as if he had just begun to wonder why
Skinner was
asking about Scully.
"I can't tell you very much," Skinner said "Except to watch your back. Watch
Scully's
back. Please."
"What, Sir?" Mulder asked. "I… why? What's going on?"
"That's all I can tell you," Skinner replied. "Just listen. Be careful.
Please."
Skinner hung up.
Mulder turned his phone off and stared at it blankly.
What was going on?
What the hell had happened to Skinner to make him say that?
He had received those kinds of warnings from Skinner on occasion in the
past, and
Skinner was not a man to jump to conclusions. Something would have had to
seriously
Scare him to illicit that kind of reaction.
Not only that, but his refusal to divulge information suggested that Skinner
was also in
danger.
Hd someone threatened him?
Mulder thought fleetingly of the car that had followed them from the
hospital the week
before.
Had there really been more to that than he had allowed himself to think?
Was someone after them?
After Scully? Had her return brought more upon them than he had suspected?
It was entirely possible. Scully was evidence of something that was supposed
to be kept
under wraps. Whether it was involvement with aliens, or government
experiments that
denied the very fabric of human rights, Scully was in danger of revealing
that secret if she
remembered any part of her abduction.
Why the *hell* didn't I think of this before? Mulder wondered. Damn, it was
so obvious
now! Scully was a threat, and these people didn't take this sort of thing
lightly.
And what if Carol and the girls were in danger too?
Mulder glanced at his watch. 1:00.
Carol would still be at work, and the kids in school.
Scully was at physiotherapy.
For now, they were all in well populated, well lit places where only an
idiot would attempt
to harm them.
But what about when they left? What if they were being watched at this very
moment by
someone who was just waiting for the perfect moment to strike?
He had to warn them somehow.
Scully would understand.
But how would he break it to Carol that their lives were not only turned
upside down, but
might also be in danger because of their erstwhile houseguest?
It would not be Carol they were after, but Mulder knew from experience that
these people
would stop at nothing to get at him, or to get at Scully. If they had to
plow through
Mulder's family to do it, they would.
But what was he supposed to do? Find them all and demand that they leave
work, and
School, in order to feed what Carol - and perhaps Scully - would call a
paranoid delusion?
That would not do.
Better to watch them die because you were worried they'd think you were
silly? A voice in
his head said.
Warn them.
He picked up the phone and dialed Carol's work number.
"Pinecrest Elementary.," A tired, slightly bored sounding voice answered.
"Hi, May I speak to Carol Mulder?"
"One moment please,"
There was a brief pause. The sound of rustling papers and of voices drifted
through the
phone lines to Mulder's ear. Then the voice returned.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Mulder wasn't feeling well so she went home early. Is this
her husband?
"Um… yes…" Damn! Of all the miserable luck. "What time did she leave?"
"About a half an hour ago."
"Are Sam and Kathy Mulder still in class?"
"I assume so, Mr. Mulder. Would you like to talk to them?"
"No, It's OK. Can you just… tell them not to catch the bus today? I'll pick
them up."
"All right,"
"Tell them to wait inside the school."
There was a brief pause, and Mulder assumed the receptionist was taking
advantage of
this pause to question the sanity of this parent.
But apparently, this wasn't one of the more odd requests. After thinking for
a moment, she
simply said "All right" again.
"thank you," Mulder replied. He hung up the phone.
Well, Carol would be at home, then. He would phone her, then go get
Scully, and pick
up the girls after school. Yes, that was a good plan. He hoped he would be
able to stick
with it.
He dialed his home number.
Carol Mulder stood on the front step of her house, fumbling with her keys as
she
attempted the usually easy task of unlocking the front door. Inside, the
phone was ringing.
In her hurry to get inside and answer it, she was succeeding only in
dropping her keys a
lot.
Feeling like crap didn't help either.
There was a nasty stomach flu going around the school, and Carol had
determined by the
nausea and dizziness that she had contracted it. It had been enough to send
her home from
school in the middle of the day. Or rather, one of her co-workers had
insisted she go home
when she had barely made it from the lunch room to the bathroom before she
had started
puking her guts out.
She felt rotten. The phone was ringing, and she was so disoriented that she
couldn't get
the damn door open. All in all it was shaping up to be a wonderful day.
And who the heck would be phoning at this time of the day?
It was probably Fox, she thought. *He tried me at work for some reason and
now he's
worried because I'm sick.*
Or perhaps someone was calling for Dana, though she could not imagine who
would call
for her.
Carol shuddered at the thought of Mulder's house guest.
She saw the way Fox acted around her. She saw how comfortable they were with
one
another. Despite her husband's constant insistence to the contrary, Carol
knew that the
woman was more to him than just a friend.
But what could she do about it? Acting like a bitch to him or Dana would not
help her
case. Dana seemed nice enough. She was not a bad person. She was simply a
victim of
unfortunate circumstances and Carol couldn't hold it against her.
And as far as she knew, her husband was telling the truth when he said
nothing had ever
happened between them.
That, at least, kept her from becoming too upset with the situation. She
could only hope it
would blow over when Dana was finally able to leave, and that the man she
married had
enough integrity not to follow his infatuation with this woman.
She knew he did.
Carol very nearly cried out in joy when she succeeded in opening the front
door without
dropping her keys, but that joy was short lived when she heard the answering
machine
pick up the phone.
She ran for the kitchen, and as she did so her husband's voice filtered
through the
answering machine's speakers.
"Hey honey,' he said, his voice muffled and garbled "It's me. Just… um…
tried to get
you at School. Heard you were sick. Call me when you get home… it's really
important.
No, scratch that. I'll come home."
He sounded worried - there was a panic, an urgency in his voice that she
wasn't used to.
Had something happened?
She leaped for the phone, but was too late. A dial tone buzzed mockingly at
her.
Damn.
Well, phone him back, she thought. He'll answer his cell phone. He can't
live without that
thing. She started to dial, but something distracted her.
A noise in the other room. A bumping, creaking sound, almost like someone
walking.
Carol put the phone down and peered through the kitchen doorway into the
living room.
Someone was there - she was certain of it - walking across that
particularly creaky part of
the floor between the living room and the downstairs bathroom. She knew that
sound like
the back of her hand.
"Who's there?" She called.
The kids were at School, Dana was at physiotherapy, Fox was at work… Unless
he had
called from his cell phone just outside the house. That was highly unlikely.
"Fox? She called.
No reply.
"Dana?"
Carol stepped into the living room.
Stupid! She told herself. Someone's in your house. Get out of here! Call the
police.
But it was too late.
"Who are you?" She demanded. "Get out of my house!"
The figure standing on the other side of the room regarded her for a moment,
and then
pointed something at her.
There was a muffled sound, and then Carol Mulder felt pain blossom in her
chest and
spread throughout her body. Pain like a daggers, which was suddenly and
inexplicably
replaced by a warm, burning sensation.
From somewhere outside of her body, she heard more of the same muffled
sounds. There
was no more pain, but she could feel the warm burning again and again. She
heard the
strange sound of things ripping and tearing into her body and of something
hitting the wall
behind her. Then there was blackness.
A dark figure ran through he Mulder household and out the back door as
silently as a cat.
Mulder hung up the phone and contemplated for a moment.
Hadn't the receptionist said that Carol had left work a half hour ago?
She would be home by now. The school was only a ten minute drive away. Why
wasn't
she answering the damn phone?
Of course, she had probably stopped on the way home, or had gone straight to
bed. Or
perhaps she had decided to relax in the bathtub. Any of those things were
possible.
Yet none of them were options Mulder believed.
He couldn't contain himself anymore. He had to get home. had to make sure
she was OK.
She was probably fine, but after Skinner's sinister warning Mulder didn't
desire to leave
anything to "probably."
He got up and left, dialing the number of Scully's physio clinic as he drove
out of the FBI
parking lot.
"Mulder?" A tired sounding Dana Scully said when he was finally allowed to
speak to her.
"Scully, are you all right?"
"I'm fine. Why, what's going on?"
"Skinner…. I think someone said something to Skinner that made him afraid,
Scully. He
told me to watch your back, and mine as well. Something's up. something bad.
"
"Mulder… what? Why?"
"I don't know why, he wouldn't say. But I do know that right now you're a
threat to
whoever did this to you. And I think you're in danger. We're all in
danger."
"Mulder… are you sure?"
"No, I'm not sure, but better safe than sorry. I can't get a hold of Carol
and I'm a bit
worried… she's not at work and she's not picking up at home. "
"Oh no…."
"Look Scully, just stay there, OK? Don't go out of anyone's sight until I
come to pick you
up, OK?"
"Where would I go, Mulder? I can't walk."
"Just make sure there's someone nearby… all right? I'm gonna go check on
Carol and then
I'll come pick you up. Just be careful."
"I will," Scully replied. Her voice was concerned, and although Mulder had
expected her
to think he was overreacting, there was no indication of that in the way she
talked to him.
Mulder hung up and drove the rest of the way to his house in silence,
trying his best not
to think about the possibilities of what lay ahead.
Please God, he prayed, though he had never been religious.
Anything would do right now.
Please, god, if you exist, let her be all right.
The sight of Carol's car in the driveway brought some relief to Mulder as he
approached
his house.
She was home, at least. He smiled , his heart rate slowing down a little
bit.
But that didn't console him for very long.
The front door was ajar.
Not by very much - a less observant eye might not have noticed it. But
Mulder did… his
front door, open just a crack.
Enough to make him worry.
Mulder was suddenly, and for the first time, thankful that his current job
posting still
allowed him to carry a gun. He had thought it completely unnecessary for
years, but at
that moment in time he couldn't have been happier to have that particular
piece of
machinery stored safely under his coat. He drew it from his holdster and
held it ready.
"Hello?" He called, pushing open the door "Carol? Is anyone here?"
He stepped through the entryway and into the living room.
"Carol? I… C...!"
His voice was cut off in mid sentence and turned into a strangled gasp.
The sight that greeted him was one that would be with him until the day he
died.
There was blood everywhere.
It was splashed across the couch and loveseat, in sickeningly stark
contrast to the white
furniture he and Carol had picked up a few years ago. A sudden and
irrational thought
came to him - why *did* we pick white?
It splattered in a grotesque pattern across the far wall of the room, along
with a spray of
bullet holes, and was pooled on the white living room carped in copious
amounts. There
was enough blood here to fill an entire human being.
Mulder felt his head swim. Nothing seemed real anymore. Was it real? What
was going
on?
How could this possibly be happening?
In the middle of the living room, face down, her own blood pooling around
her, lay his
wife.
"Mr. Mulder?"
A voice called to Mulder from somewhere beyond the universe he was in at the
moment.
He ignored it. He pressed the backs of his hands against his eyes and
watched the
multitudes of colors that swirled there for a moment. Anything, right now,
was better than
the real world.
Unfortunately, the owner of the voice was rather persistent. It called to
him again.
"Mr. Mulder," It persisted. "Your family is here."
Mulder looked up, hoping for a moment that the day's horrible events had
been a dream.
Unfortunately, this was not so.
He was still sitting on the curb outside his house.
Police cars surrounded him, police officers milled about, in and out of his
house. And an
the ambulance parked nearby had still gone nowhere because the person it had
come for
was beyond medical care.
Carol was dead.
The only thing that made Mulder get up at that moment was seeing Scully and
his children
emerge from a nearby police car.
They police had gone to collect them, like he had asked. They were safe.
For that, at least, he was grateful.
But Carol…
She was dead.
Dead.
The word rang through his head as though it was mocking him.
And though he knew, deep down, that there was nothing he could have done,
part of him
blamed himself.
"Daddy!" Kathy and Sam called in unison, running to him., bombarding him
with
questions. "Where's mommy? Why are the police here? Why did we have to
come home from school?"
When he saw their innocent, questioning faces he nearly broke down. It took
all his
strength, mental and physical, to keep his composure at that moment. And
Mulder found
that he could answer none of their questions.
He did not have the resources. How did you tell your two innocent children
that their
mother was dead… that she had not only died, but someone had killed her?
And Wwat had they killed her for?
The Police had concluded that it looked like Carol had walked in on a B&E. A
back
window was broken and a few small, useless items had been taken.
Mulder knew that it was no B&E. Carol had been killed for a reason.
Because she looked just like Scully.
Someone had been sent to kill a short, red-headed woman and Carol had been
the first one
they had seen. It had been Scully they were after. He was more than sure of
this fact. But
nobody would believe it. They would all think he was insane. These people
were smart.
They covered their tracks well.
He couldn't believe they had gotten to her so quickly.
"Mulder!" Scully cried as a police officer wheeled he r up to her friend.
He sat there on the curb, holding one small, frightened child in each arm
and looking like a
lost child himself. It broke Scully's heart.
"Scully," Mulder said weakly. He wanted to go to her, to let her hold him
for a change,
but damn, that stupid wheelchair was in the way and he couldn't move with
one kid on
each ar.
To his surprise, it was Scully who made that move. She lifted herself from
her wheelchair -
something that must h ave taken considerable effort - and slid down to sit
on the curb
beside him. She slid her small arm around him, and pulled his head down to
rest on her
shoulder.
Mulder felt the tears attacking him from within, trying desperately to get
out. But he
couldn't cry. Not now. Not in front of his girls. He had to be strong for
them. Especially
when it came time to really tell them what had happened.
He was pretty sure that his children understood death. He and Carol had made
sure that
they were not ignorant to it. Still, it would not be easy, and Mulder hoped
beyond hope
that they would understand.
But to tell them right now? He fought with his conscience on that one for a
moment. Give
them the honesty they deserved, or spare them until the insanity had died
down? The
procrastinator in him decided to wait…Let them have their innocence for a
few moments
longer. After he told them, their lives would change forever. They would
never again
regard themselves or anyone they loved invincible.
No, he would not tell them now. Unless they asked…
"Where's mommy?" Sam piped in, as if on cue.
Mulder felt himself shudder. Scully lowered her head.
They sat there for a moment in sorrow. Two people who felt that they were
to blame for
the day's events, that things could have been prevented if only one of them
had done
something different.
And now they had to break the news to Mulder's kids.
XX
That Night:
The parking lot of the FBI building was dark and silent that night.
Mulder stepped cautiously out of his car and looked around. His eyes
darting this way
and that, from darkened corner to darkened corner.
He found what he was looking for almost immediately.
It was not the man he saw first, but rather the glow of his cigarette, the
only thing piercing
the darkness in the shadowy corner where he stood.
"Why did you tell me to come here, you son of a bitch?" Mulder fumed. His
body still
ached from the pain and shock of the day's events. His kids were devastated.
Mulder
supposed that the most horrible thing he had ever seen in his life was not
Carol after she
had been shot. No, the most horrible thing he had ever seen was the
expression on his kids'
faces when those words had come out of his mouth.
"Mommy's dead."
Scully was guilt ridden. She was beside herself. She was the only person who
shared
Mulder's knowledge of why Carol had died, and he continuously blamed herself
for not
being there - and for being the one the bullet had been intended for.
And Mulder had had to leave all of them with his mother.
Teena Mulder meant well, but right now his children needed him more than he
ever had.
But he had been unable to resist the sinister invitation to meet this man
here. It promised
things. It promised that perhaps, he would find out the truth about what was
happening.
"You know why," the man said, taking a drag on his cigarette. Mulder drew
closer so he
could see the man's face in the shadows, but kept what he hoped was safe
distance.
"You did it, didn't you?" Mulder asked, trying to holdback the tears. "You
sent your
thugs… your stooges to kill her, didn't you?"
"Rather," the man began "It was Agent Scully who we intended to deal with,"
he stated
what Mulder already knew.
" My employees made a costly mistake," he finished, sucking back more
cigarette smoke
as if it was oxygen to him.
"And why the hell do you want me here? To rub it in? "Mulder asked, not
taking the
situation as well as his boss had the previous day. He was angry, and after
what transpired
today he no longer cared if he showed it.
"On the contrary," the man replied "We have made a grave error. Your wife
was not to be
harmed, but the fact that she resembles Agent Scully on many accounts made
it difficult
for us… you really couldn't have made your feelings for agent Scully more
obvious."
There was a hint of a smile on the lips, but the eyes remained cold and
unfeeling.
"If you go near Scully," Mulder said "I will personally hunt you down and
kill you. I'll kill
you right now," He drew his gun.
"Please, Agent Mulder," the cigarette smoking man said. "Put your weapon
away. I've
come here to make a deal."
"What kind of deal?"
"I know this incident has sparked an intention in you…agent Scully, and
Skinner, to re
start your work on the X-Files."
Mulder fumed. How could he have known that? He and Scully had only briefly
discussed
it. Had they even voiced it out loud? Perhaps they had only thought about
it.
Ah, but it made more sense now. Skinner had been thinking about it long
before they had.
Perhaps that was why the threat had gone to him before anyone else.
"I know you to well, Agent Mulder," his shadowy friend said "And the deal I
have come
to offer you is this: stay away from the X-Files. Stay away from us."
"And what's my part of the deal?"
"If you follow your part of the bargain, nobody will come after your family.
Think of your
children, Agent Mulder."
This was bullshit.
"That sounds like a pretty one-sided deal to me," Mulder said angrily. But
somewhere in
his heart, his resolve was beaten. Going after the truth would be too much
of a risk to his
children now, and this man was making that painfully clear.
"It's entirely up to you" he said, inhaling more of the acrid smoke from
his cigarette.
Yeah, sure it was.
"Whatever your decision, I'll find out somehow."
The man turned to leave then, disappearing into the shadows. Mulder watched
him go,
fingering his gun nervously, and vaguely wondering what happened to this
evil being as he
melted into the darkness.
It would only take one shot…
But they would know, and that would be the end… of everything.
Mulder gave a resigned sigh and turned to leave.
XX
"You talked to him?" Scully asked, her expression one of shock Mulder had
come away
from the meeting unscathed.
Mulder nodded, his head hung in shame and defeat as he described the meeting
to Scully.
The police had ruled the incident a break & enter gone wrong. They had found
no
fingerprints, nor anything else to identify the killer, and had assumed that
Carol had simply
surprised a burglar who didn't want to be surprised.
And had Mulder tried to implicate the guilty parties, they would have
thought him insane.
Scully was the only person here now that knew the truth, and their
conviction alone would
do no good. Not after what had been said to him in the parking lot.
Now he and Scully sat together on his mother's living room couch.
Upstairs somewhere, Sam and Kathy slept. They had cried and cried and
cried... and
demanded that their daddy was wrong, that he was a liar, and that mommy was
just away
and she would be back any day. Mulder had not fought with them. They had
fallen asleep
somewhere in the midst of that argument and he was grateful that for a few
hours at least,
things would be peaceful for them.
His mother had been a big help. Teena had kindly taken all four of them in,
for none of
them wished to spend the night in the house where Carol had been killed.
Perhaps they would never go back. Mulder couldn't imagine himself ever
living there
again.
"Mulder… that's insane… how can he expect you to not go after them?" Scully
said,
replying to something that had left Mulder's thoughts some time before.
"He threatened my kids, Scully," Mulder replied.
Scully fell silent.
Mulder was right, though it had not occurred to her. In a round about way,
the bastard
had threatened his kids. No, there was nothing roundabout in his words.
"Think about
your children," was pretty damn clear.
"What can we do, Scully?" Mulder suddenly asked. "Part of me wants to bring
this man
down, but I can't. I don't want my children harmed. I don't want him to go
after you. He
will you know, if I try anything. He'll go after everything important to me.
"
"Do what's best for the people you love," Scully said softly, taking
Mulder's hand,. her
fingers tiny and pale against his skin.
"I thought that's what I was doing all along, Scully. Dammit,, I've been
torn throughout
this whole thing ,trying to make sure I did what was right, that I didn't
hurt anyone… and
look how it ended up! My wife is dead, Scully! My girls are going to grow up
without
their mother and I can't help but feel like it's all my fault."
"It's not your fault," Scully said softly. "Mulder, if it's anyone's fault
it's mine. They meant
to kill me! And I have nothing left anymore, my life is a shell of what it
used to be. It
should have been me they killed..."
Shut up Scully," Mulder said. He wouldn't listen to this anymore. "It
shouldn't have been
anyone."
There was silence for a moment, as Mulder and Scully pondered those words
It shouldn't have been anyone.
And he was right.
It was nobody's fault. Carol's death was wrong, but the only person at fault
for it was the
people who had orchestrated it. Nobody else.
"what are we going to do?" Scully asked, some part of her still desiring to
seek justice
though she had no way how to go about it.
"What you told me to do, Scully. What's best for the people I care about. I
can't let my
own selfish quests for revenge get in the way of my family. It's not fair to
my kids."
"It feels like giving in to them…" Scully mused, echoing Mulder's own
feelings.
"I know," he said. "But we have to…" he paused, as if searching for words.
"Swallow our pride and do what's right." Scully finished.
"Yes," Mulder replied. "But maybe someday… we can bring them to justice."
Scully nodded. "Someday… when I can walk," she added with a smile
..Mulder smiled back, sadly, his eyes brimming with tears.
And that was it for him. All of the tears he had been holding in since that
afternoon came
out.
He leaned forward and buried his head in Scully's lap, no longer desiring to
hold the tears
back. He cried until his body could no longer take it… Until every fibre of
him ached, and
the tears would not come anymore.
And the whole time, Scully sat silentley, stroking his hair, acting as his
rock as she always
had in the past.
"Don't leave me Scully," he whispered, his voice muffled against her lap.
"Never again .
Please."
"I won't," Scully replied. Her voice was strong and determined.
"I promise."
----
My hands are tied
My body bruised
I've got nothing to win
I've got nothing left to lose….
I can't live
With or without you
THE END
Yes, a sequel is in progress!
Feedback??????????? invisigoth421@hotmail.com
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