From: J. Manners To: Subject: [XFNC17ff]Forever Date: Friday, December 21, 2001 9:52 AM Hi all, This is my first ever fanfic and first ever post so I am SO SORRY if it isn't in the right format / isn't the right column length etc. I really did try to do everything right. "Forever." by J. Manners arabee@iprimus.com.au December 2001 SUMMARY: True madness is in the knowledge of what should have been... After "Je Souhaite". This could be considered a bit depressing folks. CLASSIFICATION / RATING: V MSR NC-17 (I think) DISCLAIMER: The characters of Dana Scully, Fox Mulder, A.D. Skinner, The Lone Gunman and Krycek are not mine, they belong to the genius of C. Carter and his affiliates. Damn it. AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is my first go at fan-fic, so any and all feedback is muchly appreciated. Let me know about links / archs etc. ************************************************ ... and my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted - nevermore. E. A. P. ************************************************ Scully flopped down onto the hotel couch, exhausted. It was the third time this month the two agents had flown across country on assignment and Scully was at the end of her endurance. It felt like she hadn't slept in a week; her body ached, each new day a little worse than the last. She wasn't sure why, probably just the flu - but she was tired, irritable and damn well sick of practically everything except the thought of a hot bath and bed. Most of her frustrations were unleashed on Mulder, the argument in the car playing back in her mind like a bad song, repeating endlessly as the blood pounded in her temples. Scully wanted to go in and explain, but how could she, when she wasn't even sure herself? She wasn't mad at Mulder, well not for any good reason anyway - But there was a strange, inexplicable disquiet that seemed to shroud her, like a weighted shadow following close, drawing her into its darkness. Scully glanced at the door separating the two rooms. It was still locked. She debated opening it, but apart from the fact she had no energy to reach it, part of her was glad. Let him stay on his side, Scully was in no mood for debating the quadrangle of the universe tonight. She dragged herself up and into the bathroom, steam filling the small room as hot, foaming water rose in the tub. Scully stripped down, noting with distaste the cut on her face reflected by the mirror. She had no idea where it came from, hadn't even realized it was there until Mulder pointed it out to her a few days ago. At least it was healing well. She turned away, sighing a deep breath of relief as the warm bathwater soothed her aching body. Scully jerked awake. The water was cooling around her, the light from the small window faded to near night. She had no idea what had woken her and so listened for sounds of Mulder, but nothing came. Chastising herself for falling asleep in the bath, something she hadn't done since childhood, Scully rose reluctantly and drained the tub. She took her time dressing, appreciating the breeze of the air-conditioner on her bare skin. The sensation of its touch was a rare and unfamiliar pleasure which she savored, yet resented for the thoughts it raised in her foggy mind. It was only a substitute. She pulled on her pajamas and collapsed into bed, trying to ignore the dull ache in her chest, descending into a haunted sleep that tugged an unconscious foreboding. The crash filled the room, blasting into her mind and wrenching Scully from slumber for the second time that night. She sat bolt upright, hand reaching out automatically for her pistol, eyes blurred and straining to identify the image in front of her. "Scully?" The voice was urgent, anxious. It was Mulder's. "Scully, what is it? What's wrong?" He lowered his weapon and reached out to her, quickly scanning the room for the cause of her summoning. Scully pulled away, confused, and practically brained herself on the bed head. "Mulder?" She blinked, looking behind him to the door hanging, broken, from its hinges. "What the hell are you doing?" He sat beside her, eyes searching her own. "What happened? Are you alright?" She pulled herself into a more balanced position, backing further from his gaze. "Of course I'm alright," she snapped. "What do you mean what happened? Apart from you crashing through my door." She was so tired she wanted to slap him and didn't care when she heard the whine in her voice. "I was asleep Mulder." Mulder stared at her, confused. "You were screaming," he said. "It sounded like someone was throttling you." He reached out and touched her neck, tilting her head to the side, searching for signs of attack. His hand lingered only a moment before a slight twitch in Scully's cheek caused its retreat. "The door was locked. I thought." "Mulder. I don't. what are you talking about? I was asleep." The words tumbled out, as confused in tone as she was in thought. "I didn't call for you." She rubbed at her eyes, willing them to come into focus. Mulder looked bewildered, then concerned. He spoke softly, intently. "I know what I heard Scully." The gravity in his voice halted her. For the first time Scully really looked at him, apprehension creeping upon her, shivering up her spine. The alarm in his eyes was unmistakable - she had no doubt he was telling the truth. But she also had no idea what on earth he was talking about. She wracked her brain in an attempt to conjure her dreams, draw them from sub-conscious thought into the night air - but none came. Instinctively, she pulled into herself, blocking the thoughts from her partner, distrustful of her own face. She shrugged. "Well, I don't know what to tell you Mulder. I'm fine." Mulder sat back, unconvinced. He could see Scully honestly had no idea what had happened. He could also see he'd scared the crap out her, both by his sudden entry and his reason for doing so. Not that she'd ever admit it. For all the trust they had gained, all the understanding they treasured, there were some things that lingered beyond reach. Mulder watched silently while her face set in the usual 'You can't see into me and I'm not going to let you try' expression, and stifled a sigh. Sometimes Scully really drove him nuts. Part of him wanted to shove that pretty little face straight back down into the pillow and slam what was left of the door on his way out. But he couldn't, and knew he never would. Instead he sat, waiting while Scully figured out something to say that would send him away, without recourse, without any admission of her vulnerability. Without him having to belie his own. "Mulder, I really am fine," she said. "I don't know what you think you heard, but it wasn't me." Scully flashed one of her drop 'em dead grins, not entirely credible, but a good attempt. "You sure you haven't got a video on in there?" In spite of himself, Mulder smiled. She'd done it again. "No," he said, "You think I'd be in here if there were cable next door?" Scully raised an eyebrow. Without thinking he brushed a hair from her eye, "You sure you're okay? Scully smiled with far more conviction than she felt. "Mulder, I'm fine." "Okay." he answered. "If you say so." Mulder retreated to the doorway, "But I'm leaving this open." Scully snorted softly in appreciation. Like there was a choice. As Mulder's form disappeared behind the frame, Scully almost called out, called him back. Back to wrap her in his arms and lie with her, to tell her everything was alright and drive out the dread that flowed through her veins. Instead she fell back, head resting lightly on the pillow and again tried to figure out what the hell had just happened. She usually remembered her dreams, and she almost never had nightmares, at least not ones that would make her scream out like Mulder claimed. But it was all blurred, revealing nothing. Against her will Scully felt her eyes began to close and in spite of her efforts to resist, sleep slowly pulled her into its veiled lair. Her last vision was that of the battered doorway and the edge of the bed where her partner rested. Farther than just a room away. Mulder waited, listening intently for the sound of sleeping Dana Scully. He always knew the moment she fell asleep and this time - like so many others - he returned to her room and took up watch on the couch. His heartbeat still hadn't returned to normal. That scream. It was unlike anything he'd ever heard before. Scully had called for him in the past. Those too, he remembered vividly. In a way, they delivered him a kind of selfish comfort. But not tonight. The scream had shattered him. Mulder hadn't shown it to her, hadn't let her see the depth of its effect. But anything, real or imagined that could make Scully scream like that - as if her very soul was being torn from her - it scored a cut into his heart deeper than he knew possible. Something was definitely wrong. Regardless of her denials, Scully's actions and manner over the past week had gradually grown more and more hostile. The teasing, comfortable companionship the pair had grown into over the years had become tense, fragile. She hadn't mentioned a reason for it and Mulder, for the life of him couldn't think of one, so nothing had been said. But now Mulder was sure this was no "You forgot my birthday" pissed off Scully. Not after hearing that scream. He settled as best he could into the sofa, eyes coming to rest on her face. It seemed troubled, tired, as if shouldering a burden. Mulder knew there was no point interrogating for an answer, in fact after seeing her tonight, he was fairly convinced Scully didn't know it herself. She had been irritable lately. Tired. The argument in the car had surprised him, more then angered. They always scuffled over cases. He knew Scully thought this one frivolous - more "lights and flying-saucers" crap. But never before had she called him a "hub-cap chasing pot case", sworn, thrown the map in his face, (which, seeing as he was driving, was a pretty irrational thing to do in itself) ripped on the handbrake and stormed out of the car. Mulder sat in stunned silence for a full minute before running after her. The following discussion had been incongruous to say the least, but in the end she threw her hands in the air, stormed back to the car, plonked down in the driver's seat and told him not to say another word or she was going home. Later, she had apologized, saying she was just hungry and tired, before retreating into her room. But it wasn't the case that was bothering her. Mulder sighed. Sometimes this game they played seemed endless, an inane cat and mouse chase in which each of them swapped roles seemingly at will. He was closer to Scully than any other human being in the world. And Mulder knew she felt the same way about him. So why was it always so damned hard? Admittedly, he knew that most of the time they enjoyed the charade. It was somehow easier, like following a chartered course rather than scouting one's way in serendipity. In the beginning it was acted without thought, neither of them realizing the depth of their feelings. But recently, within the last few years especially, both the agents had come to the unspoken knowledge that there could never be anyone else. It was impossible to even imagine, life as a separate being, without the other existing beside. But it wasn't safe to speak of, wasn't even safe to think too much about. Mulder grinned sardonically, for two people who spent their lives searching for the truth, it was a pretty sad reality. His eyelids drooped and Mulder blinked them open. Not yet. He wanted to be sure the dream wasn't going to reoccur. He glanced again at Scully's face - and immediately rushed to her side. Scully was breathing heavily, lips moving in unspoken words. Her brow creased and jaw flexed, as if to brace against some kind of stabbing pain. Her hand reached up, pushing at the pillow, clenching into a fist. She moaned, twisting her head back and forth, her breath rasping and choking the murmur in her in her throat. "No. No. Mulder. I can't." Mulder kneeled beside her, whispered his presence, held the hand that reached out, grasping for help. Her words came louder, desperate, shaking. "Oh, God. Oh my God. No! Please! Mulder! Mulder I need you! MULDER!" Her next words were lost in a scream - the same heart wrenching, blood-curdling howl that had brought Mulder crashing through a solid wooden door. He wrapped his hands around her face, calling to her, panic rising into his throat. "Scully? Scully! Wake up. Wake up! I'm right here. Scully!" Her eyelids rose and fell, he could see she was trying to pull herself out, haul herself up from whatever hands were grasping at her, holding her in this nightmare sleep. Again Mulder called to her. "Come on, Scully. That's the girl. Scully! WAKE UP!" With a violent jolt, she was awake. Her eyes shone, wild with terror and her hand shot out and seized his shoulder. She shook uncontrollably, her face frozen in disbelieving horror, still trapped in her solitary fear. Her mouth moved, but the words wouldn't come. Mulder's hand caressed her face and he searched Scully's eyes, hunting for a sign of his partner. "Scully?" At the sound of his voice the silence in her broke, a sob forced its way from her throat and her eyes welled with tears. "Mulder," she begged, "Mulder help me." Instantly and without thought, Mulder pulled her into his arms, wrapping his body around hers as it wracked with uncontrollable sobs. Rocking her back and forth he stroked her hair, kissing her forehead, "It's okay Scully. " He whispered, trying to restrain the confusion in his voice. "I'm here, I'm right here. Everything's alright. Shh. You're safe, I've got you." She lay, weeping within his arms, face pressed against his chest, clinging to him with a helplessness that, from her, Mulder had never believed possible. He held her close for what seemed an eternity, all the time sick with unspoken fear. Finally, her sobs quieted, the gasping eased to shaking breaths and Scully lay quietly against him. After a time, Mulder brushed the hair gently from her face, pulling his body back just enough so he could look at her, "Scully?" She looked up at him, the sight alone nearly broke his heart. Scully looked completely drained of all strength, her eyes dull and flickering. She cast them down, away. "I'm sorry." she said. Mulder's fingers silenced her before the words were completed. "Don't." He cupped her chin in his hand, forced her to look at him. "Scully, what's wrong? What's happened to you?" Her brow furrowed, struggling with the answer. Her head shook slightly, "I don't know," she whispered. "I can't see it, I can't." She hesitated and her body shuddered, "Cold." Mulder felt her neck, "No, Scully. If anything you're burning up." "No," she answered. "Not here." Suddenly she lurched forward, gagging as sickness rose in her throat. She stumbled up and pushed past Mulder, only just making into the bathroom before throwing up into the bowl. He ran after her but she held up her hand, holding him away, silently begging his retreat. He turned and stood at the bathroom door. "Scully? Scully what the hell's going on?" For a few seconds all he could hear was heaving, finally the toilet flushed and he could hear the tap water running. "Let me call you a doctor." "No, Mulder. I'm fine," she lied. Panic was starting to rise in her chest. She could see things now, flashes of images too blurred to comprehend. There were men, lights. But it was not like the other time, the last time. These were familiar somehow. But the pain.. Scully splashed the water on her face, rinsed her mouth. What was happening to her? Why couldn't she remember? Is that was doing? Remembering? She leaned over the sink, letting the cool water run over her hands and neck. Her arms shook with exhaustion and she stared at them, transfixed. They shouldn't be doing that. There was no reason for them to be doing that. Scully searched frantically in her mind, trying to somehow cease the overwhelming terror flowing through her veins. It wasn't logical to be afraid of your own body. It wasn't rational. She glanced at herself in the mirror, from her lowered angle she could see down her nightshirt, her bra strap hanging loosely to one side. For a moment she didn't take in what she saw, didn't recognize the figure as her own. "Oh my God." Mulder turned instinctively at her words and entered the bathroom. "What is it?" Without answering, fixated on the mirror, Scully slowly straightened and unbuttoned her nightshirt. Mulder stared, unable to move, feeling as if someone had shot him in the chest. Scully was covered with signs of abuse. Her entire body was blotched with bruises, burn marks scored across her back, cuts sliced below her collarbone. She raised a hand, touching the marks that she hadn't even seen only two hours ago. Mulder stared at her in disbelief. "Oh God Scully, why didn't you tell me?" She shook her head, unable to believe the words she was about to speak. "Scully?", he demanded. "Why didn't you *tell* me?" A tear fell from her eye, running slowly down her cheek as she answered, barely louder than a whisper. "I didn't know Mulder," she said. "I didn't know." ************************************************ Mulder moved in behind Scully, barely able to control the anger crushing his chest, struggling to steady his voice. "What do you mean you didn't know?" He touched the wounds on her back, hand trembling. "Scully, some of these are days old. How could you. I can't believe." Scully swung around, eyes flashing, "You can't believe?" she yelled. "You can't believe?" She pushed past him, head spinning, somehow trying to run from an impossible reality. "Do you think I'm lying to you? You think I'm hiding this from you?" He followed quickly after her, "No, Scully. I didn't mean." "What's happening to me Mulder?!" Scully yelled. "What the hell is happening to me?!" He had no chance to reply. Suddenly she was doubled over, clutching her stomach in pain, a muffled cry pushing out from clenched teeth. Mulder rushed in, catching her as she fell to the ground, scooping her up onto the bed as her nails bit into his flesh. Without letting go, he grabbed his phone and hit the #2. "This is Federal Agent Fox Mulder, I have an agent down. I need an EMT to Copal Hotel, West Street Virginia. Now!" He threw down the phone and turned back to Scully, who was barely conscious, mumbling catches of sentences, eyes wandering without focus. Stroking her face, Mulder spoke to her, trying to keep her with him, to keep her awake, while at the same time trying to understand the gibberish flowing from her mouth. "Mulder. Taking me. Cold. Oh God it hurts. Mulder. I won't tell them. they think I don't know. Remember. Remember. Mulder, help me.." He spoke to her, rocking her in his arms, constantly whispering reassurances. "Shh, Scully. Shh. It's okay, everything's gonna be okay. I'm here Scully. You're safe. I'm here." But inside a voice screamed, and Mulder knew the truth. Scully was not safe. She was not safe at all. ************************************************ Mulder sat outside the ER, head in hands, eyes closed. It had been over two hours since they'd taken Scully away. They hadn't known what was wrong with her. The doctors had asked him, pummeled him with questions - none of which he could answer. Mulder felt helpless. Watching her leave on the gurney he had wondered if he would never see her again. He bit down hard on his lip, desperately trying to stop the tears welling in his eyes. He rocked back, hitting his head against the wall, anything to dull the screams, anything to stop the despair crushing his chest. She had called for him, over and over. Called out that she needed him, needed him to stop the pain. He placed his hands over his ears, pushing against his skull, clenching his jaw. His fingers closed around the cross tucked into his hand, it had fallen from her when they put the collar on. He felt it cutting into his hand and his thoughts turned to the heavens. 'Don't you do this to her, so help me. She believes in you. She has faith." He closed his hand tighter, almost relieved in feeling the lesser pain. 'What more do you want?' "Agent Mulder?" The voice intruded, jerking his attention. "Agent Mulder, are you talking to me?" A male nurse stood a few feet away, though the haze Mulder could barely see him. He shook his head, no. He hadn't even realized he was talking out loud. Suddenly, the doors swung open at the end of the hall. Scully's Doctor. Mulder stood up quickly, "How is she?" He touched Mulder's sleeve, "Perhaps you should sit dow." "Tell me!" he demanded. The Doctor swallowed. "We aren't sure what happened. Her vitals were very weak, there was hemorrhaging - massive blood loss. We tried everything we could. "What are you saying?" Mulder demanded "You need blood? What do you have to do? What." The Doctor interrupted him, "She's dead Agent Mulder. I'm sorry. Agent Scully is dead." Mulder's heart stopped. Involuntarily, his legs gave way and he collapsed against the seat. Dead? The word blasted into him, repeating itself again and again like a jackhammer ramming in his skull. His head shook slowly. "No." The words fell from his mouth without bidding. "No. She can't be." Tears welled in his eyes and flowed freely down his face, unchecked, unnoticed. He couldn't think, couldn't feel, couldn't breathe. Choking, he dug his hands into the wood of the chair, hands white and shaking with the force of their pressure. "No. No! NO!" "I'm sorry Agent Mulder. We did everything we could. We don't even know what caused her condition. There's nothing you could have done." Without warning, Mulder exploded. Leaping up he snatched the Doctor by the throat and lifted him bodily, throwing him back against the wall, "You go back in there!" he screamed. "You go in there and fucking bring her back! You hear me? Bring her fucking back!" He crushed his hands against the Doctors throat, determined to wring the life out of him, to destroy whoever or whatever was responsible for this impossible truth. Instantly Mulder was grabbed from behind and thrown to the floor. Two security guards lay upon him, twisting his arms across his back, forcing him into the ground. "Let go of me!" Mulder screamed, every rational part of him having perished with the words that echoed endlessly in his mind. "Let go of me! Bring her back you bastard! Bring her back! Scully! Scully come back God damn you! Don' t leave me! NO!" He felt a jab in his leg and twisted himself around, throwing the guards' off balance and giving himself momentary freedom. Unleashed, Mulder lashed out, collecting an orderly and sending him flying. Again the security officers closed in, but Mulder was out of control. He grabbed a guard and knocked him down, his hands instantly on the other's throat, screaming incoherently as the world crumbled around him. Suddenly Mulder's legs gave way, powerless and heavy. The room spun, first in one direction then another - before everything went black. Mulder's last thought was one of hope - maybe he was dying too. ************************************************ "Muullderrr." Scully's whine was even worse than usual. "Come on, there is no way. The Pillsbury Doughboy could never take The Muffin Man in an arm wrestle. He's a fake character, he doesn't exist. The Muffin Man wins on mortality alone." They were sitting in his apartment, watching a rerun of Dracula. Mulder nearly spat his soda across the room, "Mortal Muffin Man? Scully you've been overdoing it with the popcorn." She rewarded him with a raised eyebrow. "I'm not the one with double butter running down my chin." Mulder raised a hand, then realized she was joking. Damn it. "But if he was real Scully, then I'd be right, wouldn't I? Pillsbury Doughboy would kick ass. C'mon, be a man, admit it." She smiled, her blue eyes sparkling. "Well then that ends it," she said. "If I were to pretend I was a man, then I can't admit to being wrong. It's a genetic impossibility." Mulder glared. God he loved her. Scully glared back at him, eyes declaring that yes, she loved him too, not even realizing she was saying it, knowing to her very soul that she was. "Agent Mulder?" The voice was not hers, it fell upon him, pushing at his thoughts. "Agent Mulder? Wake up. Agent Mulder!" Mulder opened his eyes and instantly she was gone. Grief flooded him and tears welled, spilling onto his face before he had taken his first conscious breath. A.D. Skinner towered above him, face drawn, sorrowful. "I'm sorry Mulder." He didn't answer, just turned his head and gazed blankly at the white wall. Mulder didn't really care if anyone was sorry. He didn't care about anything. Skinner spoke again. "It's been over two weeks now Mulder. It's time you got out of here. I'm discharging you." Again he remained silent. Fat chance. They'd tried that last week and just for the heck of it Mulder broke the orderly's jaw. The restraints had been taken off a few days ago, but still no one came near him. And that was just the way he wanted it. He glanced at Skinner, his nose was too straight anyway. Skinner tried again. "I missed you at Scully's funeral. We all did." Involuntarily, Mulder's jaw clenched. Scully's funeral. He'd missed Scully 's funeral. Part of him would never forgive himself for that, but Mulder knew there was no way he would have made it through a minute of it. Hell he could hardly even stand up to pee. He kept his face to the wall, listening out for the sound of Scully's voice, waiting for her to take him away. Skinner was shocked at Mulder's condition. He had only been to the hospital once since Scully's death, while Mulder was still under sedation. He looked half dead then, as now. Skinner too, had suffered in the loss of Agent Scully. Part of him had loved her, anyone who knew Scully even slightly couldn't help it. And he knew her partner had been in love with her, in fact Skinner probably knew the truth before either of them. But he hadn't realized to what extent, to what profundity. Until now he didn't even believe this kind of suffering was possible. Skinner reached down to grab Mulder's arm, damned if he was going to lose another friend, sure that if Mulder didn't get up now, he might never get up at all. "Come on, Mulder," he ordered. "Let's go." Mulder felt the touch on his skin and a flash of fury blazed through him. Without thought or warning he flew up from the bed and struck out. The next second he was down on his hands and knees, the back of his head burning from where Skinner had stayed the attack and dropped Mulder like a rock. "Agent Mulder, that's enough." Skinner stood back, surprised but not angered, and waited for him to rise. But Mulder wasn't finished. Swinging up, he charged the A.D., shoving him back against the wall and slamming a fist into his side. But again Skinner moved away, twisting Mulder's arm, pushing him face first into the wall and holding him there, restraining him while he commanded, "Listen to me Mulder, this isn't going to work! Do you hear me? Acting like an ass is not going to help you! You think if you beat up enough people it'll somehow bring her back? You think if you destroy your career and your life it'll somehow make up for losing her? Grow up! It doesn't work that way. You of all people should understand that." Mulder glowered, struggling against the hold. "Let go of me!" Skinner gave him one last shove against the wall for good measure, "Fine! You wanna go again?" He stood back and waited calmly, but his eyes shone, having seen for himself just how much Mulder was suffering. It pained him greatly to have to treat his friend this way. Mulder swung around, his fury unabated, all reasoning consumed with guilt and anguish. Blindly he ran forward, straight into a knock out belt on the cheekbone. It sent him down, but just as quickly he leapt up and charged. Skinner belted him again, and again, and again. Finally, after the eighth try, Mulder could no longer rise. He kneeled, bleeding on the floor, head bowed and gasping for air. Skinner stood unscathed, rubbing his hand, in the center of the room. "Are you happy now?" he asked. "You feel better?" He walked over to where Mulder lay and squatted down beside him. "I'm not going to kill you Mulder, regardless of how much you might want me to." He sighed, not even sure if Mulder could hear what he was saying. "You think this is what she would've wanted? You think Scully would be happy seeing you here, like this? You better pull yourself out of that place you're in, while you still can. Don't dishonor her Mulder." He rose and walked to the door, turning at the last moment to glance at the broken man still gasping on the floor. This time, when he spoke there was a catch in his voice, "It' s not your fault Mulder." Skinner motioned to the guard, "Let me know when you wanna get out of here." The door banged closed behind him. Mulder sat on the floor, and bled. ************************************************ The room was dark. Mulder lay, staring into the shadows and replayed their last moments together over and over in his mind. He closed his eyes, remembering how it felt to hold her, her heart beating against his, feeling - for the first time - Scully surrender her fear to him. Trusting him absolutely. And he had failed her. Mulder ran his tongue across his lips. He had kissed her. Before they pulled her away from him toward the surgery he had leaned over her, stroked her face one last time and promised her she would be safe, that she would be with him again. Then he kissed her, softly, gently, lingering against her for as long as he dared. Mulder thought he saw her look at him then, her deep blue eyes staring into his own with such love, such trust. And he had failed her. A dull thud from his side pushed into his thoughts. Mulder ignored it. Skinner had come to him again the day before, had ordered him to get up. But Mulder hadn't moved. He wasn't even sure anyone had really been there. The drip in his arm flowed freely, providing him with the fluids and glucose he no longer bothered to consume. Scully's mother had come. Her tears fell unchecked. He couldn't remember much, in a haze of drugged delirium. Part of him had wanted to comfort her, to reach out and beg her forgiveness - but he couldn't move, couldn't think. Because if he thought at all then he would think of Scully. See her before him, screaming out for him while he stood and did nothing. So he hadn't tried, allowing the drugs to take him away. The Lone Gunmen had come. They too, had tried to reach him, tried to get him to react, but again it seemed like a strange dream to Mulder. Distant. Unreal. From the corner of his eye he noticed movement. Someone was replacing the drip bag. Giving him another injection. They weren't giving him sedatives this time, he noticed. Oh hell. "Mulder get up." The voice drifted in and Mulder felt a stab of familiar anger flare in his chest. He knew that voice. He hated that voice. It spoke again. "I said, get up." Instantly, Mulder was shot from sub-consciousness into complete, violent lucidity. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, pulsing into his heart, rushing the drug into every inch of his being. He struggled and suddenly realized he was back in the restraints. Krycek smiled. "A little more alert now, Agent Mulder?" He shook his head in mock pity as Mulder fought against the ties, secured without resistance only a few moments ago. "You really are a sorry son of a bitch, you know that?" Mulder writhed against the restraints, spitting out the words in crazed vehemence. "You fucking bastard! I'm gonna kill you!" "Of course you are." Krycek calmly replaced the vial in his jacket pocket. "But that won't bring Scully back now will it?" He grinned again, almost laughing at the sight of an enraged Mulder, helpless to do anything but struggle in vain. "I'll tell you," he said, "I have enjoyed these past few weeks. I mean, I knew you two were close but. God, if I'd known you'd take it this badly, I'd have done it years ago." He tilted his head, moving in closer, whispering. "She must've been one hell of a good fuck." The bed practically broke in two as Mulder lurched forward, screaming in arrant fury as he desperately tried to rip free and break every bone in Krycek's body. "You fucking bastard I'm gonna kill you! You're dead, do you hear me? I'll kill you!" Krycek grabbed a pillow and shoved it over Mulder's face, pushing down to dull the noise. "You can yell all you want Mulder, it isn't doing you any good," he said. "But you know, the sooner you shut up the sooner we can get out of here." He paused, knowing what effect his next words were going to have. "Unless, of course, you don't want to go and save Scully's life." The pillow was withdrawn at the instantaneous silence. Krycek grinned. "You really thought she was dead didn't you?" ************************************************ Scully lay, shaking with fear and cold. She couldn't remember how long she' d been down here, in this black cell. If felt like years, but she knew it was probably only a few weeks. She'd given up hoping for Mulder to come a long time ago, when they told her he thought she was dead. And now laying in this place, frozen and beaten, stripped of her life, her dignity, her sanity - now Scully had simply given up hope. She remembered it all now. They had been there, in the surgery where Mulder had left her. She tried to scream to him, to tell him it was wrong, all wrong, but the words wouldn't come. And she heard the voice, the one from her dreams - only now she knew they weren't dreams at all - heard him telling them to take her back to the place. She remembered the first time they had come. It was night, she was sleeping when suddenly men were all over her, grabbing her, taping her hands and feet, covering her mouth, throwing a bag over her head so she couldn't see, lifting her and throwing her into the boot of a car. She remembered the room. Steel walls that rose high to a cement ceiling, steel tables covered with instruments, medical units, monitors and defibrillation panels, wave sensors and scanning wands, all looming in on her as she lay, strapped to a cold steel table. And she remembered him. He sat, calmly reclining in his chair and from the first, Scully could feel the inhumanity seeping out around him. No one spoke his name. Everything they did was at his bidding. Every blow, every cut, every stabbing sear of electricity slicing through her was from his command. There was no end to her depth of hatred toward him. That first night, like all the others, he had asked her, over and over again to divulge the code. The code she was given by her alien abductors. The code etched into the back of her memory so far that she never even knew it existed. She had told him, first furiously, then with frustration, and finally, once the real interrogation began, with desperate pleading that she did not know it. Did not know it and could not know it. No matter what they did or said, no matter how many times they beat her, no matter how many times they cut her and wracked her body with pain - she did not know what they were asking for. He smiled at her, as to a dim-witted child, a heartless smile that chilled Scully to the bone. "Oh you will," he promised. "Perhaps not tonight, perhaps not tomorrow night, but eventually. You will remember." With that he ordered them to give her an injection. The next day at work Mulder had commented on the cut across her cheek. Scully reached up, feeling the abrasive slice on the smooth of her face and winced. She hadn't noticed it that morning, had no idea of how it might have gotten there. Mulder had asked her if she was hurt anywhere else. She wasn't. Not that she could see. She was a little tired though. So she had gone home early. Mulder brought her some dinner and they ate it on the sofa, talking about nothing. She had walked him to the door. For the thousandth time he almost kissed her, but didn't. For the millionth time she almost kissed him, but didn't. And that night, as if it were the first time, they came and stole her again. Scully never remembered the abductions, never saw or felt the toll these nightly tortures were having on her body, not until she arrived at the room and was given the injection. She tried, oh how she had tried. Every night before they came and drove that final pain into her neck she repeated over and over in her mind. Tell Mulder. Remember. Tell Mulder. Remember. Remember. But she never did. "You wouldn't understand," the man told her, when Scully asked him how it was possible. "It's a technology far advanced of any you might comprehend." She was strapped to the chair and he wandered over to stand beside her, "But perhaps it will convince you that you do have the code I need, locked inside your pretty little head. Of course, theirs is a far greater science, stronger, it will take us longer to break through it. But once your immunity level begins to rise you'll soon start recollecting our meetings." He traced his fingers lightly across her face, "Eventually, the pain and fear will overcome your ability to lock it out. It will give us a gauge as to how long the rest should take." His fingers trailed down her neck, closing briefly around her throat and softly squeezed, pausing thoughtfully. "It wont be easy to get the code, that may take a little more than what we' re used to. You're stronger that the others. Quite surprisingly so." The hand closed tightly and Scully's eyes widened as she tried to control her panic. He smiled, "But it's such a wonderful weapon, fear. It can give us strength, it can weaken us like kittens." The hands released their hold and trailed further, outlining the curve of her breasts, "It can keep us alert, aware of every little sensation." With a sudden jerk he ripped open Scully' s nightshirt, and backhanded her roughly across the face. She cried out, tasting the blood inside her mouth. He swung his hand back, ready to strike again and smiled when Scully ducked her head, grimacing against the expected blow. But the hand lowered, again softly touching her face. His next words were whispered, his mouth so close to her own that Scully felt sick. "And it can drive us to insanity." He walked away from her, motioning casually with his hand for them to begin the routine again. Scully screamed at him, swearing inside out that she would kill him, calling him every satanic name she could conceive of, struggling furiously against the restraints that held her fast. But he didn 't even turn around, and soon her ravings were lost in screams of agony that rose high into the towering walls of steel. ************************************************ Mulder could feel the strength flowing back into his body. The roar of the engines pulsed into him, a constant reminder that they were getting closer. Closer to Scully. Scully. She was alive. Alive. Alive. The words repeated themselves over and over in his head. Scully was alive. It had taken only a few moments to exit the building. Krycek had Mulder's ID, cell' phone and gun, as well as his clothes. Mulder had simply dressed and walked away - not one of orderlies had tried to stop them. Krycek had explained little to Mulder, only telling him that he knew where Scully was. That she was alive, but probably wouldn't be for much longer. Mulder didn't trust him for a second, yet had little choice but to follow. All he cared about was getting her back home. Safe. Mulder had asked the obvious, questions. Why? Why was Krycek helping? How did Mulder know it wasn't a trick? How did he know Scully really was alive? Krycek answered, strangely sober. "I may be a bastard Mulder, but what they're doing to her..." He shook his head. "She can't give them what they want. She doesn't know." He handed Mulder a photograph, poor in quality, obviously taken from a surveillance camera. "But they'll kill her trying." Mulder looked at it and all the pain and fear he had felt that night in the hotel room came flooding back, as if a steak had been driven into his heart. Scully was alive, but just barely. She lay on a makeshift cot, tied to the wall, clinging the tattered remains of her clothes around her body. She was beaten, so badly Mulder was ill at the sight. and the look in her eyes. Even through the poor quality of the picture he could see it. Despair, hopelessness. Mulder knew that look, he had felt it inside him. And he knew that there was not much time. So as the plane brought them nearer to their destination, Mulder sat holding a cross and repeated the only words that might keep him sane until he found her. Alive. Alive. Scully was alive. ************************************************ He sat beside the table, manicured nails tapping softly on the steel. Scully was breathing heavily, recovering from the last round of "questions". She blinked away the tears brimming in her eyes, determined still, after all this time not to let him see her crying. She saved those tears for the black cell, saved them for Mulder who waited there for her. "You place too much faith in that partner of yours." His voice, always calm, always even, murmured beside her. "You know, he didn't even go to your funeral. Perhaps he doesn't care as deeply for you as you thought." Scully looked at him, disbelieving. He had said so many things to her, told so many lies, given her so many promises that she knew not to believe a word he spoke. At first she had refused to answer, defiantly remaining silent to all his attempts to communicate. But he had patiently persisted, holding her suffering, pushing, pushing at her with tranquil resolve until she broke. It had taken nearly three days, but now, weeks later, the thoughts flowed almost unbidden from her mouth, as if her ability to stop them becoming words had ceased to exist. She shook her head, speech slurring slightly in her fatigue. "You're lying." He smiled sympathetically, "Of course, you don't want to believe it. After all you've been through together. No, you're right, I am lying to you." His hand patted her own, "He must have told you a thousand times how much he loved you." Scully jerked her hand away, grimacing in pain as the restraint pulled on her wrist, grazing across her raw skin. "Don't touch me!" She glowered at him, hoping to send him to hell with wish alone, "You don't know anything, you don't know anything about me." He rose and walked to one of the machines humming beside her, affectionately tracing its rim with his fingers, "I know you scream for him. At night, in the darkness, here on the table. You scream and cry and beg, "Mulder! Help me Mulder! Help me! Help me!". But he never comes, does he? He never comes." He turned, shaking his head in mock compassion. "Is there anything quite so tragic as unrequited love?" Scully closed her eyes, he was trying to trick her, she had to stop listening. It wasn't true. Mulder did care for her. Scully knew it, knew it as completely as she knew her love for him. She had to stop listening. "Tell me, Agent Scully," he asked, "what is it about Mulder that a woman like you could love anyway? He's a dreamer, a fanatic. He believes in anything at all without the slightest shred of proof or substantiation. How is it that a dedicated medical scientist such as yourself ends up playing second fiddle to a basement Hoover boy? Surely you're worth more than that." "You wouldn't understand." The words fell from her mouth before she could stop them. "Well then help me Agent Scully." He quietly mocked her cries. "Help me." She shook her head slowly, trying to free it of the haze, trying to shake off the exhaustion taking over her body. But still the words flowed drowsily out of her, leaving her as doves fly from a cage. "Mulder isn't like other people. He sees the pain, sees the suffering and anguish, but he still believes. Believes in blind faith, in righteousness. In truth. He looks into the sky with such hope. After all he's experienced he still believes there's good in this world." She dragged her gaze toward him, pulled her eyes to look into his, determined to make her accusation clear. "It's not something you could ever hope to understand." He stared at her a long moment, seeing in her gaze the impenetrable resolve of complete faith, and his anger flared. "No," he admitted softly, "you're right. It isn't anything I would understand at all." And although Scully screamed in agony, she knew. Knew deep inside that there were things within her no one, not even the devil himself, could dare hope to thieve. ************************************************ The number rolled around in Scully's head, like a marble in a teacup, lingering just behind her lips, tucked into a safe place. It was the only power she had left, and it would follow her to the grave. She was still in the room. Exhaustion and hopelessness leached through her body, numbness had taken over from pain long ago. She was having trouble seeing, but no longer cared. He was there, voice droning in her ears, asking the question, repeating over and over again. But Scully was finished. Finished trying to fight, finished trying to stay alive. She smiled, knowing thankfully the end was near. Goodbye Mulder. We'll meet again, I know that now. I love you. ************************************************ "You told me it would only take a few weeks, it's been nearly five. Yet still no answer." "I don't understand, she should have broken by now." "Well, it matters little. It's been decided. Think on the bright side, perhaps she never knew." "They all knew, they all remembered. I just need some more time." "I'm afraid that's not possible." "One more week! It's all I ask! She's breaking, I'm almost there." "She's already broken! There's nothing more you can do. You've failed." His voice grew fearful, "No. please wait. Let me try again. one more chance." "There are no more chances. Time is not on our side." Smoke hovered around the two men, wafting low. There was a small silence, then his voice began again, stammering, begging. "No. no. Please I just need." The gunshot shattered the air, reverberating against the walls. Scully heard the familiar voice, but it was far away, far away. "Leave her. Someone will find her, eventually." "Her vitals are dangerously low." "Well then she'll be dead, wont she?" CGB Spender walked over to Scully, silently watching, sure that some part of her fried brain was still registering. He leaned in closer, smoke floating over her face. "Well done Agent Scully. Well done." ************************************************ Mulder threw himself against the door of the warehouse and it crashed open, the space casting a pale light into the long expanse of iron and steel. Without pausing he raced down the corridor, shining his torch on the crude map given him only a few moments ago. Krycek had thrown it at him, pushed Mulder out the door and nodded toward the silo at the end of the building. He then sped away. Mulder didn't bother to watch him go. He checked his phone, there was a signal, although weak. He had already called Skinner, yelling into the phone as he ran, ignoring the A.D.'s confused questions, sending the coordinates for a rescue team. Mulder squinted ahead, gasping, the corridor seemed endless. He ran as fast as his legs would move him, disregarding the burning in his lungs, searching frantically for the door which led to the silo, the door that led to Scully. All kinds of thoughts raced through his mind. Was she still alive? Was she hurt? Had she held on, waiting for him to come? Or was he too late. Mulder pushed the thoughts away, he wouldn't think of that now, couldn't think of that. Suddenly, the door was directly in front of him - he'd almost run into it in the darkness. "Scully!" he screamed, "Scully are you in there? He yanked on the door, noticed the padlock and fired, the metal splintering away as he burst into the room. "Scully!" She was slumped on a make-shift cot, naked, tied by her hands to the wall. He ran to her, ripping the bonds away, wrapping his hands around her face, "Scully? Scully come on, wake up!" He checked her pulse, it was weak. Her breath was barely audible, she made no movement to show she had heard him. He stared at her, she was completely ravaged, her body almost unrecognizable. Tears welled in his eyes as the thought pushed inside him. No one could survive this. No one could survive this. Mulder ripped off his jacket, wrapped it tightly around her frozen body, and lifted her into his arms. "It's okay Scully," he said. "Hold on. Hold on." ************************************************ He couldn't remember how they got here. Mulder sat beside the hospital bed, holding Scully's hand. It had been nearly twenty-four hours since their arrival and now she lay, her bruised and battered body finally clean and dressed. He lifted her hand, holding it to his cheek, feeling her warmth against him. But they were here. He stroked her face, brushing her hair behind her ear. All the emotion of the past few weeks was welling inside him, threatening to burst at any moment. All the anger, the resentment, the fear and longing, it all gathered in his chest so tightly that it was all he could do to contain it. He hadn't truly cried for her. The whole time he believed her perished, he had never opened his heart to grief and wept, never acknowledged the tears that fell as his own. "Scully," he begged, voice graveled and choking, "Scully don't leave me. I need you." His body convulsed, the sobs far stronger now than his will to contest them. "Please Scully. Don't leave me now. I love you." The words flowed from his mouth, bringing with them grief long overdue. Mulder pulled himself closer, holding her face in his hands and buying his own against her chest. "I love you Scully. Don't leave me. Don't leave me." And as the evening trailed in to night, Mulder lay with her, holding her close, finally able to say and feel what he had always known, finally able to let go the fear he had held within for nearly a decade. He fell asleep that way, head resting lightly against Scully's stomach, hand holding hand. When Mulder woke, it was almost midnight. He breathed deeply, feeling as though the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. He looked up at Scully, somehow knowing. "Scully," he whispered, "Wake up." She stirred slightly, lips murmuring. "Come on Scully. No more sleeping." Her eyes flickered briefly, she breathed a long slow breath. "That's it. That's my girl. Come on Scully. Come back to me." And slowly, carefully, as if unsure in their own action, her eyes opened. Scully woke to instant fear, having left sleep only to find hell so many times before. She sat up quickly, searching the room, ready to fight, to flee, to die. Then she saw Mulder. For a moment Scully remained frozen, uncertain she could believe what she was seeing. She had seen him so many times before, when he wasn't there. Mulder reached out to her, gently brushing away the tear falling down her cheek. His voice broke, "It's okay Scully. It's over. It's all over." At the touch, her face crumpled, relief and joy flooding every part of her soul. Her lips drew into a painful smile, "Mulder." She reached out to him, wanting every inch of herself to be held against his body. Safe. Mulder wrapped her in his arms and rocked her, unable to speak. He pulled back, holding her face in his hands, staring down lovingly into her exquisite eyes, his heart ready to burst. He couldn't breathe. "Scully." Their lips found each other. Lingering, unmoving, holding the moment for a lifetime. Scully fell into him, breathing into his mouth, feeling his warm breath flowing back into her own. Everything else in the world faded to black, nothing else mattered. All the moments before and after this *one* were lost, forgotten past. All that was real was here, now, in this eternal kiss. Finally, reluctantly, Mulder pulled away, needing to say the words. To say them out loud. "I love you Scully." Scully smiled, the taste of his tears still lingering on her lips. She placed her hands on his face, stroking his hair, tracing his lips, finally able to caress him as she had always yearned. "Mulder," she whispered, "you were the only memory I had that I could trust. The only one I knew was mine. Even when I lost myself." She fell into him again, lips pressed against his, tongue delving into his mouth. Mulder wrapped his arms around her, pressing himself against her, consuming every part of her. In this kiss they declared their love, released the bonds of fear that had held them apart. In this kiss they promised themselves each other. Exhausted, Scully finally drew away, rested her forehead against his chin. Mulder could feel her breath on his neck, her tears mingled with his, her heartbeat pounding against his own. He gently lowered her back onto the pillow, smiling as she looked up at him, eyes already closing. She murmured softly before drifting away, "Don't leave me. Love you." He smiled, whispering softly, "I'll never leave you again." So Scully slept her first peaceful sleep in what felt like an eternity, knowing that Mulder was watching and that he loved her. He loved her forever. ************************************************ The next morning, and every morning after that for the next week, when Scully opened her eyes the first thing she saw was Mulder. Sometimes he would be sitting close, gazing at her with his big, beautiful eyes. Sometimes he was still asleep, leaning forward in his chair, head resting against her as he softly breathed. He never left her. Her mother visited every day. Scully could see the ordeal had aged her and ached with the knowledge, understanding how much she had already suffered. The Lone Gunman came, their strange little quirks and mannerisms bringing a wide smile to her face just at the sight of them. A.D. Skinner came. He walked straight to her, clasping the hand she stretched out for him. She could see he was struggling to keep his composure, but his voice was strong as always, assured. "It's good to see you Agent Scully." She smiled. "It's good to be seen." Scully glanced at Mulder, noticing he had stepped back toward the far end of the room, uneasy. She turned to Skinner and saw the same look of awkwardness flicker across his eyes. Scully wondered, but didn't ask. The second day, she had noticed the bruises on Mulder's face and asked about them, but Mulder told her not to worry and avoided answering by kissing her. There was nothing she could say when he did that. Paralyzed by the moist heat, by his tongue which devoured her own, by the hand gripping the back of her head and pulling her closer, deeper into his mouth. No, there was nothing Scully could do about that but be kissed. Skinner stayed a while, and eventually Mulder drew closer, occasionally adding to the conversation, talking about nothing in particular. Finally, Skinner stood to leave. "I'll come by tomorrow," he promised, "you have a lot files to catch up on." He grinned, relieved to be able to joke once again. Scully smiled. "Gee, thanks." He turned to leave, then paused and spoke to Mulder. "Look after her." Mulder nodded, meeting his eye. Skinner smiled at Scully, realizing she would probably never know. "And you take care of him." She reached out and waggled the hand Mulder offered her affectionately. "I will." Skinner left. Scully looked up, curious. "What was all that about?" Mulder sat next to her and shook his head, "Nothing." The next hour was pretty damn predictable. ************************************************ Mulder reached out and helped Scully from the car. She walked unsteadily, still wobbly on her feet, hard to support seeing as there was nowhere painless to put his hands. "Hold on," he said, twisting the keys in the lock. The door swung open. Scully breathed in, smelling the familiar aroma of home. "Come on," Mulder placed his arm gently around her waist, "Let's sit you on the couch." "No wait, I have to go to the bathroom." Scully walked slowly, allowing herself to rest against Mulder as the shaking in her legs reminded her she still had a while before she could call herself healthy again. They walked, unthinking, to her en-suit, and she moved in front of Mulder to open the door to her room. He was startled by the sudden stop. Scully grabbed behind her for his arm, but Mulder was already there. "Scully?" He couldn't see her face, but he could feel the sudden trembling of her body, the increase of her breath as she pushed back against him. He hadn't thought. Quickly he turned her, moving as fast as he dared, steering her away from the room, away from the memories it conjured. He helped her to the couch, kneeling before her. "Scully, I'm sorry. I didn't even think." He knew they had taken her from here. It was one of the few things she told him, unable to talk about the ordeal itself, knowing it would be a long time before she ever could. Scully shook her head, "No, Mulder. It's my fault. I didn't think that would bother me. It's okay, I just need to sit a minute. I'm fine." He stared her, unconvinced. She was shaking uncontrollably, her eyes glazed, blinking as she tried to shed images he couldn't even imagine. Well damn it, he wasn't going to just sit there and let this happen, she couldn't play 'Brave Scully" over this one, not if he could help it. "C'mon," he said. "We're getting out of here." "Mulder." Scully protested as he scooped her up and whisked her out the door, "Mulder, what are you doing?" He ignored her, placing her in the car and jumping in the driver's seat. "Mulder, I can't run away from this. I need to go home. Where are we going?" He turned on the engine, "You don't have to face this now Scully. One day, but not now. I know a place we can go." Scully sighed, giving up. She had seen him like this before, there was little use in arguing. Anyway, she didn't have the strength. She lay back in the seat, eyes closing, unable to halt the sleep that moved upon her. She smiled slightly. Through the whole conversation it had been assumed, unspoken. Wherever Scully stayed, it didn't matter. Mulder was going with her. When she woke the scenery had changed. The buildings had disappeared. Green grass, flowing long and deep, wafted in all directions like a wavering sea. Mountains stretched high into the sky, their peaks concealed within the clouds. The sky was blue, the deepest blue she had ever seen. It was like heaven. Mulder noticed she was awake and smiled. "Hey sleepy head. Nearly there." Scully grinned back, quizzical. "Nearly where?" "I told you once that if I had a choice, if I could live anywhere I wanted, it would be in a place like this, miles from nowhere. Remember?" "Yeeess." "Well, a couple weeks later I came out here, saw all this and couldn't resist. It's right up there, at the end of that road. Five hundred acres, all mine." She looked toward the mountain and sloping valley where he was pointing, "You're kidding me? Really?" He nodded, smiling quite unlike Scully had seen before. "Really." The road wound up the hill, between the fur trees soaring high above, reaching to the sky. The house was nestled against the mountainside, enormous logs piled atop one another, strong and secure. Decking lay around three sides and looked down onto the open field, hap-hazardly crossed with streams and hillocks. It was longer than a regular house and the large windows opened the walls to sunlight, the light dancing off the glass as it shimmered in the evening hue. It was like a picture. They got out of the car, Mulder quickly running around to help her. He smiled down at her as they walked toward the porch, the joy in his face as real as the wind that whispered through the trees behind them. Scully stared at him, unable to find the words. He was so beautiful. "C'mon," he said, "wait 'til you see inside." The moment they entered, Scully knew she was home. The warm, solid walls surrounded them, somehow pledging the protection of all who lived within. An open fireplace was already stocked with wood and the room looked through a window across the field, mountains resting in the distance. They walked to the kitchen, Scully stunned to find real food in the cupboards and fridge, actually edible. "Wow," she said, "I'm impressed." He led her down the hall, showing her the bathroom (thank God, she was about to burst) and study, pointing out the views falling in from every window. When they reached the bedroom, he paused. "Uh, and this is the bedroom. Obviously." Scully grinned. "Obviously." Mulder stood, uncomfortable. Scully watched him with amusement, not about to let him off the hook anytime soon. Eventually, he chickened out, disappearing out the door. "I'll just go get the bags." She smiled. Good to know she could still make him squirm. ************************************************ Scully was unable to stay awake any longer. Dinner had been amazing, tasting like gourmet after having been forced to endure hospital food for so long. Mulder had started the fire, it wasn't really that cold but Scully asked him to light it anyway, the thought of resting with him before the red flames too much to resist. She yawned. "I think I'll turn in." Mulder got up first and helped her stand, she was a little stiff from being on the floor. "Need a hand?" he asked. "No, I'm fine." She walked unsteadily to the bathroom, aware of his eyes on her. "Stop worrying Mulder." But Mulder couldn't help it. He loved her. He waited until he heard her in the bathroom and went to stand outside, just in case. About a minute later, he heard her call for him. "Mulder, can you help me?" He swung open the door, rushing to her side when he saw her sitting on the floor. "Scully?" "No, it's alright," she reassured him, "I just got a bit weak. I'm fine, I just need help into bed." His worried eyes looked into her own, "Really Mulder, I'm not saying it to be brave. I just need help to bed. I promise. I'm fine." Without speaking Mulder eased her up, hand around her waist as he guided her to the bed. She seemed okay, but he wanted to be careful just the same. He pulled back the covers and lowered her down on the bed, "Left side?" She smiled, "Yeah." He pulled the covers back over her, squatting down close and stroking her hair. You okay?" She nodded. "Mulder?" He kissed her forehead, "Yeah?" "Come to bed." He didn't need to be told again. He crossed over and slid beneath the covers, moving in close. She turned toward him, kissing him before he had even settled, eager to be in his arms and feel the heat of his body against her own. He opened his mouth to her, feeling the fullness of her lips, the warmth of her tongue as it slid over and around his own. Her body pressed against his and she moaned softly, pushing into him. Mulder had never been so hard in his life. "Scully," he croaked, "Scully wait." The mood was instantly broken, "Shit Mulder, what? What is it?" Oh God, now she was pissed. "We can't.I can't." Oh lord this was killing him. "You aren't ready, you can't even walk from here to the bathroom." She pulled away, angry, hurt. "Mulder I said I was fine. And I meant it. I'm getting tired of you telling me what I can and can't do." "Jesus Scully, I'm not trying to tell you what you can." She interrupted him, "Yes you are, that's exactly what your doing." Mulder sat up on an arm, exasperated. "Scully, you nearly *died*. You're body's only just starting to recover. For God's sake you're a doctor, how can you even begin to believe that you're okay? Have you looked at yourself lately? Have you?" She didn't answer, eyes flashing in the pale light. "I thought that now, finally, after all you've been through you might just trust me on this. About this one thing. When are you going to realize you don't have to pretend with me?" Scully looked away, silent. Mulder softened, leaning down toward her, "Scully, this isn't like you. You know I see your strength. You know I do. Do you think it's easy for me to wait? Do you have any idea how hard it is for me not to make love to you right now?" Her eyes were brimming with tears, refusing to meet his. "Scully? You believe me don't you?" She blinked, sending one of the tears falling down her cheek, "Yeah, sure." Mulder heard the hurt in her voice, he inched closer to her, hand brushing her face. "Scully? You do believe me?" She swallowed, "I said yes, Mulder. It's fine. I understand." Mulder was stunned, she understood? Understood what? "Hey," he cupped her chin, drawing her face up so he could see her eyes, "do you think I'm not attracted to you? Is that it?" Scully pulled her face away, "You don't have to explain, Mulder. I know how I look." Oh my God, he thought. He almost laughed, the suggestion was so absurd. "Oh God Scully, you are nuts you know that? You think when I look at you I even *see* the scars? Oh God. You're crazy." He kissed her, unable to take the smile off his face. "You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I can't breathe when I look at you, do you know that? I can't breathe. There is nothing, nothing in the world I want more than to be inside you, making love to you. It's all I've ever wanted. You. you're." Again he crushed his lips against hers, the force of his passion surprising her, the intensity of his body immobilizing her. He pulled back, eyes shining, filled with the passion and lust Scully had only ever dreamed about. She stared into him, shaking, unable to cope with the power their bodies created, almost unable to bear it. She held his face, her voice unsteady, "The second I'm ready Mulder, you'll be the first to know." Mulder smiled, kissing her on the forehead, wrapping his arms around her as she snuggled into him, her breath hot against his neck. His arousal throbbed, but it was a pleasant agony. He rested his face against her hair, breathing deeply her sweet smell, feeling safe, knowing this was where he belonged. Mulder smiled as she drifted to sleep, still amazed at the conversation just finished. A small laugh escaped his lips. Not be attracted to her? *Not* be attracted to her? "Nutty nut." he whispered. ****************************************************** The next two weeks were surreal. As if in another world, they drank, slept, ate and moved as one. Scully grew stronger by the day, the mountain air cleansing her body, even if it was unable to release her mind. Neither mentioned the odd conversation of the night, and kissing was intelligently kept to a minimum while under the covers, neither one trusting themselves to remain prudent. The wait was excruciating. But it was over. Mulder was in the kitchen, making late lunch, when the storm struck. He dashed around the house, slamming doors and windows as lightning flashed above, illuminating the now darkened sky. Thunder rolled through the mountains, occasionally cracking with deafening intensity. He grabbed a towel from the bathroom and was reentering the living room, rubbing his hair dry, when he saw her. Scully was outside in the storm. Soaking wet, her shirt and jeans clung to her body as she raised her arms above her head, tilting her head back and exposing her face to the pelting rain. Mulder ripped open the door, yelling, "Scully are you nuts? Come inside, you'll get struck by lightning!" But she made no movement to show she'd heard him. He threw the towel aside and rushed out to her, already drenched by the time he reached her. "Scully! Scully!" This time she heard him and swung around, face glowing. Mulder stopped dead in his tracks. Oh boy, he had never met this Scully before. Her eyes shone, wild, dangerous. Her lips were parted, wet and glistening from the rain. He could see the outline of her breasts beneath the white shirt, heaving - her nipples already hard. Oh. My. God. Scully grinned, she could see the instant effect she'd had on Mulder, she could well and truly see it. His hardness rammed against his jeans, his chest was rising at an ever-increasing rate and his jaw was flexing a mile a minute. That did it, she always had been a sucker for that jaw. A clap of thunder shattered the air and Scully felt it hammer inside her, raging within her chest. She reached out and grabbed Mulder roughly, pulling him down to her mouth by the back of his neck, sucking his lower lip then biting it before devouring his tongue with her own. His arms instantly wrapped around her, crushing her to him, every inch of their bodies pressing against one another with urgent, primitive longing. She ran her hands over his back and around to his chest, ripping his shirt open, desperately wanting to touch every part of him. Scully groaned as she felt his hands follow her lead, first massaging across her back, then running down to her stomach, his thumbs pressing against her while he pulled her hips impossibly closer to his own. His hands moved up to her breasts, tearing at her shirt, deftly disposing of her bra in one swift flick of the fingers. 'Oh, God,' she thought, 'he's good with his hands.' He caressed her right breast then her left, circling her nipples, kneading them, tweaking them as he delved deeper and deeper. Mulder moaned into her mouth, and her pelvis reacted, tilting upwards and pushing against his throbbing cock, as she whimpered in return. He released her breasts, running his hands up behind her back, placing both behind her head, crushing himself into her. Her hands slithered down his chest, closing against his abs before moving to his cock, pulsing against the hold of his jeans, and she groaned her pleasure at his more than ample size. She grappled with his belt, the desperation to have him within her becoming almost unbearable. For a moment Mulder released his hold - grinning with pleasure when she cried out in protest - just long enough to release himself before he returned to her, running his hands through her hair, on her breasts, her stomach - while she tore off her jeans and scrambled out of them, all the time consuming his mouth with primal ferocity. His hand thrust into her folds, finding her clitoris and rubbing it with his thumb, teasing her vulva, entering her and pushing against her wall until she cried out in desperate hunger. "Oh, God Mulder!" Her scream shot through him, making him even harder, if that was possible. Scully drew her leg up high onto his hip, and in a move Mulder hadn't ever experienced before, laid them flat out on the grass with her on top of him. "Inside me Mulder," she begged, "I need you inside me." He swung up to her, sucking her breast, pulling her against him as he maneuvered his hips below her, finding her opening, wet and throbbing. He pushed himself into her, gently at first, careful not to hurt her. God she was tight. Scully felt Mulder enter her and cried out, not in pain but in ecstasy, biting into his shoulder, making him scream in blissful agony. She angled her hips back, pushing down deeper upon him, wanting all of him within her. Mulder felt the adjustment and moved with it, almost coming with the sensation. He began to thrust against her, slow, deep strokes, massaging her clitoris as she moved harder and harder against him. Scully reached behind her back to fondle his scrotum, using her thumb to circle and rub while her middle finger stroked between his balls and his anus. A fire shot through Mulder and for a horrible moment he thought again he had come without her, but then he felt his hardness still throbbing inside, felt her clenching against him as she pulled back and thrust even deeper still. Thunder and lightning pounded and flashed around them, the electricity pulsing through their bodies, lighting the air with an eerie, brilliant glow. He wrapped his arms around her back and pushed up onto his knees, she gripping him around the waist with her legs. It had the desired effect. Mulder was completely inside her, the thrusts now enveloping his entire cock as he lowered her onto her back, wanting to be on top of her, staring into her when they both finally came. The rain beat against them, steam rose from their bodies as Scully found his rhythm and closed herself around him. She pulled him against her, their bodies pressed together as Mulder thrust harder and faster, breath coming in jerking pants as they plunged towards rapture indescribable. He drove into her and she rammed against him, eyes locked together. She screamed his name as he came inside her, filling her with heat, sending her shuddering into orgasm, pleasure streaking through her again and again and again. Scully laughed out loud, throwing her head back, squealing with joy as Mulder bit her neck, nibbled her ear and finally kissed her mouth, long and deep with a passion so long withheld, so long desired. Eventually Mulder eased out of her, remaining above her, covering her with his body as they kissed. The rain fell, softer now as if wanting to take part in this joyful aftermath, and cooled their heated bodies. He moved to her side, drawing her to him, the sheer delight at having her with him almost too much to bear. She snuggled against him, resting her head in the little nook under his chin, her place. He ran his fingers lightly along her glistening, soft back, stroked her hair, kissed her face. Knowing this was where they would always be, together forever. ****************************************************** Days passed. They made love a thousand times, waking to it, sleeping from it, dreaming of it when they slept. Sometimes it was hot, lustful, yearning with the same fiery desire as on that first day. Sometimes it was soft, gentle and caring, a silent expression of pure love. Often it was desperate, intermingled with the tears that ran unabated, tasted and accepted willingly by the other. They were consumed by the completeness of it, the never ending hunger which seemed to grow, rather than fade, with each new day. It was almost perfect. ****************************************************** The cry sent him tearing through the hallway, heart pounding, terrified. "Mulder! Mulder! I need you!" He ran around the corner and stopped dead at the doorway. Scully was standing on the bed, pointing her gun toward the floor. "Mulder, get your gun. I want you to be ready, in case I miss." Mulder looked in the direction of her aim, ready to rip apart with his bare hands anyone who might dared have come near her. Then he stopped. "Scully, that's a snake." She flickered an aggravated glance at him, what was he - an idiot? "I know it's a snake Mulder. Get. Your. Gun." "Scully," Mulder said, walking slowly toward her and reaching out for the weapon, "it's not going to hurt you. It's only a tree snake." She didn't move, "I don't give a shit what kind of snake that is Mulder. It is in my room, and now it is going to die." She would never surrender her weapon, there was only one choice. Slowly, veerry slowly, he held a finger up to her, telling her not to fire. He then eased over to where the harmless creature rested, completely unaware it was about to be plastered across the walls, picked it up and threw it out the window. Scully yelled at him, "What are you nuts? That was snake Mulder. A snake! When did you suddenly become Steve frickin' Erwin?" But Mulder was suddenly having trouble breathing, he didn't really want to discuss it. "Go back to sleep Scully. It's gone now." Scully didn't seem to notice, muttering quietly, "Yeah well if comes near me again it'll be gone for good." She lay down and pulled the covers over her, "Coming in?" Mulder swallowed, "No not yet." He had to get out of there, to get some air in his lungs, to clear his head. He started to walk outside. "Mulder?" Scully felt, rather than saw his fear, "What's wrong?" She jumped out of bed and moved to him. "What is it?" He shook his head, keeping his face away from her, trying furiously to stop the tears welling in his eyes. "Nothing Scully. Go back to bed." But on the last word his voice broke. He turned further away, desperately trying to hold the tears from spilling, "I'm fine." Scully tried to pull him her back toward her, searching his face, searching his eyes, "Mulder? Mulder you're scaring me. What is it? What's wrong?" "Nothing Scully!" He was almost shouting now, "Just go to bed, just ." And suddenly, Scully knew. Realized what she had done. She pulled him close, ignoring his feeble attempt at resistance, falling with him as he sank to the ground, head in his hands. He'd thought it was happening again. "Oh God Mulder, I'm sorry. It's okay, everything's okay. I'm alright Mulder." She rocked him like a baby, holding his head against her breast, kissing his hair. Scully's eyes filled with tears as she tried to console him, tried to comfort them both, and Mulder clung to her, curled up against her like an injured child, unable to stave off the consuming anguish eating into his heart. He couldn't control it, he no longer knew how to control anything. "I'm sorry Scully. I'm so sorry." She shook her head, "Mulder, it isn't your fault." He pulled away, sitting up to look at her, and the agony in his eyes tore at her heart. "It is my fault Scully. I let you go, I didn't even look for you. I believed them when they said." "Mulder don't." Scully stopped him. "No," he said, "you have to know Scully. I don't know what to do anymore. I don't know how to save you. Every night you wake up screaming and I don't know how to save you." She stared at him, unable to answer. Until now, neither had spoken about her nightmares, or about her desperation to be next to Mulder every waking second of the day. Nor had they talked about him, about his inability to be without her for even a few moments, his obsessive compulsion to keep her close. Their love for one another was so great, it had surpassed everything else. Scully tried to remember how it felt not to be afraid. But couldn't. Not unless she was in his arms. All her confidence, her surety in her own strength to survive was shattered. Because she hadn't survived at all. A great part of her, the one that believed the fight was winnable, was forever lost in that black cell. Every night she was reminded. Every night she woke, screaming in a terror she knew might never abate - only saved when Mulder pulled her out, into his arms and to a reality which had altered forever. It was a feeling that both enraged and released her, a sorrow and a blessing. They had been existing in a constant denial, never allowing the truth to surface. Never allowing the fear to have a name. Regardless of how they might hope to return to a normal existence, that hope was gone. Never again would one be able to sound a cry for help and not cut the other' s soul that little bit more. Scully had known it the moment Mulder found her in that cell. And although he knew at that same moment, Mulder had taken until now to accept it. They were broken. No longer able to fight for the truth, to battle an ever changing enemy, to drive against a conspiracy so much greater than them both that there would never be any chance of survival. It had taken ten years, ten long years. The x-files was over. They lay together, both sensing the loss like that of a loved one, part of a family which was once believed inseparable. Yet they also knew the truth; There had to be an end. For all these years they had yearned to be together, now there was simply no other choice. It was made for them by their obsessive love, by their desperation, by their helplessness. Scully lay her head against Mulder, allowing the tears to fall freely, to fall for all they had lost at the hands of their enemies. Falling for everything they had gained. Unable to decide who had won. ************************************************************************* EPILOGUE The head orderly turned to the new guy and pointed down the hall "These rooms," he said, indicating the doors lining the hallway, "are for your goner boys. They're basically guys whose brains no longer associate rationally with the outside world." He waved his stun gun in the air. "Lemme give ya a few words of advice - if you want to live, do not enter these rooms alone. If you enjoy your teeth, don't enter 'em without protection." They passed by a few of the doors, glancing in through the windows as they walked, "None of these guys are getting out of here, some of 'em won't live to see next year." The kid looked into a couple of rooms and swore, "Shit, what the hell happened to 'em?" The old man shrugged, "Different things, drugs usually, sometimes trauma. Depends. This fella'," he motioned for the kid to look in the window, "he used to be some top notch FBI guy, worked for this secret section of the agency, dealing with *paranormal* activities." "No shit?" "No shit." "Man," his voice was filled with awe, "is that what did this to him? Some alien fry his brain?" The old guy smiled, "Naw. They reckon this one lost it when his partner, "Scully somethin-or-other" died. Brought her into hospital and the Doc told him she was dead. He goes ballistic, brakes about ten guys heads' and bam! No more Mr FBI man. Just lost the plot. Stopped speakin', stopped eatin', even stopped breakin peoples heads. Now he just lies there and talks to himself." "Jesus. What's he say? Does he talk about aliens and stuff?" "Nah, just mumbles crap about mountains and stars. Talks about "Scully" all the time." "Wow," the kid leaned on his mop and smiled, "that's kinda cool." "Huh?" "Well, kinda like Romeo and Juliet, you know. Dyin' of a broken heart. It' s nice." The old guy shook his head, this guy obviously didn't know his Shakespeare. "Yeah okay. Whatever." They started back down the hall. "But you know," he added, "there was somethin' funny about his partner, the way she died an all." "Yeah? What?" "Well, they found out later she didn't really die at the hospital, either that or they lost her body. Mulder snapped out of it just long enough to check out, travel halfway across the country and go lookin' for her." "What happened?" "Well he found her all right. Tied to the wall of some old warehouse, naked, beaten to smithereens. It wasn't nice." He paused, glancing back at the room where Mulder lay, his voice a little quieter. "The Director guy found them. Said Mulder was holding her, rocking her in his arms and speakin' to her just like she was still alive. It took five men and a tranquillizer to get him off." He paused, a shiver running up his spine. "Now, I don't know if it's true, but they say when they brought him back, his heart rate was seriously weird." "What'd ya mean, weird?" "Well, I don't think it holds water myself, but they say it's like there's two hearts beatin' inside of him. No one knows what the hell it is. Freaked out a lot a people." He didn't add that it had scared the crap out of him as well. "Some say it might be that her heart and his are somehow still together. That she found him after she died and now they're always together, hearts beatin' inside his body." The kid was silent a moment, staring back at the room. "It still beating like that?" "Yeah, so they reckon." The orderly moved on, walking toward the door, sighing. "Still, if he wants to be with her that bad, he'll get his wish soon enough. He ain't gonna last much longer." The old man left though the door and Krycek stood, still gazing down at the room, listening with an unfamiliar regret to Mulder's raspy voice as it echoed down the hall. "I love you." "I love you forever." THE END