Title: Learning to Live Again
Author: Angel
Email: JumperChick@aol.com
Homepage: 
http://www.geocities.com/hotsprings/bath/7266/angelfanfic.html
Rating: NC-17 
Disclaimer: This is such a pain. These characters 
belong to CC, 1013, Fox network and so on. I'm not 
making a cent, I don't even have a cent so suing me 
will get you no where.
Warning: contains sexual contact and illegal drug 
use.
Summery: Sequel to When The Time Comes, 
available at my home page--Fifteen months after 
Mulder rescued Scully for tests, time is up and he has 
to pay his dues. And Scully has to save him from 
himself.

Thanks to Evie and Melissa for beta work and 
encouraging me (in other words asking every day if I 
had written =) ). You girls are great muck sluts!

"You look like a photograph of yourself taken from 
far far away." Ani DiFranco


<><><><><>
It took fifteen months after Mulder found me, but it 
finally happened. Fifteen short months and time ran 
out. 

After nine months I let my guard down, decided it 
would never happen. The thought was buried in the 
back of my mind. It wasn't forgotten, the possibility 
would never be forgotten. I just didn't believe it 
would materialize. 

But it did. This morning. 

Mulder had to go. 

<><><><><>
10 hours earlier

 I really don't want to wake up. I'd like to lay here all 
day. It's Sunday, I deserve it after a long week. But 
my curiosity is getting the better of me. 

About an hour ago I woke up as Mulder got out of 
bed, but promptly fell back to sleep knowing he was 
just doing his usual Sunday morning bakery run. 
Within a half-hour he would be back in bed, coffee 
and fresh danish in hand. 

I smell the coffee from here, and if I imagine hard 
enough I can smell the pastry. But Mulder hasn't 
walked back in yet. He's been in the kitchen for a 
good fifteen minutes. From the sounds of it he is just 
sitting there. 

Sighing in defeat I rise out of bed and pad my way 
down the hall. 

If Mulder hears me he doesn't acknowledge it, just 
stays were he is. His hands braced tightly on the edge 
of the sink, staring out the window. Tension radiates 
off him. 

He doesn't move as I walk silently up to him. 
Reaching up I place a hand on his shoulder, feeling 
the stiffness. "Mulder, is something wrong?"

With a deep breath he turns, leaning back against the 
sink, his hands skimming up and down my arms. But 
he's not looking at me; it's like he is looking through 
me. 

"Mulder?" I say again, placing my hand on his cheek. 
He hasn't shaved yet and his stubble rubs lightly 
against my palm as he leans into my touch, his jaw 
stays clenched tightly.

He looks up at me finally, with soft damp eyes that 
make my heart plummet to my feet. "It's time for me 
to go." 

"What?" It comes out as a light breath, my throat 
tightening. 

I watch as his eyes close slowly, silent tears falling 
from the lids. "I have to, Scully. We knew this would 
happen at some point. I have to pay my dues."

"No."

"Scully." He says, stepping towards me. 

"No, Mulder." Panic is rising in my body, taking over 
all thoughts. "You don't have to go."

"I do." He says softly, his trembling hands come up 
to my face. "If I don't do this they will take you 
again. And this time I won't be able to get you back, 
I have to go. That's the deal, Scully. Me for you."

I can't look at him. Pulling away I turn my back on 
him and take a few steps. I need some space. I need 
to collect myself. This is too much too fast. 

"Scully, I'm sorry. I really am." His voice is tear 
clogged. "But this has to be done. It's not a matter of 
keeping my word; it's for your safety. I knew what I 
was getting into when I made this deal. I'm not 
backing out now." There is a long heavy pause. 
"Please, Scully, I need you to try to understand this."

"When?" That's all I can force out of my mouth at 
the moment. I'm on the verge of losing it, losing my 
mind-losing Mulder.

I can hear him take a deep breath. "I have to meet 
him in an hour."

"Who?" I ask quickly, turning to catch his eyes. 

"No." The firmness of his tone startles me slightly. 
He takes a few large steps, taking my upper arms in a 
strong grip. "I'm not telling you, Scully. You can't 
try to find me; it's too dangerous. I won't be able to 
live with myself if they take you again. The thought 
of them testing you, doing what they did before, it 
will kill me. I need you to promise you won't look 
for me or get involved in any of this."

I shake my head slowly, feeling the hot silent tears 
stream down my face. "I can't promise something I 
might not be able to keep."

"Damn it, Scully." I can read Mulder well. His voice, 
his eyes, his body language. He is becoming angry. 
no, desperate. "You can't do that. I need to know that 
you will stay out of it. Just go on with your life."

"You are my life." I say reflexively. 

Mulder's eyes close in pain as he leans down to rest 
his face against my neck, his arms tight around my 
waist. "I'll do what I can, when and how it's safe to 
let you know I'm ok. I know you need that. I would 
need that. I'll try, Scully. But you need to pretend it's 
not happening. Just keep working, stay busy and 
you'll be ok, and stay safe."

An hour and he'll be gone. I won't be able to run my 
hands over his shoulders like I am now. His clean 
scent won't surround me. His strong arms won't hold 
me. 

"I don't know if I can do it." I whisper against his 
shoulder. 

"You can." He sounds so sure of his words. "I know 
you can. You are strong, Scully. The strongest person 
I know."

I sort his words in my mind for a moment before 
speaking. "I don't want to."

"Oh God, Scully." He says painfully, pulling me 
impossibly closer, as if trying to protect us against 
impending separation. "I don't want to leave you." 
Mulder's lips press against my neck in an open-
mouthed kiss.

A small whimper escapes my throat. He is saying 
goodbye. This is it, I think as I turn my head and 
catch his mouth with mine. 

Our kiss is desperate and needy. His hands are 
pulling at me, pressing me closer to him. I just hold 
on as he backs me into the bedroom. 

We fall onto the bed, a tangle of limbs and hot flesh 
pressed against wet mouths. Mulder's fingers are 
already pulling the buttons of my silk top open. 
Despite this situation, despite the tears falling 
continually, I find my body warming and preparing 
for him. 

Someplace in the back of my mind reminds me to 
reach and pull Mulder's shirt over his head. His lips 
land on my neck, pulling and sucking the skin there. I 
know what he is doing. He's marking me. Caressing 
his shoulders I let him do this. He needs it. Maybe he 
thinks I will forget him if he doesn't leave these 
bruises in his wake, but I would never be able to 
forget Mulder. 

I shudder as his hands move up my ribcage to cradle 
my bare breasts. He palms my nipple as his lips move 
to my collarbone. Each spot on my body, that has 
been lovingly bruised by his mouth, tingles. My body 
is humming with electricity to his familiar 
ministrations. 


I don't want to do this. I don't want to make love to 
him with us both thinking it will be the last time. 
Taking his face in my hands I pull our mouths apart 
so I can speak. "Promise me you'll come back."

Mulder drops his eyes from mine, and my heart 
breaks. "You know I'll do everything I can to get 
back to you." 
 
I turn away from his eyes, trying to be angry, but he 
thrusts deeply. My body is betraying me. The intense 
pleasure of him sliding in and out of me, his fingers 
now circling my clitoris, I can't fight it. Arching up 
beneath him my cry of pleasure mixes with my sobs. 
Mulder's body tenses under mine, stroking short and 
fast as a call of my name deafens my ears for a 
moment. His heavy weight falling familiar and 
welcome on me. 


With a start I wake from a brief post orgasmic doze 
as I feel Mulder shift away from where he is spooned 
closely to me. "No." I sob grabbing his hand from 
where it rests on my stomach, feeling it start to slide 
away.

His warm breath and hot tears bathe my neck. 
"Scully, please." He whispers brokenly. 

I release his hand and cry openly into my pillow that 
smells of sex and clean laundry. Through my haze of 
denial and self-pity I can hear Mulder dressing and 
packing a bag. After an endless moment he lowers 
himself back down next to me, his lips on my neck. 
His stubble burns more then usual where he has 
bruised my skin. "I've got to go." He whispers in my 
ear.

"Promise me you'll come back."

The pause is endless and painful. "I love you." He 
says, leaving my request unanswered. Turning my 
head over my shoulder he kisses me gently. The salt 
of my tears, and his, mingle between us. "I love you." 
He says again, pulling away from me and catching 
my tears with his thumbs. 

"I love you too."

He tries to smile at me, but it doesn't quite reach his 
eyes. Gently he runs his hand over my eyes, closing 
them, then turns my face back against the pillow. His 
lips press against my temple and rises. 

My apartment is silent except for his light footsteps 
out of the bedroom and down the hall. I hold the loud 
sobs in my throat until I hear the door click shut 
behind him.

<><><><><>
17 months later

It took me nine months to realize I couldn't make it 
one more day without Mulder. Nine long slow 
months of questions and hopes all unanswered.

At first I thought I would be ok. I did what he said, I 
worked hard. I threw myself into every case, I spent 
weekends with my mother, and my nights reading.

 Until one day, I woke up alone, and I just couldn't 
take it any longer. I went straight to the Lone 
Gunmen's. Byers opened the door and I greeted him 
with "Where is he?" They said they didn't know, that 
Mulder hadn't told them anything other then he was 
leaving, and not to help me look for him and to not 
search themselves. It was a unanimous decision to 
start looking. 

So we did, that very same day. It wasn't easy. 

Mulder isn't a stupid man. I've received many gifts 
over the year and some months. All from him, I know 
for sure. But no clues attached. Flowers for 
Valentines Day ordered over the Internet with no 
return sender. Birthday and holiday gifts sent the 
same way. Envelopes with no return address or 
postmark, with nothing inside. Just an empty 
envelope. But I swear I could smell him on them.

With nothing to go by, it was a hard search. So many 
false hopes and misguiding clues. But lucky for me 
the Gunmen know people, in low places and in high. 
And every single one of them was watching for 
Mulder. Finally, eight months after we started, one of 
the Gunmen's scouts spotted what they thought was 
Mulder, in Baltimore. It took me almost two months 
to find him in this busy city, two long months.

That time, however painful and slow moving, has 
paid off as I watch the love of my life walk across the 
street and into the bank on the corner. 

When I first spotted him. well to be honest I almost 
didn't recognize him. Physically he looks the same, 
his hair a little longer but still neatly kept, his 
clothing dark and casual-his usual street wear. It was 
the way that he was walking... His head hung 
slightly, eyes on the ground, his shoulders limp not 
held proud the way he always has. Even his stride 
had shortened. There was a suspicious swelling 
around his left eye, I had to clutch the steering wheel 
to keep myself from running up to him, demanding to 
know what happened, then hold him in my arms and 
make the hurt go away. 

And I know he is hurting. From what exactly I don't 
know. Probably the same thing I am, loneliness, 
hopelessness, and good old-fashioned depression. 

Finally, after almost a year and a half, I feel my heart 
beating, even if only a little. 

The sight of him broke and rebuilt my heart at the 
same time. Only Fox Mulder is able to cause this 
paradox in my life. 

My impulse is to run across the street, drag him, if 
need be, into my car and take him home where he 
belongs. But luckily my brain was functioning 
enough to stop me. That would be stupid and 
dangerous. So I stay where I am parked at a distance, 
crouched in my rented car with tinted windows, 
sunglasses, and my hair pulled back. Call me 
paranoid, I've learned from the best after all. 

Mulder fades from my view as the revolving door of 
the bank sucks him in. 

<><><><><>
8 days later

As I said before, I learned from the best.

"Thank you." 

"Your welcome, Mrs. Havery." 

Smiling politely I walk away from the check in desk 
of the newest hotel with my newest alias. Thank God 
for the Gunmen. I have been changing hotels and 
names constantly, not to mention cars, clothes, hair 
styles, and cell phone numbers every few days. It has 
been hectic, tiring and very frustrating. 

Only yesterday I tracked down where Mulder is 
living. I know how observant he is so I am being 
extra careful. I don't want him to realize I found him 
until I am ready. 

I am in constant contact with Skinner. He promises 
Mulder and I government protection if we need it. I 
have this horrible feeling he won't be able to give it 
to us. I'm not sure what Mulder has gotten himself 
into, but I don't like it. If I weren't completely in the 
dark on who he is with, who gave him the 
information to find me, I would have a better feel of 
how to go about contacting him. 

After many sleepless nights of thought, I still don't 
know how I will do it. Maybe I will just walk up to 
him in the street and say `Hey, partner. I've missed 
ya.' It certainly would be the easiest. 

<><><><><>
5 days later

I'm being stupid. Idiotic really. Here I am, sitting 
across the street from the laundromat, which Mulder 
has one of the apartments above, waiting to get just a 
glimpse of him. I haven't seen him in a couple days, 
no sign whatsoever. I don't have a clue what name he 
is going by at the moment. Maybe he moved. He 
could be cross country by now and I wouldn't know 
it for months, if at all.

I shake those thoughts from my head. They aren't 
going to get me anywhere. 

My breath catches in my throat as I see a motorcycle 
pull down the alley way next to the laundromat. I 
swear that was Mulder, but I didn't even know he 
could drive a motorcycle. 

Holding my breath I wait for the driver to walk out of 
the shadows of the alley. 

My God, it is him. 

His leather jacket hangs loosely on his slumped 
shoulders, his helmet is tucked under one arm.. Oh 
God, there is blood on the leg of his jeans. He is 
ghostly pale. Ill, he is ill. And I have to sit here and 
watch him. I can't go to him. I can't care for him as a 
doctor, a friend, or a lover. 

Even from this distance I see the moment he loses the 
battle with nausea. 

"Fuck it."

With my gun tucked in the front of my pants I step 
out of my car and jog across the busy street. Mulder 
just went into the building, if I don't hurry I am going 
to lose him. This old building is not rundown, but it 
certainly isn't high class. Walking in unnoticed is 
easy. As silently as possible I make my way up the 
back staircase, the one Mulder just ran up ahead of 
me. I reach the landing just as the first door on my 
left is about to swing shut. I grab it just in time, but I 
don't enter right away. Leaning my head close I try to 
hear over my ragged breathing. 

I know I have the right apartment as the muffled 
sounds of retching float through the air. 

I shouldn't do this. I know that. But Mulder is sick 
and I can't walk away now. 

Quietly I push the door open, peering around the 
corner to see if we are alone. I step inside warily, 
almost tripping over Mulder's helmet and jacket on 
the floor. There doesn't seem to be many places to 
hide in here. The apartment is one room, a futon in 
the main area lays unmade from the last time Mulder 
slept, a TV, small stereo, the kitchen is tiny and 
cramped. In the far corner the door to what must be 
the bathroom is partly open. 

My stomach turns slightly as Mulder empties his. 

I should turn around now. Drive back to my hotel and 
think rationally. Mulder will never know I was here if 
I go now. 

My legs refuse to take me anywhere. Not back to my 
car or towards Mulder. 

The water turns on for a moment. I can hear Mulder 
spit into the sink, then the rustle of clothing and 
through the crack I can see him discard his jeans and 
shirt, both blood stained. 

My breath catches in my throat as the door swings 
open and Mulder, dressed only in his boxers looks up 
and meets my shocked eyes. He blinks, twice. 
"Scully?" His question is a confused breath. 

All I can manage is a nod. My heart is about to pound 
out of my chest. 

Mulder takes a few large slow steps towards me.

Everything is moving in slow motion. 

My eyes have a hard time focusing on him. Whether 
its from the adrenaline pumping through my body or 
the fact that I have only seen Mulder this close in my 
dreams for what seems like forever, I'm not sure. But 
once I do-my God if it isn't the sweetest sight.  

With a choked sob Mulder drops to his knees in front 
of me, wrapping his arms around my waist and 
burying his face in my stomach. 

"Shh. Shh. It's ok now." I find myself cooing to 
Mulder, as I run my hands through his hair and over 
his shoulders. I manage to push him away enough to 
kneel in front of him. 

"You're here." He whispers in disbelief.
 
"I am." He flinches as I run my fingers over a fresh 
cut above his eyebrow. Picking up his hands I 
examine the swelling and scrapes. "What happened?"

"Don't leave." He murmurs, burying his face in my 
neck.

"I won't. I promise." Leaning my head against his I 
feel how cold and clammy his skin is. He's shaking. 
"You need to lay down." I say, placing my hands 
under his arms in a fruitless attempt to lift him as I 
stand. He manages to stagger to his feet, then the few 
steps to the futon, only to crumple weakly, pulling 
me down with him. 

"Don't leave." He whispers again. 

I continue to soothe him with my words and hands as 
I place his head in my lap. "I'm here now." 

Mulder turns over to look up at me. "How did you 
find me?"

"You can't hide forever." My sly smile is lost after a 
moment as I take in his features. I run my thumbs 
over the dark stains beneath his eyes. My hands comb 
through his hair which is graying at the temples. His 
skin is pale, his whole body shakes. "You are sick."

He shakes is head like a child. 

"Yes, I heard you, I saw you." With a frown I hold 
my hand over his forehead for a moment, he doesn't 
seem to have a fever. 

"No. It happens every time I have to-" He stops 
abruptly, closing his eyes as if he is trying to block 
his thoughts.

"Every time what, Mulder? Tell me what is wrong."

"Nothing." 

"I saw blood on your clothes." Scanning his body I 
don't see any large wounds. Bruises and scrapes, but 
nothing open or bleeding at the moment. "Are you 
hurt?" His head shakes tiredly. "Was that your 
blood?"

"Scully, please. Stop." His voice trembles on the 
verge of panic. 

He tenses as I lift him off my lap, but relaxes as I toe 
off my shoes and lay next to him, cradling his head 
on my arm. "You need to rest, Mulder."

"Promise me you'll be here when I wake up." His 
voice is a hoarse whisper. I have only seen him this 
tired on a few occasions, times I don't ever want to 
think about again. 

"Yes." I stroke my hand up and down his chest, 
trying to calm him, as one would with a restless 
child. "I promise I will be here."

Immediately his breathing evens out and he sleeps. 

<><><><><>
8 hours later

Mulder is dead to the world at the moment. I can tell 
he hasn't had a decent nights sleep in a long time 
since he slept through me cleaning and bandaging his 
wounds. All and all he doesn't seem to be in bad 
shape, just run down. 

He is beginning to wake, his eyes flutter and he shifts 
onto his side restlessly. I weave my fingers into his 
hair to comfort him as his brow furrows with 
something unpleasant. 

"Mulder." Calling him softly before he becomes lost 
in a dream, I run my hand up and down his arm from 
where I lay in front of him. "Mulder, wake up."

Slowly his eyes open and focus on me. "You're still 
here." He says after a few moments of silence. 

"I promised you I would be." Pulling him to me I 
brush my lips against his. With a released breath his 
lips meet mine firmly, my mouth opens instinctively. 
We spend long moments relearning each other's 
tastes and textures before Mulder pulls away to rest 
his head on the pillow again. I am surprised he pulled 
away with the bulge of his erection nestled against 
my hip. 

"You can't stay here." He says gently, running his 
hand down the side on my face before pushing 
himself away from me. "It's not a good idea."

I nod, I had known this all along. "Let's go home 
then."

His eyes leave mine, looking behind me at nothing. 
"You know I can't do that." Sitting up abruptly he 
dislodges my balance and I almost fall off the bed. 
"You better go. You've been here too long and it's 
not safe."

Sitting up I nod and run my hands through my 
tangled hair. "Come with me. I have a hotel just 
outside the city-"

"No." He cuts me off harshly. "Just go." His eyes 
plead with me as he slides off the bed, trying to put 
space between us in this tiny room. 

I don't want to walk away from him yet. I don't 
know if I can. "Let's go somewhere then, Mulder. 
Get some coffee or something. Someplace public." 
Standing up I walk over to him. 

He steps away from the hand I reach out to his arm. 
"You need to go. It's not safe to be seen with me. For 
either of us."

"Ok." I say slowly. It makes sense, he is right. After I 
pull on my shoes I walk towards him carefully, he 
looks like he is ready to flee. I lay my hands on either 
of his forearms, and watch as his eyes soften. He 
leans his face down to nuzzle my hair. "I'll come 
back later."

"In a couple days." His voice is just a rumble in my 
ear. "Keep your distance, it's for the better." He 
pauses for a moment. "There's no way I can convince 
you to go home, is there?"

I don't even dignify that with an answer. He knows 
me better then that. Stretching up on my toes I kiss 
him lightly. "I love you, Mulder." Pulling back, I 
meet his eyes. He looks so haunted. 

"I love you too." He answers softly. His eyes close 
tightly, as if he is trying to block out the sight of me. 
"You have to go now."

I nod to him, even though his eyes are still closed. He 
doesn't open them as I walk across the small room 
and leave him. 

<><><><><>
Two days later

I think I left my common sense in Washington. 
Because here I am, about to knock on Mulder's door 
when I know I shouldn't be back here so soon. I 
should wait at least a week, get a new car and all that. 
But when the other half of my soul is behind this 
door that all goes to hell and I'm going to do my 
damnedest to get him back home with me. 

My knock echoes through the old silent walls of this 
building.

"It's open." Mulder calls. It's not like him to leave 
his door unlocked, ever. 

I push the door open and step inside. Immediately a 
sickly sweet yet musty smell of smoke fills my lungs. 

"Scully." Mulder apologizes as well as he can 
through his chemically enhanced daze. "You 
shouldn't be here. but I'm not surprised. Come on 
in."

"Mulder! What the hell are you doing?" I stand over 
him as he lays on his back on the futon, one hand 
resting on his bare chest, the other resting over it, 
holding a half burned messily wrapped joint, between 
his denim clad thighs is a paper cup he is using as an 
ashtray. 

He blinks up at me, his eyes slightly glazed a small 
smile on his lips. "I think you know what I am doing, 
Scully. Sit down." With a jerk of his head he nods to 
the space beside him on the mattress. 

"Jesus, Mulder. Are you insane?" I reach towards his 
hand, intent on stopping this but surprisingly enough 
he is fast enough to move his hand out of my reach. 

"Probably." He mumbles, bringing his hand back to 
his mouth. 

I watch in a stunned silence as he takes a deep breath 
and holds it as he pulls his hand away. My brain 
finally kicks in and I grab the joint out of his hand 
and smash it into the paper cup.

Mulder lets out his breath, and a large puff of smoke, 
in an annoyed sigh. 

"What is going on with you?" I ask as he stands a 
little unsteadily at first, then brushes by me. He pulls 
a bottle of iced tea from the refrigerator. I look down 
and pick up the little bag filled with crimped green 
leaves. "Explain this?" Stalking up to him I hold it 
close to his face. 

He leans away, annoyed. "What is there to explain?" 
Mulder meets my eyes for a moment and I have to 
remind myself he is not completely himself to stop 
from slapping him. "What do you want me to say?" 
His voice is dull and flat. "It eases the pain a little, 
ok?"

"Damn it, Mulder. You are an FBI agent. You can't 
use drugs!"  

"I'm not an agent, not anymore, Scully." 

I am so angry I am shaking. How could he walk away 
from his work like this, walk away from everything 
we have done. This isn't Mulder. "Well come home 
with me then. You can be an agent again."

Mulder rolls his eyes. "She is going to ruin my buzz." 
He mutters, looking through me into the distance. 
Before I have a chance to respond to his comment he 
speaks again. "I can't go back, Scully. You don't 
understand. There's no way for you to understand 
this." He takes the little bag from my hand and walks 
by me to sit heavily down on the mattress. 

"No, I don't understand this. Because you haven't 
told me anything that has been happening to you. Tell 
me so I can understand."

"No." He says firmly, not glancing up from the bag 
as he digs through its contents.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself, but I just 
end up choking on the lingering smoke in the air. 
"Skinner said he will give us protection for as long as 
we need it. If you let me take you home everything 
will be ok."

Mulder snorts almost as if he is entertained by this 
idea. "You want me to hide? Not going to work."

"Mulder, will you stop that and listen to me!" I reach 
down and snatch the bag as he had begun to roll 
another joint. I drop to my knees between his, forcing 
him to at least acknowledge me. "What is with this 
Mulder?  Pot?" I practically spat the word at him. If 
he was twenty years or so I probably wouldn't say 
anything, hell at the time I would have joined him. 
But this different. He doesn't answer me. "Are you 
addicted to this shit?"

"No." He says quickly, his eyes snapping to meet 
mine. "Not at all, Scully. I was. missing you." 
Mulder starts rubbing, I imagine, burning eyes. "I 
know it doesn't help anything and I don't want a 
lecture." His tone had softened only for a moment, 
but it is gone just as soon as it came.

I watch him from my low spot on the ground for a 
few minutes in silence. "I'm flushing this." I say as I 
stand.

"Knock yourself out." Mulder falls back onto the 
mattress, an arm slung over his eyes. 

Over the sounds of the old pluming the phone rings 
and I can hear Mulder's voice. "Hello.. Now?.All 
right, I'll be there. Just give me a few minutes. Ok, 
fine. I said I will be there!" I jump at the sound of 
his phone being slammed angrily. I step back into the 
main room just to see Mulder pull a tee shirt over his 
head. "I've gotta go out for awhile, Scully. You 
shouldn't stay here alone." 

I watch in mild shock as Mulder pulls on his leather 
jacket and checks the pocket for his keys. "You can't 
drive right now, Mulder."

He looks at me amused. "I've done it before-" He 
stops, obviously rethinking his thoughts. Well that's a 
good sign. "Listen, Scully, I have to go. I'll be ok."

"I'll go with you." I walk up in front of him, trying to 
look into his eyes and see past the haze. "We'll take 
my car, I'll take you where ever you need to go."

"That won't work. They will be expecting my 
motorcycle. And before you even mention it you 
can't drive it for me. It's too big and heavy for a 
woman your size, don't take that the wrong way. 
Proportion wise it just won't be possible for you to 
steady it." He says with a smirk, moving towards the 
door. 

"Then I'll go with you." I say grabbing his arm 
firmly. If he tries to leave here without me it will 
have to be over my dead body, I send this message 
with my eyes and he catches on. 

With a frown he nods. "All right. Wear this." He 
says, shoving the helmet into my hands. "You can't 
come in with me, so don't even ask when we get 
there."

"Where are we going?" I ask, trying not to fall down 
the poorly lit stairs. 

Mulder glances over his shoulder giving me a look 
that says I'm lucky to me coming with him, that's all 
I'm getting. I slide Mulder's helmet on and climb on 
behind him.


After an hour or so of driving I wish was a little more 
careful, Mulder pulls along a dark side street and kills 
the engine. My ears still hum and my thighs still 
quiver from the strong engine. 

Mulder slides off the motorcycle, looking around the 
street suspiciously. "Ok. You stay here. You're 
armed, right?" He asked in a hushed voice. After I 
nod he looks around again. I don't know if this is his 
usual paranoia or if it has been enhanced by 
chemicals. "If anyone bothers you tell them you are 
here with Ethan. Your name is." He searches the air 
for a moment. "Molly. You met me at River Bottoms, 
we were at my place when I got a call and I am just 
stopping here before I drop you off at the bar to get 
your car. Got it?" 

"Yeah, got it."

He nods with a frown. "Ok. Stay here." With that he 
turns on his heel and walks up onto the sidewalk, 
then into a fairly dark building.  

I tug off Mulder's helmet and set it down on the wide 
seat in front me, finally freeing myself to get a good 
look around the area. Half the streetlights are blown; 
not many people wander the street and I wouldn't 
want to approach one of them. Garbage lies 
everywhere, the cars lining the curb are beat up, 
windows are boarded or missing all together, and I 
suddenly feel very vulnerable despite the Sig 
strapped to the side of my jeans. 

Two women walk past me, looking me up and down 
critically. Considering they must be prostitutes I'm 
not sure where they get off. I fight the urge to shoot 
them a wicked glare and glance down at Mulder's 
bike. It's old, but looks in good shape. I'm no expert 
but I can tell some of the parts have been replaced 
recently. Maybe that is what Mulder does with his 
spare time. For the life me of I can't see Mulder 
working as a mechanic, but its been a year and a 
half.he's a different man from the one that left me 
behind in my apartment on a Sunday morning.  I can 
admit that much. I just hope I can find the one I love 
and bring him back to me. I know he is in there. This 
Mulder looks like the one I love, sounds like him, 
feels like him, but its not quite him. 

"Hey, baby."

I glance up to find the source of the voice. A man, a 
little shorter and leaner then Mulder, with light blond 
hair, piercing eyes, and a leer to put Frohike to 
shame, is leaning on the handles of the bike. 

"What's a little thing like you doing outside all 
alone?"

Swallowing my pride the best I can I answer him 
calmly. "Just waiting for someone."

He reaches a hand towards me, but before I even 
have the chance to lean away from him he is dragged 
to the side with an `Oof!'

"What the fuck you do you think you are doing, 
Ray?!" Mulder yells in his face as he slams Ray's 
back against a telephone pole. 

"Jesus, Ethan! Let me go!" Ray struggles against the 
arm Mulder has pressed across his throat. 

I step off the bike and move towards the men, but 
keep my distance. "Ethan." The name is foreign on 
my tongue and it takes me a moment to work it out. 
"It's ok. I'm all right."

Ray shoots me a grateful glance, but it doesn't last 
long as Mulder doesn't release him or even ease up. 
"Listen, Ethan, I'm sorry. I didn't know she is 
yours."

"Don't give me that shit." Mulder growls. "You 
know what my bike looks like."

"Ethan!" Ray chokes as Mulder presses his arm 
against his throat harder. "It's dark, damn it! I 
couldn't tell it was your bike. I'm sorry! Come on 
man." His voice drops to a plea. "I know you've been 
smokin', I can smell it on you. Just chill. I didn't 
touch her." 

Mulder steps back suddenly, then glances over at me. 
"Put your helmet back on S-Molly. We're getting out 
of here." He watches Ray carefully as I get back on 
the bike. Mulder sits in front of me and I wrap my 
arms around him as he guns the engine. He gives Ray 
a stony look. "Don't let it happen again." Ray doesn't 
have a chance to respond, Mulder tears out onto the 
road his tires squealing


I follow Mulder silently into his apartment, not a 
word has been spoken between us. 

"You hungry? I'm starving." Mulder says 
enthusiastically as he drops his jacket over a chair 
and opens the fridge. "Munchies I guess." He says 
with a laugh. 

"I don't find this funny in the least."

He glances up at me from the sandwich he is making 
with a shrug. Taking a hearty bite he makes 
appreciative humming noises in the back of his 
throat. 

"Damn it, Mulder! Will you talk to me!" 

"About what?" He asks innocently around a 
mouthful. 

Turning around I take a deep breath as I run my 
hands through my hair, trying to keep myself under 
control. After a few moments I turn back to him to 
find him finishing his snack and returning things to 
their proper places. I can tell asking him blunt 
questions isn't going to get my anywhere. I doubt I 
will have too much luck tricking him into giving me 
information, but he is still a little out of it. "What was 
with that guy? Ray?" I try to keep my tone light and 
conversational. 

Mulder's lips turn down in a frown, but he shrugs. 
"He's an ok guy."

"How'd you meet him?"

There is a pause. I can practically see the wheels 
turning in his head as he finds a way to answer me 
without telling me anything. "I've worked with him a 
couple times."

"Doing what?" I'm pushing it, and I can tell Mulder 
is getting angry.

"Working." He says with a smart-ass grin.

"Why did you have to go to that place tonight?"

"Business." He answers simply. 

"What the hell is with you?" His mock innocent look 
only serves to piss me off even more. I've tried to be 
nice, tried to stay calm. "If you aren't going to tell me 
what is going on I will find out for myself!" I'm 
screaming at him, all out screaming. The last time I 
did this was when I was ten and Bill threw my 
favorite teddy bear into the toilet, I gave him a black 
eye that day. I am even madder today then I was so 
many years ago.

Stalking over to his closet I throw open the door. 
"You growing marijuana in the closet?" I kick the 
contents lining the floor out into the room. A gun 
skirts across the carpet. That's all I'm able to notice, 
everything else is a blur. Somewhere, deep in the 
back of my head, my conscious screams at me that I 
am being irrational. But the anger and hurt overrides 
that small voice. "Do you have a gun for each pant 
pocket?" I start ripping clothes off their hangers, only 
to drop them onto the floor. Closet demolished I 
move on to his dresser against the wall. "I wonder 
what is in your sock drawer. Crack? Maybe some 
knives folded up within your boxers." I turn the 
drawer upside. "What about the bottom drawer?" 
Dropping to my knees I start to tug it open, as Mulder 
stands by, unaffected it seems, as I struggle. "A home 
made bomb? Or some-" I stop dead as I finally do see 
what is in there. Only two items. One is his picture of 
Samantha-he must have gone to his apartment after 
he left mine the morning he had to go. The other; a 
picture of me.

I pick the frame up carefully to get a better look at 
the picture. I know this one. It's a candid shot Mulder 
took our last Christmas together at a formal dinner of 
my family's. I am turned slightly away from the 
camera, smiling to someone in the near distance. The 
dress I was wearing was a long slip of ivory silk. 
Slim cut with a low neck. Mulder had gone shopping 
with me, after a little convincing, to find a dress for 
the party. I didn't want that one at first. I argued it 
was styled and cut wrong for the season. But Mulder 
told me it was perfect, he insisted on buying it for 
me. The dress was a big hit as it stood out among the 
reds and greens and blacks of the other dresses. 

I sit back heavily, my ass hitting the ground in an 
ungraceful manner as I clutch the picture. I looked so 
happy then. Mulder said I was glowing. He had taken 
picture after picture of me without my even knowing. 
This had always been his favorite. 

"Scully?" Mulder's soft, worried voice snaps me 
from my thoughts. "Don't cry. Please."

I didn't even realize I was. I don't really care. That's 
my Mulder who just spoke to me. Not the angry hurt 
man hiding beneath a haze of drugs and attitude. At 
this realization I cry even harder. 

Mulder sits beside me, his hand sliding warm and 
familiar along my shoulders. "Scully, please. I hate it 
when you cry." Gently he pulls me to him, breathing 
lightly into my hair, my head against his chest. 

"You're back." I say after many silent moments. 

He nuzzles his mouth down to my ear. "What?"

Pulling away only enough to lock eyes with him I 
smile softly. "That's you talking to me. I knew the 
real you was in there somewhere." 

He gives me a confused look, then it seems 
realization on how he was acting hits him. His eyes 
drop from mine, a deep inhale and he settles himself 
a little closer to me on the floor. "I'm sorry." These 
words don't fall easily from this man's mouth. Never 
once have I heard them spoken to me untruthfully. 

Weaving my fingers into his hair I pull his head 
down to rest against my neck, my lips to his temple. 
"Just promise me you won't go anywhere. That you 
are here for good."

His nod against my skin rushes the warm air of his 
breath over the damp trails his tears have left. His 
hands slide from my back into my hair. "I'm so sorry 
if I hurt you.in anyway."

"Shh." It would be a lie to say he hasn't hurt me. But 
I'm not mad at him. Maybe at some point I will be, 
but right now I have him back and nothing else 
matters. "There's no point in talking about that."

As if he doesn't hear me he goes on. "I was so cold to 
you. But I couldn't let you get close again. I 
shouldn't be letting you. But God. holding you 
again.It feels like I'm alive for the first time in 
ages." 

"I know. I know." I murmur as I kiss his face softly. 
His tears are salty on my lips, his hair smells smoky, 
but I easily look over that. It won't be happening 
again unless he wants to face the wrath of Scully. 

He sniffles slightly and pulls me partly into his lap, at 
the same time guiding my mouth to his. Sighing I let 
his wandering tongue meet mine. His gentle hands 
run over me. This is right. This is how it should be 
between us. 

After a moment he pulls away to reclaim my neck 
with his mouth. He groans, slightly frustrated, against 
my neck as he stands, bringing me with him. I let him 
half drag half carry me to his bed where we drop. A 
shudder runs through me as I land astride him. His 
hands dig into my hair, bringing my mouth down to 
him. Drowning me in him.

<><><><><>
I wake up with a start to a loud pounding on the door. 
Maybe it's not really that loud, but in the calmness of 
Mulder's embrace it's a shock to my mind and body. 

Mulder curses under his breath. "Pretend to be 
asleep." He whispers in my ear as he climbs over me 
nude. I watch with half closed eyes as he pulls on his 
discarded jeans. 

Opening the door just in time to intercept another 
series of knocks he lets out a gruff; "What do you 
want?" 

"Oh." The man's voice-sounds fairly young-says 
with a laugh. "Sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep, 
Ethan." 

"It's three in the morning, Eric, what do you want?" 

"Since when do you actually sleep?" Eric asks, still 
laughing. 

I heard a dull `thump' as Mulder leans himself 
against the door jam. "I'm a little busy right now." 
His voice is calmer now, I wonder how well he 
knows this Eric. I'm willing to bet its through 
`business' as Mulder is so fond of calling it. 

"What? You got a girl in there or something?"

"As a matter of fact I do." 

"Will you stop trying to see around me!" Mulder says 
after a pause. "She's not the pay by the hour type so 
you have no chance with her." His tone has dropped 
to teasing. 

"Ha ha. Very funny, Ethan. So what's her story?"

"Nothing. She's just a lay for the night, maybe the 
next."

I know he didn't mean that. I know he is only saying 
that to get off the subject, to keep me safe he would 
say. But, my god, it hurts. 

"Listen, I'd like to get back to her-"

Eric interrupts. "Squeeze in another round before 
dawn." They both laugh for a moment. "I just found 
out about a job that I'm going to need your help on. I 
just came from staking it out. I'll pick you up this 
time tomorrow."

There was a pause. "Um, yeah. I'll meet you on the 
street."

"Great." Eric's footsteps echo as he walks towards 
the stairs. "See you later, man." 

Slowly Mulder walks back over to the bed. My 
mouth is about to open and demand answers. I can't 
be kept in the shadows of this new life of his 
anymore. But those thoughts are stopped dead when 
Mulder crumples to the bed. His head buried in my 
chest, all but forcing my arms around him. He begins 
to shake in my embrace. 

"I can't do this anymore, Scully. I just can't. It's 
killing me." 

Weaving my fingers into his hair, I lift his head so I 
can look in his eyes. "Then let's leave. Tonight. I'll 
call Skinner now, he will tell us where to go and it 
will all be over."

He pulls from my hands to drop his head to my neck. 
"It won't work. They will find me, find you. I can't 
let that happen."

"Mulder, please.Tell me what Cancerman has you 
doing."

"It's not him." His voice is so faint I can barely make 
it out.

"What did you say?"

He clears his throat gently, clearing away emotions 
and falling into a bland even tone. "It's not the 
Cancerman I'm working for. It's someone who works 
for him. I don't know the details, I don't want to. The 
less I know the better."

I don't know what to say for a moment. I always 
thought it was the Smoking Man that made a deal 
with Mulder, again. Mulder never said any 
differently, but he also never told me anything about 
how he found me. "What work are you doing, 
Mulder." I whisper against his ear. 

He sighs, defeated, against my neck. "Anything and 
everything they want me to do." He pauses but I 
don't urge him to continue, I have a feeling he will 
on his own. He is ready, he is finally ready to knock 
down this wall between us. "It started off simple, 
breaking into offices and homes to get information 
that they needed. Nothing I hadn't done before." A 
soft, unamused laugh falls from his throat. It dies off 
quickly and he nestles closer to me as if he wants to 
crawl into my skin. Gently I stroke his back, urging 
him to continue. "Then.then I had to do drug deals 
for them. I thought I had dealt with the scum of the 
earth before." I can't picture Mulder, being as 
honest and true that he is dealing drugs. But I don't 
think Mulder is the man he used to be anymore. 
"From then on it just got worse. The last few months, 
they've been hell, Scully." Suddenly he pulls away 
from me, his voice catching on the end of his 
sentence.

I slowly rise as I watch Mulder begin to pace the 
small room like a caged tiger. For the first time I 
realize I am nude and grab Mulder's discarded tee 
shirt from the floor. It smells stale and dank, but 
Mulder just the same. Pulling the blanket over my lap 
I focus on Mulder's fidgeting form across the room. 
"Mulder..talk to me."

He shakes his head panicky. "I can't tell you this." 
Standing in front of the only window, above the 
kitchen sink, he continues shaking his head. 

Even from here I can see the tight clench in his jaw, 
his eyes are glistening with tears. 

"We don't keep secrets from each other."

"This is different." 

I rise from the bed, the slight squeak seems loud in 
the silent apartment. The floor is cold on my bare 
feet. His skin is hot when I place my hand on his 
shoulder. He flinches slightly, turning away from me 
even more. "I'm not giving up this time, Mulder. Tell 
me."

The pause that follows is so long for a few minutes I 
don't think he is going to answer me. 

"I've killed people, Scully."

At first I don't know what to say to that. Mulder and 
I, when our relationship progressed, became very 
open with each other, but the one thing we never 
talked about were the people we have killed. Maybe 
we think if we don't talk about it we will forget it. 
But it never happens. There is still guilt, even when 
the person was a monster, a murder. It's still taking a 
life. 

"Sometimes, Mulder, we have to do that in our work. 
You know that." I try to be gentle without 
condescending. 

His head shakes again. "These people are hired 
assassins, Scully. I've killed for them."

To my horror I pull my hand away from his shoulder, 
as if I was burned. 

"You should leave." He says quickly, matter of 
factly. 

"Mulder-"

"This isn't right. I shouldn't have let you stay here. I 
shouldn't have given you hope that we could be 
together again."

I struggle to get a word in, I struggle to make my 
voice work. "No, let's talk about this."

"I don't want to talk about it!" I can't help but jump 
at his raised voice. Slowly his eyes close and he takes 
a deep breath. "You need to go. Back to DC." 
Pushing by me he walks into the main room, walking 
aimlessly. 

"Not without you, Mulder. This doesn't change you." 
My voice sounds weak and unsure even to myself.

His walking stops, he looks straight into my eyes. 
"Yes it does. I'm not who I used to be..I'm not the 
man that you fell in love with. Get your stuff-get 
out." With that he slams the bathroom door behind 
him, the shower turns on. 


I don't know how long Mulder was in that shower 
for, quite a while I'm sure. He was sick, I heard him 
gagging and sputtering over the spray of water. I 
wanted to go in there, make sure he was ok. What am 
I thinking? I know he isn't. This is Mulder, a man 
constantly wracked by guilt and self-hatred. How he 
made it this far-doing what he has been-I don't know. 
I've sat here on his bed, unmoving since he told me 
to leave, trying to fathom how he did it. How Mulder, 
this compassionate sensitive man, was able to kill 
innocent people. 

The bathroom door opening makes me jump. 

Mulder steps out wearing only a towel, ghastly pale 
from his earlier retching. When he meets me eyes I 
know he isn't surprised I'm still here. "I told you to 
leave."

"I'm not going anywhere without you." 

As if he doesn't hear me he goes to his dresser and 
pulls out a pair of loose cotton pants and drops his 
towel pulling them on. 

"Mulder?"

"Scully, please!" He snaps at me. My Mulder is gone 
again. "For God's sake let it go, just get out of here 
and leave me alone."

 "But. How?"

Mulder spins on his heels giving me a look of pure 
hatred, towards himself, not me. "Well they said to 
me `Mulder, either you do what we say or we take 
your little girl friend, inject her with all sorts of alien 
matter for a couple months, or until she dies. Which 
ever comes first. Then slice her open to see why she 
did or why she didn't die.' What the hell was I 
supposed to say to that, Scully?!" I can only sit in 
stunned silence as he yells. "Of course I said I would 
do it." Rubbing the bridge of his nose his voice 
drops low. "The first one.the first one was a man." 
His eyes close as his memory brings the details to his 
mind. "Mark Castle, thirty-seven, hundred and eighty 
pounds, five foot nine, light brown hair, balding, very 
dark eyes. We were hired by his wife's ex-husband. I 
killed him." Mulder's eyes open and stare sadly into 
mine. "One shot to the back of his head while he 
stood in his living room. I waited until his wife had 
taken their two year old daughter up to bed before I 
shot him." Covering his mouth with his hand he turns 
away from me. I know if he hadn't emptied his 
stomach a little while ago in the shower he would just 
then at the memory of what he has been doing. 

"The first time I saw you here-" I have to clear my 
throat in order to speech audibly. "When I first found 
you here you were going into a bank, I was across the 
street in my car." He turns to me slowly, obvious 
from his expression he had no idea I was watching 
him before the day I walked into his apartment. "You 
had a black eye. Was that from-" 

He shook his head, his fingers brushing over his 
cheekbone as if remembering the pain. "That was 
something else." A snort of humorless laughter 
followed. "I went to Eric's-" He shot me a 
questioning look and I nodded to the unspoken 
question as to whether I knew who he was talking of. 
"I was completely wasted. Started screaming at him 
about what he was making me do. I don't really 
remember much. I could barely walk the next few 
days."

I can't help but grimace at the thought. 

"Eric..He's the one you are working for?" 

With an uncomfortable look my way, Mulder gave a 
little shrug.  "Not directly. He's sort of the 
messenger. Eric is the one who I had to go meet the 
other night, I'm afraid to say I'm at his beck and call. 
He's the one that came to DC to get me."

If I didn't hate the man before I do now. "What about 
the day I came to you? There was blood on your 
clothes."

Mulder shudders at the still fresh memory. "It was 
my last job.It was close range, very close."

"Why'd you do it?" Enough of dancing around the 
subject. 

With his back still to me I can see his shoulder's 
slump. "Because if I didn't you were going to be 
taken for more testing."

"You sacrificed other people for me." 

He nods slowly. "I can't stand the thought of them 
hurting you anymore, Scully. It would kill 
me..more then this has. I don't know how to 
function not knowing you are safe."

"How do you know that for sure? Mulder, maybe this 
whole thing was just a ploy to get you on their side? 
Everything, from me being tested to who ever it is 
that came to you with information to find me. It 
doesn't make sense to me that someone working with 
Cancerman would be able to tell you without 
reprimands. Think about it, Mulder."

"I have, Scully!" He hissed. "Every day, every night, 
every moment my mind isn't completely occupied 
from the moment I left you I have thought about it. 
But damn it, `what if's aren't going to get me 
anywhere!"

"Mulder-"

"What if we just left here. Right now. Just got up and 
went to where ever Skinner thinks is safe. So then 
what? We would be together but we would never be 
able to live our lives again. We would be who ever 
the government decided we should be, where we 
should be, everything about our lives. No, I can't live 
that way. I can't make you live that way."

I wait a moment to be sure his tirade is over with 
before I silently walk up to him, not touching but 
standing close. "I want to live my life with you, 
Mulder. The other details don't matter. But, Mulder, 
I'm not leaving here without you. No matter what 
you say, or what you do is going to change that. It 
took me too long to find you. I'm not walking away 
now."

Mulder turns to face me slowly. "I don't expect any 
less of you, Scully."

<><><><><>
Early next morning

My eyes hurt, my head hurts and my feet hurt from 
pacing Mulder's cramped apartment for the last 
several hours since he left. 

I have no idea where he went or why, he wouldn't 
tell me. He just dressed and said to stay put. 

Sleep is really needed at this point, but I tried a few 
hours ago and it was pointless. Now I think I'm too 
tired to sleep. I'm too wound up. 

I just about jump out of my skin when the front door 
opens. 

Mulder stumbles in, bruised and smelling like the 
acid odor of fresh smoke. 

"Jesus!" I rush over to him, trying to feel for injures. 
I only get a wince from his side as I press his ribs 
gently before he pushes me away. 

"Come on, we have to get going." Leaving me 
standing in the middle of the room Mulder throws 
open drawers and closets, stuffing only choice items 
into bags. 

"What happened, Mulder?"

"I took care of everything, let's just get out of here."

Striding up to him I intersect him as he moves 
towards the kitchen, I grab his arm, rather hard, to get 
his attention. "Tell me. Where did you go and what 
did you do? Then I will be more then happy to get 
out of here as fast as possible."

He sucks in a deep breath, not looking at me but a 
point beyond. "To Eric's. I destroyed all the evidence 
that I, or Ethan, whatever, existed." His eyes focus on 
mine. "Can you call Skinner for me? Tell him I am 
going to need a few favors?"

"Yeah, I'll use my cell."

"Ok." Mulder nods, stepping out of my hold and into 
the kitchen. "I have a few more things to do here, 
then we can leave... Then we can go home."

<><><><><>
Six months later

I roll over onto the side of the bed Mulder vacated a 
few minutes ago, it's still warm. The front door shuts 
and I smile contently at the thought of fresh Sunday 
morning pastry in a half-hour. 

Not a quiet Sunday morning goes by that I don't 
think about the time Mulder was gone, and the events 
that brought about his return. I still don't know, and I 
never will know, the details of how he got back to me 
without the repercussions he believed there would be. 
I am almost sure without a doubt that he killed his 
`business partner' Eric. How else could he have 
gotten out of that situation? He destroyed all the 
physical evidence he was ever there. At least all that 
he knows of. 

That thought puts a knot in my gut. It hasn't even 
been a year since all of that, anything could happen. 
And it's not as if we would be hard to find. Despite 
Skinner's advice we are living our normal lives with 
no special attention. Of course the government has no 
idea what Mulder did while he was away. Skinner 
knows, Mulder told him, and Skinner helped us 
return without too many questions. Although I'm not 
sure how, both he and Mulder refuse to tell me any 
details. Not that we talk about it, not ever. Mulder 
won't. I wish he would, only for the fact that he has 
many mental scars from his time away. I can live 
with out knowing the facts, but I want him to rest. He 
still has nightmares, waking up in the middle of the 
night in a cold sweat screaming apologies to 
nameless people, pleading not to have to do it, not to 
have to kill anymore. It breaks my heart. 

But I suppose it's a small price to pay to have him 
back with me, to be living my life with him, the way 
it should be. I hope it stays this way, even with the 
bad days, I hope the nightmare is over. That we can 
stay together. That it's finally over. 


The End


Notes: Well most of this fic was sitting on my hard 
drive for six months maybe, before I decided to force 
myself to finish it and get on with life. So my next 
focus is East of Eden..I would really like to get that 
finished. 
So here's the to the return of Mulder..and don't 
worry Melissa, his ass should be coming back too =).