Title: I Believe You (1/1) Author: Lainie Rating: PG Classification: SA Spoiler: Gethsemane Keywords: Mulder/Scully Summary: After the FBI briefing, Scully contemplates ending her life, but then starts wondering if Mulder is really dead. Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully are not mine (darn). They belong to Chris Carter. I'm just having a bit of fun with them. No infringement intended. Please archive. This is my second attempt at fan fic. Any comments would be appreciated and remember, please be gentle, I'm no Paula Graves. (If only I could write like her!) Comments can be sent to aepacka@pacbell.net XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Dana Scully's residence 10:31 p.m. Dana Scully closed the door of her apartment behind her and flipped on the light switch next to the door. She looked around and saw as she did everyday, that all was neat and tidy. A place for everything and everything in its place. Just like her life had been, until last night. During the day and most evenings, when she and Mulder were on a case, her work was her life. The days off had just been hours she had to pass until it was back to work, back to Mulder. The two most important things in her life. Only Mulder was gone now. Dead. It was irrefutable. After all, she had identified his body. It was him. And it had taken every bit of strength she possessed not to break down in front of the Alexandria PD. After the initial shock, she had somehow managed to get through the FBI briefing that afternoon and through the interminable questions Blevins and his associates had badgered her with. Finally, after trying to locate Skinner and failing, she had left for her apartment. Sighing, she dropped her purse and briefcase on the kitchen table and walked to her bedroom. She hastily discarded her suit jacket, blouse and skirt on the bed, and pulled on her jeans and an old tee shirt. She left the clothes lying on the bed, unmindful of the fact that they would be wrinkled. She went back to the kitchen table where her purse was lying. Opening it, she pulled out her gun. She stood there for several moments cradling it in her hands. She turned and went over to the sofa carrying the gun with her. She sat down and placed the gun in front of her on the coffee table. How could you do it Mulder? she thought. How could you put your gun to your head and pull the trigger? It couldn't have been the hoax of the alien in Alaska. He'd seen so much without ever having the proof he longed for. He knew it was out there, and that it was just a matter of time before they found it. Time. Something she didn't have because of the cancer. Both she and Mulder knew it was inevitable. The cancer had mastastasized. She hadn't told him, but he knew it was going to happen. He'd probably figured it out when she refused to go to Alaska with him. Scully picked up the gun from the coffee table. No, it wasn't the hoax that drove Mulder to kill himself. It was her. She had killed Fox Mulder. She might as well have put the gun to his head herself, and pulled the trigger when she told him that THEY had given her the cancer to make him believe. In hindsight, she realized that she should have kept that from him. But he had been so angry with her after the Spuller case when she didn't tell him she saw the apparition in the bathroom mirror. She had vowed to herself that she would not keep anything from him after that. So she hadn't, and look what happened. "He's dead," she whispered. "I can't believe it". She thought back to their first meeting. He had been so cocky. "Nobody down here but the FBI's most unwanted," she half smiled at the memory, then sobered as she realized that all she would ever have of him was just that.... memories. Memories that should comfort her, but only made her ache with a sadness and a loneliness that she had never felt before. It was unfathomable that she would never see him again, never hear his voice again, or pretend she wasn't amused by his wisecracks. Scully had known the loss of someone close to her before. Her father. Her sister. Their deaths had devastated her, but somehow she had managed to find the strength to go on. Because of Mulder. The strength of his beliefs had pulled her through the roughest of times. But Mulder was gone. Forever. And without him, nothing mattered. "It's not fair," she whispered. Tears ran down her cheeks. She brushed them away, and looked at the gun she still held in her hands. It would be so easy. She was dying anyway. Why not get it over with? One shot. No Pain. End of story. Come on, Dana. Do it. Ease your pain. Scully put the gun against her temple, her hand trembling. She shut her eyes. Flashes of Mulder played through her mind. His grin as he explained his latest convoluted theory to her. The look he gave her after he'd wiped the barbecue sauce from her mouth when they were in Wisconsin. His pain when he reached out to her after his father died. The look on his face when she had come out of the coma after her abduction. His body, Oh God, his still, lifeless body on the floor of his apartment. "I can't be here without him," she sobbed. Her finger poised on the trigger. One pull and it would be over. C'mon Dana, do it..... DO IT!!! "Scully! Run!" Her eyes flew open. Her finger just a breath away from squeezing the trigger. It was Mulder's voice, but, in her mind. Those were his words when he was holding the gun on her while Modell played with his mind. He had been warning her. Warning her to run before he lost control and shot her. Damn it. If he could show up in her subconscious, why didn't she show up in his? Or had she and he ignored her? Damn him. He had said he trusted no one but her, but in the end he didn't trust her enough to help him through his pain. Trembling, she put the gun back on the table, and laid down on the sofa. Her legs curling up in the fetal position. She couldn't do it. She couldn't kill herself, any more than Mulder could. She started at the thought. Where did that come from? He did kill himself. She saw his body. Or did she? She had seen lots of things that weren't what they seemed in the last four years. Maybe she was supposed to think that he was dead. But why? She sat up. Her thoughts racing. Was she crazy? Was she so overcome with grief that she was grasping at straws? One thing was certain, she wouldn't be satisfied until she at least made an attempt to allay her doubts. Scully got up and went to the telephone. She dialed and waited as it began to ring on the other end. "Skinner," the greeting was terse. "Sir, this is Dana Scully." There was a slight pause. "Agent Scully. How are you doing?" "How do you think I'm doing, sir?" Without giving him time to reply she continued, "Why weren't you at the briefing this afternoon sir? I looked for you before and after, and you were nowhere to be found." Skinner paused, as if contemplating his answer. "Agent Scully, there was an important matter that I had to deal with. I'm sorry I couldn't be there, but it was unavoidable." "More important than one of your best agents killing himself, and my report on the events that led up to that?" she asked. "I'm afraid so, Scully." "Could you share with me what that could possibly be, sir?" "No, Agent Scully, I cannot." "I see." she paused. " Sir, I would like to request permission to perform the autopsy on Agent Mulder." "Agent Scully, I will not authorize that. You are too close to this. He was your partner." "He was my friend, and I believe that I would be the best person to perform the procedure". "I'm sorry Agent Scully, but I will not authorize this. It's understandable that you would be very upset about Agent Mulder's death. I think you should take some time off and let Quantico handle the autopsy." "Sir, maybe I could just assist. I feel that someone who cared about Agent Mulder should be there...with him." Scully persisted. "Scully, I'm giving you a direct order. You are not to perform or assist in the autopsy on Agent Mulder. You are too personally involved in this matter to be objective." Skinner said adamantly. "Maybe you're right sir. But I would at least like to read the report and talk to the doctor who performs it. Can you tell me who that would be?" "Agent Scully," Skinner replied tersely "I'm sorry but that's not possible." "Why not sir? Certainly this is not classified information." "Scully, for the last time, you are too close to this case. You are not going to perform or assist with the autopsy. I will see that you get a copy of the report when it is completed. Is that clear?" "Crystal, sir. Good night." She didn't bother to listen for his reply as she hung up the phone. Skinner had been very adamant in his refusal. Too adamant. Something wasn't adding up here, she felt it in her gut. Scully picked up the phone again. Another call, and maybe she would have more to go on. "Forensics. Dr. Kenyon." the voice replied. "Hi Chris, it's Dana Scully" "Hi Dana," Chris' voice sounded cheerful and welcoming. "I haven't talked to you in a while. How is everything?" "Not too good, Chris" she answered. "I'm calling regarding Agent Mulder." "Spooky Mulder? What about him?" "About the autopsy, I want to know if you're going to perform it." "What autopsy?" "The one on Agent Mulder." "Agent Mulder? He died?" "Yes, last night. A self inflicted gun shot wound to the head. The body is there, isn't it? I was told that Quantico would be handling the procedure." "Dana, I've been here the last two days and Agent Mulder's body is not here. I just went over a list of all the bodies that were brought in in the last week for my weekly report, I think I would have noticed one of our agents on the list. Are you sure that he was brought here?" "I'm not sure of anything anymore" she said distractedly, her mind spinning. "Dana, are you all right?" Chris asked, concerned. "Yes, I'm fine Chris. Listen, do me a favor. Please don't tell anyone I called. I can't explain now, but I will. Can you promise you won't say anything to anyone?" "Sure Dana, you got it. I won't say anything. You let me know if you need any help." "I will. Thanks Chris." Scully hung up the phone. She knew she could trust Chris not to say anything. They had gone through the FBI academy together and had become good friends. After she hung up the phone Scully paced around her apartment. Something wasn't right about Mulder's death. Maybe he didn't kill himself, she thought. Maybe he was murdered? But if that was the case, then why wasn't Skinner at the briefing? Why was he acting so strange on the phone just now? And WHERE was Mulder's body? She stopped her pacing suddenly. One more phone call. One more, and maybe she would have her answer. She walked over to her desk and pulled out her address book. Flipping the page to M, she dialed the number listed. It rang several times then was picked up. "Hello" "Hello Mrs. Mulder, this is Dana Scully." Scully thought she heard a indrawn breath, then there was a long pause. "Hello, Mrs. Mulder, are you there?" "Ah, yes, Agent Scully, I'm here." Mrs. Mulder replied. She sounded nervous. "I was calling to extend my sympathies on the loss of your son." "My loss? Oh yes, I'm sorry Agent Scully. I just can't believe this has happened." "Me either. I still can't believe that Mul...I mean Fox is dead." "Yes, well, it was rather a shock." "I was wondering if you need any help with the funeral arrangements? I would like to help you if I could, Mrs. Mulder. Fox was a very good friend, this is a huge loss to me both professionally and personally." "Thank you, Agent Scully, but we..uh...I've got everything under control." she answered quickly. "Okay Mrs. Mulder, but I want you to call me if you need any help." "I will," she sounded more at ease now. "By the way, Mrs. Mulder, when is the funeral?" "The funeral?" "Yes, I would like to be there. To pay my respects. When will it be?" There was long pause. Scully thought for a moment Mrs. Mulder may have hung up the phone. "Uh, Agent Scully." she finally replied. "There isn't going to be a funeral. Fox is going to be cremated. He didn't want any services." Then why didn't you tell me that in the beginning Mrs. Mulder? thought Scully. Why do you sound so nervous? Scully knew that relations were strained between Mulder and his mother, but she didn't sound too grief stricken. She sounded like she was hiding something. "Well, if those were his wishes then they should be carried out. Again, I just wanted to convey my deepest sympathies, Mrs. Mulder. Please call me if you need anything." "I will Agent Scully" she sounded relieved. "Thank you for calling. Good-bye." "Good-bye." Scully hung up the phone and resumed her pacing. That confirmed it, she thought. Mulder is not dead. She stopped in her tracks. Was she crazy? Did she want to believe so much that she would hear what she wanted to hear in her conversations with Skinner and Mrs. Mulder? No, damn it. Something wasn't right. She knew it and she was going to get to the bottom of it if it was the last thing she did. Why would Mulder fake his death? More importantly, why would he fake his death and not tell her? Surely he would have known how devastated she would be. Face it Scully, she thought, it's not the first time he's ditched you. Yes, but this was downright cruel. If she was right, then Mulder better have a damn good explanation, or she might consider killing him herself. The phone rang and broke her reverie. She ran over to the phone, picking it up hurriedly. "Hello" "Agent Scully?" it was a muffled voice. "Yes, this is Dana Scully" "Don't believe the lie" "What? Who is this?" There was a pause. Scully strained to hear anything in the background but couldn't. "Answer me, damn it! Who is this?" "Agent Scully, we have your best interests at heart. Don't believe the lie." Before she could say anything more the caller hung up, leaving her listening to dial tone. She slammed down the phone. "Damn it," she yelled. She walked over to her desk and sat down. She took several deep breaths. Okay, obviously that was someone telling her that Mulder wasn't dead. It was a lie, and she wasn't to believe it. Who was it? It wasn't Skinner. He could have said something earlier and didn't. It wasn't Mrs. Mulder, because it was a man's voice she just heard, she was sure of that. Think! Think, Dana. What if it was someone who knew how deep her connection was with Mulder and didn't want her to suffer? Someone who knew both of them. What if... Her head snapped up, all the pieces falling into place. She knew who it was, and she knew where Mulder was. She jumped up from the desk and hurriedly snatched her purse and car keys from the table. "Damn it, Mulder. You better have a good explanation for this," she muttered as she slammed her apartment door behind her. Scully drove like a bat out of hell. She was relieved that Mulder was alive, but furious at him for pulling this stunt and not telling her. "I thought he trusted me," she said aloud. The house was dark when she parked across the street. So dark, she realized there had to be black out shades or some sort of shields on the windows. "Paranoid jerks," she muttered as she walked up the steps. When she reached the door she knocked on it several times. She waited. No answer. She knocked again, this time with more force. "Open up! I know you're in there. You know who this is." Still no answer. She banged on the door with her fists, yelling as she did so. "Open this damn door! I'll stay out here the rest of the night if I have to, I don't care how many of your neighbors I wake up! Do you hear me? You'll have to move to another neighborhood AGAIN, you paranoid little shits." Scully kept banging on the door, and was about to launch into another tirade when the outside light flickered on. She halted her fist in mid air, and the door opened a crack. "Scully? What are you doing here? What is th...." "Let me in. I know he's here!" she interrupted. "Who?" "Mulder, you idiot. I know it was you who called me Frohike! Now let me in. I want to talk to him." "Scully, I don't know what you're talking about?" Frohike replied nervously. "Cut the crap, Frohike. I'm coming in," she pushed the door open, and he staggered back, unprepared for the force she used to push against the door. "Scully, wait, you can't..... Damn, I knew I shouldn't have called," he said as he trailed after her down the hallway further into the house. "Where is he?" Scully said as she walked down the hall. "Why is it so damn dark in here? Are you so paranoid that you can't have a light on?" She stopped in her tracks, and Frohike who was right behind her ran right into her. "Get off me!" she turned and looked at him. "Listen, I'll scour this whole house if I have to. Why don't you save us both a little time and just tell me where he is." Frohike looked down at the floor. Then back up at her. "Scully, I wasn't supposed to call you. Now I'm going to get it.... I knew you would be upset, I didn't want you to suffer..." he trailed off, looking back down at the floor. "Frohike," her voice softened. "I'm grateful that you called me. I do feel better. But, now I know he's alive and I've got to talk to him," she paused and put her hand on his arm, "I'm not leaving until I see him." "Okay, but, if anyone asks, I didn't call you" "Deal. Let's go." Frohike continued down the hall, Scully followed him. He passed an open door, Scully glanced in and noticed it was a small kitchen. Just past the kitchen was a closed double door. Frohike stopped and glanced back at her. "This is it," he opened the doors. Scully looked over his shoulder and saw that there were stairs leading down to a basement. He stepped aside to let Scully go before him. "I better not go with you." He turned and walked back down the hallway. Scully descended down the stairs, the only light was from a low wattage bulb at the top of the stairs. When she reached the bottom of the stairs there was another door. She noticed a light under the door and turned the knob. The door opened easily. She stepped into the room. The room was semi-dark. What light there was seemed to emanate from all the computers and other equipment set up around the perimeter of the room. There was a low hum, white noise, from the equipment. There was also radio and surveillance equipment set up in one area. She knew the Lone Gunmen had quite a collection of toys, but this was more than she'd seen when she visited them here with Mulder a few months ago. To Scully's right there was another door, the light was shining underneath it. All of sudden she heard the noise of a toilet flushing, then running water. She faced the door as it opened. "Frohike, did you bring me that newspaper?" Mulder said as he stepped out of the small bathroom. When he saw Scully and met her eyes he stopped dead in his tracks. "Scully." "Mulder," she stood there staring at him. One part of her relieved that he wasn't dead, and the other part wanting to strangle him for putting her through hell. She just stared at him, saying nothing. He returned her gaze, but was obviously uncomfortable. Before he could say anything she said, "Did you think I wouldn't figure it out, Mulder?" "Scully," he said as he walked towards her. "I'm sorry." He stopped in front of her and put his hand on her shoulder. She brushed it away angrily. "Don't touch me Mulder. God, I'm so angry with you right now," she backed away from him. She had to put some distance between them. "How could you do this? Why did you do this? And how come you didn't trust me enough to let me in on it?" "I can explain, Scully," he said softly. "Well, you damn well better have a good explanation Mulder. Do you have any idea how I feel right now? I'm the only one who didn't know you were alive. Skinner knew. Your mother knew. Hell, even Frohike knew. Damn it, Mulder, you said once that I was the only one you trusted, why di...." she stopped in mid sentence as drop of blood fell from her nose onto her tee shirt. Her hand flew up to her nose to stop the flow of blood. Mulder stepped quickly back into the bathroom and came back with a tissue. "Here Scully, let me help you." "I can do it," she grabbed the tissue from him and sat down on one of the several chairs that were in front of the various equipment. She held the tissue to her nose for a few moments. Mulder drew one of the other chairs up and sat facing her. "Scully, are you all right?" he asked, his hazel eyes concerned. "I'm fine, Mulder," she said automatically. She drew the tissue away from her nose. It appeared that the nosebleed had stopped. Mulder looked at her and drew his chair closer. He grasped her hand. "Scully, you are not fine and we both know it," he stared intensely into her eyes and Scully looked away. He was right, she wasn't fine. He continued holding her hand. "And that's why I did this. To help you." "I don't understand, Mulder. How could your being dead help me?" she replied. "You should have figured this one out, Scully. You're the one who told me that they gave you the cancer to make me believe. If I was dead, there would be no further need for me to believe, so what would they have to gain by you dying?" "So you're telling me that you faked your death so they would provide me with the cure for this cancer?" she got up from the chair and walked toward the door. Mulder sat back in the chair and waited. He knew that Scully would have more questions. "Mulder, they don't care about me. If they gave me this cancer, and that's a big if, because we don't know it for a fact. But, if they did give it to me, do you think they care enough about me to cure me just because you're dead? What are you thinking?" "Look, there's more, Scully. Skinner made a deal with the Cancer Man." "Skinner? Why? What kind of deal?" Scully asked, surprised. "The deal was that Skinner would do some "work" for Cancer Man in exchange for the cure for your cancer." "Why on earth would Skinner do that?" "He did it, so I wouldn't," Mulder said simply. "You mean, you tried to make a deal with Cancer Man?" "I told Skinner I was, but he talked me out of it, said he would take care of it. Then he made the deal instead. I found out about it weeks later when you were in the hospital." Scully tried to absorb what Mulder just said. It was unbelievable. That Skinner would make a deal like that was hard to fathom. That Mulder had wanted to, made her realize just how much a cure had meant to him as well. "I guess we underestimated him Mulder." "Yes we did." But, I still don't understand why you went to all this trouble to fake your death." "Skinner thought that Cancer Man reneged on the deal, so we decided that if Cancer Man thought I was dead he would be more inclined to help you. But if he wasn't, then since I was supposedly dead, I might be able to find out what the cure is and where it's at, if I wasn't so visible." "If he even has a cure, Mulder," Scully paused "Do you think if he had access to a cure for cancer he would hide it from the world?" "Yes, Scully, I do," Mulder said vehemently. "And probably gets perverse pleasure from doing so. He needs to be in control. He's been yanking our chain for four years, and I think it's time we get the son of a bitch. I think we'll have a better chance if he thinks I'm dead." Scully walked back toward the empty chair and sat down facing Mulder. "You've explained why you did it, now explain to me why you didn't tell me about it." "We had to make it look real Scully. The only way Cancer Man would believe that I was dead was if you believed it as well, and I mean REALLY believed it," Mulder sat forward in the chair his forearms resting on his knees. "And it was a bonus that you identified my body." "A bonus?" she cried. "Mulder do you have any idea what that was like? Do you have any idea what that did to me? What YOU did to me?" her voice was anguished. "I thought you were dead. I thought I would never see you again. I thought I would never be able to tell you..." She broke down, the last twenty four hours finally catching up with her. The tears flowed, and she dropped her head into her hands trying to control herself. Mulder got up from his chair and walked over to her. He bent down, took her by the shoulders and stood her up out of the chair. He pulled her into his arms, trying to comfort her. She wrapped her arms around him and cried. Letting it all out. He felt so good. He was alive. "Scully," he said stroking her hair. "I never meant to hurt you, you've got to believe that. Everything I've done, I've done with one thing in mind. Saving you. I lost you once, and I don't think I could bear to lose you again." "I do believe that, Mulder. But you've got to trust me enough to include me in your plans. I trust you with my life, and it has to go both ways or we don't have anything," she pulled slightly away from him and looked up at him, her eyes still glistening from the tears. "Promise me that this won't happen again. Promise me, Mulder, and I'll believe you." Mulder reached his hand up and brushed the tears from her cheek. "I promise, Scully." Scully closed her eyes and rested her head again his chest. His hand stroked the back of her head soothingly. When she looked up again, the look in his eyes was so tender she felt like crying again. Instead she pulled away from him, confused by the feelings that look raised in her. She couldn't think about those feelings now. If her cancer was cured, then someday she would. But right now she had to focus all of her energy on getting well. She looked at Mulder. Her partner. Her friend. The only person besides her mother she trusted. She looked into his hazel eyes and for the first time in months she had hope. She smiled at Mulder, and replied so softly he almost couldn't hear her. "I believe you." THE END