TITLE: Lifeline (1/3) AUTHOR: Jennifer Lucas EMAIL: flagjc@earthlink.net DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Anywhere as long as my name and email addy stay with it. SPOILER: Anything through season four, but I stopped just short of Gethsemane...I didn't want to deal with that episode in this story. RATING: R for language CONTENT: A long and painful road to MSR (do I write anything else?) CLASSIFICATION: S-story, R-romance, A-angst SUMMARY: A brush with death causes Scully to re-evaluate what is left of her life and Mulder realizes what his life would be like without Scully. *This story deals with the feelings and emotions surrounding cancer, death, and suicide, though no one dies in this story.* DISCLAIMER: I don't own them, a surfer does. This surfer owns a production company...so now we all know this surfer's birthday. And the surfer's show is aired by a television system named after a small, red, animal of the forest. AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story is dedicated to my Uncle Richard, who passed from this world on August 9th of this year. He took his own life to spare his family the agony of what was soon to be his death...I hope death has brought him the peace and freedom from pain that he could not find in life. ************************************************************************ To believe in this living is just a hard way to go... ************************************************************************ She was stuck in that place; that hazy, quiet place between waking and sleeping. She wasn't quite awake, yet she hadn't truly slept, she was just there...between the two, and she had been for days. She remembered whispers, prods, pokes, sips of water, someone combing her hair, holding her hand, but she didn't know who and she couldn't remember why. She heard loving words, gently spoken in her ear, but she didn't understand them and when she tried to open her eyes, she didn't have the strength. She was healing, but only for a moment, a small amount of time, until her body could heal itself no more. O=------------------------------=O "How is she doing, Doctor?" "A little better today, but..." "But what?" He shook his head. "No, never mind, I understand." Fox Mulder turned back to her. He squeezed her hand and then leaned back in his chair. The chair was soft and comfortable, very unlike hospital chairs, but after three days of sitting in a sterile, boxy, hard seat, the nurses had taken pity on him and presented him with a recliner from their lounge. The new chair had been his *home* and bed for almost a week. Mulder was keeping a vigil, staying with his partner, Dana Scully, day and night. He knew her cancer was spreading and her doctors told him that she didn't have much time left but he didn't want to miss that moment when she finally opened her eyes and woke up, even if it was only for a moment before... he couldn't bring himself to think about what would come after that moment, if it was the last they spent together. When she first entered the hospital and his vigil began he was her friend and partner, he felt responsible for her cancer and he wanted to be there for her. But as the days passed he came to depend on her and care for her in a completely different way, her small hand in his, her red hair spilling out onto the pillow, her perfect nose, the freckles hiding there, and her waiting lips. The only thing missing were her eyes...no--her eyes *and* her voice. God, he missed looking in her eyes, gazing at the only other human on earth who made him whole and hearing her say, [Mulder, it's me...]. It *was* her...it was always her. Damn him that it took four years and a fatal cancer for him to figure that out. Now he was left waiting for her to wake up so he could tell her just how much he cared about her, just how much he needed her. He glanced at the clock...2 a.m., it was time to try and sleep. He leaned in and whispered in Scully's ear, "Goodnight. I'll see you tomorrow...I hope." He gently placed a kiss on her cheek and laid back in the recliner, closing his eyes. O=--------------------------------=O She was floating, bobbing, with no control over where she went. She looked up and saw the water's edge, it was so familiar. She saw the small boat she was sitting in, the murky water, the trees along the shore, the dock jutting out into the lake, and Mulder sitting on the edge of the dock, dozing in a chair. The only thing different this time was that there was no rope tying her boat to the dock...she was simply adrift. It was that peaceful place that to her represented the passageway, the crossroads between life and what came after life. She had been here before, had sat in this boat, and watched Mulder. It seemed to her that only a moment had passed since she'd last been here. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath...it still smelled the same, the light fragrance of the pine trees mixed with the odor of lake water. When she opened her eyes again she was surprised to find herself on a table in a room--another place she'd been before. She turned her head just slightly to the right, already knowing who stood there, and tears pricked her eyes when she saw the man in the white uniform, the badges and medals of honor proudly displayed, she tried to hold back her tears, but as hard as she tried, she was unable to when she saw the second figure emerge from the shadows. She was a red-haired, small woman, wearing a clear crystal on a chain around her neck. Her thoughts of Mulder, the lake, and the boat vanished from her mind as she faced her father and sister. Was this her time to choose? She'd had to think about it and come to terms with her eventual death ever since she got cancer, but she tried to put it out of her mind as much as possible. When she was finally faced with the quick deterioration of her body, she knew that it wouldn't be long and she had prepared herself for the moment... the moment she left this life and was reunited with her father and sister. As if driven by her desire, she willed herself into a sitting position, but she wasn't strong enough to get up from the table she was on and walk over to her father. Briefly, her mind drifted back to Mulder...he would miss her if she left, but he'd understand, he'd move on. Her father's voice brought her thoughts back to her waiting family. "Starbuck." "Ahab," she choked. "Daddy..." Again she tried to stand, but found herself unable. Her father shook his head, "Now is not the time, Starbuck." His voice was so quiet, yet it echoed loud and strong inside her head. "What do you mean, Daddy?" "Your sister and I are waiting for you, but it still isn't your time," he explained. "No, Daddy. I'm ready...I'm ready now." "Dana, sweetheart, there is a miracle in store for you. You still have so much to do," her father tried explaining again. "But..." Scully was sobbing now. It was hard enough saying goodbye to him when he died almost four years ago, but seeing him, talking to him now, these repeated visitations only reopened her wounds. Didn't anyone understand...this was her father, her Ahab...the guiding force behind who she was, and though dead, still the guiding force in her life. She wanted to be with him more than anything and he was telling her....again...that it wasn't time yet. How many more times would she come to her peaceful place only to be told by her beloved Ahab that she had to wait. Dammit, why couldn't she choose...she would choose to be with him. "Dana..." It was her sister, Melissa, speaking to her for the first time in two years. Scully looked at her and tried to wipe away her tears. "Dana, please don't get angry, don't question, it just isn't your time right now...you have too much left to do and you have someone very important waiting for you." Melissa gestured to her left and Scully looked over where she was pointing and there was Mulder on the dock, now awake and looking agitated. "Dana, he needs you," Melissa whispered. Scully shook her head, trying to defy what her father and sister were telling her. "Mulder doesn't need me," she quipped. "Starbuck," her father said, "He needs you, but more importantly...you need him." She could only look at them, dumbfounded. Somehow she knew they were trying to tell her something, something she needed to know, to believe in, but she didn't quite understand what they meant. She just couldn't wrap her mind around it... *need*. She trusted Mulder, she was his partner, she covered his ass when necessary, but she'd never considered that she might need him. She opened her mouth to say something to her father, but he and her sister started fading away and the room was slowly dissolving and she was again in the small craft floating on the water...away from her father and sister and toward Mulder. "Daddy...Missy..." she called desperately. Her father only smiled at her from the mist. Missy waved goodbye. Then her father, at the last minute, called out, "Starbuck, I love you." O=----------------------------=O The hazy film covering her eyes began to clear and the fog dissipated and a brightness broke through. She felt sunlight pierce her eyelids, warm her skin, and she started hearing sounds...the beep of a heart monitor, the drip of an IV, and him, that ever-present voice, "Scully...Scully..." "Mulder?" she whispered. Her voice was hoarse from days of not using it. She was thinking of how nice a sip of water would taste, when as if he read her mind, she felt his hand behind her neck and the cool, clear liquid drench her parched throat. When she opened her eyes again, Mulder was sitting over her, his hand still cupping her neck, and wearing a look of surprise and relief on his face. "God, Scully, I've been so worried about you." "How..." She swallowed to rewet her throat, "What happened to me?" "You were at work late one night. You must have gotten a nosebleed that wouldn't stop. You passed out and I found you the next morning when I came into work. You've been here ever since." "How long?" she whispered. "Nine days." A shocked look spread across her face. Nine days--she had very few days left and now she'd lost nine precious days to the oblivion of unconsiousness. "You were in a coma, Scully. The doctors didn't know if you would make it." He was so filled with emotion that he couldn't contain himself. This was *the* moment and who knows if he'd get another. He took in a deep breath and prepared to tell Scully how he felt about her. He didn't need to think about what he was going to say, he'd been thinking about it for days. "Scully, there is something I really need to tell you, something I've been thinking about, but I just want to make sure that you're OK, that I won't tire you out." The excitement was openly apparent as he spoke to her. And then she said it, the three words she'd said countless times--after he'd saved her from Donnie Pfaster, everytime she had a nosebleed. He hated those words and at this moment when he so much wanted to tell her what he was feeling, those words cut him to the bone. "I'm fine, Mulder." She looked up and saw the pain in his eyes and immediately regretted her flipant tone. Why did she say that--it was like a knee-jerk reaction--words that escaped her mouth before she even thought them. He obviously wanted to tell her something and she'd cut him off, his excitement and eagerness instantly gone. Mulder pulled his hand out from behind her neck and stood up. He set the glass of water down on her nightstand. Unsure of what to do or say next, he let out a sigh of relief when a nurse walked in the room. "Good morning, Agent Mulder." He nodded. "I wanted to come in and check on Agent Scully, her monitors at my station showed a change...Oh, my God!" The nurses hand flew to her mouth, her face blanched, and right then Scully knew how seriously ill she was. "Agent Scully, you're awake," the nurse said. "Yes, I am," she whispered quietly, still stinging from the look of pain etched on Mulder's face and the cold way he pulled his hand away from her, like he'd touched something he was afraid of. "Well, I'd better call the doctor," the nurse said, "He's going to be very happy that you're awake, Agent Scully." "She woke up just a few minutes ago," Mulder added. As the nurse set about the business of taking Scully's blood pressure, and checking her temperature, the tension between Mulder and Scully escalated. Mulder wanted to leave, to run, to flee and never return, to forget the things he was about to tell her, but he knew he couldn't do that. He could take some time for himself, but eventually all roads led him to Scully. He turned to her, "I'm going to go home and change my clothes and check my mail." "Mulder, I..." She knew she'd hurt him, but she didn't know what to say. She felt there was something different about him, something different in the way he looked at her and the way he touched her, but when he pulled away from her so abruptly she chalked her feelings up to confusion from her coma. And yet, she was left with lingering thoughts and feelings like something important happened to her while she was in her coma, but she couldn't quite remember what it was. What she did know was that something had changed between her and Mulder. She gazed back at him trying to wordlessly convey her apology, "I suppose that is a good idea." Mulder turned and left without looking back. He tried to put it all out of his mind. He and Scully had traveled down this road before, after Eddie VanBlundht, they ignored what should have been said and simply moved on in their partnership and not their relationship. Perhaps that was a good strategy. He could ignore his feelings again, which was safer anyway than opening himself up to the pain and disappointment of Scully's eventual rejection. O=--------------------------=O Three Weeks Later He took a second to steal a glance at her. She was pale and thin. The dark circles around her eyes were now puffy, which only made them stand out more against the stark whiteness of her skin. He quickly pulled his eyes away from her and tried to focus on the report in front of him, but even when he wasn't watching her, he was aware of just how sick she was. He could hear each breath she took; shallow, weezing gasps of air, accompanied by the occasional racking cough. Her body didn't seem strong enough to cough like that, but from somewhere deep inside of her that hollow, choking sound emerged taking control of her body for a moment until the spasm receded. These last three weeks were the most painful he'd ever endured, watching her waste away...watching her die while she was still alive. "Mulder?" Her voice sounded like a whisper from across the room. "Hmmm?" He looked up, amazed at her enduring beauty. "I think I'm going to go home. I'm getting tired." "I told you not to come in today, Scully. You had a long day at the hospital yesterday." "Quit babying me, Mulder." He smiled at her. She was still the quintessential Scully, dependent on no one, needing only what was absolutely necessary. "Would you like me to drive you home?" He asked it everyday, even though he got the same answer everyday. "No, I'll just catch a cab." She'd been taking cabs to and from work (when she did come in) because she could no longer drive. Her response time was impaired because she was so weak. Her legs were no longer strong enough to push on the pedals in her car and her hands were unable to grip the steering wheel and shift gears. She stood up slowly, and almost in slow-motion picked up her briefcase and began her long and arduous walk to the elevator and out to the front of the building. Mulder wanted so much to be able to help her, but he knew she wouldn't accept it, not even an arm to lean on. It almost killed him to see her this way and more so because of how much he realized he cared about her. He'd tried to push it out of his mind, but found that this time his emotions only got stronger, his depth of feeling only grew and evolved into something he couldn't ignore. So he did his best to deal with it. He allowed himself to think about her...to fantasize about her, but even though he knew he should, he wouldn't let himself think about what his life would be like without her...not yet. O=-----------------------------=O The knock on his door was firm and purposeful. He knew instantly that it wasn't Scully, she had only come over to his apartment once since she got out of the hospital. Now she usually called, and when she was too weak to hold up the receiver on the phone, she would send him a quick email. He walked to the door and swung it open. "Yes?" "Are you Fox Mulder?" the well-dressed gentleman asked. "Yes." "This is for you." He held out a large manila envelope. Mulder reached out to grasp it, wondering what sort of clues or hints were contained within it and who had sent them. "Thanks." He walked over to his couch and settled in again, the newest addition to his *special* video collection playing quietly on the television. He flipped open the envelope and pulled out the one and only sheet of paper inside. Not quite sure what to make of it, he looked at the title--"Addendum." He briefly scanned over the contents of the document and with each sentence the buzzing in his head got increasingly louder. His anger and resentment overflowed. He slammed the paper down on his coffee table, denting the wood, and knocking over a coffee mug half-filled with liquid. "Scully, what the hell are you thinking!" he yelled to no one in particular. The walls of his apartment were closing in on him, the smell of days old food and stale whiskey assaulted his nostrils. He felt like a rat, caged and confused and without any options. He sprang from the couch, almost hyperventilating and ran out the door. He knew where he had to go...he had to stop her before she did something they would both regret. End of Part 1...Continued in Part 2 TITLE: Lifeline (2/3) ************************************************************************ To believe in this living is just a hard way to go... ************************************************************************ She was dreaming, only this time she wasn't in *her* place. There was no lake, no room, no Ahab. It was dark where she was, dark and cold and eerily quiet. Suddenly, she was overcome with a feeling of claustrophobia and she tried to get up and get away from the blackness as quickly as possible, but as she lifted her head it hit something above her, she reached out with her hands and felt the cold, wooden walls right at her sides. She knew where she was...and she started screaming for help. As soon as she did, the lid was lifted off and above her loomed the Cancer Man and Skinner. They looked at each other and smiled. "Now is as good a time as any," Cancer Man said, taking a long, deep drag on his cigarette. "I suppose," Skinner complied, shrugging his shoulders. "Let's do it then," Cancer Man replied coldly and he reached for the lid again and closed it over her. The blackness and helplessness overwhelmed her, enveloped her, and she couldn't breathe. A sick feeling erupted in her stomach and she felt like vomiting, she was at their mercy, trapped, and they were deciding her fate. She tried to fight, she pounded her fists against the walls and lid of her coffin, she started kicking the bottom with her feet, screaming for them to let her out, telling them that they couldn't do this to her, but it was all in vain. The last sounds she heard were the hammering of nails as the lid was securely attached to the coffin, ensuring her death and destruction. O=---------------------------------=O As she tried to see in the blackness and the pounding became louder and louder, Scully bolted upright on the couch, spilling the files and papers that were left precariously perched on her chest when she drifted off to sleep, too tired to finish reading them. Her thoughts were fuzzy and her eyes were only half-open as she reached for the papers, attempting to straighten up the mess before she walked to the door. But the pounding just got more and more intense. He wasn't going to wait patiently...she sighed deeply, ran her fingers through her hair, and walked toward the door. The journey to the door was labored and difficult, such a short distance consumed so much of her energy. A feeling of dizziness began swirling inside her head and quickly settled in her stomach. She held her breath to keep from throwing up... [probably left over excitement from that dream] she thought. She turned the lock and stood back, amazed as Mulder came barreling through. He planted himself right in front of her and from the look on his face, she knew he had received the paper she messengered over and he wasn't at all happy. "Scully, what the hell do you think you are doing?" he yelled. Scully's eyes grew wide and she knew she wouldn't be able to hold back her upset stomach much longer...she bolted for the bathroom. Mulder immediately regretted his harshness as he listened to her gagging in the bathroom. Everytime she quieted, he started to relax and then her renewed wretches made him jump. She was so small and frail...how much more could her body take. Finally, ten minutes later, all was quiet in her bathroom and he heard the water running. It was over...this time. Mulder walked into the kitchen and poured Scully a glass of water, then he walked into the living room and set the glass down on the table. He noticed the papers and file folders spilled all over her couch and floor and he bent over and started to pick up the mess. He glanced at the papers...they were case reports and profiles from his most recent cases. She was still working and trying to help him with the X-Files, even though her doctor advised her to stop working weeks ago. She emerged from the bathroom looking even more pale and tired....[if that's possible] thought Mulder. She stood for a moment, taking in the scene in front of her. Mulder on his hands and knees, cleaning up her mess, and a fresh, cold glass of water waiting for her on the table. She smiled. "Thanks, Mulder." "For what?" "For picking up and for the water." "It's no problem, Scully. You know that." She looked at him confused by his last words. She didn't really know that anymore, she always felt like she was a problem for him lately. He had to work on cases alone, investigate alone, travel all by himself, and then rush to her side in some hospital when she had a nosebleed. He had to listen to her coughing and he had to see her like this. She saw the pity and sadness in his eyes sometimes and she knew he blamed himself for her cancer...and that was why she thought it best if she took matters into her own hands and set them both free. "Scully? You OK?" he asked. "Yea, Mulder." "You should come over here and sit down." She mindlessly obeyed, too tired to tell him to stop babying her. She gently sat down, not wanting to upset her stomach again. Mulder handed her the water. "There you go," he cooed. She lifted the glass to her lips, grateful for the relief the water provided for her throat and lips. He watched her as she gingerly sipped from the glass. The seconds began to mount and turn into minutes. Mulder became very uncomfortable in the deafening silence. He'd rushed over to Scully's to yell at her, question her judgement, and try to convince her to change her mind, but watching her, her once strong and shapely body, barely able to lift a glass, he began to wonder if changing her mind was the right thing to do. Certainly, it was the selfish thing to do, but maybe Scully was right. She finished what she could of the water and then placed the glass on the table in front of her. She was trying not to look at Mulder, because she felt his gaze on her. If she met his eyes, she would see what he was feeling, and she wasn't ready for that yet. It had been three weeks since her coma ended and in those three weeks, Mulder had been very different, he was gentle and soft and caring. He smiled at her more and there were times that she caught him staring at her with this look on his face...a look that she understood and had never seen before. It was the way he was looking at her right now and it scared her. "So, Scully, can we talk?" he said quietly. "Mulder, I don't really think there is anything to talk about." "How can you say that? After the Addendum to your living will I got...I think there is a lot to talk about." "Like what?" she challenged him. "Like what you are planning to do, Scully. You are planning to knowingly and willingly take your own life." "That is NOT what I'm going to do, Mulder." She was almost yelling at him. She'd expected him to be angry, but she thought he would understand why she wanted to do this. "You've made provisions for your assisted suicide. What the hell do you call it, Scully?" "I call it making a decision about how I want to die." "Does your mother know about this?" That was it, she'd had enough. "You leave my mother out of this, Mulder. She has nothing to do with this!" "Oh, bullshit, Scully! She's your mother, for God's sake, she has everything to do with this. Do you think she would want you to do this?" "I think she would respect my decision and be happy for me that I was no longer in any pain." It was a rationalization and she knew it, but it didn't matter to her anymore...this was something she needed to do. "God, Scully, how can you say something like that? I mean, you didn't see what it was like for your mother when you were in the hospital two and half years ago, after you were missing. She had to respect your wishes when the doctors took you off of the respirator. Do you have any idea what that did to her? Don't you know what your suicide would do to her now?" "Mulder, it's not like I'm taking my own life all by myself without any thought for anyone else. I've made all the arrangements and I will have help." "Scully, that is a load of shit! No matter how you describe it, it is still suicide and you know it." "No, I don't know it, Mulder. I'm doing what I think is best for me and for everyone. I can hardly eat, I'm exhausted all the time, I spend more time in the hospital than I do at home, and I can hardly work anymore. I just want it all to be over." "I can understand that, Scully, respect it even. But why...I mean you're still alive, why would you want to end your life, when you might have a few months left?" "What do I have to live for, Mulder? I have no children, I have no husband or boyfriend, I don't have many friends, I'm useless to you at work--" "Scully--" he tried to interrupt her and tell her just how much she meant to him, but she wasn't ready to stop. "No, Mulder, listen. I want to live, work, and be strong again and that will never happen. I wanted to fall in love, get married and have a couple of kids. I wanted it all and I'll never have that." She stopped talking, reflecting on what she would say next, hoping it would help Mulder to understand. "I'm tired of being sick...I'm tired of this cancer...and I don't want to waste away in the hospital turning into a vegetable as this tumor grows and invades my brain. I would rather die on my own terms, so you and my mother will remember me like this. Please...please try to accept my decision." His heart broke for her. She was talking about what *used* to be her future, but he knew she would never be able to have children and he also knew he never wanted her to fall in love with anyone but him. He finally spoke to her, "I don't know if I can accept your decision, Scully. Ever since the coma, I've had so much I've wanted to tell you, but you seemed so distant and I didn't want to intrude. But there are some things that you need to know about me and about us..." Scully leaned forward on the couch, staring at Mulder. And then the realization of his words struck her. It all made sense, his pained look at the hospital, his longing glances, and the gentle and caring way he treated her lately. "Mulder, now is not the time for this...it's too late." "It is never too late, Scully. I learned some important things about myself while I was sitting with you at the hospital, not the least of which is, I don't want to be without you...ever. I care about you and I need--" "Stop it, Mulder!" There was that word...*need*...for some reason it echoed inside her head as if it was spoken by someone else recently and it angered her. Mulder didn't need anyone, she never saw him that way. He needed the X-Files, he needed to live in the diluted universe he created for himself that the dark, shadowy, government organizations were using him, he needed to get some more sleep, but he didn't *need* her...she refused to believe that. "Scully, is it so hard to believe that I just might *need* you in my life." "I don't want to talk about this." "Why not?" he started yelling. "Because you would rather die than find something worth living for?" "That's not fair!" she yelled back. "I think it is, Scully. You are still alive, you shouldn't give up." "Well, I am giving up, Mulder. I'm not you! I'm not resilient and I'm not going to bounce back from this with a new and even stronger desire to live." "Scully, I'm not asking you to be me--" "Yes, you are!" Adrenaline was flowing through her body. She could no longer sit still; she pushed herself up and stood before Mulder yelling at him, trying to make him understand. "You've always wanted me to be like you. You wanted me to believe Samantha was abducted by aliens. You wanted me to buy all your bizarre theories, you wanted me to be supportive of you everytime you took off on some crazy hunch. You never just accepted me for me, Mulder." He stood up and faced her, taking her shoulders in his hands. She felt so frail. "Scully, you know that isn't true. I've always accepted you and you are the only person on this earth that I trust. I just wish you would trust me now and not give up on yourself so easily." "It's too late, Mulder. I've made up my mind...this is my life." "But it's my ..." He stopped. She looked at him defiantly, sticking out her jaw just slightly as she challenged him, "Go ahead, Mulder. You've said that before, but you never finished it. Finish it now." "But it's my...I feel like your life is my life, too." She angrily reached up and pushed his hands off her shoulders. She didn't want to feel his touch, her blood boiled. "Well, it's not, Mulder. It's not your life, it's my life and you're too late!" She walked as quickly as she could into the kitchen and leaned against the countertop. He watched her walk away, curious as to her last words, "What do you mean, Scully, *I'm* too late." "You're four damn years too late. At any time in the last four years, you could have told me that you cared about me and that you needed me and maybe we could have worked something out. Hell, I mean, it's not like I didn't care about you, too, you know. I used to think about it...about us." "So did I, but I was afraid. I didn't realize just how much I care about you until I had all that time to think in the hospital. I'm sorry, Scully. I should have said something sooner, but I was afraid." "And now, it's just too late," she said with finality. "It's never too late, Scully." He tried to soothe her with his quiet words. "Yes, it is!" she screamed. "I have cancer, I'm going to die, you are too late!" She forcefully spoke each part of the sentence, trying to get her point across one last time with what little energy she had left. "Scully, please don't do this...not now." "Oh, fuck you, Mulder! Even now, it's all about you and what I'm doing to you. How many times do I have to tell you...it's not always about you!" He stared at her. He'd never heard her speak this way and it scared him. She was giving up and she was slipping away from him, and into a world of her own making...the lonely world where she would soon be able to choose the hour, minute, and second of her own death. "Scully, this isn't just about me...this is about us." But she wouldn't look at him. She shook her head violently and her intense anger fueled her body with the energy it needed to walk to the door and open it. "Get out, Mulder," she yelled. He just stood there. "Scully, please..." "Get the hell out, Mulder. NOW!" He hung his head and started toward the door. All those days he sat at the hospital, holding her hand, not allowing himself to think about what his life would be like if she died and now he knew why, because it was the most empty, disgusting feeling he'd ever known. He was moving so close to her as he made his way out the door and yet, she was so far away from him and she wouldn't let him in. He felt as if a hole had opened itself up in his heart and an ache descended upon him that was unbearable and a loud buzzing sound started to ring in his ears. This was the end...this was what his life would be like without her. He turned to her just before he stepped out the door and took a gamble. He cupped his hand on her cheek, just like he'd done the morning he'd seen her after her father had died. Her reaction was the same... her eyes fluttered closed for a second and then she looked up at him, tears glistening. He leaned in slowly, letting his breath lightly touch her face and gently caress her lips, and then he did something he'd never done before...he placed a warm and loving kiss on her lips. When he pulled away, her eyes were closed and her face was flushed. "I'm sorry Scully," he whispered and then he turned and walked away. At that very moment when she closed the door behind him, he wanted to die, too, it would be a welcome relief to the pain and agony he was feeling. O=-----------------------------=O She listened to his footsteps as he walked down the hall, turned the corner, and left her building. Her rigid body finally relaxed and the breath she'd been holding when he kissed her came flooding out of her body. Her limp and tired shell could no longer stand, she leaned back against the door and slid down until she was curled in a ball, laying in front of her door. And that is when the tears started, a dam unleashed...she'd waited years for him to kiss her and when he finally did, she was too weak to lift her arms up and pull him to her. She was too weak to kiss him back. It was too late. O=------------------------------=O Mulder sat in his car for hours, outside a highrise in Washington DC, debating whether or not to go in. He couldn't bear the plaguing thoughts of Scully dying, lying in her apartment or in a hotel room somewhere, cold and lifeless, and he felt like he was sinking... drowning in the feelings her death brought out in him. He knew he had to do something. Even if she'd given up...he couldn't. He had one more card to play...he had one more chance. End of Part 2...Continued in Part 3 TITLE: Lifeline (3/3) ************************************************************************ To believe in this living is just a hard way to go... ************************************************************************ Assistant Director Walter Skinner opened the door to his apartment, revealing an exhausted and bedraggled Agent Mulder. Skinner could count on one hand the number of times Mulder had been to his apartment, it was always a surprise, and yet he knew this day would come. He had ever since he told Mulder, [I advised you against a certain course of action some time ago, concerning Agent Scully. I didn't follow my own advice.] Skinner made the deal Mulder wanted to make--he bargained with the cancer man to save Scully's life. Some bargain, he thought to himself. Mulder took a hesitant step forward, "Sir?" "Yes, Agent Mulder." "May I talk to you for a moment, please?" Skinner stood back and motioned Mulder inside, quietly closing the door behind him. "What is it, Agent Mulder?" They stood uncomfortably for a moment, as Mulder thought through what he needed to say. "Sir, Agent Scully is not doing very well. In the last few weeks her health has rapidly deteriorated." "I'm aware of that, Mulder," Skinner replied. "I know that, sir, it's just that I'm worried about her. I don't think she'll be able to hold on much longer." "I am sorry, Mulder, but I don't think there is anything I can do." "But, sir, you have been working for the smoking man. You've done what he asked. Can't you contact him? Isn't there anything you can do?" "I've already tried. I don't think cancer man ever had any intention of helping Agent Scully." Skinner wore a concerned look, but he could tell, as worried as he was about Scully, Mulder seemed devastated. Skinner found himself wondering just how much of Mulder's concern was professional and how much went beyond his partnership with Scully and drifted into a more personal concern. He'd always thought there was more to their relationship than simply the X-files, but he didn't ask... he didn't want to intrude on what was developing between them. He still didn't ask Mulder...but at this very moment, he knew there was no need. Mulder wore a lonely and terrified look on his face, a look Skinner had seen only once before, when Scully was missing. "Sir, there has to be something we can do. I'll help you any way I can." "I appreciate your offer, but I honestly don't think it will do any good." "Sir," Mulder took a deep breath, he hated to betray Scully this way, but he'd only just realized how much he needed her to stay in his life and he had to do everything, say everything that needed to be said to try and save her. "Agent Scully is planning to prematurely end her life." Skinner stared at Mulder, his lower jaw dropping open. "You can't be serious." Mulder reached into his back pocket and removed the Addendum to Scully's living will--he handed it to Skinner, who was instantly engrossed in its contents. Mulder patiently waited for him to finish. "Assisted suicide! What the hell is she thinking?" Skinner set the piece of paper down on his desk and nervously ran his palm over the top of his head. "She wants to die with some dignity, sir, before the cancer takes her mind." Mulder watched Skinner's reaction intently. "I can understand that, but this certainly isn't what I expected of Agent Scully," Skinner replied. "Me neither, but she is very sick. I don't want her to do it, I don't want her to give up, but at the same time, I'm trying to respect her decision." "Mulder, wait right here." Skinner grabbed his cordless phone, walked into a back room, and closed the door. Mulder stood there waiting...it was silent for a few moments, but then he heard yelling from the room. [You listen to me, you son of a bitch!]... [I've done all that you asked!]... [Don't underestimate me!]... [Fine, I understand!] Mulder thought the conversation was over and he was waiting for Skinner to emerge when he heard one last angry comment and the phone slam down...[Oh, bullshit...you do it now!] Skinner walked out to face Mulder. "Do you know where Scully is right now?" he asked. "Yes, sir. She's at her apartment." "Then I suggest you get over there right away." Mulder wasted no time. He had no idea what was going on or what Skinner had accomplished, but he turned to go. Just before he closed the door behind him he looked back at his superior, now looking weary himself. "Thank you, sir," he said quietly. "Don't thank me yet, Mulder." The men nodded to each other and Mulder shut the door. He had to get back to Scully, though with the way he left things, facing her would be the hardest thing he'd ever done. O=----------------------=O Mulder was outside Scully's door again, only this time he was knocking quietly...less angry...less urgent. He heard some rustling on the other side of the door and then the knob turned and the door glided open. Scully was sitting in a ball beside the door jamb. [Oh, God] he thought, [has she been sitting here by the door this whole time...didn't she get up and move?] He knelt down in front of her and he could tell by her crumpled hair and her tear-stained cheeks that she'd indeed been sitting here for hours. "Scully, are you alright? I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have left you like that. God, what was I thinking?" He berated himself. She was so weak and their argument had taken so much out of her...he should have seen it...he shouldn't have left her like that. "It's OK, Mulder. I've just been sitting here...thinking, that's all." "Yea right, Scully. Don't give me that...I shouldn't have left you." "Mulder, quit babying me." She smiled...only slightly, but it was enough to ease his guilt just a little. "No way." He said it matter of factly. Mulder ran his hands through her hair smoothing it down, he brushed her tear-stained cheeks lightly with his fingers, and then he reached for her hands, rubbing them inside his own, warming them up. She tried to protest, but he placed a finger over her mouth. Her eyes widened as she looked at him, then she gave in to his ministrations. Mulder gently put one arm around her back and the other under her legs and he lifted her up and carried her to her bedroom. The bed felt so comfortable underneath her and the glass of juice that he brought her tasted sweet and refreshing. She was drifting off to sleep when to her surprise, Mulder crawled into the bed beside her, laid a heavy blanket over them, and scooped her up in his arms. She relaxed into him and laid her head between his neck and shoulder...they seemed to fit perfectly together. "Scully?" "Yea?" "I'm sorry about the argument. I didn't mean to say what I did." "It's alright, Mulder. You were right." "Right about what, Scully?" "I'm angry and sad that I have cancer, but I shouldn't take my own life...I should let nature take it's course." Mulder pulled back and peered into Scully's eyes, but her lids were closed, just like they were in the hospital. She wanted to talk to Mulder, to tell him what she'd been thinking about, but she was too weary to keep her eye lids open. So he watched her, studied her face, and listened to her soothing voice and her comforting words. "Mulder, I know you believe in the power of dreams and I never really understood that, until today." She was quiet for a moment and then she continued. "I remembered something today, something that happened to me. When I was unconscious in the hospital after I was missing..." "Uh huh," Mulder whispered, letting her know that not only was he listening, but that he wanted her to continue. "I went to this place...it was a lake and I was in a boat. And the rope that held my boat to the dock broke. But even though the boat wasn't tied up any longer...you were there...standing on the dock and for some reason, I didn't float away from you. And something else happened to me then, too." "What?" "I saw my father. He told me it wasn't my time to die yet. He said that after he died, his life could be measured in the space of one breath. I remember... I wanted to stay with him, but you pulled me back. I heard you talking to me." "Did you have this same *dream* when you were in the coma recently, Scully?" Mulder asked. "How did you know?" "Lucky guess," he said, smiling. "I saw my father again this time and I saw Missy". For a second Mulder thought she was going to start crying... he waited... and she continued speaking. "They told me that there was a miracle in store for me and it still wasn't my time to die. I remember being angry because I miss my dad and I wanted to be with him, but then Missy told me that you needed me and I needed you. I didn't want to believe them, but..." "You do now." "Yes, I do. You told me that you needed me today and somehow I felt it... it was like I heard the words that Missy spoke and I knew that it was true. Besides that I saw myself in the boat again floating and there still wasn't a rope keeping my boat by the dock, but I remember seeing you there, just like the last time. Today after we argued, while you were gone, I realized that it was you pulling me back both times...like some invisible lifeline." "Careful, Scully, you are beginning to sound like me." She gave a throaty laugh and smiled, yet she still didn't open her eyes. "So I decided that if my life could be measured in the space of one breath, then I don't want to end it any sooner than it should. I might only have minutes or maybe days left, but now that I know how you feel about me and you know how I feel about you...we should make the most of what time we have." "Scully, how do you feel about me?" He didn't want to appear selfish, but when they had argued earlier that day, she talked about her feelings for him in the past tense and though he knew she probably did still care for him... he wanted to hear it from her. "I couldn't imagine a day of my life without you...and I realized today that what Missy said is true. I need you...I want you in my life, I want us to be *together*... I always have and I always will. I'm just sorry we both realized this so late." "I'm not. One hour with you like this is better than never having known what it would be like." They were simply words spoken between them, but the deep understanding and connection they shared allowed them to communicate more than they could ever say... there were no words for the way they felt about each other... mere words didn't do their love justice. "Oh, Mulder," she opened her eyes and found him staring at her, his warm gaze penetrating her. He was so close...his lips...his hands...his body. She smiled deeply and lifted her hand to his face, doing what she was too weak to do earlier, pulling him to her. Their lips met in a light kiss...gentle at first...but ever so slowly they began to explore. Their lips parted allowing greater access to each other, as their kisses deepened and became fiercely passionate. All the years they had spent together, all the sexual tension between them released itself in one slow, long, kiss that defied description. Mulder was surprised at first by the intensity with which Scully held him...tightly and strong. Her frail body, belied the passion within...and as she captured his lips and returned his kisses... he become lost in the beauty of the moment and the fantasy that this moment between them could last forever. But soon she began to loose her grip on him and her breath became more shallow and strained. He knew she was tired...he pulled away gently...her eyes shining up at him with a passion that stirred something inside him, but he wasn't going to act on it...not right now. Scully laid her head back down on Mulder's shoulder and her breath began to even out...he soon realized that she was asleep. He closed his eyes as well, and they drifted off together...until a loud knock at the door woke Mulder up. O=----------------------------=O Mulder stole a glance at the clock as he regretfully unwrapped his arms from around Scully, trying not to wake her. It was just after 2 a.m. ...twenty-four hours since Scully'd left their office in the FBI basement and taken a cab home. In this twenty-four hours everything had changed. Before Mulder even got to the door he knew who was outside...the stench of Morely cigarettes wafted into Scully's apartment. Mulder ripped the door open--the cancer man was wearing a smug look on his face as he dropped the cigarette butt on the floor and stamped it out. Beside the cancer man, standing rigid, was the man Mulder only knew as the alien bounty hunter. "What the hell is going on here?" Mulder demanded. "I received an urgent phone call informing me that Agent Scully is not doing well. I have come here to help," the cancer man explained very casually. "Oh, really, by bringing him?" Mulder motioned to the bounty hunter, still standing unmoving in the doorway. "I wouldn't be so quick to judge, Agent Mulder, after all you *did* ask for my help, did you not?" Mulder let out a frustrated sigh and stood back, opening the door all the way. The alien bounty hunter walked into Scully's apartment behind Mulder, but the cancer man stayed where he was. "Aren't you coming in?" Mulder asked him. "No, Agent Mulder. I am simply delivering you Agent Scully's cure." The cancer man pulled another Morely out of the almost empty pack and lit up, taking a deep drag. "I have given you what you want...this time, I will not do it again." His words rang of finality as he turned and walked away. Mulder looked bewildered for a moment, not understanding how the alien bounty hunter could "cure" Scully and not believing that cancer man was willing to help them so easily, but he decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. He closed the door and turned to the bounty hunter, "Scully's in here." As they walked into the bedroom, Scully was tossing in her sleep. She reached out for Mulder, already so used to him being near her and when she realized that he wasn't there she sat up. She almost called out for him, but then she saw Mulder standing next to her bed. He sat down by her and pulled her face to his before she could see the other shadowy figure on the opposite side of the bed. "There is someone here to help you, Scully." "What..." She tried to release her face from his hands, but he held her and looked deeply into her eyes, trying with a gaze to say everything he needed to to calm her and convince her to trust him on this one. It took a few seconds, but Scully seemed to understand and it was only then that Mulder motioned to the other side of her bed. At first she didn't recognize him, but as his form and face became more clear to her...she sucked in a breath and grabbed Mulder's arm. This was the face and figure of the man who had beaten her, thrown her against a wall, and used her to bargain with Mulder. Why had Mulder let him into her apartment? Nothing made sense to her, but then Scully became very aware that seeing this *man* had to be very hard for Mulder as well, after all, he had taken Mulder's sister. She quickly turned to Mulder and instead of looking panicked at the presence of his long-time enemy, he was watching her. "Scully, he is here to help you. I'm not exactly sure how he can help, but..." He stopped, not knowing if he should tell her the rest. "What, Mulder?" Scully asked impatiently. "The cancer man brought him here. He said this man has the cure to your cancer." She was too shocked to speak, but Mulder's pleading look convinced her to take the chance..."OK, Mulder, what should I do?" "Lie down," the bounty hunter answered. Scully did as she was told, she found a comfortable position and laid back. She reached out for Mulder's hands and grasped them tightly, then she closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. "I'm ready," she said quietly. The bounty hunter wasted no time. He leaned across the bed and laid his hand on Scully's forehead. She was aware that he was applying pressure, but other than that he was not overly harsh, yet she couldn't help but remember that this was the same hand that hit her in the face, breaking open her skin. This was the same man who hurt her so deeply by appearing to her first as Mulder and lulling her into a false sense of security and then using that security against her. This time though, as he touched her she felt no pain, there was no blood, and there was no anger. As Scully lay there she became acutely aware that something inside of her felt different...she was still weak, frail, and a little sick to her stomach, and yet instead of feeling like the seconds were winding down, slowing as her life came to an end, she began to feel as if time were being given back to her... as if a rebirth was taking place. Without the constant dull agony of nearing the end of her life, a deep sleep consumed Scully...it was all part of her cure. Mulder watched in awe as the bounty hunter touched Scully. He closed his eyes and seemed to go into some kind of a trance, but only for a minute. Then he opened his eyes and concentrated on Scully. It didn't take long for Mulder to figure it out...Jeremiah Smith could heal people with a touch and he could also morph into other people...this man had to be a hybrid, just like Jeremiah, and he had the power to heal as well. All too soon, the bounty hunter removed his hand from Scully's head and stood once again rigid beside her bed. "She will be fine now," he said calmly. He was a man of few words. Mulder looked at Scully and watched as some of the color started to return to her face...just a little, but it was obvious already that she was recovering. Then he turned to the bounty hunter and asked, "Are you the one who saved my mother's life?" The nameless man simply nodded. Mulder looked back at Scully and then to the bounty hunter one last time before he turned to leave the apartment, "Thank you," Mulder whispered. The men nodded to each other, a new understanding built between them. When Mulder and Scully were once again alone, he noticed that she was sleeping peacefully...resting and getting her strength back. Mulder placed the blanket over her again and then he pulled a chair up next to her bed. For some odd reason, right now, he felt more comfortable that way, watching over her, holding her hand gently in his, and waiting for her to wake up. It was the position he was in when he realized just how much he loved her and it seemed perfect somehow to sit beside her again this time and wait for her to wake up...so he could tell her. O=---------------------------=O She moaned and turned over in her bed, grasping Mulder's hand more tightly. But she turned into the splash of sunlight that was peaking in between her bedroom curtains and resting on her bed. It woke her up. Slowly she opened her eyes, squinting against the brightness of the sun, and she saw Mulder, asleep in her chair and holding her hand. She smiled, "Mulder... Mulder... wake up." "Hmmm..." His droopy lids opened only slightly, but then he realized where he was and who was talking and he eyes flew open. He leaned in and stroked her forehead with his free hand, "Scully, are you OK?" She smiled again, knowing full well that the words she would use now were the same ones that had hurt him many times before, cutting him off and making him feel left out. She grinned at him and said happily, "I'm fine, Mulder, in fact...I feel better than I have in months." "We'll have to get you to a hospital and make sure you are going to be OK. We need to make sure that the cancer is gone." "That can wait...right now I just want to appreciate this gift." The look in her eyes became far away, and tears began to form. He knew what she was thinking. "I guess your father was right after all," he said. She nodded, too overcome with emotion to speak, so Mulder finished for her, "He said there was a miracle in store for you." The tears began to flow freely now, weaving their way down her face. She wept at the simple joy it was to be able to wake up and enjoy a new day...and having him beside her completed her happiness. She sat up and wrapped her arms around Mulder, placing a few small kisses on his neck, and then squeezing him. "You know what I think, Mulder," she said, "I think that the miracle was more than just being healed...I think it was being given a second chance." She pushed Mulder back, gazed in to his eyes, and put her hands to his cheeks...he was crying as well. She gently wiped away his tears. "Not only did I get a second chance at life, but we've been given a second chance, Mulder. I don't plan on wasting that chance...not this time." He grinned, "Me neither." Mulder reached his arms around her again, pulling her into another tight embrace. But this time is was not to say goodbye or to support her frail body as she closed in on death; for them, it was for the first time... an affirmation of life and the beginning of their second chance. The End. Feedback welcomed at flagjc@earthlink.net -- +----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+ +Jennifer Lucas flagjc@earthlink.net & pipermaru@rocketmail.com + +-------- http://www.geocities.com/~jennlucas/index.html --------+ + ~Duchovnik~ ~JetC6~ ~Robert Beltran Estrogen Brigade~ ~OEM~ + + ~Innocent Looking Woman of the FMU Consortium~ + +~The Dean of Fox Mulder University~ ~Keeper of the FMU Webpage~+ +--------- http://home.earthlink.net/~flagjc/index.htm ----------+ +----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+ I'm a bitch, I'm a lover, I'm a child, I'm a mother.