Whispers of the Soul by Huntress

Pairing: Mulder/Scully
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This story is based on the characters and situations created by Chris Carter and owned by the Fox Network and 1013 Productions. As such, the characters named are the property of those entities and are used without permission, although no copyright infringements are intended.

Summary: an alternate ending for Memento Mori, written after watching the teaser for the episode.
Category(s): drama, romance, AU

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June 21, 1997
North Dakota

Blades of long dead grass pricked Scully through the fabric of her silk blouse as she lay, her body pressed against the cold earth. The bulletproof vest dug into her stomach. A breeze coiled around her, whispering in her ear, tracing fingers of dread up and down her spine.

By her side, Mulder lay on his stomach, still, his dark suit a stark contrast against the brown grass. Beyond, hugging the ground, were the members of their back-up squad, State Bureau of Investigation agents, local sheriff's deputies, peering tentatively over the earthen mound.

Scully breathed deeply of the earthy scents, allowing herself a momentary lapse in attention.

"Scully. You ready to go?" Mulder's hand reached out and back to touch her shoulder, as if he knew she'd be there, just within his reach. Always. He didn't turn his head, didn't look back as his fingers drifted over the fabric of her jacket. "Sure." She brought her weapon forward and tightened her grip. He turned his head and smiled one of his warm, sleepy smiles. "Let's go get `em." Mulder raised his hand and men rose from the grass, weighted down by their swat gear. They surged forward, crouched, running toward the barn.

Mulder's coat tails flapped as he crossed the common ground, sprinting on the balls of his feet. Scully followed, her eyes searching the structure for signs of danger he did not see. This time she was his back up. Only week before he had been hers. They made the side of the bar at the same time and sagged against it. Scully breathed deeply, noticing a slight twinge in her head. Their army of agents were spread out all over the farm yard. "I'm going around the front," Mulder whispered, toweringover her, his breath stirring her hair.

"You take the right side of the door and I'll take the left."

Scully nodded, knowing he would assume her agreement rather than see it. She shifted away from the barn wall to strand straight and again the pain rippled through her, harder this time. "What's wrong?" Scully glanced up at Mulder's concerned expression and wondered briefly just how long he had been reading her mind. And her his.

Nackte Frauen

"Nothing , it's just a headache."he looked concerned but didn't ask any more questions

"On three."

Scully drew a deep breath, counted with him, then plunged around the corner right on his heels. He moved with cat-like grace, neatly kicking the door in with one swift movement. She started to the right, then stumbled as a wall of pain hit her. She blinked against the red haze that fogged her eyes, but willed her feet forward and crouched into position. "Federal Agents, Mr. Turner. Drop your weapon and come out with your hands over your head." Another wave of pain and Scully bent at the waist, concentrating on the interior of the barn. Somehow, Mulder would know and would look over at her. She had to be ready in case Turner was watching and waiting for one of them to let their guard down.

The figure appeared .

Mulder swept his feet with one movement and Scully stumbled forward to hold her gun to his head."Put your hands where we can see them," she ordered,realizing that her voice sounded strained and high. Quickly, Mulder holstered his gun and snapped cuffs around both the man's wrists. Scully lowered her gun and stepped back as Mulder hauled the man to his feet by one arm. "We've got him," he called to their backup. "That was too easy." He and Turner stepped into the light and Scully concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Shoving Turner into the arms of waiting local sheriff, Mulder dropped back and took her arm. "What's wrong?" "Nothing." "C'mon. You know I know. I saw you stumble back there." "It's nothing , Mulder.I'm fine." She snapped. He quirked an eyebrow and Scully frowned at him. He sighed and dropped his grip with a tiny, almost indistinguishable pat, and headed off in his familiar lope to where their swat team was clustered, discussing the capture. Scully made her way to their car, opened the door and backed in to sit down. A cool breeze stirred her hair and as suddenly as it had come, the pain disappeared, leaving only a vague concern in its wake. She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath, testing. Nothing. She sensed a shadow over her and opened her eyes, already knowing. "Do you want the paramedics to check you out?" Mulder asked, one hand on the door, the other on the top of the car, leaning over her. "No. I'm fine.""We can go anytime. The sheriff takes over from here." Scully swung her legs inside the car and closed the door. As he came around the car, he cast her another glance. Scully sighed. He'd never let this lie until he had a good answer as to what had happened. Sometimes his tenacity was infuriating. "There isn't an answer to everything, Mulder," she said as he slid into the seat next to her."Did I say anything?" "You were thinking it."He grinned and turned the key. "How did you know what I was going to ask, Scully?" He threw an arm across the seat ." I just know you." "Oh?" He pulled the car into forward and headed them out the bumpy, road that had brought them here. Scully drew in another deep breath, feeling better by the
minute . . . and grateful. No nosebleed this time. The motel loomed before them, just as ratty as they'd left it this morning. Mulder guided the car into the last empty space. Scully opened her door and stepped out. Did she moved more carefully than this morning? He watched her carefully, going more on feeling than on observation. She never complained, even when he was sure she had reason,like now....He pocketed the keys and closed the car door. Two people didn't work as close together as they did and not become privy to each other's problems Especially when their work often took them so far conveniences and privacy. They knew things about each other they probably shouldn't know. But those confidences were part of the fabric of the relationship they each so valued.

"There's a Yankees game on tonight. Wanna watch in my room?" She turned and smiled her Scully smile, the one he saw too rarely,lately. "Sure. I'll bring food.""Are you sure you're all right?" he asked again as she reached her door and placed a hand on the door knob."Nothing I can't handle, Mulder. Stop worrying." Without turning around, she disappeared behind the hidious pink door.

The pre-game show went on and on, edged by the back ground noise of a restless crowd. A slight tapping at the door drew Mulder's attention away from the battery of sports statistics he already knew."It's open."Scully entered carrying a large, white paper bag. She wore sweat pants that bagged in the seat and a sweat shirt two sizes too large. Mulder smiled. He often wondered if she dressed like that intentionally around him just to discourage him. Especially when they were alone."What's in the bags?""Chicken." She set the bags on the low shelf intended for luggage. "Where'd you get it? I had the keys."She lifted out three cardboard boxes. "Right across the street. I'm surprised you didn't smell it." She arched an eyebrow and quirked a corner of her mouth."Very good, Dr. Scully." Verbal fencing with her was one of his joys. Well known to be a consummate smart ass, Mulder welcomed all challengers. Especially his stoic, serious partner.

He scrambled across the bed and poked his face into the tall bag. "What? No French fries?"

She held out a round cardboard container. "Mashed potatoes instead. Less fat and cholesterol." "Unless you add gravy." He moved closer to her, almost touching elbows. Another favorite game. What would she do? Stand her ground? Step aside? She elbowed him away. Two points, Dr. Scully.

The beginning of the game was announced by a surge of cheering from the crowd. Scully claimed the second double bed in the room, while Mulder resumed his position amid the rumpled covers of his. Companionable silence surrounded them as they ate and the game progressed.Warm companionship welled up in Mulder. She didn't enjoy the game as much as she let on. He knew that, but she tried to appear interested for him, preferring even his loud entertainment in preference to an evening alone in her room. Sometimes. Then there were times they simply opened the adjoining door to their rooms and went about their individual tasks, accompanied only be each other's noises.

Mulder whooped and Scully jumped, nearly dropping her chicken on the coverlet. She
grimaced at him, then felt her face go pale and a gush of blood shot out of her nose. "Fuck!" she sweared and Mulder gave her his always available hankershief. "Oh,Scully!" In his voice was more pain than she could bare." Mulder, I'm fine . See, the bleeding has already stoped . Don't give me that look. That has nothing to do with this afternoon."

But Scully wasn't fooled. He might not be looking at her, but his radar was going full blast. She sighed and stretched out on the bed, propping her head up with her hand.One play seemed to run into the next and her mind began to wander. Mulder was alternately eating his chicken and waving it in the air to emphasis some sports observation, his attention seemingly completely on the game. She finally gave up watching the game and watched Mulder. He knew anyway, she told herself. How long had they played this "knowing" game? Almost from the first moment they met. Once she got used to him, they had settled into a routine of just knowing what the other was thinking. Was it a familiarity born of friendship, some unnamed thing between them? Or was it product of the job? Perhaps she'd never know. Sometimes it was better to let the unknown just lie. How many times had she told Mulder that?

Scully's eyes began to droop and a warm complacency drifted over her. The bed was soft and her spot in it warm. She slid down until her head was cradled on the pillow. She knew she should just give up and go to her own bed. But, somehow, spending the night there alone wasn't especially appealing. Besides, if she drifted off, Mulder would wake her when the game was over.

The cheering crowd faded, and a deep, gray shadow surrounded her. Her limbs were heavy and she drifted somewhere between wakefulness and sleep. A bright light jarred her and she squinted her eyes to shut it out. But, it persisted, making red shadows behind her lids. Her arms were too heavy to move. Something cold and sharp was scraping the inside of her arm, then there was a sharp pain as it punctured a point near her wrist. Her quick intake of breath was painful. Hands, cold, clammy, rolled her to her stomach. The same slimy hands lifted her hair and touched her neck. Cold metal touched her skin, slicing, drawing. Quick pain filled her mind. She tried to cry out, but her sounds were muffled, existing only in her own mind. Something slid inside her skin, something strange, alien. Pain was new and tight, spreading through her with a deep ache. And when she thought she could stand it no more, warmth began to chase away the hurt. She uncoiled, relaxing, grateful. The bright light vanished, replaced once more by the comfortable gray. She floated there, cushioned, comforted by a beat that came and faded in a steady rhythm. She moved her head and brushed her cheek against something warm, soft. The gray began to recede and awareness creep in. The rhythm still repeated over and over and she realized it was jarring against her ear. She raised her head with effort and brushed a cheek against . . . . stubble? Her eyes flew open. An arm snaked around her back and aslender hand rested on her side. "Mulder?" "Hmm?" He was stretched out beside her, cradling her head on his chest. One hand held the remote and the channels flipped by silently, flashing against the austere room walls."What time is it?" she asked."A little after three."The beat of his heart must have been the rhythm she hadheard in her dream. Had she cried out in reality as she had in her dream?

"Mulder, what are you doing?"He flicked off the set and laid the remote on the bedside table. Light from the bathroom bathed the room in a comfortable glow. He slid up on the bed, and rolled her away from him, holding her shoulders in his hands until she faced him. His undershirt glowed comfortingly white in the dim light and his old, rumpled sweat pants made him seem part of the bed. Soft. Comfortable. Had she noticed before? Yes."Scully, when was the last time you have seen the oncologist?"
Her dream came back with clarity. Oh, dear. What had she said in sleep? Or done?""His gaze wandered over her face, measuring the truth by her eyes. "You cried out and you were curled up so tight it looked like you were in pain. Again." Scully ran a hand over her eyes. "I must have been dreaming, having a nightmare. Surely you can sympathize with that." She expected the barb to draw some comment from him but he ignored the reference to his frequent bouts with nightmares and plunged on like the adept investigator he was.

Muschi Muschis
"This really isn't any of your business." She tried to squirm out of his grasp, but he held her, not with his hands, but with his heart, his concern. For some reason her resolve to hide what she had been feeling was fast disappearing.

"I respect your privacy, yes, but not when you refuse to see that you need help. I've been watching you. You've had more of these pains than just today, haven't you?"Scully fought to keep her mouth from dropping open. This was like having somebody else in her head, thinking her thoughts, feeling her emotions. His steady hazel eyes calmly regarded her, doggedly, just like he went about everything else. He'd settle for nothing less than the truth.

"All right, if you must know, I've had then for about a week and I'm going to see Dr. Kline as soon as we get back. Satisfied," she lied.He tipped his head slightly, that quicksilver brain of his assessing what she'd said, weighing her words against his own observations and his own idea. Like watching a computer work. "Nope, but it'll do for now."

His words hung over her head like a premonition. Or maybe it was a guardian. She couldn't decide if she liked his hovering. Had he always hovered like this? She thought back as he settled himself in the pillows and flipped the television back on. No . . . this was something different, she decided, noticing he made no effort to go back to his own bed.

"I think this place gets the SciFi channel. Want to watch?" He passed through the channels until the Saturn icon appeared at the bottom of the screen. Without asking her, he pulled her against him, snugging her to his side.

Every logical thought in Scully cried out that she should get up and go to her room. But, this was nice. Very nice.Already he was engrossed in a black and white, horror rendition of aliens-invade-the-earth. The flickering light allowed her to see the trace of dark stubble on his face and the tiny mole on his right cheek. She dropped her cheek to his shoulder, and breathed in the combination of laundry detergentand just pure Mulder that followed him around. Her cheek settled into the soft cavity of his collarbone, her shoulder wedged in the crook of his arm. They fit very nicely together.
Her brain went into repeat mode, spouting every warning, every possible consequence of these actions. Then her heart just turned it off. Peaceful moments were precious, especially in their line of work. Who were they hurting in a ratty motel room in the middle of nowhere watching 1950s horror shows at three am? Scully snaked her arm across his stomach, feeling soft fabric beneath his hand, and hooked her fingers around his left side. His cheek brushed the top of her head and his arm drew her closer until the warmth of his body diffused with hers.
*********************************************
Washington D.C. 5days later

Washington was cold and rainy. So what else is new? The basement floor was especially deserted today. He liked that. With a muffled whistle he swung off down the hall. His office door was locked. He'd beat Scully in. Keys jangled as he unlocked the door and swung it open. The sharp scent of musty files and paper filtered out and he inhaled. Ge was right in time. Scully was not yet in the office. He glanced at his watch again, leaned back and smiled. She'd fallen back asleep on his shoulder sometime between their three am viewing fest and dawn. But he hadn't. No amount of much needed sleep could have rivaled the three hours he had to watch Dana Scully unobserved. There were no more nightmares.

She'd even smiled in her sleep, and snuggled closer to him. He'd have given anything to know what she was dreaming about.A surge of dangerous emotion washed over him. You're getting into treacherous territory, Mulder. Memories of her nosebleed returned and he sighed. Did she tell him the truth? His intuition awoke and yawned, then kicked into overdrive. Cold fear inched its way up his spine until it congealed at the base of his brain, tickling his consciousness. What was it he should be remembering? Some small thing, something Scully had said. He ran a hand across his eyes, concentrating.

"Mulder? Is something wrong?" A soft hand touched his shoulder and he jumped."Scully. No. I was just thinking." Was her face a little pale? Hard to tell. She applied makeup so you could hardly tell she wore any. Yet, he'd found it on his shirt more than once. Did she look a little drawn, a little tired?"Where is that file on the crop circles?" She was unloading her case, scrambling through the folders."Aren't you leaving early today?"She halted her search and turned. "What ever gave you that idea?"

"Well, you said you had another doctor's appointment. Or, that you were going to have one." She slammed her hand down on the stack. "You're starting to sound like my mother. Are you sure you're feeling all right? You've certainly been acting strange lately."His eyes darted away from her. Very un-Mulder.

"I'm just concerned. How many times have I woke up to find you holding my hand by some hospital bed." He shrugged off her gaze and searched through the pile of folders on his own desk. "More than I want to remember, Mulder. In fact, when mytemples go gray, your name will be on most of the hair follicles."He grinned, but didn't look up. "Now, what were you saying about crop circles?"

He was willing to let the subject drop there and she wasgrateful. She didn't know how much longer she'd have been able to keep up the cheerful banter. Her head ached terribly again, except now it was a dull, persistent pain, not the stabbing pain from earlier. If he knew, he'd pester her to death until she made an appointment.
She slanted a glance over at him. He'd put on his glasses and seemed absorbed in a folder.

A smile tugged the sides of her mouth. That night in the motel, she'd dropped back off to sleep early into alien film #1 and her dreams had not been painful, but disturbing nonetheless. Thoughts that shouldn't be drifted into her mind.

"Scully." "What?" Mulder pulled his glasses off by one temple. "Telephone." He held out the receiver to her. "Didn't you hear it ring?" She shook her head and took the phone. "Yes. One o'clock will be fine. Thank you."She handed the handset back to him, ignoring his raised eyebrow. "I'm leaving early today.
***********************************************************************
"Okay Dana, we are finnished. You can sit up now."

Scully scooted back into a sitting position, grateful the exam was over. Dr. Kline stood, and patted her shoulder. "I'll have Connie call you whenthose tests come in and we'll make an appointment to go over them. You take care of yourself, Dana." He went out the closed the door quietly.

Scully scrambled off the table, cringing as the paper gown fell away andthe cool air struck her skin. Quickly, she dressed, picked up her insurance cards at the front desk, and pushed the door open into the cool afternoon. An ancient maple stood in the corner of the office lawn wearing an incredible dress of flaming orange leaves. Scully smiled, remembering the tree being shorter, not as full, but always as beautifulin the fall. As she walked to her car, she knew someone was watching her.She slowed her pace as she reached her door, turned and cast around the parking lot. Mulder.

"What do you think you're doing?" Mulder jumped and hastily stuffed the magazine between the seats. "I was waiting for you." He grinned up at her. "I wanted to see if you wanted to grab a late lunch." Scully yanked open the passenger door and sat down. "This is so unlike you. What is going on? You may be a lot of things. Tenacious.

Stubborn. Pigheaded. But nosy isn't one of them. Give." Mulder sighed and leaned his head back against the headrest. Just when Scully thought he was going to ignore her all together, he leaned forward,a frightening look in his eyes. "I am afraid for you, Scully. You had often nosebleeds but the headache gives... all of this... a... new ..dimension." Deep, troubling emotions hid in his eyes and Scully felt a flare of fear. Mulder's intuitions were very good.

"I told you what I thought was wrong and that's what Dr. Kline said. It's just a migrane Satisfied?" His eyes searched her face with an intensity that make her hands tremble.
She laced her fingers together. "And you trust him?" "As much as I trust you." His expression changed from guarded to . . . something. Tenderness? Itrocked her to her core. His hand crept over and covered hers. "That's a lot of trust." "Yes, it is." His fingers squeezed hers briefly, then he moved back to his side of thecar. "So, do you want to get lunch?" Dr. Kline stood at the window, raising the tiny slats of the blinds. He watched the couple in the car, saw the man lean over toward the woman. Shakily, he sat down on a stool and stared down at the strip of paper in his hand. Wavy lines laced back and forth, sometimes off the paper.

"I hope, Dana, that he loves you. You're going to need him."
The silent hum of machinery could be infuriatingly aggravating, Mulder decided, trying to find someplace to put his long legs. The woman across from him in the waiting room peered at him over her magazine for the twentieth time and he thought she was going to scold him for wiggling any minute. He sighed, feeling like a little boy again, and stretched his legs out in front of him. The magazine lady pointedly looked down at his feet, them back up at him. < Just let her say one thing.> "Mr. Mulder?" A tiny blonde nurse stood in the door, a clipboard in her hand. "You can come back now." Resisting the urge to stick his tongue out at the Magazine Lady, Mulder rose and followed the nurse down a sterile hall and into a room. Scully sat on an exam table, a blanket pulled around her shoulders. She turned tired eyes on him and shoved back her hair. "Dr. Cotton will be with you in a few minutes." The nurse dropped the file in a plastic tray on the door and gently closed it. Mulder stood in front of Scully and took both her hands in his. As he suspected, they were icy. "How are you?" "I'm fine." She nodded, issuing her standard answer. "A little tired. Dr. Cotton did more tests than he'd thought at first. He said we might as well get them over while I'm here.""Does this mean no dinner and dancing tonight?" Mulder squeezed her hands. Scully smiled. "How about dinner and couch?" He cocked an eyebrow. "I don't know. Sometimes couches can be more dangerous than dancing." Scully colored and opened her mouth to retort when Dr. Cotton tapped briefly on the door, then came in. Gray, was the color that came to Mulder's mind. Dr. Cotton's face was gray. Mulder turned slowly so Scully wouldn't read his face. Dr. Cotton stared down at the tests in his hands, then raised his eyes to Mulder. "Is this your fianc , Dana?" Scully glanced at Mulder's back. Feeling the prick of foreboding, she answered, "Yes. Fox, this is Dr. Cotton." The doctor shook hands with Mulder, then sat down in a chair. "Dana, I'd like to put you in the hospital for a few days to observe you until all these results come back." "Hospital? Why?""Well, the results I hold in my hand, quite frankly, defy anything I've ever seen before. I agree with Dr. Kline in that this is above my
expertise." Scully glanced at Mulder who had sat down in a chair, his legs spread out
before him, crossed at the ankles. Trying to look nonchalant when he knows what's about to be said, she surmised with rising panic. "What do you suggest?" Dr. Cotton looked about to shrug, then he scratched his head. "I have an associate in oncology. I'd like him to take a look at these tests and that lump on your shoulder." "Does having him on the case require that I be hospitalized?" Fighting down the panic."No, it's not required. Look, Dana, colleague to colleague, I have no idea what we're dealing with here. I don't know how fast it's moving. I just know it's progressing. Dr. Kline took these readings just yesterday. Now look at this." He placed a new sheet in her hand. "These levels are up by 20%. But what that means, I don't know. I'm just trying to protect you from the unknown." Scully smiled at his words. From the corner of her eyes, she saw a smile tugging at Mulder's mouth, too. "The unknown and I are old friends, Dr. Cotton, but I thank you for your concern. I'd like to take my chances and stay at home until you can arrange something ." "I expect it will be a week. Maybe more. I'll have my office call you." He rose and moved toward her. "Good luck, Dana. And to you, too, Fox." Then he disappeared out the door. "Did he seem a little pessimistic to you?" Scully asked. Mulder uncoiled himself from the chair and stood in front of her. "All doctors are pessimists. I have that on good authority." He touched his forehead to hers, then gave her a hand to slide off the table. Stiffly,she moved toward the curtained dressing area and pulled the pink sprigged material closed. She could hear him pacing the room, nervous like a caged animal. Did she have any right to subject him to this? To include him in things that obviously made him very nervous? Small doubt given the times he'd been in the hospital. She yanked the curtain aside and he jumped. "Playing with the instruments, Agent Mulder?" she asked as he hastily replaced a lid to an old, glass container of cotton balls. "I always wondered if they really had alcohol in there or just water and they told us it was alcohol." She tossed her hair back and smiled, looking much like the old Scully."Your paranoia knows no limits, does it, Mulder?"

Frohike looked even more disheveled than usual as the computer screen flickered. "I found Hagopian's records mixed in with some other classified material. Basically it was hidden in plain sight." He pressed a series of buttons and the cursor bounced to the bottom of the screen. The background turned brilliant blue and white characters marched across the page.

"It says here that while she was in the hospital, but before they put her on so much pain medication, that they found an unidentifiable enzyme in her bloodstream." He punched another button and a chemical equation popped up on the screen. Frohike leaned forward and rubbed his stubbly chin. "That's very interesting. This contains a metallic. See there." He pointed to a small section hooked onto the diagram of the molecule. "Nothing like that occurs in nature." He turned toward Mulder. "Is this what's the matter with Scully?" Mulder leaned back in the ratty chair. "Frohike, do you have a life? "Do you?" Touché . All right, try this. Do you know everything? How'd you find out about Scully? Tap into the hospital records?" "I called your office and they said Agent Scully was out sick." "You win. So, what do you make of this?" "I'd say it's something artificial. Something injected gradually. See this." He pointed to another area of the diagram. "This part makes it very fragile, very susceptible to being broken down by the body. Kind of like Contact. Do you remember Contact Cold Medicine, Agent Mulder? Good stuff. All those little time capsules floating around in you. Same sort of thing." "So how would you get rid of this and reverse its effects." Frohike's expression softened. "It's really bad, isn't it?" "Yeah, it's bad."

"This got anything to do with that thing in her neck?" "Everything." "Well," he turned back to the screen. "First, I'd deactivate the enzyme. Then, I guess we let nature take its course."

"What about Becky Hagopian?" "They never found out what this was in time. Some of the other members of MUFON have come down with the same thing, as you know. But," Frohike leaned closer. "They found out that if they let all these people die, they'd have no control group, no research results. So they manufactured an antidote, so to speak."

Mulder sat up. "How do I get it?" Frohike leaned away and sighed. "I haven't figured that out yet. But, I'm watching them. I'll find out. Give me some time." Mulder swallowed, feeling as through the prize had just been ripped out of his hand. "I don't know how much time she has."
*********************************************
" Come in."

Mulder stuck his head around the door and held out a bag from the White
Dragon. "Chinese?" Scully glanced out the window. Was it evening already? Where was the time going? Speeding by so fast and she couldn't grasp it and hold on.

"Scully?"

"What. Oh, yes." "You want something else. I can just-" He pointed back down the hall.

"No, that's fine. I was just someplace else." She stood. "Just let me change. I'm tired of these pajamas." She moved toward the bedroom and heard Mulder go into the kitchen and start opening cabinets and the refrigerator."I hope you're shedding those clothes in favor of other clothes." Scully laughed softly. "Very funny." "I wouldn't object, you know." The words were said lightly, teasingly. "You'd run right out of here, Mulder, and you know it." She stopped pulling the sweater over her head and stared into the mirror. There was silence from his side. They had never mentioned what had passed between them that night. Always the gentleman, Mulder had graciously said nothing the next morning, even when she awoke on the couch in his arms. His only comment was that his circulation was beginning to suffer. Scully walked to the closed door and listened. He was still in the kitchen, humming some out of tune something under his breath and clinking silverware. Resting her forehead on the cool wood, she wondered what she had ever done to deserve the unqualified trust he put in her, even though her job at the beginning had been to debunk him, to try and derail the X-files through plodding, methodical logic. Yet, even then, he'd drawn her into his spell, brought her over to his side and firmly embedded her there. At his side. As he'd promised to stay at hers.

"How did you know that's just what I wanted." Scully pushed away the white carton and sat back in the kitchen chair. "I told you. I know what you think." Scully, feeling suddenly mischievous, leaned forward and rested her chin in her hand. "OK, what am I thinking right now?" He stared at her a moment and put his fork down ceremoniously. Entwininghis fingers he rested his chin on them, elbows propped on the table. Then, he blushed.

"Dana Scully. You should be ashamed." Scully's mouth hung open. "I was not-. I was thinking about baseball scores." He grinned at her and resumed scraping the bottom of the carton. "But that's not what you wanted to be thinking about." Scully shoved back her chair. "You're impossible." "That's not what the girls say." His voice followed her into the kitchen. Scully smiled and threw their empty cartons in the trash, then wandered over to stare out the window at dancing shadows thrown by street lights. How much time did she have left? The question had rattled around in her head all day. She might as well recognize it. It wasn't going away. Is this what her life would amount to? A pile of unsolved mysteries left abandoned on her desk? Nothing significant left behind? Helplessness threatened to overcome her, but she swallowed down her panic and tried to make her brain think rationally. She should leave some document, something that expressed her wishes. Somehow, she felt, doing that would at least bring some organization to this chaotic mess facing her. And, if things went well, no one need know. The jangling of the phone startled her. She heard Mulder scrape his chair back and pick up the receiver. He lowered his voice suspiciously. Scully started forward, but her feet wouldn't cooperate. She'd wait for Mulder. Some inner yearning wanted to hear this from his lips. Only his. If his voice said the words, she could grasp it better, accept it. She closed her eyes and waited. His breath was warm on her face. Warm, strong arms went around her and drew her close. "You're being admitted to George Washington in the morning. The oncologist wants to start tests as soon as possible." Fear leapt up, but diminished as his hands rubbed up and down her back, keeping her face pressed close. "Go home, Mulder." He pulled away from her slightly and tipped her face up. "You don't mean that." "Yes, I do. I feel helpless enough in this without monopolizing your life. Go on. I'm going to bed anyway." He stared down at her a minute. "You're sure?""I'm sure." "I'll be by in the morning to pick you up." "Mulder, I can drive myself to the hospital." "I'll be by to pick you up." "You're not going to have a job if you don't go to work, Mulder." "I am working." Scully dropped her arms and stepped back to stare into his face. "I think this qualifies you as an X-file."

Rain made rivulets of distorted light on the window. Scully watched the water drain down the glass, then glanced at the clock. Two o'clock. The uncertainty. The lost future, lost plans and dreams. Her optimism was fleeing.

A key turned softly in her lock, but the usual surge of fear didn't come, nor the urge to grab for her weapon. He took off his shoes, stubbed a toe and cursed softly under his breath. Then, in sock feet he padded toward her bedroom, dropping his coat on the floor. Scully lay still, waiting knowing his sounds. She'd known he'd come back when she sent him away. But she needed these few hours, needed not to have to cling so tenuously to her cool demeanor, needed not to have to see the sorrow in his eyes . His footfalls scraped softly across her carpet and around her bed to the other side. The mattress gave under his weight as he slipped between the sheets. One arm crept around her waist and pulled her close. Scully let him slide her closer, and a tear she didn't think she possessed oozed out of her eyes. His chin came to rest softly in her hair, his breath fluttering on her ear. Fox Mulder in her bed. She smiled. How often had she thought of that? But, tonight she needed him beside her, needed his quiet assurance that she wasn't alone.

Water was the first thing on Scully's mind. She licked lips cracked and dry. A straw came between her lips and she sucked thirstily. The cool water seemed to clear her head and she opened her eyes. No longer in the recovery room, she was now in a private room with sunlight pouring through the window. Mulder stood over her, his hair wonderfully mussed, dark shadows of beard clinging to his cheeks. Sleepy hazel eyes watched her,flickering from her face to her hands. She raised an arm and felt the sharp reminder of the IV. "When did they move me?" "Very early this morning." Scully raised one hand and placed it over his fingers gripping the bed rail. "Go home and get some sleep. I'll be fine. They'll probably discharge me today." He hesitated, wavering leaving her side, but she knew he was dead from lack of sleep. "I promise I'll call you the second I need you. And I have this to remind me of you." She raised the finger that still wore the ring. "Put my phone up here." She indicated her chest with one hand. Mulder put her cell phone on the blanket and flipped on the television set for her. "Call me when they decide to discharge you. I'll come pick you up." Then he bent down and gently brushed her lips with his. "See ya." He turned, snatched his coat off the chair and glided through the door. Scully watched the door close and instantly felt very alone.

Plopping one foot in front of the other. He stopped in front of the elevator and pushed the button. As he waited, he glanced back down the hall, feeling the emptiness between them. He glanced back toward her room again.
*********************************************

Mulder started as the phone resting on his chest jangled. He picked it up and ran a hand across his face. "Mulder." A faint hum of machinery filled the space where a voice should be. "Scully?" "Can you come?" Her words were strained, almost unrecognizable. "Scully, what is it?" God, how long had he been asleep? He glaned at his watch. Nearly eight hours.

He thought he heard a sob. "Please . . . .""I'll be right there. Don't hang up." He scrambled around his apartment, looking for his shoes. He'd slept in his clothes again. Staring down at the rumpled pants and shirt, he shrugged and slipped his feet into his shoes. "What is it Scully?" "They found more." Ice water emptied into his veins. "More tumors?""It's different, Mulder." "Different? How." Mulder took the phone into the bathroom with him. "There's pain now." He braced himself against the wall and drew in a breath. "I'm leavingnow." He hurried out of the apartment, hurriedly grabbing a bulging folder from the table. Despite static and wavering signal, he kept Scully on the line as he backed his car out and tore toward the hospital. He kept her talking as long as he could, desperate to hear her voice, to have some part of her with him. Then when her strength fled, they listened to each other
breathe. Mulder's tires squealed as he turned into the parking garage, snatched a
ticket from the machine and wheeled into the nearest space. "I'm downstairs, Scully. I'm coming up the elevator now. I'll be right there," he said, hurrying toward the concrete pillars that enclosed theelevator. Knowing the phone wouldn't receive in the elevator, he lingered.

"I have to hang up. The phone won't pick up in the elevator." The elevator car moved slowly and he pressed the sixth floor button. As the doors opened he hurried out and down the hall. He stopped shock still as he entered the room. Another IV solution had been added into Scully's other arm. Dr. Cotton stood by her bed, his face blaring his fear and uncertainty. She turned her head to stare at him and his heart dropped. Mulder knew. Without asking, he knew. "I think you better call Mom," she whispered.
********************************************

"Chemotherapy isn't what it used to be," Scully said, forcing a spark of cheerfulness into her voice. "The drugs are more specific, more carefully dosed." She glanced at Mulder, head down, staring at the floor. "I might not even lose my hair." His head came up, his eyes intense, seeing through her. "When is your mom coming?" Scully shifted in the bed, already tired of being confined. "She said as soon as she packed a few things. You know, I'd love a Coke." Mulder rose, trailing his fingers across her folded hands. "I'll be right back."

Scully watched him stride through the door and turn down the hall. Often, studies said, optimism and love were the two variables in a medical situation that could unexplainably tip the scales in the patient's favor. Well, the optimism she could handle on her own, but the love? Mulder strode back in, a canned Coke in each hand. He popped the ring and poured hers into a cup with a straw, then held it to her lips. "I'm not helpless," she said, taking the cup from him, wincing silently as the IV needle stung. He eyes twinkled. "Ooh. Dr. Scully helpless." But he could imagine it. Too vividly. She smiled at his remark and he smiled back. Her gaze was fixed on him, studying, assessing. "I'm sorry for putting you through this." "Compared to what I've put you through, I presume." "That's different. That's my job."He took her hand, cold and bruised. "And this is mine." He raised hiseyes to hers. "What are you saying, Mulder?"He rolled the tiny toy ring around until the stone was on top of her hand. "You kept this on." "The color matched my eyes.""Scully, I-"She cut him off with a hand across his mouth. "Don't." She shook her head. "Not now."He gazed into her eyes, calm, reasonable. Again, Agent Scully was weighing the situation , analyzing it. He squeezed her hand and wondered if anything would ever again be this hard.

4 weeks later

"Scully?" He put his ear to the bathroom door. "Are you all right?" "I'm fine, Mulder." Her voice came from below. She was sitting on the floor. Probably lying on it by now. "I'm coming in." "Don't you dare."

The bathroom door opened. Scully walked out, clinging to the stand, marshaling as much dignity as possible. He noticed she'd dusted her cheeks with makeup to hide the terrifying paleness that made her freckles shine.His first instinct was to lunge for her, to scoop her into his arms and carry her back to her bedroom, but he fought against it. As long as Scully could stay on her feet, move herself back and forth as needed, that terrible fear stayed out of her eyes. "Remember the night on the couch?" she asked, her cheeks pinking for a moment, then fading. Mulder closed his eyes for a moment, the memory rushing back with all the accompanying emotions of that night. "Not likely I'd forget that." He swiped back a piece of hair and tucked it behind her ear. "Why didn't you . . . you know?"He smoothed a hand across her cheek. The lumps were more visible now. In her neck, beneath the skin of her chin. Several on her shoulders, even though lately she'd taken to wearing an old fashioned high-necked gown to hide them. "The time wasn't right. We both knew it." "We've never talked about . . . right times." Her fingers fiddled with the edge of her blanket. "I think we've both known for a long time." He caressed her cheek and his breath caught. "Since Oregon?He grinned and she caught his smile. "The tan underwear turned me on, Scully." She laughed then, the wonderful, tinkling sound he loved.

The phone jangled and Mulder moved to answer it. Scully gave him a weak smile and sat down on the edge of her bed. Mulder pulled his gaze away "Mulder," he answered. "Oh, hello dr. Cotton. Uh huh." Scully listened to the soft tenor and closed her eyes. She could pick his voice out in a crowd. In a mob. That little hum of conversation, thoughts running back and forth between them. Then, his voice shifted, climbed higher, strained. Bells of fear went off in her head. "What is it, Mulder?"´He sat down on the bed. Sank done was a better word. "What did he want?"Mulder entwined her fingers with his. "He's looked at your latest tests. The chemotherapy isn't arresting the growth. He thinks surgery is in order."

*********************************************

Mulder sank his face into his hands. The stone steps were hard and cold, the air almost freezing. But he welcomed the pain as he breathed in deeply. Unshed tears ached in the back of his throat and in his temples. He'd had to get away before she saw the truth in his eyes. Dr. Cotton had shown him extraordinary pictures of the tumors looping their way through Scully's body. Had it been a case, he'd have been amazed and enthralled at the wonder of it. But this wasn't a case. This was the woman he loved amd trusted. Damn, she was his partner! Legs stiff, he pushed himself up and reached for the door. A hand caught his arm. Mulder turned to stare into a face, hidden in shadow. He pressed a tiny glass vial into his hand. "This is what you seek, Agent Mulder." "The treatment?" "You must stop the surgery. If the tumors are exposed to the air, they will grow faster, bigger, consuming her body." Mulder flung him a wild look, then yanked on the door he'd just exited from. Locked. Taking the stairs in a leap, he dashed for the next entrance.

Locked.

"They will try and stop you. She's the strongest, the only one to´grow them to fruition. Hagopian died of heart failure, but Agent Scully is stronger." Mulder dashed around the side of the hospital. The nurse shift was changing and a stream of white-clad women were exiting from a back door. He leaped over the railing and ducked inside before the door closed. He was in the back of the hospital. Near housekeeping, he judged by the smell. Taking the hall at a lope, he rounded bend after bend, hoping to find the elevators.
*********************************************
"Where is he?" Scully asked, struggling to keep the nurses face in focus. They'd already been in to give her the twilight shot before they took her to surgery. "He'll be here," she comforted, but Scully's fuzzy mind registered the worry on her face. "He went outside for some air." Scully felt for the ring, a tiny, pitiful link between them. Scully know the lumps had grown, knew they clustered on her organs, shoving her skin out of the way. Where was Mulder? She had to see him before they took her. She had to.

*********************************************
Mulder skidded to a stop as he rounded a corner. A dark-suited man in a long coat paced quietly by the elevators. He turned to look down the hall in both directions. The elevator bell rang, doors slid open, then shut again and the man didn't get in. Mulder flattened himself against the wall. He had to get to that elevator. An out of tune whistle drew closer and the man at the elevators faded back until he lounged against the wall. A towering man in white scrubs rounded the corner pushing a cart of dirty laundry. Mulder laughed. "Right out of the cartoons," he muttered under his breath. The orderly stopped and stepped into the laundry room for clean linens and Mulder climbed in the cart. Instantly he gagged and clamped a hand over his mouth. He peered up at the orderly who shoved the cart, frowned, then shoved it harder. Together they rolled in front of the elevator man and stopped.

Mulder's stomach roiled again. Pushing out of his mind what he was laying in, Mulder breathed in and out only occasionally and prayed the orderly was going up. The elevator pinged again and he heard the door slide open.

"What have you got in there," a bass voice asked. "Dirty linen," the orderly answered. "Why do you want to know?" The Consortium had to get better operatives if even hospital orderlies could spot them. "We're pursuing an escaped mental patient. He'll try any way to get out of the hospital."The orderly paused a moment. "Well, if he's in here, he won't be hard to find. He chuckled as a man that enjoys his work. "Yesterday they served prunes."

Mulder clamped a hand firmer over his mouth and prayed he wouldn't throw up. The cart slid quietly into the elevator and the door shut. "You can come out now." The man's voice changed drastically from the lazy drawl to a finely clipped British accent. Mulder peeped up from his hiding place. "Here, put these one. You'll get on the surgery floor easier." Mulder crawled out, gasping for breath. "Who are you?" The man smiled. "X marks the spot."

"We have to take you in now, Dana." Someone grabbed her gurney and began to move it. "No! No, I have to see Mulder." " He'll be waiting here when you come out of recovery." "No." Scully fought against the restraints holding her hands firmly to the gurney. "Is it really necessary to tie her down like that?" someone was aski "Oh, don't worry. We do that so she won't tear out her IVs. It's just standard procedure." Scully wanted to scream that no, it wasn't standard procedure, but the words wouldn't form. All she could think was that Mulder wasn't here and she wouldn't see him again. "Well, I guess we could wait a few more minutes." Scully cracked open her eyes, summoning the few remaining tendrils of consciousness and looked into the nurse's eyes. They were cold, calculating. "No. I can't do this. Don't let them-" The words died on her lips and she fell into the blackness.

*********************************************
The green surgical scrubs left little place for Mulder to hide his gun, so he tucked it into the string waistband and tied the cord tighter. "Good luck," the orderly said and punched the 'Door Open' button. The mirrored doors slid open and Mulder stared out at a bustling surgery floor staff. Hesitating a moment to get his directions straight in the sterile, same-color halls, he stepped out and heard the doors close behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and wondered again about X. A black and white plastic sign screwed to the wall pointed out room numbers. Mulder headed toward Scully's hall, holding his desperationin check. He glanced at his watch, remembering the time of her surgery. They'd be taking her out of her room any minute. He picked up his walk, trying not to look as if he were hurrying. He rounded the corner and saw the foot end of a gurney coming out of a room.

"Scully?" He leaned over the bed and stared into the face of anold woman. Swinging around, he realized he was two rooms off. Stepping off the distance, he hurried inside. The room was empty, the bed neatly stripped. All evidence of Scully gone. "Excuse me," He grabbed the arm of a passing nurse. "Where is the woman that was in here?" The young woman frowned and shook her head. Mulder moved back into the hall, panic growing. Could they have already taken her? Already exposed the tumors?

Already killed her?

Ahead were two doors, 'Operating Suite' labeled above it. Mulder headed for the doors and shoved them open. White-clad nurses and doctorsscurried from room to room, paying him no attention. Trying to focus his attention on his search and not on his growing fear, Mulder snatched a mask off a supply cart and quickly tied it around his face. Blending with the surgical staff, he ducked into the first room where suited doctors labored over a man, a sheet wall between his head and his open chest. The next room was empty, as was the next. Maybe they've taken her out of the hospital. The thought crashed into him. Of course they wouldn't want to expose the whole of the hospital to the tumors. Not yet.Not until they were ready. Mulder left the operating suite and turned down a small, obscure hall.

All his reasoning telling him this lead to another supply closet, another voice grew within him. A voice he'd heard for four years. There were no words, no pleas, just a presence that grew stronger with each step. One door opened off the hall. Not stainless steel, like the other doors on the floor, this one was painted white, obscure white. His hand clamped down on the door knob and it turned under his grasp. He drew his gun and opened the door a crack. A waiting room with cheap plastic furniture and artificial flowers waited for him. He stepped inside, cautiously glancing in all corners, scanning for additional doors. The only one lay directly in front of him. He stepped forward and the voice within him grew stronger.

Placing his hand against a stainless steel panel on the door, he pushed and the door swung easily. The group clustered around the table didn't see him at first, then one masked nurse swung to stare at him, her eyes wide. A man in white stepped around the team. "See here, this is a sterile room.""FBI. What's that patient's name?" Mulder motioned toward the gurney with his gun. "Agent Mulder, there's nothing you can do here now." The doctorstepped forward, his voice deep and familiar. Dr. Cotton. "Like hell there's not. Step away from her. All of you." He moved until his back was against the wall and he had everyone in plain view. "Get over there where I can see you." He herded him with the waving gun barrel. "Scully? Scully." He glanced down into Scully's face. "Mulder?" The words were slurred, almost indistinguishable, but he'd have known his name on her lips anywhere. "I'm here."

"I wanted to see you before . . . ." Her words drifted off. "Scully. Stay awake Scully. Fight against it." She struggled to´roll her head toward him. "I was waiting for you. I made them wait." Mulder watched the staff, his mind whirling. He'd have to put the gun down to roll Scully out. While he was hesitating, the door swung open again. Dr. Cotton lunged for the opening, trampling nurses in his haste. A body blocked him and he almost bounced back.

"I beg your pardon, doctor." The orderly from the elevator surveyed the scene. "Need some help, Agent Mulder?" Mulder nodded. The orderly took the foot of the gurney in his hands and wheeled it toward the door, Mulder following.

"Your last name's not Ranger, is it?" Mulder asked, backing out of the room. "As in Lone?"They cleared the waiting room and were finally out in the hall. "Find a phone and call for backup." The orderly hesitated, then shook his head slowly. "No need. They're already gone." Mulder frowned, then stepped back inside the room. It was empty. He grabbed a syringe off a table and moved to Scully's side. He filled the tube to the amount on the tiny bottle of liquid from X and quickly injected it into Scully's IV tube. "Thank X for me," Mulder said as the last of the liquid drained out of the syringe. The man in the white scrubs smiled. "You and I will meet again, Agent Mulder." Then, he turned and sauntered down the hall disappearing around a corner.

"Scully?" Mulder holstered his gun and leaned over the gurney. Her eyes blinked and opened. I knew you'd find me. "Mulder. Where have you been?" She frowned and wrinkled her nose. "Oh, Gosh you smell bad."
***********************************************************************
The vial was almost full, gleaming golden in the faint lab light. Dr. Cotton held the serum over his head and smiled, thanking fate for Dana Scully. She was the only one to live long enough to show any effects to the alien DNA. Killing her was an afterthought, he decided,really not particularly necessary. Even if she managed to acquire thecure he'd still have this. It would have taken them years to produce this much serum without her help. He admired the vial once more and placed it in the lab coat pocket. Checking outside the door, he picked up his golf bag and sauntered down the hall and into the warm sunshine.
**************************************************************************
Someone was holding her hand. She tugged gently. At least her arms wasn't tied down. Fingers caressed her skin, rolling her fingers between theirs. Very sensual. "Mulder?"

Opening her eyes, she stared straight into his hazel ones, leaning over her, staring intently "I was wondering when you'd wake up." Gently, his lips touched hers and his cheek rested against hers. "I'd have done that a long time ago if I thought it would get a smile out of you more often." She stretched, suddenly aware the pain was gone. His expression changed from teasing to tender and he lowered her bedside and sat down. His fingers played over her neck, her arms, her collarbone. "The tumors are already going down."Scully frowned. "What happen "Dr. Cotton was about to do some unauthorized surgery on you." Scully's eyes widened. "What do you mean?" "I'll tell you all about it later." He caught her hand and turned the toy ring. Scully looked down, wondering after all that had happened why it was still there. "Just how attached to this ring are you?" Scully scrubbed an adjoining fingered against the rough plastic´surface as she'd done while in the operating room. She'd been sure he'd find her. If she only thought hard enough. Concentrated hard enough. Spoke to him with her heart. "Pretty attached." She gazed up at him, his eyes open, readable for the first time since she'd known him. She laid a hand on his thigh and found it warm, soft. Memories rushed back. His body soft against her. His warmth, her warmth. Their skin close, satin to silk. "Tomorrow we go back to being Mr. And Mrs. Spooky." He picked up her hand, caressed it for a moment, then slid the ring off."While you were sleeping, I had an urge for more crackerjacks." He slid something else on her finger. It was cold and smooth and snuggled into the little niche next to her hand. "And this was the prize."Scully raised her hand. A simple diamond sparkled where the blue, plastic stone had been.She looked into his face. His lips were curved tenderly, his eyessoft. We haven't talked about this, Mulder. Our hearts have talked about it for years. Marry me?Scully's eyes widened. "Did you say something?"He smiled, hazel eyes darkening with emotion. "Not in so many words."