LIBERALITY

Liberality is written by Ridgley Warfield. All rights to this fan fiction belong to me. The X-Files are a licensed production of the FOX company and I do not own the characters in this plot. This story is completely fiction, thought up in my own mind, and is in no way true and probably not compliant with the tv show. However, do enjoy, it's not one of my better stories, but those are still being typed up.

He heard the faint whir of his cell phone somewhere in his head as he slept. After the third ring, he finally woke up and fumbled in the dark room for the phone.

"Mulder." His voice was rough with sleep and rubbed his tired eyes.

"Fox," a woman's voice strained through obvious tears. For a second he searched his memory for a face and a name to the voice; then his heart stopped in recognition.

"Mrs. Scully, what's wrong?" Oh please not Scully, he thought silently.

"It's Dana. She had another seizure." Mulder felt his mouth go dry, panic rising from the pit of his stomach.

"Is she okay? Where are you?" He couldn't think straight through the concern and grief over his partner.

"I think you should come down to the hospital, Fox." Mulder's heart sank; he'd known this day would come, but he never prepared himself for it. He had watched his partner, his best friend, fight her cancer bravely. He suffered with her, but tried not to treat her any different, tried not to notice or mention her failing health.

When Scully's nose bleeds, faint spells and seizures began to occur more often, he knew it was time to take her off field duty, he just wasn't ready or willing to let his hope die; to say goodbye to the only person he trusted. Wordlessly, Mulder hung up his phone after hearing Scully's room number and moved to his desk. He pulled a stack of papers from the top drawer, tracing the edge as he stared as the subject line: REQUEST FOR REASSIGNMENT. He signed the forms, replaced them in his desk and left his apartment.

**********

Scully was sleeping as Mulder entered the room. Margaret Scully looked up from the bedside, offering a weak smile before looking back at her daughter. Dana's auburn hair seemed to be the only color left in her body. Her face was deathly pale, her eyes sinking further behind the dark circles. Even her lips seemed to be a pale blue instead of rosy and warm.

"She tried to stay awake, but the medicine was too strong." Mulder placed a hand on Margaret's shoulder, offering support and comfort to the dishambled woman. "She can't fight it much longer, Fox."

Mulder looked at Scully with a deeper look. Once a proud, strong, beautifully independant woman, Dana Katherine Scully had become gaunt, pale, weak, lifeless. Special Agent Scully was dying. She had been one of the FBI's best agents, but because of Mulder she had been discredited by working on the X-Files. He blamed himself for her cancer, but above all, he blamed the Cigarette Smoking Man. Her illness had the smell of Marlboro all over it.

"Has the doctor said anything new?" He finally spoke, pulling a chair next to the bed and sitting, hands clasped together, leaning on his forearms. Margaret's dark eyes shimmered with tears, causing Mulder's hopes to sink further in the sea of depair.

"Dana wanted to tell you, but...she might not wake up."

"I'll wait until she does."

"No, Fox...she may never wake up again." The words slammed him like a frieght train. A frieght train with alien bodies, all marked with a vaccine, all burned to death. A frieght train carrying whatever it was that had led them to the bee incubators, to the alien ship, where the Cigarette Smoking Man had tried to use Scully in his cloning process. A train of lies and deceit. Mulder wasn't prepared for any of this, it was happening too fast and Scully's life was slipping through his fingers like sand.

It wasn't fair. He was going to lose the only treasure he had found, the only ray of hope in his life-long quest for the truth. He knew that truth would come at a price, but if he'd known Scully's life was the toll, he would have walked away without a second thought. She was far more important than any truth he could ever find. Suddenly, he felt like that 12 year old boy again, helplessly watching his sister being taken, only this time it was someone he cared about more than anyone or anything.

"Fox," Margaret brought him from the self pitying thoughts and back to the small hospital room. "Dana knew this time would come, and she prepared herself for it as much as possible." She reached into her purse and pulled out a white envelope, handing it to Mulder. "Read it only when you're ready. I think I'm going to spend some time in the chapel. Will you be with her?"

"Of course." He moved his chair closer to Scully and took her frail hand as Margaret left the dimly lit room. "Scully?" It was a futile attempt to try and wake her, but it was worth a shot. He sighed when she didn't respond, trying to control his emotions. Mulder wanted to shake her awake, if only for a second, just so he could let her go in peace. Death would be on his terms.

"Scully, why did you stay with me? Why didn't you leave the X-Files when you got the chance?" He closed his eyes briefly, reflecting on the losses in his life. "It's too much, I can't lose you too. I should be the one in that bed, the one who's dying, but that would be too easy for them. Scully, I can't go on without you. You taught me how to believe myself, believe my own theories. We had the proof to solve every case, but it was always taken from us, now you're being taken from me and I have nothing." He hated himself, he was a jerk. His partner was dying and all he could think of was himself. Mulder hung his head in defeat.

"Do you always confess at someone's death bed?" Scully's voice startled Mulder. His head snapped up to look at her. Scully's eyes were still closed, but her lips were pulled into a tiny smirk. He fumbled for words, but nothing came from his mouth. Dana opened her eyes slowly from the silence and chuckled.

"Didn't you wear that yesterday, Mulder?" He looked down at his rumpled day-old work shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbow and collar undone, and slacks. The typical Mulder, complete with morning stuble along his strong jawline.

"It was either this or the Eric Clapton shirt from 5th grade." He countered, playfully.

"You don't have to stay, Mulder. I'm fine."

"I want to stay, Scully. I happen to enjoy bare hospital rooms and the smell of starcy sheets." She gave a small smile of unspoken gratitude and looked at the blank tv screen mounted on the wall.

"What I said is true, Scully. The X-Files will die with you."

"At least I won't be alone." She quirked, sarcastically. Mulder flinched, obviously hurt and she looked at him sardonically. "Mulder, the X-Files were never mine. They'll still be here even if I'm not."

"Don't you see it, Scully? The moment you started working with me and I knew I could trust you, the X-Files became part of you just like you became part of me. You were my hope, my motivation. You kept me grounded and honest, Scully. Everything we've found, all that we've come to know, lie inside of you. Once you're gone, they disappear."

"Mulder, the only thing you lose is me. Don't let my death knock you off course. I knew the risk of working on the X-Files, but I took that risk. They're playing a game, Mulder, and if you quit, they win."

"They win anyways, Scully. I can't...you mean too much to me now." He looked down like a hurt dog and she tightened her grip on his hand.

"Go home, Mulder." She knew he didn't need to be around her sulking. It would only confuse matters and make things harder to deal with. She'd let go, why couldn't he?

"No, I'm not leaving. You can't expect me to walk away this time. You can't say that nothing's going to change, because everything will change, Scully." He couldn't stop his anger or the resentment in his tone. Finally, things added up to to much and the cap flew off his enternal emotional bottle like the cork in a wine bottle. Fox Mulder did what he feared the most, he broke down in front of Scully. Dana had seen him hurt, has even seen him cry, but now Mulder racked with uncontrollable sobs, muttering appologies and promises he would have to break.

Scully tugged him forward and mustered up enough strength to hold him against her while he cried. Her hand soothingly stroked his mahogany colored hair until his cries subsided. Even after he quieted, he didn't move away. Scully felt the emotional tug in her own heart, the thin wire between her and Mulder that she thought she'd broken. She wasn't afraid of death, until now. She would never see Mulder again, and there was still so much left undone.

"Do you think if I give up the X-Files cancer man will provide a cure for you?" Mulder wondered aloud, still trying to be optimistic.

"Mulder, not even he has the power to cure me."

"It's worth a try, isn't it?" She sighed in agitation and he moved to see her expression. He'd seen that look before, a look between scientific knowledge and hope. "What if I'm right, Scully? What if he has a cure?"

"Then he's controlling you, Mulder. Once again keeping you at bay from the truth. Every time I'm in danger you come to my rescue, and it's always just before we get our proof. I'm your strongest weakness, Mulder, and he knows that. I think that's why I was sent to work with you. To stop you from ever finding your truth."

"Then if he does know a cure, I'd rather have you by my side. There can be other times, other cases, but I want you alive more than I want a solution to our quest." Our. She thought. It's no longer just his...it's ours.

"Have you ever thought that maybe my death will release the truth, Mulder? If he knows you'll come, he's expecting me to survive and therefore cover everything up again. Maybe you win if I die."

"If I lose you to win some truth about my sister, then I want to be the loser in this game, Scully. I'm used to losing, so what do you say?" Scully thought long and hard for what seemed like hours. She chewed her bottom lip, weighing the consequences. If she didn't agree, she would die. At least she had a chance of survival if she said yes.

"If you give in and I still die, I'm coming back to haunt you." She finally decided. Mulder smiled and Scully leaned back against the pillows. "Just don't tell my mother."

"You mean I can't involve her in our conspiracy?" He joked.

"Mulder, you hate conspiracies."

"Only when they involve lies, Scully. Justice for all, that's the new motto."

"Hmm...that's nice, maybe they'll make a t-shirt for you." He grinned and she rewarded him with her own smirk. "Go away, Mulder, I'm tired." He stood and leaned down, kissing her forehead.

"I'll be back later, Scully." She nodded, already nodding off.

As Mulder walked down the hall, he passed a nurse he didn't recognize. She was stern looking and had a military crispness about her. She nodded to him and imediately he knew whatever medication she had, it was for Scully.

**********

"Mulder, stop hounding me, I'm fine." It was the tenth time that day Mulder had asked if she was all right. She hated being mother hened, especially by her partner.

"Scully, it's only been a week since they released you, don't push yourself too hard." Scully couldn't remember if she had thanked Mulder or not for once again sacrificing for her. Somewhere in her mind she heard the bitter thought that it was about time, but pushed it aside, realizing all the times he'd put her ahead of his quest. She felt guilt sink in at her selfish thoughts. Scully had spent so much time covering for him, she'd forgotten everything he had done for her.

"Mulder," she waited for his hazel eyes to meet hers. "Thank you."

"Just put it on the tab, Scully. You can pay later."