Date: Sat, 31 Jan 1998
Title: Drift Away
Author: Marguerite
Classification: Mulder/Scully Angst
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Cancer Arc, Gethsemane
WARNING: CHARACTER DEATH
Summary: Mulder, who has been hidden away after his faked
suicide,
comes in from the cold to say goodbye to Scully.
DRIFT AWAY
"It's a good thing you got here when you did, sir,"
said the floor
nurse, a gentle-voiced woman in her forties. "She's been
declining
steadily the last few days. It could happen any time." She
opened the
door to a small private room and showed him in. "For the
last few days
she's been unconscious off and on. We've got her on the maximum
amount
of morphine we can give her." A comforting hand went on his
arm. "It
was a courageous fight."
Mulder, gritting his teeth against the fear that was sweeping
over him, nodded at her.
"I know you did everything you could,"
he said softly.
"I'm very grateful to you."
"I'll leave you alone. Call if you need me."
Amidst the tubes and bandages, Scully was nearly lost from view.
Only her scarlet hair broke the monotony of the white bed with its
pale occupant.
Mulder had to draw very near to make out his partner's
face,
lines of pain around her mouth and between her eyes even as she
slept.
With a heavy heart he took one paper-thin hand and held it to his
lips.
"I'm here," he said softly. "I'm here."
There was no response. The shallow breathing was regular and the
impossibly white skin was cool, but the person inside was far, far
away. A heart monitor registered slow beeps. Bending low over her,
Mulder touched the bandages on her forehead and kissed them very
softly. "I'm so sorry. I wish someone had told me sooner; I
would
never have let you go through this alone. I got here as soon as I
could." Still there was no sign of recognition, and his
heart nearly
broke. "Please try to hear me. I came to say goodbye. I
wanted to see
you--to hear your voice one last time. Please..."
Scully stirred faintly, a tiny moan of pain escaping her lips as
she
struggled to break the surface of consciousness. With a great
effort
she opened her heavy eyes. It took a moment for her to recognize
him,
confused as she was with morphine and the sight of a man she knew
to be
dead, and she blinked silently for a few moments. At last she
smiled
through cracked lips. "You came back for me," she
whispered.
"I came to see you," he corrected gently.
"Aren't you going to take me with you?" Her voice was
plaintive.
"I'm ready to go. I've missed you so much."
"Oh, Scully, I've missed you, too. But now I have to tell
you
something. Can you understand me?"
As she awoke fully her eyes were bright even through the haze of
pain.
"I don't know if I ever understood you, Mulder."
"I know," he said, laughing a little, yet at the verge
of breaking
down. "I wanted you to know something. That night in my
apartment--that wasn't me you saw." There was bewildered
silence.
"It was a construct, Scully, made by the same people who made the
alien corpses."
"Then you didn't--you didn't commit suicide?"
"I wanted to. I intended to. Then Skinner turned up; he
confirmed
what you said about the conspiracy giving you cancer to make me
believe." The green eyes filled with tears. "I was
insane with guilt.
Skinner told me that your only chance at survival rested on my
absence,
that maybe the cabal would keep you alive if I was gone. I was
wrong."
"Mulder. All this time you were alive?" She tried to
reach for him,
but her hands were too weak and fell limply at her sides.
"Why didn't
you tell me? I'd have kept the secret."
"I know." He took the fallen hand and held it close to
his heart as he
continued. "Skinner thought it best that you really believe
I was
dead. For your own protection. He's hidden me away all this time,
mostly in Mexico. But yesterday I heard...he called to
say..." At last
his voice cracked and the tears began to fall. "I didn't
want to let
you go through this alone, but Skinner never told me how sick you
were.
I'd have come back in an instant if I'd known. If only I'd
known..."
"Don't. It's all right. I'm just sorry you have to see me
like this."
He looked at her, at the colorless face dominated by her huge
aqua
eyes, made larger by the dark circles beneath them. She was so
thin,
her body a fragile porcelain cocoon from which the soul longed to
burst. He shuddered. "I never should've let Skinner put me
into
hiding. I should have been here for you, Scully."
"They did everything they could. Surgery, chemo, plus some
pretty
radical treatments. But now it's over and I'll finally have some
peace." She laughed, then coughed, wincing. "I was
looking forward to
seeing you on the other side, so you could finally tell me how
right you were."
"I've seen it, Scully. I was dead for a few minutes in
Mexico,
after I was in a car accident." He touched her face,
looking deeply into her sad eyes.
"You don't have to be afraid. You'll be with your
father and
Melissa again. I saw my father. And Samantha.
"Then she's really..."
"At least now I know." They were silent for a few
moments,
thinking, then he asked: "Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Is it morning or night?" was the seemingly irrelevant
question she used as an answer.
"Early evening. Why?"
"Would you take me outside? I haven't seen the sky in so
long."
Suddenly she hissed as the pain returned in a crashing wave.
"Wait."
She watched the monitor on the morphine pump until the green
light came
on, then she pressed the button at her side. She moaned at the
burning
sensation of the liquid entering her body. "My veins are
worn out, but
it doesn't matter anymore. I want this to be my last dose. I'm
ready
for it to be over." She appealed to him with her eyes.
"Will you help
me?"
"Scully." Miserable, he watched helplessly until the
drugs soothed her
agony and she smiled weakly at him. "I know you're
tired," he said
softly. "You've been very brave for a long time, Scully. If
this is
really what you want..."
"It is," she said firmly, her eyes fixed on Mulder's.
He nodded, blinking back tears. "Then let's go." He
unplugged tubes
and monitors, waving away the nurse who rushed immediately into
the
room. "Please--just let us be," he begged, and the
kind-hearted woman
nodded her consent, touching Scully's hand as she removed her
life-sustaining equipment and wrapped her in a blanket. With
incredible
gentleness Mulder lifted her in his arms; she felt almost
weightless, as
if she were nothing more than the spirit that was slipping away.
The
nurse opened the doors for them and they found themselves in the
hospice's garden. Mulder seated himself on a park bench, Scully
across
his lap with her head on his shoulder.
"It's nice here," she whispered. "It smells so
fresh."
"It's been a pretty spring. Can you smell the cherry
blossoms?"
"I think so."
He reached up a long arm to pull down one of the graceful
branches,
taking a blossom in his fingers and stroking her cheek with it.
"It's
so soft," she murmured. She wiggled her fingers a little,
grimacing at
the effort. "Would you mind holding my hand?"
"Of course not," he answered quickly, taking her hand
in his and
stroking it, mindful of the bruises where IV lines had taken
their
toll. "You have the smallest hands I've ever seen. I thought
about
that when you first introduced yourself to me; I was afraid of
breaking
your hand when I shook it." He smiled gently. "I didn't
know then just
how strong you really are."
"Not any more. I'm so tired, Mulder. I don't know how I
lasted this
long. Maybe I was waiting for you."
"Maybe." He cradled her closer, feeling her exhausted
body clinging to
the last moments of life. "What're you thinking about?"
"My mother, and my brothers. I wanted to say goodbye to
them."
"I'll tell them," he promised. "They'll be
comforted that you've
gone to a place where there's no more pain."
"That's what's so strange--there is no pain. It just seems
so
peaceful." She paused. "I'm still a little scared,
though."
"That's okay. I'll help you." Adjusting his position,
he was able
to look directly at her. "Just keep looking into my eyes. Focus
on them,
and think back on the things that made you happiest. You don't
have to
talk; just think about them and look at my eyes."
Even through her pain and fear she could see his anguish.
"Mulder, are those tears?"
"A few," he admitted, trying to smile. "Just
relax. I'll help you
find your way home. You're going to be all right now, Dana."
"Dana?" she queried archly. "Now I know I'm
dying." They both
laughed; Mulder put his hand on the side of her face and looked
compassionately into her eyes.
He was surprised to find himself so composed at watching her
prepare
to leave him, her lips forming a gentle smile as she let her
friend's
comforting face ease her fears. She found that her own eyes felt
heavy
and she struggled to stay awake. "Don't try so hard,"
Mulder told her.
"When you're ready, just let yourself drift away. I'll be
here."
"I'm sorry," she said. "I want to stay with you,
but I can't hold
on any more."
"I know, I know." He kissed her forehead. Stifling the
sob that rose
in his throat, he put his cheek next to hers and whispered,
"We'd better
say goodbye, then."
"Goodbye, Mulder. Fox. Thank you for--everything." She
pulled
together all her strength and squeezed his hand. "Last
favor?"
"Name it," he told her in a voice full of sorrow.
"Please--kiss me."
With his whole soul on his lips, he took her head in his hands
and
pressed his mouth to hers, lingering until he felt the rush of
her last
breath and she fell limp in his embrace. "Goodbye,
Dana," he wept,
still holding her tightly with his anguished face turned to
heaven.
"Oh, God, please, if You're there...help me...take care of
her." The
evening chill turned his tears to stinging frost, but nothing
felt as
cold as the body he sheltered so lovingly.
It was dark, stars shining brilliantly against the night sky,
when
Skinner came up from behind him and put a hand on his shoulder.
"Agent Mulder."
Skinner sat on his heels, looked at Mulder's face, and swallowed hard.
"'Now cracks a noble heart,'" he quoted softly.
They had drifted away together, never again to be parted.
Comments to: marguerite@swbell.net
END