From: "whitewolf" <whitewolf@theonramp.net>
Subject: And The Band Played On
Date sent: Mon, 11 Aug 1997

Title: And The Band Played On
Author: Whitewolf
Rating: PG, although in movie land it would be PG-13, for adult language
in parts, talk of sex and sexual actions, although nothing graphic or even
remotely descriptive, and some mild violence.
Classification: SRA
Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance
Summary: Mulder contracts a deadly disease, and Scully has to help him
overcome it.

Disclaimer: Everyone you recognize most certainly doesn't belong to me,
but, they do belong to CC, 1013, and FOX, as you all know. If you happen
to watch Days Of Our Lives, let me assure you that while the doctor in my
story is named Mike Horton, it is not the character from the soap opera, I
just couldn't think of a better name. :-)

Note: The plot of this story may at first seem quite unfathomable,
although I realize that most X-files rarely are. Please try to keep an
open mind. :-)

____________________________________________________________________________

Saturday, August 23, 1997

Fox Mulder was outside in the cool morning air jogging. He ran a lot,
mostly to calm down and to keep in shape. Today, he was out jogging just
to see the sun rise. Mulder felt good, great, and it was just a good day
to be alive.
His partner in the FBI, Dana Scully, had found out that she had cancer a
few months ealier. It hadn't effected her physically too much at first,
but then she started getting weaker and sicker. Until one day, she had an
appitite again. Then, her energy level picked back up. After running
tests, it had been determined that her cancer was no longer threatening her
life.
That bit of good news had been found out yesterday, and Mulder felt great.
He had always had faith in her that she would pull through, and beat the
cancer, however, she didn't always share his enthusiasm. She had lost her
faith in a lot of things, but Mulder and her mother, Magret Scully, had
both pushed her, and essentially kept her alive. With Scully's will power
back, beating the cancer was like ordering through the drive-through.
Easy.
The thing that Mulder liked the most though, was that their friendship had
become stronger because of it. Maybe Mulder wanted a little bit more, but
for right now, they were as close as two people could get without persuing
a more intimate relationship, and that was just fine for him. They <did>
things together now. Things that most people did with their best friends.
They went to movies, hung out, didn't always concentrate on work and the
X-files.
He knew what her favorite color was, he knew what her favorite flower was.
He knew <her>. Mulder didn't just know Scully anymore. He knew Dana, the
person behind Scully. And she knew Fox. And the more they found out, the
more they realized they never knew, and wanted to know.
A lot of people noticed the change in their relationship. Now, Mulder
and Scully were sometimes actually easygoing, relaxed. Not often, but more
often than before. Still, it did not affect their partnership. Instead,
it made it better. Their solve rate, which had always been above Bureau
standards, was now almost 90%. That was phenomenal anyway, but in the
X-files, it was impossible; until now.
But it wasn't just their friends and work associates that noticed. It was
others, like the foreboding Cancerman, and others in the Consortium. They
didn't like Mulder and Scully being any closer than they had been one bit.
Frankly, they hadn't expected her to live through the cancer, and were
hoping that it would tear the partnership apart. Then Mulder would leave
the FBI, and his work wouldn't become a crusade, like it would if they just
killed him.
So, Mulder, knowing all this, was having the best run of his life. The
air that was now burning his lungs felt great. Everything felt great.
That was, until he got hit over the head.

Dana Scully rushed into the hospital at eight o'clock that morning
wondering what Mulder had gotten himself into this time. She didn't want
to ever be inside a hospital again, but in the X-files, that was as
improbable as aliens coming to earth just to see if the McDonald's Bigmac
measured up to universal standards. She used her badge to get into the
examinaition room and found a half naked Mulder sitting on the exam table.
"Okay, Mulder, what happened this time?"
Mulder looked over at his partner, who had obviously been pulled out of
bed to come get him. Her red hair was tied up in a ponytail, and her blue
eyes still looked only slightly half awake. He grinned wryly, "Scully, did
you know that it's not even safe to go jogging in Washington D.C. anymore?
I swear, not even Bill Clinton would be safe. I was out running when some
idiot knocked me upside the head. I guess he was a mugger or something,
but I wasn't carrying anything, so he didn't get any money off me."
"How long were you out?" Scully asked, looking at his chart.
"I don't know, what time is it?"
Scully glanced at her watch, then looked back at the chart. "7:30."
"Then I was out about two hours," Mulder said.
"Two hours! He must of hit you hard," Scully went around to the back of
Mulder, checking his head.
"Well, I've got one helluva headache, so I'd say he has a pretty good arm.
There is one weird thing, though," Mulder frowned.
"Oh? Such as..."
"I was jogging out by the reflection pool when I got knocked out, but when
I regained conciousness, I was in an empty storage building two miles from
there."
Scully frowned too. "Did the doctor do a full examination?"
Mulder lightly grinned. "Don't worry, I don't have any alien implants.
It was just weird, that's all."
Scully relaxed visably. "Well, Mulder, with the extent of that head
injury, they'll probably want to keep you for a while, for observation's
sake." He looked grim, and she smiled a little. "However," he perked up,
"since I'm a doctor, I can probably get them to release you into my care."
Mulder looked at her anxiously. "Please?"
Scully laughed and went out to go find the doctor. When she came back in,
Mulder was fully dressed, and just about to walk out the door.
"You're a little optamistic, aren't you?" she addressed him.
"With you helping get me out, Scully? I'm not just optamistic, I'm one
hundred percent certain," he grinned.
She returned the grin. "Come on, let's get out of here. I don't like
hospitals anymore."
"Good, I'm glad, I always hated 'em."
Before she pulled out of the parking lot, Mulder turned to her. "And,
Scully..."
"Hmm?" she glanced over at him.
He gave her a serious smile, "Thanks for getting me out of one of the
situations I hate... again."
Dana smiled back, "Anytime and everytime Mulder. You know that."
His smile turned into a lopsided grin as he fastened his seatbelt.

Monday, February 16, 1998

When Fox Mulder walked into the office that morning, he got a concerned
look from Dana Scully, who had beaten him to work.
"Are you alright, Mulder?" she asked, taking in his ruffled suit, tousled
hair, and glazed hazel eyes. "I didn't hear from you since we got back
from the Brady case Thursday, and you look like hell."
"Gee, thanks, Scully," he muttered, flopping down in his desk chair. "Why
don't you say I need a hair cut and shave while you're at it."
She just stared at him, saying in one look, you're not getting out of
this, so you might as well just tell me what's going on.
"Actually," he relented, "I've just had some rough nights. I've been
waking up in cold sweats, and had a fever for the past couple of days."
Scully furrowed her brow. "Oh? Anything else?"
"Besides the horrendus mouth sores I've been getting? No."
"How long have you had the sores?"
"About a week, Doctor."
She gave him a look and went on, "And the other symptoms?"
"They started up Thursday night. I felt too sick to call you."
Scully nodded. "You should get checked out, could be the flu."
"The flu?" Mulder whined. "Damn, I thought I had made it through this
cold season."
Scully went back to typing her report on her computer. "Take today off
Mulder, go to the doctor."
"Why? You're a doctor."
"Mulder, I'm not going to take a chance on diagnosing you wrong, and you
ending up sicker because of it. Go, my orders."
Mulder smiled and started for the office door. I'll call you later,
Scully."
She nodded her head and continued typing.
Two hours later, her phone rang. "Scully," she answered.
"You were right, the doctor said I had the flu."
Scully smiled into the phone. "Ah, score one for me."
Over the line, she could hear Mulder chuckle. "Anyway," he said, "I guess
it would be best if we don't have contact for a couple of days. I was told
not to go to work." At the last sentence, his tone became defeated.
Scully smiled again. "Don't worry Mulder, you'll get better."
"Yeah, I know," he disconnected.
Scully shook her head and went back to typing.

Meanwhile, a man from somewhere in the FBI building smiled through his
smoke. Mulder and Scully's office and phones were bugged. He turned to
look at another man sitting across from him.
"You did a good job, friend," he said, his voice coming out in a slightly
musical tone.
"Thank you, sir," the other man said.
The cigarette man took out his gun and pointed it at the man.
"Unfortunantly, you cannot be trusted."
"Hey! This wasn't part of the deal! I get him sick, you give me the
money, and it's over."
"You should learn to not trust the Devil. Maybe this will stick with you
in Hell," the Cancerman fired the gun and the bullet came out of the
silencer, and in less that a minute, the man was dead on the floor. The
Cancerman picked up his phone, the smoke curling around him once again.
"Have someone come up here and take care of the body," he muttered, and
hung up, smiling. At last, Fox Mulder was finished.

Sunday, March 1, 1998

Scully took the elevator to Mulder's apartment, worried. After his flu,
he had come back to work, but then after the next weekend, he hadn't been
in for a week. She had talked to him on the phone, but today, he hadn't
answered, and his cell was out of service. The week that he hadn't come to
work, he had said that the flu had tried to hit him again, so he thought he
should rest.
Scully was really worried about him. Mulder didn't take off anymore
without telling her. It was another unspoken agreement that had come
between them during her experience with cancer.
When Mulder didn't answer the door, Scully went ahead and used her key,
and found Mulder curled up on his couch, holding his stomach and sweating
heavily.
"Jesus, Mulder," she said, alarmed, and went and got a wet wash cloth,
wiping off his face.
He was looking at her, but could hardly talk.
"Mulder, you're burning up, take off your clothes."
At this, he managed to quip, "Scully, are you coming on to me?"
"Mulder, this could be serious, take off you clothes."
"I... I would if I could," he muttered.
Scully helped him strip down to his boxers. He was finally cooling down.
"What's wrong Mulder?" she asked when it appeared he could talk.
"I-I don't know. I thought it was the flu, but if it is, it's worse than
I've ever had."
"Can you tell me your symptoms?"
"Um, night sweats, fever, diarrhea, I've had trouble breathing at times,
and I've gotten more of those mouth sores. Sometimes I feel like I'm
dehydrated, and other times, my stomach feels like someone is exploding
atomic bombs inside me. Oh, and lately I feel like I'm always tired," his
face was contorted, and he was getting really worried.
So was Scully, but for a different reason. "Mulder, do you have a scale
or anything to weigh yourself here?"
"No, why?"
"Just... get dressed, I have a scale at my place."
"Okay," he stood up and turned his back to her.
"Mulder, stop, but don't turn around."
He smiled a little, trying to cover up his fear at her obvious worry,
"What, are you going to shoot me, Scully?"
She didn't answer him, but walked over to him, rubbing a spot at his back.
"Mulder, come with me into your bathroom, I want you to see something."
He frowned, confused, but complied, and turned to look at his back in the
mirror. "Shit," he said, addressing a dark brown spot on his skin. "What
is that?"
"It's a swollen lymph gland. Get dressed, we're going to the hospital."

The drive to the hospital was a quite one. Scully kept her eyes on the
road, while Mulder kept throwing worried glances her way.
At the hospital, Mulder stood in the waiting room for a minute before
following Scully. She was talking to a doctor when he came up behind her.
"No, I know how to give the test myself." It appeared they were arguing.
"Look, <Agent> Scully, you know I wouldn't be letting you do this if you
weren't an FBI Agent <and> a doctor," the doctor told her.
"I know that <Doctor> Horton, this won't show up on your record, just let
me have the testing kit, and an examination room. Remember, Mike, you owe
me a big one."
The doctor sighed. "I know, Dana, I know. Just... I don't owe you
anything after this, because this could get both of us in trouble."
"I know that, just keep this off the record, and no one but me, you,
Mulder, and the hospital lab techs will know anything. And keep this off
Mulder's hospital records, too."
"Keep what off my records?" he finally spoke up.
Scully wheeled around to face him. "Nothing Mulder."
"Scully, talk to me."
"I just want to run a few tests to make sure that you're all right, and I
don't want the Bureau to know, okay?"
Mulder barely accepted this answer, nodding his head.
"You can use that exam room, and I'll have a nurse bring in the kit.
Tell me when you're done?" Mike said.
Scully nodded, leading Mulder into the exam room. "Thanks again Mike."
"Sure Dana, but remember, no more after this. Just because you got me
into med school-"
She smiled, cutting him of, "I know MIke, don't worry, this is the last
time, I promise."
Mike smiled his good-bye, "Alright, see ya later."
"See you Mike," the doctor walked off and Scully told Mulder to get on the
scale.
Mulder's jaw almost fell off when he found that he had lost about fifteen
pounds in two weeks. Scully sighed, closing her eyes.
"I eat regular as always, and exercise the same, if not a little less.
What's going on Scully?"
"I'm not sure yet."
"Dammit, you have to have some idea, or you wouldn't be dodging my
questions. And I have to admit, you've gotten pretty good at that where my
health is concerned."
"You're right, Mulder, I have an idea. I have a few, but I'm <not sure>,"
she said in a tone that kept him from making a comeback.
A minute later, a nurse walked in, wheeling a small cart behind her with
some various equipment.
"Are you sure you don't want me to do this?" asked the nurse.
"No, I'd prefer to do it myself. Come in five to get the sample to run to
the lab."
The nurse smiled before walking out the door. "Sure thing Agent Scully."
"Roll up your sleeve Mulder," she instructed as she got a blood pressure
cuff off the desk. "I'm going to draw some blood."
"Is there a reason that you're doing all this yourself, Scully?" Mulder
asked as she applied the cuff, then cleaned the skin over his vein.
"I just want to be discrete."
"Why?" he asked, wincing a little as she jabbed the needle into his arm
and started to draw the blood.
"Dammit, Mulder, I have my reasons," she snapped, transfering the blood
into sterile tubes marked with his name.
The nurse came in a couple of minutes later, as Scully was compressing the
puncture on Mulder's vein and putting a Band-aid over it.
"The results should be ready in one to two weeks."
"Rush this one, make it one." Scully told the nurse, who was just a little
taller than she.
"Okay, Agent Scully. Do you want us to phone you or Agent Mulder?"
"Me, please," Scully said.
The nurse nodded and walked out, carrying the blood test with her.
"Okay, Scully, don't you think it's about time you tell me what the hell
this is all about?"
"I'll tell you when I know, Mulder."
Conversation ended there, and the following week, there was hardly any
conversation un-work related.

Monday, March 9, 1998

"Scully," she answered, picking up her office phone. "Yes, I did. Yes, I
am. Look, I'm sitting, Mike, just tell me the results!" she snapped,
causing Mulder to look up at her curiously. He saw her face fall, and her
eyes well up with tears. "Okay, thanks Mike," she said, her voice soft
with defeat. "No, I'll be fine. No, I haven't. Yes, I'll tell him. I
don't know when! Okay, thanks again, Mike. Bye." She hung up and looked
over at Mulder, one tear falling.
"Scully?" he questioned, his brow furrowed, worried.
"Um, Mulder, after you get off today, come over to my place. Okay? I'm
taking the rest of the day off."
"Scully, what's wrong?"
She shook her head, gathering her things and hurrying out the door.
Mulder wasn't frightened by this, and her crying didn't scare him either,
nor the phone call. What embedded fear deep inside of Fox Mulder was the
fact that when Scully had looked up at him, he didn't see concern for him,
or hurt for him, he saw pity, and fear, and that scared him more than
anything.

Later that day, Mulder showed up on Scully's front door, and she took him
in. When the door was closed, she instantly pulled him into a tight hug.
Confused, he wrapped his arms around her.
"Hey," he breathed into her hair. "What's wrong?"
"We haven't had enough of these, you know that Mulder?"
"What, hugs?"
"Yeah."
He smiled a little. "Well, we got all the time in the world, you know."
She pulled away from him. "Come sit down. Do you want anything to
drink?"
"No, that's alright." He walked into her living room, sitting down on her
couch. Scully sat down at the other sied, and faced him. He flickered
over her features. Un-like him, she was already changed out of her work
attire, in a too large tee-shirt and jeans. On her, it was adorable. But
her face was weary, like she hadn't slept much in the past week.
"Okay, Mulder, remember the test I had you take?"
He shook his head up and down, yes.
"Alright, I had you take that test because you were having all those
symptoms. At first, everyone thought it was the flu, but thar wouldn't
explain the mouth sores, or the weight loss, or, more importantly, the
swollen lymph glands."
"Yeah, Scully, I've noticed another one of those on my upper left arm..."
"Right," she said, nodding her head. "Well... Fox," he looked up her
sharply, catching her gaze. This must really be serious. "They... they
are all signs of the progression of... H... HIV."
His face paled... HIV... His mind was screaming,
ohmygodohmygodnononononotmenotme. His voice, despite the inner turmoil,
came out surprisingly calm. "Scully, I don't have HIV, it didn't show up
on my last blood test."
"I know that Mulder. The test that I gave you last week proved positive,
and with you're recent bout with flu... and because of your other
symptoms..."she hesitated.
"What are you trying to say, Scully?"
"I"m saying that the hospital, and I, have determined that it's progressed
into AIDS." She was holding his hand now, her grip tight, and he was
grateful for that support, because if it hadn't been there, he felt like he
would just fall, like a rope breaking while rock climbing.
"No, Dana, not me," he shook his head. "I haven't even fucking had sex
in... months, and I never have unprotected sex. I can't have AIDS."
"Mulder, it's not nessicarily unprotected sexual intercourse that can give
you AIDS, it's-"
"I know how you can contract it, Scully! I've watched the biographies,
the programs! I don't use contaminated needles, I don't use drugs, I
haven't had a blood transfusion since I was shot in my leg, and my mother
doesn't have HIV. I can't have it!" His voice, now barely controlled
rage.
"Mulder, the test you were given was the Western Blot Test. That is the
most recent and the best test avaible. It's nearly one hundred percent
accurate. They've done the blood work at the hospital. I trust Mike, and
the technicians he had do the tests."
Mulder was still shaking his head.
"Fox, look, just because you have HIV doesn't mean you have AIDS, but in
your case it's different. AIDS hardly ever even appears in your system for
at least six months. What happened to you six months ago?"
"Shit, the mugging..." his face went two shades paler than before.
Scully nodded her head, before she spoke again, her face contorting
slightly with the physical efforts to keep under under control. "I don't
think this was a random mugging. I more than likely contracted my cancer
after I was abducted, but they couldn't take you for that long a time. It
would be traced directly back to the Consortium, but not now. Now, they
get some guy to knock you out, and more than likely, give you a blood
transfer through a hypodermic needle, or to some effect of that. I can't
be sure how they knew you would contract HIV or AIDS, or that it would hit
you so hard, but they did."
Mulder looked up at her, his gaze catching hers. "Why didn't you tell me,
Scully? Why didn't you fucking tell me when you decided to give me that
test?" his voice was rising, not in anger, but pain. He ran a hand through
his hair and held the side of his face. "I fucking trusted you to tell me
something like this! I had my fucking rights!"
Scully took a deep breath and released it, trying to keep calm, but her
voice betrayed her as it cracked slightly when she spoke. "I know, Mulder,
I know. I'm sorry. I just didn't want to get you worked up, because it
could have just as easily been a bad case of the flu. Fox, you have to
believe me when I say that I never thought it was possible, either."
"I have AIDS?" he asked, his voice almost questioning in tone, but he
knew. He knew for sure now, because it was Scully telling him, Scully
clutching his hand, Scully calling him Fox.
He looked over at her, and saw no lying, no joking, in her eyes, only
sadness and fear. Scully saw him about to break down, and enveloped him,
hugging him tightly. She knew Mulder would take this outwardly harder than
she had her cancer, because he simply was more outwardly sensitive in a lot
of aspects.
He allowed himself to cry in her arms. This was worse than her cancer,
for her there were treatments, cures. For her, there were family and
friends. For her, there was hope.
Fox Mulder knew he didn't have anyone or any hope, only Dana Scully, and
he latched on to her, his lifeline. This was too painful for him to
undergo alone, and at least he knew she would be there for him.
Scully felt his breathing start to return to normal, and then eventually
slow down, and she knew he was asleep, not because he wanted to be, but
from sheer exhaustion. She laid both him and herself down on the couch,
and fell asleep there with him.

Tuesday, March 10, 1998

When Fox Mulder awoke that morning, he found that instead of being on his
couch, he was on Dana Scully's couch. For a moment, confusion flooded his
sleep hazed mind. Then, the last day's events came flooding back to him,
like a demon, coming out of the night.
As much as his mortallity was scaring him right now, something else
terrified him, and that was the fact that although Dana had let him fall
asleep in her arms, she wasn't there right now. That was when relief came
flooding back through the sense of smell and aroma of coffee. At
least she hadn't left him.
Scully came walking into her living room and smiled at him softly.
"Morning Mulder. How are you?"
Mulder looked at her greatfully, knowing that she was trying to stay off
the subject of his... of... Christ, he couldn't even say the name in his
head. "I'm fi-... No, I'm not fine, Dana, I'm scared."
She looked at him, thinking that for all the world, he looked like a
little boy who had just lost his best friend. Scully walked over to the
couch, sitting down next to him, and took his hand in hers, just as she had
done the night before. "I know, Fox... I'm afraid too."
There was a moment of silence that passed between them, and to break any
possible tension, Scully spoke up again. "I, uh, called Skinner, and
requested the rest of the week off for me and you. I said you were sick
and that I was just tired."
Mulder nodded. "Thank you." He looked up at her then, catching her gaze
so she couldn't lie to him, because he knew that if provided the opening,
on his next question, she would. "How long can I expect to live?"
She held his stare, "Well, most AIDS patients live anywhere from half a
year to two years..."
Mulder sensed the catch. "But..."
"But I don't believe that this is the case for you. Even Mike is only
giving you four to five months, and this is because it's hit you so hard.
Mulder, I have reason to believe that they gave this to you directly
through a blood transfusion of sorts. That's probably why you were so
wiped after the mugging. We have to tell-"
"No!" he interrupted her sharply.
"Mulder, why not?"
"Scully, if one person knows, then everyone will know, and I can't let
that happen. I'll always be remembered as Spooky Mulder, but I don't want
to die as a drug user, or someone who frequently has unprotected sex with
any number of women. Not only will this project on to me, but on to my
mother, my sister, you..."
"Skinner has to know, and so will half the others in the FBI that have to
take a look at your medical records."
"I thought you said that this would be kept off the record."
"Mulder, they can't keep <this> off the record. That would be like saying
Sam was never taken from you," she said, trying to get her point across.
"Why the hell not!?"
"Because Mulder, you have AIDS! You can't give blood anymore, you have to
get treatments, the doctor that unwittingly tries to save you by
sticking his hand in your blood could get infected, these people have
to know these things, Mulder."
"So what should I do!" he yelled, his fear evident in his voice. "Should
I go out there with some fucking peice of paper stamped to my head
proclaiming I'm an AIDS victim? Is that what you want?"
"Dammit Mulder, that is not what I want and you know it! Mulder, there is
only one thing I want."
"Yeah, what is that?"
"I don't want you to die before you're dead. I don't want you to die at
all."
They both quieted. When Mulder finally spoke, his voice was below his
normal speaking level. "You said I have to get treatments. I thought AIDS
wasn't treatable."
She took a deep breath and let it out. "Technically, it's not, but they
do have certan treatments that can prolong your life."
"Such as?"
"Well, AIDS is not the direct killer. Most AIDS patients die from certain
opportunistic illnesses, so scientists focused on developing drugs which
may delay the onset of these illnesses. You will probably go on some type
of one of the drugs, more than likely azidothymidine, called AZT, or
didanosine, called DDL. There are some other drugs, but these two are the
most common."
Mulder nodded his head. "So, why are you guys giving me less time than
other A-... people with this disease?"
"Because you've already come down with the flu, and that is one of many
opportunistic illnesses."
"I beat that virus."
Scully sighed. She wished that he could see that she was dying with him.
"Mulder, it left you extremely weak, you could contract pneumonia, which is
the leading cause of death among AIDS patients, and there are esophagus
yeast infections which are also common, that could leave you dehydrated and
cause weight loss. You could get Kaposi's sarcoma, or Cytomegalovirus..."
she trailed off, looking up at him.
"Scully, don't use all of those medical terms on me, I know what Kaposi's
sarcoma is, but Cytomegalovirus..." He looked confused, afraid, hundreds
of emotions swirling in his eyes.
"It's an eye infection, that most likely would eventually cause blindness,
but it is rare-"
"Scully, I don't want you to try and comfort me, I just want to know what
I'm up against. Now, I'm going to ask you this, and I want a straight
answer from you... Scully, what would you, as a doctor, tell me about my
chances for living longer than six months were?"
Scully's eyes widened and she looked deep into his eyes, as if trying to
penetrate his soul. "Mulder... In all seriousness, I would be generous to
give you 30/70 odds."
Mulder closed his eyes and swallowed. Scully was just about to say
something else when her phone rang. "Scully. Yes sir. Sir, I wanted to
tell you when I felt-" she was cut off. "No sir. No sir. Right away,
sir." She hung up. "Mulder, that was Skinner. He wants us in his office
ASAP."
"I don't know if I can do this, Scully."
She held out her hand. "No, you can't. But, we... We can."
He looked at the out stretched hand, back at her, and then her hand again,
and entwined his fingers with hers. "Thank you Dana, for everything."
"As I said before partner, anytime and everytime."
They walked out the door, together.

Skinner was angry. No, he was seething. He couldn't believe that his
agents would keep something like this from him. Even when Scully had
gotten her cancer, he had known about it, but he had to find out about
Mulder and his disease from not only hospital records, but Cancerman. He
had a right to know, dammit! He had never directly done anything to Mulder
and Scully that hadn't come straight from the top, and he'd even done some
unorthodox things for them.
And still, they didn't even trust him as to keep their medical records
confidential.
There was a knock at his door. He didn't even have to ask to know who it
was. "It's open."
In strode Mulder and Scully, his rouge agents, his unorthodox agents...
his best agents.
"Sit down," he said, still looking some paper work on his desk. When he
finally looked up at them he said, "I thought I told you to tell <Mulder>
to come, Agent Scully."
She matched his stare, "Sir, with all due respect, I don't care <who> you
asked for, if it involves Mulder, it involves me."
Skinner had to say, he was a little surprised. At the beginning of their
partnership, they were just that, partners. Not anymore, obviously. They
were more than that. He let it drop, knowing that he wouldn't win an
arguement with Dana Scully at this point. "Okay, I want to know why the
hell I wasn't told about Mulder contracting HIV."
Scully spoke once more. "Sir, we believed at the time that this was the
best course of action. We didn't even know until yesterday that he did
indeed have HIV, so instead of you asking another question, can I ask you
what gives you the right to go snooping around in Agent Mulder's hospital
records after me calling us both in for a couple of days?"
Skinner was outraged now. "What gives <you> the right, Agent Scully, to
question my authority?"
Her voice now matched his in pitch. "What gives me the right? I already
have it! Can you honestly tell me that you have not talked to that
chainsmoking bastard in the past fourty eight hours?"
He looked down, silenced for the first time in his career.
"Sir?" Mulder said, speaking up. "Can you please tell me what you called
us in for, because if it was just to ream us out-"
"No, Agent Mulder. I wanted to tell you that I'm going to have to tell
the staff doctors and some of the technicians here at the Buearu about
your... condition. They need to be notified, and I wanted to make sure you
knew."
"Thank you sir, is that all?" Mulder asked. He had a feeling that he
should take over talking to Skinner, or else Scully might find herself out
of a job for assult and battery.
"Yes, it is. You're dismissed."
The two agents were almost out the door when Skinner stopped them. They
turned and looked at him. "Agent Mulder, I'm sorry, truly sorry."
Mulder nodded and Scully, still angry, just clenched her jaw. As they
walked out, Skinner could barely hear Scully mutter, "Hollow words for a
hollow man."
They closed the door and Skinner rocked back in his chair, taking off his
glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose, all the while wondering where
he had lost his compassion. That was when it hit him. His compassion had
never dissapeared, just been doused by authority. Well, he made his silent
vow, not again, not anymore.

Sunday, April 5th, 1998

Hours had turned into days had turned into weeks. Mulder decided to get
on the drugs and light treatments for his disease. He still found it
almost impossible to outwardly say he had AIDS. He and Scully spent more
time than ever with each other now. It was almost a twenty-four hour a day
thing. He was in all senses, living with her. The only way he could ever
get away from his demons of the night was to fall asleep right beside her,
and while the relationship was still one-hundred percent platonic, he still
slept in her bed at night, his body spooning hers.
In a way, they both found this comforting, this new level in their
relationship. It was now an unbreakable bond.
They never talked about Mulder's mortality. It was too uncomfortable for
both of them, to think about him dying.
So, this evening, they were both relaxing. They had come off a horrendous
load of paperwork, that had them both fully frustrated. Despite
everything, they wanted to be out on the field. Mulder was sitting on the
couch with Scully, his arm causually draped around her; physical contact
was now almost constant as well in the ever changing relationship. They
were watching some movie that neither one was really listening to, both of
them lost in their own thoughts.
Dana changed her position slightly, her elbow lightly grazing Fox's lower
ribs.
He jumped slightly. "Jeeze Scully, don't do that."
A grin formed on Dana's mouth. "Why, Mulder? Are you a little," she
repeated the action, and to her delight, produced the same reaction,
"ticklish maybe?" Her grin grew a little wider.
Fox tried to be serious, although he could feel his own lips quirking in a
smile, "No, not at all Dr. Scully."
"Really?" She muttered, and lightly trailed her fingers over the entire
side of his ribcage, sending him squirming. "Hmm, I think you need a
second opinion on that."
He looked down at her, and decided to return the game, hitting the ball
back on her court. "I think..." he said, grazing his own fingers over her
lower ribs, "that we could give the same analysis to you."
She shivered, and giggled a little from the sensation.
The game was on, and they both started trying to get at each other, both
laughing and giggling through the whole experiance, finally pulling each
other into a hug, both out of breath.
Their breathing soon returned to normal, but they found that neither one
was willing to let go.
It was Mulder who broke the scilence, but he never finished his thought.
"Dana, I..."
She looked up at him, her eyes concentrating on his, and he found that he
was lost, unable to speak, and so, he tried to express himself without
words, and the only way he could acheive this was to slowly lower his head
to hers, and softly press his lips to her own. And she responded ever so
lightly back.
The first kiss was chaste, innocent... The second, was not.
He pulled back, and she pressed her lips back up against his, and
they both demanded to deepen the kiss, and they both complied. This one
lasted longer, and he lowered her back to the couch, moving over the top of
her.
That was when the warning signals flew off in his head. He pulled back
quickly, and looked down at her, his posture all that of a deer caught in
headlights.
"Scully? Oh... Jesus... I-I-I.... I can't... I'm... I..." he could do
nothing but stutter, which was more than she could manage at the time. He
flew up off the couch, standing straight upright. "We just... Jesus,
um.... I-I need to... go..." He ran to the door, throwing on a light
jacket.
She was finally able to speak as he was opening the door. "Mulder?" was
all she could manage.
"Look, Da- Scully, I'm sorry, but I can't do this, not to me, and
especially not to you. It's not fair, I can't love you the way I want to,
I can't... I can't do anything. I can't live," his voice, which had been
rising was now soft, scared, "I-I can't live." He ran out the door.

The next week he called in sick, and then, when he did come back, he put
so much distance between them that she didn't know how to break through.
The wall this time was greater than ever, and the partnership was worse
than the worst it had ever been. There was no more physical contact, no
more hands at the back to guide, no more subtle and comforting arm touches.
He didn't call her Dana and she didn't call him Fox. Their solve rate
dropped below eighty, then below seventy.
Somewhere in the FBI Building, a dark man took a long drag off his
cigarrette. He had to admit, it had taken longer than expected, but Fox
Mulder was beyond all help now. It was only a matter of time. He smiled
and took another long drag, finishing off the cigarrette.

Sunday, June 21, 1998

Mulder hadn't come into the office for the last week, and hadn't contacted
her, either. Dana was worried. For all she knew, he was lying dead in a
gutter. She needed someone to talk to, and so she called Mike, the doctor,
and he agreed to have lunch with her that day.

"Hi Mike," she said, sitting down in the small diner they had chosen.
"Hello, Dana," he smiled. "So, to what do I owe this pleasure?"
"I just wanted a friend to talk to, to be with," she admitted.
"Oh, what's up?"
"Well, it's just that I haven't seen or heard from Mulder for a week, and
I have to say, I'm getting worried."
At this, Mike practically choked on his drink.
"Mike?"
"Dana, he didn't tell you?" he asked, the surprise evident in his voice.
"Tell me what?"
"Mulder admitted himself to the hospital a week ago. He said that he
didn't think he could handle the stress of the job and his life anymore,
and thought he would be better off."
"Mike, can you give me his room number?"
"203."
"Thanks, I'm sorry I'm cutting this short."
"No prob, Dana, just be careful, I don't want you wheeled in on a
gurney because you did something stupid on the road after driving off
in a mad rush."
She smiled a little, "Don't worry Mike, I'm not going to kill
myself." The thought running through her mind was, I'm already dying.

He heard the knock on the door of his private room and didn't acknowledge
it. If it was a nurse, she would come in, if it was Skinner, he would
come in. So, when the door opened, Fox Mulder just continued to stare out
the window out of his lifeless eyes.
Scully entered his room, and stood there, appraising him. He had lost a
lot more weight, and looked extremely sick. He couldn't weigh more than
145 now, and for his height, that was almost dead. When he didn't even
acknowledge her presence, she muttered quietly, with barely contained
anger, "Why didn't you tell me?"
Mulder's head whipped around to confront her. "Oh Jesus," he broke her
gaze, ashamed. "Scully, I couldn't, because I knew you wouldn't let me. I
don't want you to watch me die."
"So that's it?" she shut the door. "You're just giving up?"
"There is nothing left to give up, I was already marked for death."
"Dammit Mulder, so I was I! I have been gentle with you, understanding,
caring, loving, and all the while, you just slipped further and further out
of grasp, and now, you've given up completely. Well, dammit Mulder, I
can't accept that!"
"You'll have to Dana, I'm a dead man, it's just a matter of time."
"Jesus Mulder you can fight this thing, you can live!"
He looked up at her, coldly, "Yeah, and who the hell would want me too? I
doubt anyone would notice if I even died except for the orderlies!"
"How can you say that!" Her tone got quieter. "Can't you see that if you
die, half of me dies too? Can't you see that?"
His normally beautiful hazel eyes, always filled with life, stared back at
her, still a lifeless grey.
Dana closed her eyes. <Dammit, if he's not going to give in to gental
coaxing, I guess I'll just have to scare the hell out of him.>
She reached around her back and pulled out her 6 millimeter.
"Dana, what are you doing?"
"Fox, you don't seem to be understanding that if you die, so do I, so I
guess I'll just end my suffering right here and now, at least the mess will
be easy to clean up." She raised her gun to her head, putting the barrel
into her mouth.
Finally, Fox's eyes turned color, the fear evident. "Dana, no! Don't do
this Dana! I can't live without you!"
"Mulder," she said around the barrel of the gun, still in her mouth,
"you've already decided to die, so why do you need to live? I can't live
without you either, and I sure as hell don't want to go after you, so fuck
this life. See ya in the after life Agent Mulder." She shoved the barrel
a little deeper, her finger visably tightening.
"Dana! You can't kill yourself for me! Please!"
She glanced at him, and tightened her finger further on the gun, she
wanted to make sure this was very slow.
Mulder rolled off the bed onto his knees, pleading. "You can't die! I
won't go if it means taking you with me! Please, Dana, I'm going to live,"
he said the last part softer.
She looked down at him. "What was that?" her words slightly distorted
from the gun.
This time, he said it with conviction, and his eyes held honesty that had
not been there before. Dana knew he wasn't lying. She removed her gun,
and set it down by the table on his bed, enveloping him in a hard hug.
"Thank you, Fox. You have to live, you hear me? You've got a promise to
keep now."
His eyes, which had been streaming out tears when she had almost killed
herself, found renewed tears in his last realization. <I love Dana
Katherine Scully.> He hugged her back full force. How could he have not
noticed it. The time he was taking care of her, and then she him, he was
falling in love with her.
At the same time, her own thoughts were pretty much telling her the same
thing. Only, in her thoughts was also the constant, <He's going to live.>
She knew he would now. He had said it, had <promised> her he would.
He raised to his feet and she stood up with him. "I'll be right back,
Mulder, I'm thirsty, and I'm still tasting gun oil." They both smiled, and
she walked out to get her beverage, probably coffee. He walked over to the
table at his bedside, and on impulse, pulled the clip out of her gun, only
then noticing that the clip was empty. She had known all along he wouldn't
let her shoot herself.
Mulder smiled, then grinned, then laughed. He was in love, and he was
going to live.

Friday, September 25, 1998

In the weeks since the episode at the hospital, Mulder's immune system had
miracuosly recovered fully, and all of his symtoms of having AIDS had
gradually disappered. He had once again "moved in" to Dana's apartment,
and things were pretty much back to the way they had been before his
encounter with AIDS. He was no longer just Agent Mulder, barely earning
the title, but he was Fox Mulder, living up to both names. Their
partnership had been repaired, and their solve rate was back in the
nineties.
Earlier that week, Skinner had called them into his office, wanting to
know what was going on, and Mulder had simply grasped Dana's hand,
then looked Skinner straight in the eye and said "I'm going to live,
sir, I had better start acting like it." Then both agents had gotten
up and sauntered out of his office without being dismissed. Skinner
had looked at his closed door in disbelief. This couldn't be the same
Mulder that had told him he was going to take an indefinite leave of
absence while receiving treatments at the hospital.
The Cancerman was also stunned. It wasn't supposed to happen like this,
they weren't suppossed to fight and come out all the better for it. His
superiors were going to kill him; this had been his last chance. Later
that day, he had been found, dead, in his office. The autopsy proved that
he had died of an accelerated heart rate, most likely, a heart attack had
ensued.
As for Mulder and Scully's personal relationship, it was the deepest and
fullest it had ever been. And while there had been no repeats of the kiss,
they acted like they were dating, or married. They didn't care who saw
them acting like best friends, or even if anyone who saw them assumed they
were in a relationship, because in a way, they were. They were still
professional, and as tough as ever; Mulder as crazy as before, and Scully
still the strong skeptic. But now, they would walk into the FBI Building,
Mulder's arm causually slung over her shoulders, or them holding hands,
talking and joking about various things, more than likely, their latest
case.
The thing was, no one was genuenly surprised. Everyone took it as a
normal occurance, certainly more normal than any X-file.
Today, Mulder walked into the hospital, firmly holding Scully's hand, to
get the results of his latest bloodwork. Mike stepped up to them when they
got to the lab counter.
"Mulder, Dana, come with me, I did the bloodwork, and would like to talk
to both of you in my private office," he was smiling, and looking quite...
thrilled, or maybe astonished.
Fox and Dana looked curiously at each other, and followed him into his
office.
"Please, sit down." They did as told, and he proceded. "Now, there have
been a few documented cases in which some retroviruses have completely
disappeared out of the body. Most doctors will even call these
instances miracles. The individuals that these occurances-"
"Mike," Dana said, "please get to the point. I hate to be blunt, but
Mulder and I do have to go to work."
"Ah, yes, I'm sorry, anyway, we did multiple tests on Mulder and as you
know, we asked him back for more blood samples. I'm sure this worried you
both, but the thing is, we got more samples so we could be sure the tests
were true, and it turns out, they were. Agent Mulder, you no longer have
any trace of the HIV or AIDS virus left in your system."
Both agents stared at him, exasperated.
Mulder said, "You-you can't be serious. I-I mean, this just... It doesn't
happen, Doctor."
Mike laughed fully. "Oh, I can assure you, it does, and it is... to you."
Dana, taking on the role of the scientist, asked him, "Will there be a
reoccurance of the virus?"
Mike shook his head, "It's never happened in documented history. Mulder,
I can assure you, there is no more danger of you passing the virus on,
because you don't have it any more. Still practice safe sex," he said
jokingly, "but... you don't have HIV <or> AIDS. Not anymore."
Mulder laughed, breaking out in a grin, and turned to Dana. She was
laughing to, and they hugged each other strongly. Mike smiled, and walked
out of the office unnoticed.
"I'm gonna live!" he cried, tears streaming down his face.
She was crying too. "Yeah, Fox. <We're> going to live."
"Yes, we are!" He proceded to break the contact, and then fell to his
knees as he had in what seemed so long ago in that hospital room and
brandished a box. "Dana Katherine Scully, marry me."
____________________________________________________________________________

Epilogue

Fox William Mulder and Dana Katherine Scully were united in holy matrimony
two months later. The wedding was traditional, although not huge. The
entire Scully family and what was left of the Mulder family attened,
including most of the D.C. branch of the Buearu. Walter Skinner walked
Dana down the aisle.
The vows they said were anything but traditional, however, as rarely is in
the X-files universe. They pledged their vows as follows:
Fox:
You stood by me when everyone else let me down. You were my truth, my
light, and my love. I can't remember my life without you in it, and I
don't think that now, I could if I had to. I feel as if we are two
souls,intwined, and just now finally finding each other. We've walked
through shadows, hurt, pain, and now, we unite ourselves through love.
Dana, I will live.
Dana:
You were my shoulder to cry on, even when I insisted that I didn't need
you. I am now only beginning to realize that I've always needed you, from
the day I was born. You are my other half. You were my strength, but I
found that you had also become my weakness as well. I relied on your
passions and your beleifs, and then I finally realized, we were each
other's own passion, our light. Fox, I will live.
The next words were spoken by both of them, "We will live."
When they finally kissed at the end of the ceremony, they were given a
standing ovation, and the applause drowned out everything. Everything
except the love.

It is now 2003, and Dana and Fox have been married over four years. The
search for Samantha and the ever elusive truth still continues, and Dana
and Fox have not had children of their own, although they are seriously
considering it.

The truth <is> out there, and now, it is closer than ever to being found.

End.
____________________________________________________________________________

Note: AIDS is a very serious virus, and is extremely hard for the victims
of it to cope with. I've seen friends taken down by this retrovirus, and
America and the World are now only beginning to gain ground on this virus
that seems to be taking down people quickly one by one.
AIDS is not just found in gay people, or transmitted by sexual intercourse,
as many seem to believe.
Yes, AIDS is transmitted through any kind of intercourse and sometimes even
oral sex, it is also transmitted through an AIDS infected blood
transfusion, or something such as a contaminated hypodermic needle, but it
isn't transmitted through regular physical contact, or the air we breath.
If a friend has AIDS, don't be afraid to give them a possibly needed hug,
or hand hold, it won't kill you.
Also, the facts used in this story have been taken from various research
journals such as JAMA (Journal of the American Medical Association). The
treatments and information described is based on early and late 1996
information as I did not have more current reseach information available.
Thank you.

By,
White Wolf.

"And if I have built this fortress around your heart
Encircled you in trenches and barbed wire
Then let me build a bridge
For I cannot fill the chasm." -
From Fortress Around Your Heart,
By Sting from the album-
The Dream of The Blue Turtles