Sent: Tuesday, August 04, 1998

Swan Song
by Rebecca Rusnak

DISCLAIMER: The characters in this story do not belong to me.

SUMMARY: How many times can one man's world end?

KEYWORDS: Alternate Universe. Character death.

RATING: SRA

SPOILERS: A minor one for Fight the Future.

THANKS: To Elspeth, for everything.

You can reach me at rrusnak@avana.net

****

I lost most of my sanity the day the earth was destroyed. I lost the rest
of it today.

Through the haze that shrouds my mind, only three things remain.

Scully is dead.

and

They are coming.

and

I will kill them.

****

It happened in quick succession, although, at the time, it seemed to last
forever. Each moment was imprinted on my brain with grave solemnity before
giving way to the next moment and the next.

"The cancer is back."

"Your mother is dead."

"They're here."

"You cannot stop us, Agent Mulder."

And I had my truth, then. I had it all right. I had it in blood, staining
her pale flesh. I had it in a mother's last letter to her son, outlining
her duplicity. I had it in the sight of the alien ships, destroying our
cities. I had it in cigarette smoke, blown in my face by an old man.

****

Like so many others, we fled. The aliens were not colonists anymore; they
were destroyers. Our resistance, our paltry struggles against them had only
angered them. As retribution, they laid waste to our world.

Already thin and pale, Scully came with me every step of the way. Forced
underground, we lost friends and family, enemies and foes. Thrown together
against a common enemy, mankind turned on itself, accelerating the job the
aliens had begun.

And those old men who had bargained for our surrender, and instead brought
about our destruction, they remained inviolate, above it all. Hidden from
those who would kill them, both human and alien alike.

Finding them became my quest.

****

It has been a year since I have looked on the sun. One year since I smelled
rain, heard the rumble of thunder, felt a cool breeze.

I did not mourn the loss of these things. In Scully, I had them all. In
her copper hair, the sun shone. In her tears, the rain fell. In her voice,
the heavens spoke. In her breath, the wind blew.

She was all those things. And she was mine.

But she was dying, and although we both knew it, we never admitted it. In
tacit silence, we refused to acknowledge the inevitable.

We turned our backs on what we could not change, and looked instead to the
future, to the death of those who had enabled the death throes of our earth.

****

We reached the bunker early this morning. Gaunt and exhausted, she lay atop
my back as I crawled through tunnels of rock and grit. Her weight was
nothing; she did not slow me down. Her voice was a thin whisper in my ear,
urging me on. Her sightless eyes were closed.

The place was well guarded, but I was fearless. I killed them all, and when
it was over, reeking with blood not my own, I went to her.

"We can go in," I said.

"They were waiting for you," she whispered.

I shook my head. "No."

"They were told not to kill you," she said.

I reflected on this. Possibly she was right, or why would I still be alive?

"It doesn't matter. Let's go," I finally said.

****

Inside, we rested. She lay in my arms, her chest barely rising with each
breath. I held her close, trying to impart some of my own strength to her,
willing her to stay with me a little longer.

"Mulder." Her voice was so weak I had to strain to hear it.

"You can't let them..." She gasped for breath.

"Don't talk," I said. "Save your strength."

A faint smile crossed her lips. "I loved you," she breathed.

She died then.

****

They're coming now. I can hear their footsteps echoing down the hall. They
murmur amongst themselves, full of consternation.

The explosives are set, the wires connected, all except for that final,
fatal connection. I laid them down precisely, carefully. Afterward, I
crept back to her still-warm body, wrapped the wires around my hands and
gathered her into my arms again.

The door opens and they walk in. The smoker is in front, and he sees me
first. His eyes widen as he sees me, Scully, and the wires. "What is this?"

The others crowd around him, pushing into the room. They crane their necks
to see me, and obligingly, I grin madly for them. "Hello, boys."

"Mr. Mulder," Strughold says. "We wondered if you would come."

My grin widens. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

I hold up my hands, show them the wires wrapped around my palms. Without my
support, Scully's head falls back and her face stares at me, appealing,
accusing.

I reach down with one wire-clad hand and brush a stand of lusterless hair
from her cheek. "I loved you, too," I whisper.

They are walking forward, toward me, and I look up. "Say goodnight," I cry,
laughing, sobbing.

I clap my hands together.

****

END

AUTHOR'S NOTES: What can I say? Ever since I heard that phrase, "The Date
is set", I've been fascinated by it. When? What does it mean? What happens
*after*??

Thank God for the alternate universe. <g>

Comments eagerly awaited at: rrusnak@avana.net

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

"I have traveled the paths of desire
Gathering flowers and carrying fire."
--October Project, "Paths of Desire"