Letting Go 
by dtg 

	Georgetown University Medical Center
      Friday, 4:40 p.m.
      For six days, his universe had existed within a ten foot radius of the 
      machine. Tethering wires allowed him to reach the bathroom, but not the 
      shower; the window, but not the wand that opened the blinds; the chair, 
      but not the door. Television was forbidden out of concern that the 
      flickering images might provoke a seizure. The telephone was removed so he 
      could rest. 
      Except that resting was the last thing on earth he wanted to do. 
      The images that he'd risked his life to retrieve had disappeared along 
      with the seizures. It was the cruelest of ironies: keep the seizures and 
      the memories, lose the job that provided his only chance of interpreting 
      them. As with so many other 'choices' in his life, there was really no 
      choice at all. 
      The wires had been removed an hour ago, just after the doctor told him he 
      was being released. He would be free to go as soon as the paperwork was 
      completed. 
      Mulder leaned back against the stack of pillows and closed his eyes. It 
      was funny, really. For six days, all he'd wanted was to get the hell out 
      of here. Now that he could, he realized there was nowhere left to go. 
      ~~~~
      Holy Cross Memorial Hospital
      Oncology Department
      4:50 p.m.
      She read the answer in his eyes while he struggled to find the words. No 
      matter how often he delivered news like this, it could never be easy. 
      Suddenly, she felt an overwhelming need to spare him the pain this one 
      time. "It's spreading." 
      Dr. Hollis Mallory relaxed visibly. "I'm sorry, Dana. The last round of 
      tests leaves no doubt. Your tumor has metastasized to your blood." 
      She tuned him out at that point. There was really nothing more he could 
      say, though she knew he was trying. She heard his words on the periphery 
      of her consciousness, like a radio station filtering through the walls 
      from a neighbor's apartment. So much still to do. So many possibilities 
      now forever closed. 
      "Dana? Do you want me to call someone for you?" Mallory's kind, sad eyes 
      were fixed on hers, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder. 
      "No." Her throat tightened at the sympathy in his voice, and she paused 
      for control before she could continue. "How long?" 
      His hand squeezed her shoulder. "You know that's not a question I can 
      answer with any degree of certainty. There are--" 
      She cut him off. There was no time left for platitudes. "An educated guess 
      is all I'm asking. I have to know." There was so much still left to do. 
      She had to prepare her family. And Mulder. 
      He held her gaze. "You'll need to check into the hospital as soon as 
      possible so we can begin the experimental treatment we've discussed. If 
      the tumor doesn't respond, we're looking at anywhere from a few weeks to a 
      few months. Six at the outside." 
      There was nothing more to say. She thanked him for his frankness and 
      walked slowly to her car. There was an odd sense of relief somehow, in 
      finally knowing that it was only a matter of time. And not very much time, 
      at that. So many things left undone that would now remain that way. 
      ~~~~
      GUMC
      6:25 p.m.
      His back was to the door, his attention focused on something beyond the 
      rain-streaked window. He turned his head slightly at the sound of her 
      footsteps. "I was beginning to think you weren't coming." 
      He'd called her cell phone just as she was leaving the doctor's office and 
      she'd let it go to voice mail, not willing to trust her own voice at that 
      point. She'd driven around aimlessly for an hour, then decided to just 
      come rather than call him back. 
      "I'm sorry, Mulder. I was in the middle of something when you called. Are 
      you ready to go?" 
      Something in her voice must have registered, and he turned to face her. 
      "Is everything okay? I could have taken a cab." 
      She avoided his eyes. "I'll tell you about it later. Are you all set with 
      the paperwork?" She walked to the bed and reached for his duffel. He took 
      one quick step to his left and beat her to it. 
      Their hands collided over the handle. Mulder's fingers closed over hers 
      for a moment and their eyes met. He seemed about to say something, and 
      Scully withdrew her hand, moving quickly for the door. "I'll tell the 
      nurse we're ready to go." 
      The rain had become a torrent by the time Scully pulled up in front of his 
      building. "I've got an umbrella in the trunk." It was the first time 
      either of them had spoken since they'd gotten into the car. 
      "I won't melt." His hand was on the door handle. 
      "Mulder, wait. I need to talk to you. Can I come in?" 
      He turned and looked at her for a moment. "I can't say much for your 
      timing. You could have had my undivided attention any time over the past 
      four days. And it was a lot drier." His voice was neutral, but he couldn't 
      hide the hurt in his eyes. 
      "That's part of what I want to talk about." She pulled the key from the 
      ignition and turned back to meet his searching gaze. 
      Something flickered there. Finally, he shrugged. "Suit yourself." He 
      jerked the door open and ducked out into the downpour. Scully followed, 
      making no attempt to keep up with his long strides. He was already inside, 
      holding the elevator for her when she entered the lobby, drenched to the 
      skin. 
      She dripped all the way to his apartment door. When they were inside, he 
      dropped his duffel on the floor and kicked off his shoes. "I'll get you a 
      towel." He disappeared around the corner. When he returned a moment later, 
      she was shaking from the cold. His sulky expression melted instantly into 
      concern. 
      "Scully, you're going to get sick." He wrapped the towel around her 
      shoulders and led her into the bedroom. Her protest was cut short by a 
      series of sneezes. "I'll get you something to change into. Get out of 
      those clothes." He gave her a gentle shove toward the bathroom and began 
      rooting through drawers. 
      She stripped the sopping garments from her chilled body and hung them on 
      his shower rod. She hadn't said a word since they left the car simply 
      because she couldn't. The words she needed to say to him, and the 
      knowledge that they would irrevocably affect the time they had left, had 
      tightened her throat to the point of pain. 
      "Scully? I think these will work." He opened the door wide enough to pass 
      a pair of sweats and his huge black sweatshirt. When she took the bundle 
      from him, a pair of thick, white socks fell at her feet. 
      "Thanks. I'll be out in a minute." The door closed softly and she listened 
      for a moment to the sounds of him changing clothes. Drawers opened and 
      closed. Fabric rustled. Then he walked out of the room and closed the door 
      behind him. 
      Scully snuggled her icy feet into socks that came nearly to her knees and 
      pulled the sweatpants up to her armpits. The sweatshirt was clean, but he 
      must have worn it recently. When she brought the material over her head, 
      his scent wafted around her, evoking a sense of loss that was almost 
      painful. She swiped impatiently at the self-pitying tears and took a deep 
      breath before she opened the door. 
      The living room was empty. She followed the sound of running water into 
      the kitchen where she found him standing at the sink, rinsing out his 
      battered tea kettle. He glanced at her over his shoulder. "I turned the 
      heat up a little. I thought you could use some hot tea." He raised the 
      now-filled kettle in her direction before placing it on the stove. 
      "Mulder, what did you do with your wet clothes?" He was wearing dry jeans 
      and a white tee shirt. His feet were bare. 
      "Tossed them in the hamper." He kept his attention focused on the tea 
      preparations. 
      So many words crackling in the air between them, always just beneath the 
      surface. Just out of reach. 
      "Raspberry or lemon zinger?" He was holding up two boxes, a smile lifting 
      the corners of is mouth but leaving no trace of itself in his eyes. 
      "Lemon, I guess. Do you have any honey?" 
      He reached into the cabinet over the sink and produced the little 
      bear-shaped plastic bottle. "Go wrap up in the afghan. I'll be out in a 
      minute." The teakettle began to whistle shrilly. 
      A few minutes later, he came walking out to her with a steaming mug in 
      each hand. She was curled in the far corner of the couch, her knees pulled 
      up nearly to her chest. Mulder handed her a mug, then sat in the opposite 
      corner, one leg tucked beneath him. 
      The storm outside continued unabated, the heavy north wind driving rain 
      against the windows in sheets that rattled the glass. For many minutes, it 
      was the only sound in the room. Scully finally set her mug down on the 
      coffee table and cleared her throat. Mulder looked at her for the first 
      time since they'd sat down. She began with a question she'd asked him 
      nearly a week ago that he had yet to answer. 
      "Why would you undergo something so crazy and dangerous?" 
      The question seemed to catch him off guard, as if he'd been expecting an 
      entirely different topic. "You know the answer to that." 
      "I know that finding your sister means everything to you, Mulder, but I 
      had no clue that it was worth your life." 
      "I didn't intend to die." Each word enunciated in that wearily patient 
      voice that made her want to slap him. 
      Instead, she closed her eyes and breathed. The scent of rain mixed with 
      dust. 'From dust we are created, and to dust shall we return'. She felt an 
      irrational desire to laugh. 
      "Is that what you wanted to talk about?" He was looking at her with a 
      mixture of impatience and relief. 
      The desire to slap him returned, and it put an edge in her voice. "No, 
      Mulder. What I wanted to tell you is that my last check up showed some 
      changes that required re-testing. That's where I've been for the past few 
      days, and why I was late picking you up." 
      Mulder's entire demeanor changed in the time it took her to utter those 
      words, and the alteration was more telling than anything he could have 
      said. Suddenly, she questioned her decision to tell him anything at all, 
      but it was too late now. 
      He swallowed thickly, then raised his mug and drained it. "What did they 
      say?" It was almost a whisper, strained and painful to hear. 
      Scully drew a calming breath and forced herself to meet his frightened 
      gaze. "The cancer has spread to my blood. And the tumor is growing. In all 
      probability, I have less than six months left." Saying it out loud for the 
      first time made it real, and she was dismayed to feel the tears flood her 
      eyes. "Excuse me." She started to get up from the couch, intent on making 
      it to the bathroom before she lost all control, but Mulder's hand on her 
      wrist halted her. 
      "Scully..." 
      She could hear the tears in his voice. There was no way she could look at 
      him now, but she did settle back onto the couch. Running would never be an 
      option with this man. She turned the wrist he was holding so that their 
      hands came together. His fingers twined with hers immediately, almost 
      painfully tight. 
      "There are other doctors... alternative treatments that--" His voice broke 
      and she heard him hiccup, then hold his breath, trying desperately not to 
      cry. 
      "There is one more treatment the doctor wants to try. It's experimental 
      and dangerous. I'm considering not going through with it." She hadn't 
      realized until this moment that this was even on her mind, but now the 
      possibility that it was truly all over was like a weight lifted from her 
      heart. She looked over at him finally. He was staring at their joined 
      hands. 
      "You can't give up." A tear-choked plea from a broken heart. 
      She tugged gently on his hand and he looked up at her. The pain in his 
      eyes nearly undid her. "Mulder, I would never leave you if I had any 
      choice. You have to know that." 
      He nodded, the movement dislodging a tear that streaked quickly down to 
      the corner of his mouth. She reached over and touched it with her thumb, 
      then smoothed it softly over his lips. He closed his eyes at her touch, 
      and more tears escaped from beneath his clenched lids. A wave of love for 
      this man swelled her heart. She cupped his chin and he opened his eyes. 
      She spoke very softly, struggling for the words to make him understand. 
      "You're so strong, Mulder. And you're the bravest man I've ever known." He 
      tried to turn away from her, but she pulled him back. "I wouldn't trade 
      one moment of the time I've had with you. Not for anything. Not if it 
      meant that I'd live another hundred years. I need you to believe that." 
      He tried to speak, shook his head and tried again. "I would trade 
      everything if it would save you." His eyes blazed with emotion. 
      "Everything and anything, Scully. Do you understand?" He placed his hands 
      on either side of her face, his thumbs rubbing softly over her cheekbones, 
      damp now with tears. "I won't give you up." 
      He brushed his lips against her forehead, then pulled her into a fiercely 
      gentle embrace. She leaned into it, letting his warmth surround her. The 
      scent of rain lingered on his skin, and she breathed it in, allowing 
      herself to accept the comfort he offered, the hope he promised. And it was 
      almost enough. 
      Between the rain beating against the windows and the emotional minefield 
      they'd just navigated, Scully couldn't keep her eyes open. She yawned 
      hugely against his chest. 
      "Sleepy?" His voice rumbled under her ear. Mingled with the soft thud of 
      his heart, it was hypnotic. 
      "Mmmmm" It was a muffled hum mumbled into his chest, but she knew he would 
      understand. 
      His arms shifted, turning her toward him, and he stood, lifting her like a 
      child. 
      "Mulder?" She raised her head and looked up at him. His gentle smile 
      beneath eyes still wet with tears silenced her. 
      "It's okay, you need the bed more than I do." He elbowed the bedroom door 
      and crossed to the bed, lowering her gently to the mattress. "Raise up a 
      little." He pulled the comforter out from under her and covered her so 
      gently that she felt her eyes tearing up again and turned her face to the 
      pillow so he wouldn't see. The sweet scent of him flooded her senses, and 
      that undid the last of her control. 
      He was halfway to the door when she called his name, a soft utterance that 
      stopped him in his tracks. He came back and sat next to her on the bed. 
      "What is it?" 
      So gentle, so filled with love. She had never needed to touch him more in 
      her life. "Mulder, would you stay with me for a little while?" 
      He didn't hesitate. "Scoot over." She did, rolling onto her right side at 
      the same time. Mulder lifted the comforter and spooned up behind her, 
      fitting his body to hers from head to toes. It was the most incredible 
      sensation she had ever experienced. 
      "Go to sleep." The way his voice rumbled in his chest wasn't lost in this 
      position. It hummed along her spine, sending pleasant shivers in every 
      direction. 
      "I don't want this moment to end." The words were out of her mouth before 
      she could censor herself. He was silent for so long that she began to 
      wonder if he'd heard. 
      Then he curled his left arm around her and took her hand, folding their 
      fingers together and pulling her against his chest. His soft whisper, 
      directly against her ear, warmed her from the inside out. 
      "Just say the word." 
      As always, the words were so little of the message. His body wrapped 
      around hers said the rest. 
      ~~~~~~
      END