Disclaimer: Dana Scully, Fox Mulder, Walter Skinner, and Cancer Man belong to CC, FOX Broadcasting, and 1013 Productions. No infringement intended. Summary: Scully ponders life without Mulder and with a cure for her cancer. Rating:PG Classifacation: SAR, MSR Spoilers: To be safe, I'll go with all of season 4, up to and including Gethsemane. It's a Cancer story so.... Author's Note:This story is deticated to all the people over at XF-Romantics. You guys can really cheer a girl up when she's in one of those dark, moody, hey-I'm-a-author-go-with-it, type moods. You guy's are great. Comments, flames, ect., should be sent to me at: Dreamer...@aol.com Okay, let's roll... ***************************************** The Prospects of Life and Death By: Nicole Eriksen (Dreamer...@aol.com) Aug. 5th, 1997 ***************************************** I stand by the window in my bedroom. The rain tracking lines accross the window as the tears track lines down my face. I am alone now. I have no one else to trust. Mulder is gone. His life taken by his own hand in a moment of sarrow and pain. I watched as the coronar placed his body in the stark white bags I have opened for my career, I watched as his body was placed in the back of the van. Taken to the funeral home for burial. There will be no autopsy. The police had ruled his death long before I had ever arrived. The gun residue on his hands and what was left of his face was proof enough. Now is the first time I have cried for him. After taking my anger out on the men that pushed Mulder to his death. They looked at me as if I was giving them some reward. Telling them that I had never believed Mulder's idea's. In truth, I had believed them more than I believed myself. He was a cracked genius, my Mulder. Hampered only by his belief of that which was unproven. In a way, I believe he died for me. His belief of the Constitorium's willingness to give me a cure for the end of our search is what I believe killed Mulder. I move from the window and walk to my bed, lying down and grabbing a pillow from the other side, clutching it to me. Trying to find peace in my Hell. X--X--X I wake with the familiar stickyness beneath my nose. Touching my finger to my upper lip, I find the blood I knew would be there. I step out of the bed and walk into the bathroom, washing the dried blood from my face. I look into the mirror and I don't even reconnize my own face. My skin is pale and translucent. The dark circles under my eyes refuse to go away, even with the heavy make-up I apply. I've lost weight I couldn't afford to, I barely weigh 95 pounds now. My ribs, instead of conturing down to my waist, now stick out and make me appear un preportioned. I look like death. This is what Mulder saw when he saw me. Not the FBI Agent that could haul his ass out of any situation, but the sick, dying woman that that was his best friend. The woman he couldn't save. I let the tears roll down my cheeks again, cleasing my soul of the hate rising towards him. He had left me alone when he knew damn well that I could never trust anyone else with my life. Damn him! I pick up the thing nearest to me and throw it at the mirror. The brush hit the mirror with enough force to break it, showing now a hundred of my face. I fall back to the wall, sliding down to the floor with my legs pulled up to my chest, sobbing into my arms. It takes me a few moments before I notice the knocking on my front door. I wipe my face and head towards the door. "Who is it?" I ask. "Telegram Miss." A teenagerish voice answers from the other side. I open the door and the young man hands me a envelope with my name printed on the front. "Sign here, please." The young man hands me a electronic clipboard. I sign and give a soft 'Thanks' before closing the door. The sender is listed as withheld and that maked me suspicious. I open the telegram and read. "Meet me at the reflecting pool tonight at 7:00 PM. Come alone." I glance at the wall clock and find that it's 11:30 in the morning. Skinner must have assumed that I wasn't coming in today because there is no message from him on my machine. There's one from my Mother, asking if I'm okay, one from Frohicke, telling me what a good man Fox Mulder was and to call if I needed anything. Yeah, I need my partner back so I can slap the shit out of him for leaving me. I go back to my room and pull on some sweat pants and a t-shirt. As I leave the apartment I wonder why Mulder and I never talked as best friends. Sitting, watching T.V. and talking about people that had pissed us off during the day, movies we should go see, and video rentals we needed for the night. We have strange jobs but our friendship was differnt. Closer. Yet, why were we so distant? I have to get out of here. I close and lock my door before going outside and starting a well needed run. X--X--X By the time I return it's nearly one. I shower and change into loose jeans and a short, long sleeved sweater. After waking from my bedroom to the living room, going thru the channels once, then getting up and pacing from the kitchen to the bedroom and back I realized that I was restless. I need to calm down. I don't even know who I'm meeting. It could be some wacko killer waiting there to kill me. Somehow, without Mulder here with me, that doesn't seem that bad. I lay on the couch and as I drift to sleep, I hope that the place where Mulder's soul resides is better than the world I live in. X--X--X When I wake it's nearly 6 o'clock. I grab my coat and the Smith & Wesson sitting on my nightstand and place it at the small of my back. I grab the keys and head out to the car. As I drive to the reflecting pool, I recall the times that Mulder and I met here while the X-Files were closed. We were forced to hide our continuance to find the truth. Even our friendship had to be hidden. It brought us closer until I was taken. That had been the starting point of Mulder's destruction. He blamed himself for everything that happened to me, the abduction, my sister's death, my cancer. All of those events had chipped away at him until he took his own life. Took himself away from me....No! I hit my palms against the stearing wheel before moving off the freeway towards DC. The reflecting pool in view now. I had lost Mulder but I wouldn't lose myself. I couldn't. X--X--X I walked over to the rail protecting the pool. The Washington Monument stood tall and white in the distance opposite the Jefferson Memorial. I looked around but see only the normal amount of torists. High school age kids in a large group talked loudly until a teacher quieted them. A older couple walked hand in hand towards the Washington Monument. It was peaceful for this once. Peace was as uncommon in DC as violence was in the middle of a desert. I was absorbed in watching the people around me until a hand clamped on to my shoulder and another on my mouth. God, not again....... "Don't scream, Scully." What the hell? Mulder was dead. He is not standing behind me telling me not to scream. I felt his hand move away from my mouth and turn me around by my shoulders. Oh, it's him alright. Staring down at me and grinning. I did the only thing I ever wanted to do at that point. I pulled away from him and slapped with all the strength I had. I hope nobody is watching us. I hope he understands why I'm doing this. I pulled my hand to my chest and waited for his reaction. He raised his hand to his cheek where I could see the handprint I had left. He looked like a puppy someone had kicked. "Scully, I know--" "Don't even, Mulder" I was too mad. I felt too betrayed to accept an apoligy now. "You made me think you were dead! I had to ID your body, or who ever it was. You left me! You took away the only sence of trust I ever had with the X-Files! How the hell am I suppose to forgive you! How do I...." I had been beating my fists against his chest while he just stood there, taking it all in. I had gone from screaming to sobbing against his chest. He circled his arms around me. Holding me while I cried. This was my one weakness. I could always *get* mad at him. It was the *staying* mad at him that I failed at. "I'm so sorry, Scully. If there had been another way, I would have found it." "Another way? Where have you been?" I pulled back from him to look in his eyes, green now with sadness. An all too familiar color. "To get this." He said and released one of his arms from me to reach into his coat pocket, pulling out a vial with a clear yellow-green solution in it. "It's the cure. For the cancer. Can you get a sringe?" I was too complexed by the cure for my cancer, resting in the palm of my once....no, twice dead partner. I reached out and ran a finger down the vial. "The cure?" I asked. "Yes. Can you get a sringe?" He asked. "Yeah. I can get one from the lab at the Bureau." "Good. Let's go now then." He said and grabbed my hand to pull me to my car. I stopped. "What?" He asked, turning around. "Um, it might not be a good idea for anyone at the Bureau to see you. You *are* suppose to be dead." I didn't need to deal with some Agent like Colton tonight. "Yeah, good point. I'll stay in the car and stay low, 'k?" "Okay." I said and smiling, pulled him to my car. X--X--X As I drove to the Hoover building, we held hands, making up for the days of lost contact. I felt a new tension between us. We had always had the sexual tension....mountains of it, but by silent agreement, never acted on it. Now that tension was about 50 times larger. I pulled into the parking garage and turned off the car, then turned to Mulder. "Sure your going to be okay?" I asked. "Yeah, you know me. Never get in trouble." He said with a grin. "Mmm-hmm. Right." I said, smiling. I squezzed his hand and went to open the door when he pulled me back over to him. He lay a hand against my cheek and my heartbeat doubled. "I'm sorry I ever had to hurt you, Dana." He said. He leaned toward me, his hand still on my face, now moved to the back of my neck, pulling me towards him. I couldn't believe this. First, I slap him, and now he's going to kiss me. I remembered my thoughts before of the silent promise not to act on the sexual tension we had. Well, there goes that theory. Our lips touched, gental, soft. His lips were so soft. I felt his tounge run over my lower lip, then my upper lip, tracing them. Then he pulled away. "Go get the sringe, Dana." He whispered. "Yeah. Sringe." I whispered back, getting out of the car and going into the building. I moved through the empty building to the SciCrime lab. Finding the sringe, I turned to leave but stopped at the sound of voices coming down the hall. I glanced at the clock: 9:21 PM. No one would be here this late unless they had Special Agent status. I look around the lab until I decide to listen from inside one of the photo labs. I enter it and close the door until there is just enough space for me to see who it is that enters. I see a shadow moving down the hall, then a trail of smoke. The Cancer Man? I wonder if he had seen me. If he had been watching me get the sringe.... There was another shadow now, moving down the hall. I didn't reconize him until he caught the light for a second. Skinner. What the hell was he doing here? "You wanted to see me." Skinner asked. He sounded mad. The air around him seemed charged with his anger. "Yes. I'm....sorry about Agent Mulder's....unfortunate death. It really is a pity." The Cancer Man's very attitude was cool, relaxed. He could care less if someone died. I doubt even he is afraid of death. "He's gone. What more do you want?" The A.D.'s words were clipped and I was surprised he hadn't gone off on the old man yet. "To the contrary. Agent Mulder's death only helps me to reach some of my goals. I still have several I need fulfilled, and you will help me." He said, taking another drag from his cigarette. "We do have a deal, of course." "Of course. What do you want me to do?" He paused a moment before saying: "Destroy the cure for Agent Scully's cancer." Skinner's face contorted and he backed away from the Cancer Man. I'm surprised he didn't strike him. "You son of a bitch! You sick bastard! You said you would help her. Not destroy the only chance she has for a normal life." "I'm not destroying it. You are. Our deal entailed you doing what ever I asked of you. I'm asking you to destroy the cure." "Why? What is the point in that? What do you get out of it?" He was despreate now, pacing accross the lab. "I get the feeling of completion. I'll know that my work will be completed to the best of which I can complete it." Skinner had stoped pacing now. Probably realizing what I had known. The Cancer Man had cancer. Before Skinner could continue, the Cancer Man picked up again. "You *will* destroy it." "What if I don't?" "Then you can join me in my ride to work." The Cancer Man took another long drag from his cigarette and pressed a piece of paper into Skinner's hand. "The location. Destroy the cure and the deal is complete." I watched as the Cancer Man tossed the cigarette butt to the floor and walked out of the room. Skinner watched him until his shadow moved from the windows view. I saw him glance at the paper, then up, skyward. He tucked the paper into his breast pocket and left the room. I walked out of the photo lab and looked at the cigarette butt on the floor. The Cancer Man had never intended to save me. Skinner had made a deal to save me. I looked down at the sringe again and walked out of the lab. I would be cured. But only by ruining another mans life in the process. X--X--X Mulder and I drove to my apartment in silence. He had asked what took so long at the Bureau but I had just said that someone was using the lab and I didn't want to asnwer questions. It was true to a point. We arrived at my apartment and walked up the walkway to apartment #35. It's strange that while we've done this a hundred times before, this one is so different. Mulder holds the cure to my cancer in his palm. I hold the sringe in my pocket. It's fitting that we would have to work together to cure me. I walk into the apartment and Mulder closes the door behind him, moving to sit on the couch. "Give me the sringe." His tone tells me that the subject is not open for debate. I hand him the sringe and watch as he empty's the vial of it's liquid, then empty's the sringe of the air bubble. "Come here and sit down. And roll up your sleeve." I move to sit next to him and roll up my sleeve. I look at the needle as it enters the skin in my upper arm. The contents, emptyed into my body, destroying the cancer. The prospect of living is almost as scary as the prospect of dying. I watch as Mulder places the sringe on the coffee table and then looks up at me. I look into his eyes and find the same green color from the car. I reach my hand up and lay it against his cheek, then I lean forward to press my forehead against his. "I love you." I whisper. "I know. I love you, too." He whispers back. He pulls me back on to the couch with him so I'm lying on top of him. That's how we sleep. My head resting on his chest, his arm accross my hips. X--X--X I wake before the sunrises. I raise my head to watch the day start. I've thought about the prospects of life and death more. I think the prospect of life may be more frightening, but it's also more though provoking. X------The End------X If you made it here, thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. E-Mail me at: Dreamer...@aol.com If you wish to read any of my other FanFic, it's avalible at: http://members.aol.com/Dreamer893/index.html ********************************************* Fin--Tuesday, August 05, 1997--12:31:54 PM-- *********************************************