Title: Waiting

Author:  Xenith

Disclaimer: The X-files belong to Chris Carter
and 1013 Productions, not me. I'm only
borrowing the characters for now.  I'll put them
back when I'm done.

Rating: PG

Category: SA, Muldertorture, Scullytorture,

Spoilers: Thru 7th Season; Tiny one for Detour.

Archive: Sure, especially Spookys!

Feedback: Love it! Love it! E-mail me!!

E-Mail address: xenitha@yahoo.com,

Discussion List:  Yes!!! Yes!!!

Summary:  Scully is dying in Mulder's arms and
he can't stop it.
 
 

Griffin Labs
February 19, 2000
2 p.m.

"I think this place is a dead end? It looks
deserted."  Scully fumbled for the light switch
on the wall and was disappointed to hear it
'click' but remain dark.

"Well, the list of potential lab sites was pretty
long," Mulder pulled his flashlight from his
trenchcoat pocket and snapped it on.  The
flash revealed a large, dusty room with sinks
and tables.  "That's the only reason they
borrowed us to help check it out.  No
manpower and a holiday weekend."

"Gotta love those holidays," Scully bent over
and peered into an open cabinet door. She
fumbled with the respirator dangling from her
wrist.  "I still think we ought to be wearing these
while searching. This gas they're making is
pretty lethal.  It produces vivid hallucinations
followed by convulsions and then death within
hours.  This stuff is not pretty."
 
"C'mon, Scully, those things smell like the
backside of a pickup truck and always clog my
sinuses.  The first whiff of trouble we'll put 'em
on fast.  Besides, I'm inclined to agree with
you, this place looks pretty empty."

"Mulder, I think this is a waste of the holiday
weekend we should be enjoying, lousy weather
or no lousy weather.  What did you have
planned?"

"Me?  The guys are hosting a D & D night, I
thought I'd tag along.  And there's a...um...new
video I got that I haven't seen yet....  You?"

"I haven't scanned my latest copy of JAMA, I'm
out of clean clothes and I need to replace my
coffeemaker." She stopped and ran her
flashlight over Mulder, then grinned.  "I guess
this is more interesting than the alternative,
huh?"

"Sad.  Very very sad," Mulder commented
mournfully.  "Tell you what, why don't we get a
pizza and some clean videos and just be bored
together.  You can do your laundry at my place
and I'll loan you my coffeemaker.  I think I can
find it and get the cobwebs out."

"As always, Mulder, you have come up with the
ideal solution. Hey....what's that over there?"
She ran a light over a dim corner of the room,
illuminating a shiny canister half-hidden under a
countertop.  "Looks like they may have
forgotten something when they left."

Mulder strode forward then slipped on a piece
of paper on the dusty floor.  He landed on his
backside and skidded toward the canister,
knocking it over with his foot and they both
heard a hissing sound.

"Shit!" Mulder scrambled back and found Scully
struggling to put her respirator on. "No time!"
he gasped and pulled her back and out of the
room, slamming the air-tight door behind them.

They found themselves inside a completely
enclosed room, no windows or other doors.  No
cracks in the door either, thank goodness.
Mulder slipped the respirator on and saw that
Scully had done the same.  Thank goodness,
maybe they had escaped exposure.

Maybe.

"Scully?  Scully, you okay?"  She was looking
at him fixedly, her eyes unfocused.

"Muld....der?  You...look..so strange...."  No, he
decided, Scully was the one who looked
decidedly strange.  Her skin was turning bright
red in the glaring flashlit area and he could see
that she was starting to shake.

"Scully, did you breathe in the gas?  Damn.
Scully, sit down.  C'mon, sit down now and let
me take a look at you."

"No, Mulder, I'mokay...really...you sure...you..."
her voice faded away as he forced her to sit
down before she fell down.  She was looking
blearily around her and swaying as she stood.
The air in here should be all right to breathe, so
he began to take off her mask to take a closer
look at her.

She fought.  "No...Mulder...poison gas!  No,
don't take the mask off.  No!"  Mulder gave up
with a sigh.  No use in upsetting her if she was
already sick.  He began to remove his own
mask and found himself with an armful of
clawing fury.

"Nooooooo!  Noooo Mulderdon'ttakeoffthe
mask! Don't Doooon't!" Mulder fought her away
from his face but left the mask where it was.
She was muttering something wildly at him and
he could see that she was hallucinating.
Damn, Scully.  Got to get you to the hospital,
fast.

He pulled out his cell phone and dialled 911,
then listened for the dial tone.  Nothing.  He
looked more closely and saw that the casing
was cracked.  That's why his hip hurt so much.
He must've landed on it.  Scully had drunkenly
pulled out her cellphone and was trying to dial.
Good, Scully!  Good.

"N'good Mulder...can't call out.  Mus' be too
deep inna building...damn!"  Mulder took the
phone from her and tried himself.  She was
right. No good.  He looked at her more closely
and could see that she was clearly affected by
the gas.  Skin was redder than before, eyes
looked dilated.

"Scully, if we wear the respirators we can go
back through that room and get out of here, get
you to a doctor."

She shook her head drunkenly. "Nooo, too big
a risk....c'be absorbed through skin
contact...need to wait for gassssssto
dissipate...Skinner's expecting ussstocall him 'n
two hours. .....knows where we 'r....'ll know
there'ssssomething wrong..."

Her eyes closed and she leaned back against
him suddenly.  He caught her and eased them
both to the floor.  "Can you wait that long,
Scully?" he asked gently.

She nodded, her eyes still closed.  "Mooore
dangerous....to increase exposure....to affected
person...need to keeeeep expooosure
downnnn.  May....be....convulsions...though...."

Mulder looked grim. "I'll be ready.  Anything I
can do when they hit?"

She shook her head and opened her eyes,
focusing carefully at him. "No.  Just keep'm
warm, prevent injury.  Hallllllucinaaations frst,
though.  Bad......ver...bad."  She tugged at him
and pushed them both back until they were
seated against the wall in the glow of a single
flashlight, and waited for the inevitable.

Mulder sat quietly, watching Scully from under
his eyelashes.  Once he looked down and saw
her watching him.  She caught his eye and
smiled, then patted his hand, "'S gonna be
awright, Muller, s'okay...."

He just nodded helplessly and tried to smile
back.  Her speech was slurrier and harder to
understand, although he could hear her trying
to talk to him.  Finally, he pulled her close and
she snuggled up against his side, pulling his
head against her shoulder.

He didn't have long to wait.

He could hear her draw her breath in and stare
into space, a terrified expression on her face.
"Scully? What's wrong? What is it?"

"Don' you see 'm?  'S him. Pfaster.  Ohgod.
Donnie Pfaster....get 'm away frm me!
Mulder..."

She pulled away from the phantom and began
scrabbling against the wall, trying to escape.
Mulder grabbed her hands and pulled her to
face him.  "Scully, there's nothing there.
Donnie Pfaster is dead. You saw him die.  He
can't hurt you.  It's not real."

She just looked at him,  frozen with terror.
Then she fought back.  "No.  Get your
gun...Muld'r...he's here! He's here!"  She
reached behind him into his holster and
managed to grab his weapon.

"Scully, no!  There's nothing here!  You're
hallucinating, just give me the weapon.  It's
okay." Mulder tried to remain calm and put his
hand out, palm up, for the weapon.  Scully held
it out of his reach.

"No...need the gun...you can't have it..."  He
made a frantic grab for the weapon and it
skittered out of her hands and flew across the
room, landing with a bang against the far wall.

Mulder felt small relief.  He remembered what
Scully apparently didn't.  She was armed with
her own weapon and could turn it on him at any
time.

Quickly, before he could telegraph his
movements, he grabbed both her wrists and
threw her against the floor, then disarmed her
while she frantically tried to throw him off.  Her
weapon followed the other one into the corner.

He let her go abruptly and she slid away from
him, at arm's length and watched him, panting
with fear.

"Scully, it's not safe for you to have a gun right
now.  The hallucinations have started.
Please...trust me?"

She started to speak, then nodded.  "Can...can
I come sit with you?" she whispered.

"Yes.  I'd like that." She moved back into the
reach of his arms and settled against him
again.

Mulder waited quietly for a while, and saw that
Scully was watching him closely, looking
anxious.  Damn, he didn't want her to fear him.
He needed her trust now, more than ever.
"Scully?  How're ya doin'?"

"'S okay. How 'bout you?  Seein' anythin'
unusual?"

"No, nothing more than the normal little green
aliens." Whoops. She was looking panicky. "I'm
joking, Scully.  Just joking.  It's okay, you'll be
okay.  Skinner will find us soon and we'll get
you to the hospital."

She just looked at him and nodded sadly.  A
few minutes later she started to tremble, then
began to brush and slap at her legs, then her
arms.  "Scully? What is it?":

"Bugs.  Hunnerds of bugsssss, can't get 'em
all!" Her movements grew more frantic as she
tried to brush them off her body.  To humor her,
Mulder began making brushing motions as
though helping her remove the insects.  "How
am I doing?  Are they going away?"

"No!  No.......getting worse...Mulllder...help me!"

"Scully, it isn't real!  Remember that, it's just
the hallucinations.  Please Scully, trust me, just
this once.  They aren't real.  Scully!" He could
see the terror in her face and pulled her close,
whispering in her ear, "Scully, they aren't real.  I
won't let anything get you, I promise.  You're
going to be all right.  I'll make sure.  Trust me?"

She slowly stopped trembling but didn't leave
his embrace.  Then, slowly, he became aware
that she had faded from consciousness.

Her breathing was steady, as was her
heartbeat but her skin was cold and clammy.
Damn.  Keep her warm.  He pulled off his
trenchcoat and tucked it around her, then
moved her half onto his lap to share body
warmth.

"Scully, don't die on me.  Please, don't die.  I
couldn't take it if you did.  Just wait, hold on
and they'll be here soon...." he whispered a
litany to her in the murky darkness of the metal
room.

He felt the first convulsion as he heard the
pounding on the door.

"Skinner!  Watch out for the gas!  We're in
here!"  He yelled as he held down Scully's
seizing body.

Skinner and a team of haz-matted agents
poured into the room.

"What happened?" Skinner demanded, taking
in the scene at a glance.

"Scully was exposed to the nerve gas and just
went into convulsions.  We've been locked in
this room for at least two hours.  We need an
ambulance."  Skinner nodded and motioned to
two of the team members who brought in a
gurney.

"The gas has dissipated enough to get out
safely.  Come on!" Skinner led the way out of
the room.  Mulder stayed close to the gurney,
following it out to the ambulance.

He refused to be separated from Scully and
rode by her side all the way to the hospital.
Her seizures continued without abatement
despite anti-seizure medications given in the
ambulance and the emergency room.  He
focused his being on Scully, willing her to live,
fading everything else around him into a dull
roar of shouting voices and noise.

He was pushed aside and directed into the
sterile waiting room to wait for the result.  Pain,
fear, Scully.  He shouldn't have brought her
along.  He should have agreed to use the
respirators.  If she died, it was his fault.  And
he'd be alone.

She couldn't die.  Scully was invincible.  She'd
beaten worse.  He sat miserably on the hard,
lumpy chair.  Skinner was there somewhere; he
vaguely heard Skinner's anxious voice in the
mist surrounding him, couldn't catch the words.
He glanced up through blurry eyes and Skinner
seemed to be standing above him, saying
something urgently.  More people in the room,
wearing medical scrubs.  Not important.  Only
Scully was important.  Dumbly he sat, enduring
the wait, vaguely aware that he was crying but
unable to muster the energy to wipe away the
tears.

At last he saw a man dressed in scrubs
standing in front of him and looked up.  Scully's
doctor.  Mulder stood.

"How is she?"

"I'm very sorry Agent Mulder.  The damage was
too pervasive.  We weren't able to save her."

The shouting voices around him got suddenly
louder, echoing through the room.  The white
hospital light brightened to blinding as Mulder
tried to understand that his Scully was dead
and she wasn't coming back.  He could feel his
body jerk in rejection and shock.

"Scully?  Dead?  No....no..." Don't want to live if
she's gone.  Had he said that?  Well, it was
true.  Wherever she'd gone, he'd go too,
sooner or later.  Sooner.  He blinked through
the tears and felt the world begin to fade away
into thick darkness.
 

Georgetown Medical Center
February 21, 2000
10:00 a.m.

Fox Mulder felt consciousness slowly begin to
seep into his brain and fought against it.  He
knew why he didn't want this.  Scully was dead.
She'd died because of his goddamned
carelessness.  He didn't want to wake up, ever
again.  Couldn't face living without her there.

He could hear the heart monitor beeping, smell
the antiseptic odor of the room.  He'd passed
out and they'd admitted him.  No surprise.  Just
another example of Fox Mulder luck; his
partner dies and he has a fainting spell.

He heard the rustle of fabric and became
aware that somebody was sitting by his
bedside.  Not Scully, though.  Not his Scully.
Not ever again.

He could feel the tears seeping through his
closed eyelids.

"Hey Mulder, quit playing possum.  I know
you're awake," said a familiar voice.

His eyes flew open and he saw a very healthy
looking Dana Scully smiling brightly at him from
the bedside chair.

"Scully....?  You died!" Mulder sputtered
joyfully.  "They said you were dead!"

A look of sadness crossed her face. "No,
Mulder.  I didn't die; wasn't even close," she
said gently.  "You hallucinated the whole thing.
We were investigating that terrorist lab and you
got a good dose of their prototype nerve gas.  I
got you into another room and sat with you until
Skinner got us out."

She picked up Mulder's hand and began to
stroke it.  "You believed that I was the injured
one, tried to protect me from my 'hallucinations'
when you were dying of the gas.  By the time
Skinner got there your delusion had changed
and you believed that I had died.  And you
gave up.  You went into convulsions and
almost didn't make it."

Mulder held her hand so tightly that his
knuckles were white.  "I thought you were
dead.  I thought it was my fault, Scully, that I'd
lost you.  I...I couldn't face the thought of living
without you."

"I know," she whispered. "I heard you.  And I
kept telling you that I was there.  But you
couldn't hear me through the delusions.  I
called and called to you but you couldn't hear
me, Mulder."

He looked around and fingered the cloth of the
blanket with his free hand.  "This is real?  I'm
not hallucinating now, am I?  Not dreaming you
up because I want it to be true?"

"I'm real, Mulder.  As real as you are.
Sometimes, more," she grinned.  "I'll prove it to
you."  She leaned forward and gently planted a
kiss on his lips.  "That real enough for you?"

Mulder grinned.  "I don't know.  I think I need
some more convincing."

"Well, you're obviously feeling better, Agent
Mulder."

Both agents turned to see Walter Skinner in
the doorway, half-hidden behind a large
bouquet of flowers.  Mulder felt his face grow
red and noticed that Scully was flushed.

"How are you feeling, Agent?"  Skinner set the
flowers down on the nightstand.

"A little embarrassed. I seem to recall wrestling
Scully's gun away from her...."

"She had a few bruises, but the important thing
is that she got both of you through the crisis
although you gave us a few anxious moments."
Skinner gave Mulder a searching look.  "Of
course, you performed well yourself.  By your
own lights you were protecting Scully from
herself and doing your best to preserve her life.
On the whole, I believe that you both behaved
professionally."

Skinner grew solemn.  "However, Agent
Mulder, once you are released to active duty
you will be reporting for a refresher course in
hazardous materials safety; specifically, the
rules and regulations regarding the use of
protective gear.  And then you BOTH will report
for a week-long team-building conference to
hone your ability to work as partners.  Agent
Scully, you should have overridden Agent
Mulder's objections to using breathing gear and
should have donned it yourself when he
refused."  Skinner turned to leave the room,
then stopped.  "Oh, and Agents, I want a
photograph of that tower of furniture I expect
you to build.  No side trips this time."

AUTHOR'S NOTE AND
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT:

This is my homage to TBishop's fine story "Four More
Miles".  While reading her
story, I anticipated the ending you've seen above,
here.  It didn't end that way.
So I decided to do my own take on the idea.