AT LIBERTY (6/6) by Lacadiva Rating: PG-13/R for violence Category: Post-Colonization/Mulder-Skinner Friendship /Muldertorture/Skinnertorture/Krycektorture/Spendertorture/ScullyAngst. Spoilers: The Conspiracy Arc. Disclaimer: Please see chapter one. Summary: Mulder and Skinner fight to survive in a Colonizer's prison camp. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race. I have kept the faith." 2 Timothy 4:7 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ At Liberty (6/6) by Lacadiva SCULLY We found a densely wooded area and covered the truck with as much foliage as possible, and sat still for the night. We were, all of us, exhausted, but made plans to rotate watch over Mulder every three hours. It was my turn, and even though Skinner's turn was coming up, I decided I'd let him sleep a little longer. I ran my hand over Mulder's head, feeling the soft yet scratchy growth of new hair. I cringed when I found the branded barcode. I felt his limbs for broken bones, disturbed by his thinness. I am unable to detach myself emotionally as if forgetting that I am a doctor. I count every wound, every bruise, gash, scar and scratch and oscillate between outrage and empathy. I cry tears of bitter hateful anger and tears of unmitigated sorrow. I squeeze his hand, willing him, begging him to squeeze back. I cling desperately to the hope that Mulder would come to so he could know that I was here. I found a flashlight. The battery was dying, the light diminishing. Every few minutes I would turn it on and shine its dull light on Mulder's face, hoping to find his eyes open. Each time I was disappointed. I lay down beside him, letting my lips comes just to his ear. "Mulder? Mulder, it's me," I whispered, as if it were some magical incantation guaranteed to restore his failing life. "There are so many things I haven't had a chance to tell you. Things that I didn't know myself until now. Mulder, I won't say that I can't go on without you. But please know that the world, no matter how horrible or frightening, is a far better place with you in it. You are as important to me as my own life. No, more important than that, if you can imagine. I'm not ready to say goodbye to you yet, Mulder. So if you could allow me this one last indulgence. You see, as it happens, Mulder, and contrary to what you might think, I do love you. But such a thing seemed so insignificant when measured against the threat we face. Not anymore. You have my heart, Mulder. And if you die, you take it with you. Where the heart goes, the body must follow. So, what do you say?" His eyes began to flutter. His breath hitched. I sat up and stared down at him, hoping, praying that he was not lost to me. "Scully?" "Yes! Yes, it's me, Mulder." He smiled, opening his eyes to thin slits. "'Bout time you got here," he said, and drifted back to sleep. * * * SPENDER December 4th Former Canadian Wildlife Preserve I was never much of a camper. But I've learned to be. I've learned a lot recently. We hide from the enemy, but we also train, train to be fighters. The men we escaped with, under the tutelage of former Marine Walter Skinner, have turned into a rather formidable force. The men and women we've picked up along the way are also important members of our growing resistance unit. We learn day by day what it means to be human, what it means to be united, and how important it is that the forces that threaten to annihilate us never succeed. Mulder grows stronger everyday, as does my admiration for him. He is every bit the man I remembered back in the FBI and more. He may no longer wear the suits or the badge, but he is as sharp and as indefatigable and sometimes as infuriating as he was before. The thing is, more often than not, he is right. It is because of him, Skinner and Scully that we survive. Scully keeps us strong, both as a doctor and as a positive force in the resistance. It was difficult at first. People tend to dismiss her because of her diminutive stature, and chalk her fiery nature up to her naturally red hair. Sometimes, like me, they see her beauty before her strength, or mistake her vulnerability for weakness. What they miss along the way is that she represents the very best of what it means to be human: Compassion, strength, conviction, humility, resilience, and perseverance. No wonder even Diana could not allow Scully's demise. Everyone she touches cannot help but be better for it. As for me, I accept my role in this resistance. That I am placed so highly is a surprise to me, and very much an honor. My being on the inside has given me great insight into how the Colonizers operate and think, and what to expect from their human conspirators. I remember my father, always seeming to change sides at the drop of a hat. Always hedging his bet so that he would end up on the side of the winner, no matter who it might be. I have determined that there is only one side to be taken in this war, and I am dedicated to it. I remember Krycek once taunting me about becoming an important man. In some ways, and with thankfully no help from my father, I guess I am. * * * SKINNER I remember coming back from the war and feeling less than a hero. I remember being promoted to Assistant Director of the FBI only to watch as friends and colleagues who felt overlooked turned away. I remember my marriage to Sharon almost ending in divorce, but ultimately ending in her death. Not exactly an auspicious life. Things have changed. The concept for which we fight is as old as our species. The enemy we fight is older than that. My imprisonment has taught me many things. The most important is to be grateful for each day and for everyone in it. There is no more room for the pettiness of our overindulgent past. Rank means nothing. Position means nothing. All that we have is all that we need. To live is to struggle, and to struggle is to live. We no longer seek the conveniences and comforts that were once our only true goals. We now walk directly into the belly of the beast ready to take arms and fight. Ready to win. We will conquer the conquerors. I am convinced of it. I remember wondering if I had once abandoned all hope. I did for a while. Hope returned in the form of friends. So long as they are there, there will always be hope. * * * MULDER I find my concentration once again divided between thoughts of freedom and thoughts of Scully. While once I believed I would see neither again, fate has graciously chosen a different road for me. One that has many bumps along the way, but we've traveled roads like this one before. How many times have we been separated, snatched away from each other only to be returned, broken, battered, yet still who we are? Such resilience is surely a gift we dare not take for granted. I feel that the universe is in balance again, if such a thing is possible. I feel as if I can overcome whatever adversity comes this way, so long as Dana Scully remains by my side, and I remain by her. I will do everything I can to preserve and protect this privilege. I must. For life without Dana Scully, I have known since the beginning, is no life at all. While I cannot state with confidence or certainty that we will succeed against the alien conquering force, I do contend with clarity of thought and vision that our mere survival means the impossible is quite possible. So long as we are at liberty we cannot take it for granted. So long as other are enslaved or imprisoned, how can we breathe until they, too, are at liberty again? This is our mission. * * * SCULLY "Mulder?" He turned away from the maps laid out before him. He was looking more like himself. His hair was growing back. It is very gray, however. We've taken to calling him the Silver Fox behind his back. He'd finally stopped losing weight. His wounds were healing well. The slightly mischievous look in his eyes that I had started to miss was back. "We're ready to leave." He quickly folded the maps and tossed them onto the seat of the truck. "I'm driving. You wanna ride shotgun?" "Sure," I said. I go where you go, I thought, certain that by now he already knew. We are heading back to the States. Our mission is to pick up whatever survivors we can find along the way. We must also find ways to obtain supplies and take vehicles if we can to accommodate our rapidly expanding numbers. We will also take out as many Colonizer installations along the way as possible. It will not be easy. But we all look forward to the challenge. And to the future. Mulder offers me his hand to help me up into the truck. I take it, just because I have grown to appreciate the grandeur of small gestures such as these. That Mulder is alive and his hand is still warm and strong brings joy to my heart and a smile to my lips. "What?" he asks me. "Nothing," I say. We drive off, in search of the future. ~ ~ ~ THE END AT LIBERTY ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Thank you, as always, for your kind attention. Your comments may be send to lacadiva @ aol.com.