Blood Drive - 5/5
Lisa A. Bennett (lisabee@flash.net)

Disclaimed in part 1

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

Red Cross Boiler Room
12:08 p.m.

	After destroying the phone, Daniels finished the chant, but he wanted
Dana awake for the ritual.  He strolled easily over to where she hung limply
and patted her cheek with his open palm, taking care not to let any of her
impure blood touch his skin.

	"Agent Scully, you must wake up."

	When Scully opened her eyes, she was overcome with dizziness.  Her
immobility coupled with the blood loss was causing her to become woozy,
and she fought to clear her vision.  The cut on her neck felt tight, like it had
surface clotted, and she was thankful for the small favor.

	"Wha.what's happening?" she managed in a barely audible whisper.
She felt so weak, and it was becoming more difficult to support herself
enough to keep the tension off her wrists.

	"What's happening, Dana, is I am going to purify your blood, then
partake in the rite of consumption."  Then, with a smile, he added, "It's almost
over."

She heard a metallic sound and watched as Daniels moved a bucket
with the same pattern as the knife towards her.  It was the collection pail,
being placed to receive her blood.

He spoke to her in a more gravelly voice than before, "Dana, I advise
you not to move the sacred vessel, lest it is your wish to suffer needlessly.
The spirits will become angry, and their wrath is not something to be toyed
with.  Understand?"

Scully nodded once in feeble response.  He was changing right before
her eyes.  His face was developing more jagged features, and his voice was
becoming deeper, more demonic.  Even the hand which held the knife looked
larger.

He placed the receptacle between her feet, using them as an anchor to
hold it in place.  As she grew weaker, and it filled up, it would become more
stable, and the dead weight from her body would hold her feet in place.

	Scully willed herself to full alert at the realization that her end was
near, and that she couldn't count on Mulder to reach her in time, especially
since he had no way of knowing where she was.  She didn't even know how
she had gotten there, or exactly where there was.

She knew that now she was totally on her own.  Any chance of
survival rested solely on her shoulders, yet she obviously was powerless to
defend herself.  With certainty, she also accepted the other obvious reality.

She was not going make it out of this alive.

Daniels took one step back from her, and held the knife - blade
towards the sky - over his head.  He recited a verse in what sounded to Scully,
like latin.  Then he lowered the glowing blade between them.  His eyes were
wild, and his face seemed different, like the features were no longer only his
own, like they were almost superimposed with something else.

Scully tried to back away as far as she could, unmindful of the
renewed stream of blood running down her arms.  She began to tremble, as
she felt herself growing faint.

Daniels looked carefully at the encrusted cut on Scully's throat.  The
incision had to be continuous, or it's effects would be nullified.  He was going
to have to remove the clot so he could continue his work, but neither the
blade, nor his skin could touch it, and the front of her blouse was almost
totally soaked with blood.

But the back wasn't.

Keeping the knife in place, he reached behind her head, and grabbed
hold of her collar.  Yanking down on it, he tore it and most of the fabric from
her back.  The front of her blouse sagged with the weight of the blood, and as
he wiped the piece of cloth across the wound, reopening it, he got another
idea.

Scully winced as he touched the deep wound on her throat, and an
involuntary groan escaped her lips.  Fighting dizziness, she tried to pull in a
different direction, but his fist, still holding the cloth, closed around a
button
and jerked down hard.  The material made a wet, sloshing sound as it piled to
the floor.

She felt the air against her unprotected skin, and wanted nothing more
than to cover herself as she began to understand his thinking.  He wanted an
unobstructed pathway to make the life-ending slice.

Once again, Scully watched as whatever was left of Daniels raised the
hot knife over his head and recited his verse.  She began to sob.

She was going to leave this life without ever having told Mulder what
she really felt. She had never known anyone like him.  For all the times they
disagreed or he had left her to go searching on his own,  there were at least an
equal amount of times he had unhesitatingly been ready to give his life for
hers, no questions asked.  The unselfishness and purity of his devotion to her
well-being and the knowledge that he would end his life so that she could
continue living had driven her secretly to guilt-ridden tears many times.

It had also caused her to fall undeniably and inexhaustibly in love with
him.

She knew he was completely dedicated to her because she was the
only one who had stood by him, cared for him, and believed in him when
everyone else in his life had caused him pain or grief.  She was probably the
only reason he was still alive, and for that she could feel glad.  Glad that she
had made a difference in one person's life.  And for him, she would gladly
give her own.  She was happy to repay the favor.

Daniels had the knife in front of her again, menacingly close to the
seeping incision.  A look of stony determination set on her face as he brought
the blade to the base of the cut.

"You go straight to hell," she hissed.

"Agent Scully, we're already in hell," he leered at her.

Then she felt a sharpness as the point of the blade touched the hole in
her neck, causing her to gasp.  Tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she
readied herself for the inevitable, hoping that she would pass out before the
pain got too intolerable.

	He very slowly began to draw the hot dagger through her skin, and
Dana managed one scream before she thankfully lost consciousness.

	"Mulderrrr..!"  Then her head lolled backwards and she hung freely
>from the ceiling.

	"Scully! Get away from her you blood-sucking devil's spawn!"
Mulder jumped out of the darkness and aimed his gun towards Daniels.  He
was horrified by what he saw. Scully hung like a ragdoll, soaked in blood,
with no sign of life at all.

He hadn't gotten there in time.

Narrowing his eyes in determined rage, he steadied his aim and cocked
the gun.  He heard the beginning drops of blood striking the hollow metal in
the collecting bin.

	"Scully!" he yelled again.  "What have you done to her, you son of a
bitch!?"

	Daniels did not move away from Scully.  Instead he kept the knife on
her and did not look away before he spoke.

	"She is still alive Mr. Mulder, as she must be for the ritual.  And you
have no reason to fear her death, because although this human casing will
whither away, her soul will remain alive for eternity," Daniels voice was
rough, but calm.

	"Back away from her!" Mulder ordered.

	"There is nothing you can do for this body now, the ritual is almost
complete.   Our souls will combine, and she will live.  I know you don't want
to be responsible for her death.  If you shoot me, you will be killing her also.
Is that what you want, Mr. Mulder?"

	Mulder maintained his shooters stance while he considered what
Daniels said.  He'd studied various forms of Satanic worship and cultism.
What Daniels was doing was called transference, and he had heard of many
people who had the souls of others living conjoined in one body.  If that really
was what was happening here, and Scully's soul entered his body, he would
not allow himself to murder the body which possessed the soul of the only
woman he had ever loved.  He looked towards her limp body and knew what
he had to do.

	Daniels smiled triumphantly as Mulder lowered his gun and stared
longingly at the small woman's body.  Blood continued to steadily drip into
the bucket.

	"Can I at least say goodbye to her?" he asked, his voice cracking.

	Daniels looked at Mulder for the first time.  He saw the face of a
beaten man and an opportunity to secure his youthful immortality forever. He
stepped away from Scully and nodded towards Mulder.

	"Lay your gun on the floor, and walk slowly over.  If you attempt
anything, I will finish the ritual in a more, shall we say, agonizing manner,"
he
warned.

	Mulder did as he was instructed and approached an unconscious
Scully. His face crunched in realized despair as he watched her blood drain
slowly from a cut that ran from her neck to mid-sternum.

	Tentatively, he touched his hands to the bare skin of her belly, and ran
them slowly up to lift her head.  He caressed her cheeks, brushing the undried
tears away with his thumbs. As he brushed a soaked section of hair away from
her face, he whispered the only thing he could to her now.

	"I will always love you, Scully."

	Daniels stood behind Mulder, poised for the right moment.  When he
heard the agent profess his undying love for the woman, he raised the dagger
over his to bring it down and plunge it into the back of the young man.

	"Mulder!"

	The shout came accompanied by two rapid shots behind him.  Mulder
turned in time to have a shock stricken Daniels look at him.  The knife fell
>from his hands as his body shut down, and he fell forward into Mulder's arms.

	"This cannot happen.I'm supposed.to.live" he stammered.

	Then he slipped through Mulder's grasp and slumped to the ground.
Madison emerged from the shadows preceded by his gun, still pointing it at
the dead body on the floor.

	"Don't just stand there, Mulder, get her down and taken care of!"
ordered the burly man.

	Mulder spun around and attempted to free Scully from her binds, but
they were too strong and he would need help.  He could see the open wounds
on her wrists, and lifted her into his arms to relieve the pressure on the binds
and called for Madison.

	"Madison, I need help here. You've got to unhook her from the
ceiling."

	Madison, who was double checking Daniels for a pulse, moved
immediately to assist Mulder.  The beam that she was attached to was too high
to reach, so he quickly searched for a step ladder.

	While he searched, Mulder held Scully close to him in an attempt to
keep her warm until he could get her covered up.  He smiled at the thought
that she would have a fit if she knew she was topless and being held in his
arms right then.  She was so private about her body, although he couldn't
understand why.  Standing there, watching her chest rise and fall was the most
beautiful thing he had ever seen.  Suddenly, her eyes flickered open and he
could see her fighting to focus.

	"C'mon Scully, you can do it.  Come back to me, please," he pled.

	She recognized the voice, but could not get her vision to cooperate.
All she could see were blurred images and the shape of a man looming over
her, and she stiffened in instinctual fear.

	"No, Scully.  It's me, you're all right now," he voice cracked with
tears.  He lowered himself to whisper in her ear.  "I'm here."

	Scully relaxed as it dawned on her that it was Mulder speaking to her,
and it was his arms she was in. She felt the warmth of his body against hers
and a feeling of security encompassed her.  She knew that everything was
over, that he would keep her safe.

	"I thought you'd like it if I got tied up without any clothes on," she
playfully referenced his magazine back at the office.

	Mulder couldn't help but giggle at that.  "What?  Oh, uh, you saw
that?" he stammered.  "That was just, uh, the uh, featured pictorial this month.
I was just reading it for the articles."  He smiled childishly at her, as if
waiting
for her approval.

	Then she smiled as she remembered what he had said to her a few
moments before, and for an unknown reason, felt a desperate need to make
sure he knew she felt the same.

	"I love you, too."

But she was so cold and tired.  She just wanted to go back to sleep, and
she let her eyes drift shut again.

	"No, Scully!  You stay awake!  Scully, c'mon.  Stay with me!"

	Mulder's voice sounded so far away, but he wouldn't stop talking.
She just needed a little rest, and would talk to him later, couldn't he
understand that?

	"Scully," he warned.  "Wake up, you hear me?  Madison, get in here!"
he shouted.

	Madison appeared again, carrying a ladder to where Mulder stood
holding a very grave looking Scully.  If they didn't get help for her soon, she
was definitely not going to make it.  He wondered if she would anyway.

	"Get her unhooked, we've got to get her out of here, now."

	Madison could hear the tears in Mulder's voice, and his heart ached
for the man.  He could not imagine what it would be like to hold someone he
loved in his arms and watch them die.  He climbed as quickly as he could up
to the rafter and unhooked the clasp holding her up.  Then he watched as her
arms fell limply down into Mulder's grasp.

	Mulder maneuvered his head between her still bound hands and
flipped them over his head to distribute her weight, then tore off towards the
stairs with Madison right behind him.

	"Scully!  Dana," he shouted at the lifeless form, "Open your eyes right
now!  I know you can hear me, and now is not the time to be stubborn.
There'll be plenty of time for that later."  He was starting to ramble in
desperation.  He couldn't see clearly through the tears in his eyes, and he
almost didn't clear the stairway entrance.

	Scully saw Mulder smile when she opened her eyes.

	"Yes, I hear you and no, I am not stubborn," she managed weakly.

	Mulder laughed nervously.  "All right, you're not stubborn, but I need
you to keep your eyes open and keep talking to me, o.k.?  And I'm not going
to take `no' for an answer.  How's that for stubborn?"

	"Anyone ever tell you, you talk too much, Mulder?" She knew what he
was doing, but the peacefulness of sleep was beckoning her, and she was too
tired to resist.

	They reached the top of the stairway and Madison, who had heard
their playful banter stepped in front of Mulder to open the door.  These two
were quite a pair.  Here they were faced with the prospect of permanent
separation, and still they joked.  Couldn't they just be honest with each other?

	"Dana! No, God please, no!" Mulder sobbed.

	Madison watched as the petite body of the redheaded agent went limp
in Mulder's arms again.  They were losing the battle, and Madison felt himself
begin to break down at the sight.  Clearing his throat, he motioned for Mulder
to step forward, where a pair of EMT's were waiting, ready to spot treat her
and rush her to the best medical facility in Detroit.

	Mulder pulled his head out from under her arms and unwillingly
relinquished his hold on the woman who owned his heart.  He stood with his
arms hanging by his side, watching the paramedics labor exhaustingly over
Scully, while tears streamed down his cheeks.  He felt a hand on his shoulder,
and turned to see the somber face of Madison with pity and condolences in his
eyes.

	"No, she'll be all right.  She's got to be." he trailed off.

	The emergency medical team had strapped Scully onto a gurney and
were moving her towards the entrance of the building.  Mulder followed as if
he belonged with the team.

	"Mulder, there isn't anything more you can do for her now," Madison
said quietly.  "Let her go.  We'll find out where they're taking her and meet
them there."

	"I'm going with them," Mulder said firmly.

	"Mulder, you can't.  You'll only be in the way."  Madison reached to
stop him, but Mulder jerked away from his grasp.

	"I said I'm going with them.  She still needs me, Madison.  Don't try
to stop me."

	Madison held up his hands in surrender and allowed Mulder to follow
the EMT's into the back of the ambulance.  One of them pointed towards a
seat away from where they needed to work, and he saw some hand motions
that looked like Mulder was arguing.  Then he watched as Mulder moved
towards the front of the cabin.  Another worker shut the door and hit the back
of the ambulance twice, signaling everything was secure to move out.

	Madison said a silent prayer as they drove away.




Epilogue
October, same year


	Mulder's eyes shot open from the nightmare that had plagued him
since the case in Detroit.  He was sweating and had only been asleep a little
over two hours.  He sat up and rubbed his eyes, ready to add another night of
sleeplessness to his scorecard.

	As he swung his feet out of bed, he noticed the light coming from
under the bathroom door.  He was sure he hadn't left it on when he went to
bed, which could only mean one thing.  He quietly strode across the cold floor
towards the door.

	Using one knuckle to rap quietly, he called into the little room.

	"Scully, you o.k.?"

	He heard a sniffle, then a weary response.

	"I'm fine, Mulder.  I just needed something for my headache.  Go back
to bed, I'll be out in a minute."

	He tried the knob and found it unlocked, which surprised him, since
she started locking everything once they had gotten back from Detroit.  The
counselors said it was a natural reaction to severe trauma of this type, and to
let her work through it on her own terms.

	When he swung the door open, he saw her standing in front of the
mirror, staring at the scars and sobbing.

	He slowly approached her from behind, making sure she saw him in
the mirror before he touched her.  The wide, vertical line that ran from her
throat to the middle of her chest looked like a heart surgery scar to the
untrained eye, but he knew what went through her mind every time she looked
at it. He placed his hands on her shoulders and brought his head down to
nuzzle hers.

	"Dana, you are beautiful."

	Still crying, she lifted her hands, wrists up, towards the mirror.  The
scars there were large, raised welts and were difficult to keep hidden.  They
were distinctively like suicide attempt scars, and even most long sleeved suits
didn't cover them up entirely.

	"How can you say that, Mulder?  I'm hideous. I look like a street
suicide gone wrong."  Sadly, she added, "Everyone thinks I'm a lunatic."

	Other agents at the bureau had avoided her when she first went back to
work, more afraid of where the bandages were placed than the actual injuries
themselves.  Scully felt like a monster, but had refused the cosmetic surgery
portion of her treatment, saying that covering up evidence of the incident
would be a denial, and she needed to see the scars to maintain a rational
perspective on the situation.  Only after she had attained a level of comfort
and security in her life, would she have the surgery.

	"Scully, it doesn't matter what other people think."  He turned her
around to face him.  "What matters is that you are the most beautiful woman I
have ever known, inside and out.  And we both know it.  At least, that's what
matters to me."

	They gazed at each other for a long moment, then Dana smiled.  Not
just a facial movement, but a smile that came from her heart.  It was
something Mulder had not seen in a long time.

	"Mulder, I think I'm ready for the surgery."

	Mulder pulled her to his chest, smiling into her hair.  "We'll call the
surgeon first thing in the morning."  He liked it when they held each other like
this.  It felt good, it felt secure, it felt right.  "In the meantime, what do
you say we go back to bed and get some rest?"

	She let him lead her back to her bed, where she settled herself into his
arms, laying her head on his chest.  It was only a matter of minutes before she
drifted back to sleep.

	Feeling her breath even out, Mulder was content to hold her in his
arms until morning.  He laid with his eyes open, staring at the ceiling, and
silently mouthed the only words in his head.

	"Thank you."


End of Document
Blood Drive 5/5