Here is the third and final installment of "Guardian." Again, all the disclaimers apply -- these characters are the property of Chris Carter and the Fox Network and are used without permission. I authorize free distribution of this story as long as it remains in its original form and I am credited as the author. Any and all comments would be very much appreciated; please send praise or flames to XFScully@aol.com. ******************** GUARDIAN Part III by Amy Vincent ******************** Alexander Stephens Parkway, North Georgia 1:30 a.m. November 22, 1999 Dyer's grey rental car sped through the night at nearly 100 miles per hour; thank goodness he has an FBI badge to flash if we get pulled over, Scully thought. She clutched the satchel in her arms, drumming her fingers against the side. "It's good of you to do this, Dyer." He shook his head. "It's the only decent thing to do. I knew the plan all along but -- Kavyas made it sound as if the two of you had hidden away government secrets, like we had a right to steal back whatever we could get from you. But listening to you, well, I realized there was a lot more to it. And that a man's life is at stake." Scully smiled softly, but kept her strategies to herself. "There's no guarantee this will work, you know. But this is the best chance I've ever had. Thank you for that." "One thing kinda puzzles me, though," Dyer said, glancing sideways at her. "When we were leaving you sounded so angry. So bitter. Like you wanted him safe but didn't care what happened to him after that. You don't seem like that at all now -- I'm sorry if I'm getting too personal." Dana patted his arm. "Not at all -- it's not as if you haven't heard half of my life story already. And putting yourself on the line like this earns you the right to ask any questions you like. "Most of I said back at the house, I meant. I was infuriated with Mulder at first. I'm still angry that he didn't tell me about this -- that wounds me more deeply than I can easily tell you. But how can I regret the actions that brought Samantha home safely? Or the choices I made? I wanted knowledge about extreme possibilities; I may have gotten that knowledge at the highest possible price, but I did get it." She sighed and settled back into the seat a little -- tension or no, the hours were getting to her. "I'm not bitter, nor am I some forlorn, throwaway woman who shucked her job for a man. I made my own choices and fought my own battles. The truth is still out there, Dyer -- and during this time I have been its guardian. It has been difficult, and lonely, but it was my role, and my choice." Scully looked over at her companion, who seemed to understand. He cocked one eyebrow at her. "And -- you and Mulder?" "That I don't know about. There was a time I would have said nothing could damage the trust between us, but I was wrong. I -- I'll just have to see how we both feel when he gets back." Dana retreated within herself; Dyer noticed her withdrawal and kept quiet for a while. For her part, she looked up at the moon, tinted blue at the top of the windshield, and thought -- when he gets back. Not if. Been a long time since I could say that. Since I could afford to let myself remember, in hope instead of pain. *** Jonquil, South Carolina July 21, 1997 The Omelets a'la Mulder have definitely improved, Scully decided, as she settled in to her breakfast. When Fox had moved in three months ago, they'd made a pact to share the chores equally -- although this had meant putting up with some bizarre meal combinations (his fault) and the occasional streaky windows (her fault), they'd stuck to it. They'd both improved a lot -- in fact, she sometimes found it amazing how easy living together was. She'd worried about quarreling over stupid details, longing for personal space, slowing down their sex life -- and it simply hadn't happened. After being so close for so long, she and Mulder fit together perfectly, as if time had worn their curves and edges, shaping them into two halves of one whole. As she put a couple more biscuits on her plate, Mulder chuckled from across the table. "Watch out, Scully; if you keep eating like that, you'll get fat ankles and I'll have to divorce you." Dana balled up her napkin and tossed it at him. "You shouldn't cook such great breakfasts, then. Anyway, to divorce me you'd first have to marry me." "That's not such a bad idea." She'd eaten a few more bites of omelet before that sank in. Slowly, she looked up from her plate to study Mulder's face. The teasing grin she'd expected wasn't there; Fox was smiling softly, but his eyes were serious. "I'm not trying to rush you, or anything. Just talking it over. Have you ever thought about it?" Dana had to swallow a mouthful before she could answer -- strangely difficult with the sudden lump in her throat. She finally managed, "Yes, I've thought about it a lot." Good God, was she actually blushing? Scully managed to continue; "Sometimes it's hard for me to imagine us as an old married couple, but I have to admit, it's impossible for me to imagine being married to anyone else." "Same here," Mulder said, taking her hand in his own. "Except I'm not having too much trouble seeing us as an old married couple any more." The intensity of the moment was almost overwhelming -- Dana delighted in it for a moment, but then could take it no longer. Glancing away momentarily, she added, "You and my mother. She's been thinking about this longer than either of us, I bet. Based on the last couple of times we spoke, I think Maggie's already ordered invitations, and just sits by the phone waiting for the call." Fox laughed. "I can just see her. Now that's the whole reason I want to marry you, Scully. To get in that family of yours." "You've been in the family for years, and you know it. But that's not really the whole reason -- ?" She angled an eyebrow at him, teasing. "You know it's not," Mulder whispered, leaning in closely. She tilted her head back as he opened her mouth with his own, kissing her deeply and slowly. She responded warmly, flattening her hands against his chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken. After a few moments, he pulled away. "Umm - neither of our summer school classes starts until ten -- " "Good thing. Otherwise we'd have to call in sick." Scully kissed him again, quickly, then took him by the hand to lead him up the stairs. "I do have to insist on two things, Mulder." "Okay, okay -- but I'm on top next time." She swatted him. "I'm serious, Mulder. First of all, if we ever do marry, I'm keeping my maiden name." "No problem with that," he shrugged, as they walked into the bedroom. Fox began untying the belt of her robe, and kissed her forehead gently as he pulled it from her shoulders. "Feminist principles?" "Yes -- but mostly because it would be too strange, the two of us calling each other Mulder and Mulder." He laughed joyfully, pulling his own T-shirt over his head. Scully, giggling, pushed him onto the bed, falling atop him as she did so. "Second, no bizarre proposals. It would be just like you to rent a billboard, or put the ring in one of these omelets -- " "That's the only thing I *haven't* put in the omelets so far." She was laughing as Fox rolled her beneath him, but his kisses soon silenced her; he explored the soft corners of her mouth with his tongue, slowly and deliberately, until her breath was coming in soft little gasps. After a moment, Mulder pulled away, serious now. "Don't worry, Scully," he whispered, his voice husky. "I would never make a joke out of proposing to you." "Promise?" Dana murmurmed, then traced around the edge of his ear with her tongue. Fox shivered, and embraced her even more closely. "No surprises. I promise." *** Well, you lied about that too, Mulder, she thought, blinking damp eyelashes. They'd kept discussing and joking about the topic during the remaining two months he'd been with her, but no more -- still, in the spring near the end of her pregnancy, she'd found a tiny jewelry box in the toe of one of Mulder's shoes, which she'd been planning to give to charity. Wrapped around it was a note: "Dana, if you've been snooping, or for some reason want to wear my shoes, you've spoiled your Christmas. I had a big formal performance planned for your entire family, but if you've found this ahead of time -- I love you. Will you marry me?" Scully had cried for almost an hour, cradling the note to her enormous belly, before she'd been able to bring herself to open the box. He'd chosen a beautiful ring -- a simple, perfect diamond, cut in the pear shape she loved. She was so tempted to wear it, to accept the paper proposal; it would have been a symbol of their love -- AND wiped the smirk off the face of that witch in her Lamaze class who couldn't get past the fact that a single adult woman was having a baby. But it would have been a lie. Mulder wasn't there to be married, and she was no longer entirely certain she could have married him. Not after an abandonment so complete and devastating. "We're here," Dyer said suddenly. Dana looked up as they slowed down next to a gate that said, "Constance Park." He pulled his car up on the outside of the gate, stopping there. She didn't have to ask why they didn't drive in -- if there were people inside who *didn't want* their interference, it was important that their approach be extremely quiet, and their getaway as quick as possible. She took a deep breath as she slung the satchel around her shoulder, then fished her weapon from its pockets. "I'm ready if you are. How long until --" "According to the data I saw, about a half hour. But these guys don't exactly run on Eastern Standard Time -- you can't really clock them." Scully nodded; together they set out into the park. It was dark, truly dark -- miles and miles away from any form of artificial light and with only a sliver of crescent moon. Dana adjusted as best she could, but the finest night vision in the world wouldn't have made their uneven gravel trail any easier to navigate. She realized they were headed uphill; the gravel slipped under her tennis shoes, making her balance precarious. Hope Dyer's doing okay in those dress loafers, she thought -- When suddenly, he slipped. His arms pinwheeled out in an attempt to balance himself, knocking Scully over. She stumbled into the nearby ditch, her left foot punching through a rotting treetrunk on the ground with an audible THWACK! Streaks of pain shot up her leg, and it was all she could do not to cry out as she fell the rest of the way to the ground. She might as well have screamed -- they'd been noticed. A gunshot rang out; she heard both the bang and the impact in a nearby tree. As she went for her own weapon, trying to ignore the burning agony in her ankle, she heard Dyer return fire. After that, the only sound Dana could hear was her own gasping breath, the only sight she could see that same breath fogging in front of her. Dyer suddenly ducked into her field of vision. "Are you all right?" "He didn't hit me, but my foot -- " The pain in her ankle was lessening, but it was being replaced by a forbidding numbness. Scully could also feel blood soaking her jeans; the wood had apparently ripped the skin. "Here, quickly -- " Dyer put an arm around her to try and lift her up. But the renewed pressure on her foot brought all the agony back. "Oh, DAMN!" she hissed, unable to bite back her whole reaction. They're coming for you, Dana. You're going to get killed here and Mulder isn't going to get home, oh, damn. Enjoy your last sunrise -- It's only two in the morning. It can't be sunrise. Scully began to shiver from something far more profound than the night chill as she realized what the faint pink light at the top of the hill had to be. "Dyer, look!" "They're here. We don't have much time -- let me do this." Dyer held out his hand for the satchel. Dana bit her lip. Suddenly, this all seemed very convenient. Dyer came into her house with Kavyas -- couldn't that be a rather weak variant of the good cop/bad cop scenario? Dyer was pulled into her story so easily; he'd won her trust -- and now he'd 'accidentally' injured her just short of her goal, exposing her location to men who were no doubt running down the slope to kill her. And there he sat, hand out, trying to get the package the government wanted so desperately. He could be lying. He could be for real. Call it. Dana thrust the satchel into his hands, whispering only, "Run!" Dyer took off, his fleeing form silhouetted against the pale pink light. In a moment, even the sound of his footsteps had faded, and she sat in silence yet again. She hefted the gun up, two-handed firm grip straight from Quantico, and listened; Scully forced herself not to think about Dyer's authenticity, the aliens, or even Mulder -- forced her entire mind to focus only on listening. Only on the sounds around her in the dark. Behind her, a twig snapped. She turned, firing at the sound, aiming only by ear. The close-range BANG deafened her ears for a moment -- had that been one of the agents? Had she just fired at nothing, revealing herself yet further? In something approaching panic, she punched at the wood entrapping her foot, feeling it snap away. But as she pulled her leg free, wincing at the movement -- The light went beyond white, beyond bright. It came from no one source, it seemed, but somehow surrounded her, suffused her. The earth seemed to shift beneath her; still deafened by the blast, Dana felt but did not hear the vibrations of an immense power nearby. As suddenly as it had begun it was over; Scully looked up, blinking her eyes against the aftereffects of the blinding light. After a second she could see the slivered crescent moon again, and realized the ringing in her ears was dying down somewhat. She pushed herself up -- the ankle hurt like hell, but wasn't broken, it seemed -- and looked around her. A man in a suit lay not 15 feet away, a gun in his hand. Limping to his side, Scully checked for a pulse -- he had one, strong and steady. She'd hit him squarely in the shoulder, but if the other agents (and she had no doubt there were others) found him soon, he would live. Dana wasn't sure whether to be glad or not. "Dr. Scully!" Dyer called. She looked behind her in vain -- nothing was visible more than twenty feet from her face. "Get the car! Hurry!" Is Mulder there? Is he alive? Are you just going to escape while I go for the car? Dana wanted to scream all of this at him, but instead hobbled down the hill as quickly as she could, trying like hell to ignore the jabbing pains through her leg. He's right, we have to get out of here, you'll find out about Mulder in a minute - I don't want to wait a minute - I want to know now - GODDAMMIT Dana get the car. She finally skidded to the bottom of the path and made her way to the automobile; Scully cranked it and hit the headlights, grateful for the illumination. She pulled up the narrow hillside path as quickly as she could, screeching to a halt only when she saw the form of the agent she'd shot lying beside the road. At the very periphery of the headlights' glow, Dana saw Dyer waving frantically. "Oh, God, he's for real," she breathed, driving away from the path towards him. As she came to a stop just short of the trees between them, she peered through the underbrush towards the clearing where Dyer stood. Lying there in the tall grasses, half-lit by her car's lights, was the prone figure of a man. "Mulder -- " *** Chickasaw County Hospital Lambert, Georgia 4:00 a.m. "He's severely dehydrated, and, I suspect, in shock. Other than that, I can't detect anything wrong with him. How did he get in this condition -- ?" Dyer cleared his throat as he flashed his badge. "I'm sorry, Doctor, those details are classified. But Mr. Mulder's prognosis is good?" "Yes; he'll need to stay in the hospital for a few days so we can keep a watch over him, but I don't see much potential for complications," the doctor shrugged. Scully nodded impatiently. "Can I see him?" During the wild drive into town, she'd only been able to glance at Mulder's form in the back seat, where Dyer was ineptly trying to check him out. It was enough to convince herself that it was truly Mulder, but not nearly enough to satiate the deep hunger within her soul. "Sure -- we're moving him to his room right now. Meanwhile, stay off that ankle; that's a nasty sprain and the stitches don't need straining either." Dana glanced down at the bandages around her left foot; "No argument here. Just let me get to his room, and I promise, I won't budge." "Room 268," the doctor offered, as Scully used her new crutches to pull herself to her feet. Dyer half-rose, as if to accompany her, then thought better of it and sat back down. She made her way to the elevator and down the hall, her heart thumping wildly against her chest. Finally, Scully opened the door and saw him. Mulder lay in the hospital bed, unconscious. After all the suspense, after all the infinite ways she'd imagined this moment, the reality was almost comically normal -- he was tucked in tightly, with his head propped up on pillows. Nothing so out of the ordinary, except the IV. Scully hobbled up to his side, dropping the crutches as she sat on the side of the bed. Mulder had a beard now, and longish hair -- while he'd obviously been able to tend to both sometime within the last two years, he hadn't done it anytime soon. She put her hand to his cheek, drinking in the sight of him; he's got a few new wrinkles, she thought, and there's some grey in this hair. Why am I surprised? During his absence, he hadn't aged in her mind -- strange to think now that he was, after all, only a few months shy of forty. "Welcome home," Dana whispered, closing her eyes against sudden tears. And as she sat there, looking down at her hand covering his, she missed the moment when he passed from unconsciousness into mere sleep. *** Not this dream again. Normally Mulder clung to his dreams -- they were the only escape for him now, the only break from the agony, the monotony. The only way for him to glimpse the life he'd had before. Even his recurring nightmares from before were vaguely comforting in their familiarity. Yet this dream hurt too much. It was memory more than dream, and too painful and too sweet to relive. Yet his mind returned to it again and again. Those last hours with Dana -- he'd made his pact earlier that day, sworn himself over to the force he feared most in the world. Fox had come home completely terrified, but determined to keep up a normal facade. On any usual day, he never could have pulled it off; although he considered himself braver than most, the prospect of what faced him shook him to the core. Mulder had made a life's work of collecting abductee stories -- the horrors had always been personal to him. He'd known that Samantha was no doubt suffering them. The idea of these things happening to him was frightening -- although not as much so as his fear for his sister. Had it been otherwise, he couldn't have made this deal. When he gave himself up, Fox would also lose whatever hopes he'd had of seeing Sam again. She would be as far from him as she ever had been. But she would be safe, Mulder reminded himself -- that, too, was an acceptable trade. Agonizing, but acceptable. But Dana! Looking at her across the dinner table, knowing these were his last hours with her, was the purest hell he had ever known. She had been ill these last few days, some stomach thing, and so was simply padding around the house in her sweats; instead of talking over the day with him, looking into his eyes with that gaze from which he could hide nothing, Scully was simply forcing down a little dinner before she crawled off to bed. After she'd gone up to their room, weak and weary, Mulder sat in the living room for a long time, crying with deep, racking sobs as he hadn't since - - God, since he'd thought Dana was dying so long ago. That was the first time he'd known how deep his love for her ran, the first time he'd realized she was a part of him now, someone he literally could not live without. And now, even knowing that, he was surrendering her. Once he'd cried himself out, Fox went up to join her. Dana was fast asleep, curled up on her side of the bed. He undressed quietly and lay beside her; sensing his approach even in sleep, Scully snuggled in closely to him. Mulder wrapped his arms around her, breathing in the soft scent of her hair. "Oh, Scully, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. This is going to hurt you so much -- " he whispered. "I'd give anything for there to be another way. Anything. But I can't let her suffer any more than I could let you Not if I could stop it." His voice choked as spoke, and he closed his eyes in an attempt to calm himself. Yet he couldn't protect himself from the memories. Just lying there beside her reminded him of countless other nights -- of a hundred times they'd loved one another in this bed. "If I'd known we didn't have much time, I wouldn't have waited so long. I would have -- " No. He wouldn't regret a moment he'd spent with her, or a single choice they'd made. The way things had happened had been beautiful. Perfect. Fox couldn't ask for anything else -- except a way out of this bargain. But he knew there wasn't one. For a few minutes, Mulder contemplated waking her, making love to her one last time. Tired and ill as Dana was, she would still respond to his caresses, not begrudgingly but sweetly and tenderly, as she always did. Yet he knew it would be a mistake. He couldn't possibly bear *knowing* it was the last time. Fox buried his face in her auburn hair, fighting past his exhaustion in an attempt to stay awake and treasure these last hours. Strange -- he'd spent a great deal of his life in emotional pain. Yet this ultimate misery was not without a deep comfort. "It's worth every moment of the hurt, Scully. Loving you is worth losing you," Mulder whispered shakily. "Whatever happiness I've had in my life I owe to you. Even if we'd had a hundred years together, I could never have thanked you enough for that. I hope you'll understand -- " The dream shifted again, pulling Mulder away from the bittersweet memory. He fought against the tide of consciousness pulling at him -- no, not again. I can't take the light, the pain, just after this. Just one more moment -- *** A light rap at the door stirred Scully from her reverie; she glanced up to see Dyer standing awkwardly in the doorway. For the first time, Dana noticed that he had a black eye -- apparently he'd run into a little resistance in the park himself. She grabbed a crutch and wobbled towards him. "How is he?" Dyer asked. "Resting comfortably. Physically, there's nothing extraordinary wrong with him; emotionally -- well, if Samantha's any basis for judgement, it'll be a while before Mulder's back to his old self. It shouldn't be as serious for him -- after all, she was missing over ten times as long as Mulder -- but it's not going to be easy." "Your work isn't over, then," Dyer said. Scully raised an eyebrow at him, then nodded. "You're right, of course. However long it takes for him to recover, I'll be by his side. After that -- " Dana bit her lip, then suddenly changed the subject. "Do me a favor? Last one today, I promise." He smiled. "Sure thing." "Call Samantha and tell her what's happened; I ought to do it but -- I think I'd get so emotional I couldn't explain everything to her. And tell her to bundle Rebecca up and come down here." Good Lord, Mulder was going to wake up to the baby sister he'd never expected to see again and the daughter he didn't know existed. Surprise, surprise -- "No problem -- but there is one thing you never explained to me." "What's that?" "Bloodline. It wasn't predictive, you said, and surely the aliens have better records of their activities than you did. Why did they want it, then?" "They didn't want it. But they wanted to make damn sure the government didn't get it, either. Mulder and I -- we can only do so much about them. But the knowledge we had in the hands of the government -- well, that might be a different story." She folded her arms across her chest, and studied Dyer for a moment. "What about you? Kavyas isn't going to like this." "I know. I think this will be too high profile for him to," Dyer paused and gulped, "eliminate me, but -- let's just say I see Arctic Circle pass checks in my future." She smiled at his joke, but knew the danger Dyer'd placed himself in on their behalf. "That's not what I see in your future. Know what I do see?" Dyer shrugged, honestly puzzled. Scully continued, "I see you getting in your rental car right now and driving to FBI headquarters. You manage to get in to see Walter Skinner -- don't take no for an answer from that secretary of his. When you see him, tell him I sent you. And that I think it's time for an abandoned department to be reborn." "The X-Files?" "They're all still there, in the basement. Skinner's always wanted to reopen them -- but he's been waiting for the right agent to come along. I think maybe that's you." "Me? I don't know that much about the paranormal -- a little about the aliens, but beyond that --" "Trust me, Dyer, it isn't belief that matters. If it were, I never could have done it myself. What matters is a committment to the truth, an open mind, and the courage to stand against whomever may oppose you. You've shown me that today; my recommendation should be enough to convince Skinner. Is it what you want to do?" After a moment, he nodded. "The X-Files are always yours and Mulder's, really -- but I would be proud to serve as their guardian." Scully smiled and touched his hand. "And if you ever need our help -- find us." Dyer squeezed her hand, then headed down the hallway. She watched him go for a second, his trenchcoated form disappearing into the darkness near the stairs. Dana then turned and sat next to Fox again. Gently, Scully took his hand in her own. The light touch against his skin stirred Mulder from his sleep. No, no, not yet -- he protested against his waking, until realizing that he wasn't in the ship any longer. What the -- Fox opened his eyes; he was in an ordinary hospital room. In a normal bed. And Scully -- He clutched her hand with such force she actually jumped, and looked up to see Mulder staring at her in shock. "Mulder?" she whispered. Before he could answer, Fox ran his hand up her arm, over her shoulder, touching her neck, her face -- "It is you. It really is. Oh, Scully -- " He pushed himself up from the bed, taking her in his arms so tightly she could scarcely breathe. She wrapped her arms around him, feeling his heartbeat against her own again. "It's me, Mulder." Joy was overwhelming her, bringing tears to her eyes at the same time it brought laughter to her voice. "It's really me." "I never thought I'd see you again," he murmured into the side of her neck. Fox sighed shakily, glorying in the rich scent of her hair; he thought he'd committed every detail of her to memory, relived it all endlessly and exactingly during these last years, but it paled so next to the warm, living reality. "Same here. " She'd thought of so many things to say to him -- imagined everything from passionate declarations of love to slapping him in the face. We loved each other so much, she thought, and yet you still abandoned me. I know why you did it -- I wouldn't even argue with your reasons. But the lying, the lack of trust -- Yet even as she battled for words, Dana realized something new. Mulder's always taken things upon himself. Tried to handle things on his own. It's part of his dishonesty *and* his courage, to assume that he has to bear his burdens alone. Part of his arrogance and part of his self-sacrifice. All the bad qualities that had so injured her were elemental to the nobility and bravery that made her love Fox in the first place. That made her love him still. "There's so much to tell you, Mulder," she said, reaching up to ruffle his hair. "A lot has changed since you left." "It doesn't matter," he whispered, taking her face in his hands. "Not as long as you're all right, and I still have you." Dana caught the note of fear in his voice, and pulled him close yet again. "Oh, Mulder. You'll always have me." *** THE END *** Author's note: things still aren't entirely right between Fox and Dana; there will be a followup story to this (a much briefer followup) entitled "Renewal." Look for that in about three weeks. Also, I edited out a bunch of flashbacks -- if anybody's curious about when Dana found out she was pregnant, or what Skinner said when he told Scully that Mulder was leaving the Bureau, or virtually any missing scene from this sequence of events, just email me; while these flashbacks may have been too much to include in the story, I would still love to farm them out! Contact me at XFScully@aol.com if you're interested.