Designing Desperation: Last Lines By Chewie94@aol.com Part 3/3 Arlington National Cemetery Saturday, November 30 Flowers and memorabilia were scattered over the top of the closed casket. The pastor stood at the head, and Dana Scully just off to his right, mere feet away from the body of her partner. She looked at the ground during the prayer then looked up and stared endlessly at the casket, her eyes suddenly blurred with tears. She didn't try to fight them. Her whole life had been spent putting up walls around herself, rebuilding and patching any wall that crumbled. She had been known to other agents and superiors as the Ice Queen, the uncaring, detached and unapproachable Federal Agent Dr. Dana Katherine Scully. She had never let her guard down in front of others, only very few times had she allowed herself to be comforted by Mulder: when she had been taken by Donnie Pfaster, Melissa's death. Other agents would have taken advantage of Dana when her guard was down, to berate her or mock her. But not Fox Mulder... never Mulder. He had always been the one to comfort her in times of need, his fairly often overprotectiveness bothersome but touching. "As we stand here on this beautiful winter's day, we are reminded of the life Fox William Mulder led, of his duties to the people, his courage. Fox was-" *No, not Fox, Mulder.* Dana wanted to say. "-saving the lives of many, spending his days selflessly defending and upholding the laws, far surpassing the duties of any American citizen," continued the pastor. "I am sure there are many here who could and would vouch for the loyalty they remember in Fox, the lives he saved-" *Including my own,* Scully realized. *He saved my life countless times, put his own in danger. He died saving my life.* She tuned out the rest of what the preacher was saying. Assistant Director Skinner was to her right, his face creased in attempt to hide his own feelings. Dana knew he had been very upset by his agent and friend's death. Mulder's mother was in the crowd across from her, her hand on her mouth and tears streaming down her face. The poor woman has lost so much, now she is alone. Dana wanted to try and comfort Mrs. Mulder, but no words sufficient enough to comfort her came to mind. Dana knew that the Lone Gunmen were there somewhere, disguised or hiding, but listening and watching. She had not been able to restrain herself when she had reported to them regarding Mulder's death and had cried openly, especially upon seeing their faces of surprise- they had not known yet, or perhaps they knew, but were not convinced. Dana had even allowed and been comforted by Frohicke's embrace. She was well aware of his attraction to her, but knew that the hug was merely a gesture of sorrow on his part. On Dana's left and holding her hand was Margaret Scully. Fox Mulder had been like a son to her, and the mother wept for the loss. She and Dana had cried together one night days after Mulder's death, for hours, reminiscing about him crying for the lifestyle he had been forced to grow up in, for his quest to find his sister, now tragically cut short. *If Samantha's alive, I swear to find her for you, Mulder.* She noticed attendants of the funeral were walking away, and rain began to fall. Unconsciously, Margaret opened the umbrella for her daughter, then walked toward their car. She knew she longed to be alone. Dana's eyes followed everyone as they left. Not many had come to the funeral, but more than Mulder would have expected. Perhaps the other agents finally began to feel bad about the name-calling and the jokes they had made for Mulder, his most popular name being *Spooky.* *Spooky and the Ice Queen. Didn't we make a pair?* Skinner was the last to walk away, save for Dana. She lingered at the side of the casket, running her fingers along the smooth contours, letting the umbrella drop to the ground, standing there until she was soaked by the falling rain. Finally, her hair dripping and her suit rumpled and wet, she walked away from her partner's side, leaving him alone to be buried peacefully. No one could notice the tears she cried that mixed with the raindrops flowing down her face. XXX Margaret Scully's Home Saturday, November 30 Margaret Scully listened noiselessly outside her daughters bedroom. She had brought her back to her old home, given her some hot chocolate and sent her to sleep. Instead, Margaret heard only muffled sobs emanating from Dana's bedroom, an occasional shift on her bed. She had been crying uncontrollably since the funeral, but Margaret understood her daughter's sorrow. Before her husband Bill's funeral, it had only seemed like a dream, that any moment Margaret would wake and find her husband there at her side. The funeral, however, had meant finality, an ending to the dream, and a certainty that Bill Scully was indeed-- dead. She would never see her husband's face again, save for in pictures or home videos. The same applied for Melissa, only it was harder because she was murdered. And now for Dana, Fox's death was a reality. Not only in the fact that she would never see him again, be comforted by him or love him as Margaret had been sure the two were meant to love, but that Fox had risked and given his own life for Dana. Margaret knew her daughter hated that fact, wished that he hadn't leapt in front of the bullets, hadn't died for her. Dana wished she had died with him, next to him while around the two a fight broke out between the good and bad parties. For Margaret, she was glad Dana was alive, thankful to Fox, but also deeply grieving for the loss of someone she considered a son. In her room, Dana buried her head in her pillows, drowning out her own sobs. She had never allowed her feelings to show as much as she had these past days, but now... She wasn't even sure exactly what had set off the second bout of crying after she had gotten in the car at Arlington Cemetery. Perhaps it was the rows upon rows of graves, the sinking and saddening feeling that Mulder was now one of those white headstones, anonymous to everyone except those who really cared about him. *It would be a short list,* Dana thought. *There were very few who would actually visit Mulder's grave site. I will be there, Mulder,* Scully promised. *I owe you at least that much.* To think that they had been placed as partners to disagree with each other: he to believe in the paranormal nonsense found only in tabloids and fiction stories, and she to debunk his work. *When had they agreed to disagree?* At some point, Dana had let Mulder in her world, had dropped one small opening in her walls to allow him to care for her, to be with her, and for the two of them to become one of the, if not *the* greatest pair of agents the Bureau had to offer. Dana had no idea at what point this had taken place, but it had been the greatest decision, conscious or otherwise, that she had ever and would ever make. Dana remembered the letter A.D. Skinner had handed her before the start of the funeral. He had explained that he was under strict orders to give her the letter. "Orders from whom?" she had asked. "Agent Mulder gave this to me a few months back, after your injury from Alex Krycek. He said that should anything happen to him or an extreme event should take place that he wanted you to have this letter." Skinner had paused then continued with, "I still have the letter you gave me for Mulder. If you want I can return it to you." She had merely nodded. *Both* of them had given letters to Skinner in the event that anything happened to them-- she had never known about his letter and was sure he did not know a letter from her had been written, too. Now, however, she wanted to read Mulder's final words to her. She would cherish the letter, she knew, no matter what it said because it was from *him*, and personally to *her*. Reaching down to her purse, she retrieved it. Dana sat up in her bed, drawing a deep breath and ripping the envelope open. Dear Dana, I guess if you're reading this letter I am either dead or something tragic has happened. I had hoped this day would never come, that we would continue on in our work and I would find the truth I seeked for so long. We worked dangerously, Dana, and I am sorry, so sorry, to have put you through the things I did. I blame myself for each scar and bruise you obtained while working on the X-Files, especially a certain microscopic scar on the back of your neck. Dana Scully smiled at that last line. She could picture Mulder writing this letter, smiling halfheartedly as he wrote, trying to make the letter lighthearted, but failing miserably. It was hard, for her, she knew to write a letter with the perspective of being dead, trying to think of every word you would *want* to say to your best friend if you were to die. During your abduction, Scully, I knew that I should have warned you about the choices you had, about the danger you were in if you continued to work with me. I care for you, Dana, and I never wanted to see you hurt. How I could have been so selfish as to never warn you I'm not sure. I was so wrapped up in my own crusade that I never thought... I hope that is considered my apology, although its nothing near what I would have wanted to say in person. As of the time I am writing this, I have never told you my true feelings, Dana. I've wanted to, but was always so afraid that if I told you how I felt, it would complicate our unique friendship. I didn't want anything to change, I guess. I want you to know, probably too late for any significance, that I love you. I loved you since the moment you walked into my office. I hope you somehow sensed it while we worked together; don't worry, either, I think I sensed it from you. Dana paused in her reading to wipe away the tears that had begun to form in her eyes. One had already dropped onto the page she was reading, and she hastily dried it before reading on. I want you to know that you were the only person I ever trusted Scully. You were always there for me, and I hope that I left the world in a way that suited the feelings I have for you. Every time I thought of you, you made me smile, even in my most depressing and angry moods. Please don't cry for me; please don't stop doing what you like, whether you decide to go back to Quantico or pursue your medical career, or if you decide to stay with the X-Files Division. If not, I only hope that the X-Files will someday be reopened by someone who can make those who caused us pain pay. I wanted you to know these things because I was too much of a coward to tell you to your face- I hate myself for that. Please promise me that you will get married, have a great family, be happy. All I ever wanted for you was happiness. Don't give up, Dana- I know you never will. Love always, Fox Mulder She looked at his shaky penmanship, memorizing the unique curve and slant of every letter. She slowly folded the papers in her hands, shaking and trembling with tears. *I love you too, Mulder.* She set the letter on her desk by the bed, then flipped the clock radio on. She wasn't tired, but knew she needed rest. Her head was throbbing from her crying, her face hot and sticky. A song began playing on the radio. Dana had always enjoyed the song, but tonight it took on a new meaning. She listened carefully to each word: <> <> As the chorus continued to play, Dana whispered to the darkness, "Goodbye." XXX Epilouge Arlington National Cemetery 5 months later Dana Scully laid the bouquet of roses on top of the newly grown grass that waved in the light wind. Only one other flower arrangement was on Mulder's grave site from his mother. The flowers were withered and dry, Scully noticed. They had probably been there a few days already. She had tried to get to *visit* with Mulder everyday but, realistically, it was impossible. *Especially recently*, she realized. Not because she was too busy, but everything she did, every autopsy or examination reminded her of Mulder. She had tried hard, too hard, to continue their work in the X-Files, but without Mulder the cases seemed so useless and meaningless. They were *his* cases, and at that time Dana couldn't even open one of his neatly labeled and strictly documented case files without bursting into tears. It had gotten easier of late, her emotions were more in check these days, her life was more in control. Still, Skinner had noticed her drawbacks to working on the X-Files and after only two weeks had given her a transfer back to Quantico. She had consented, of course, but protested when he wanted to permanently close the X-Files Division. It was the last part of Fox Mulder that was alive, and someday, when Dana could handle it, she would go to work on them, to find his answers, his sister, and to pass around the revenge platter to the appropriate parties. Not now, not when her decisions would be based by her feelings for her departed partner, but someday, she knew. Slowly, Dana ran her hand over the tombstone she and her mother had chosen. They had invited Mrs. Mulder, but she had adamantly refused to leave her home. Margaret had started to cry when they had decided on the lettering, and now, Dana traced each letter with her finger, remembering the day she had written those words down to be engraved in the stone. Barely audible, she whispered the words: Fox William Mulder 1961- 1997 Beloved Son, Friend, and Brother No Regrets Dana Scully sighed theatrically as she prepared herself to say what it was she had come to say. "I thought you'd like to know how things are going with everyone. I have been okay, better as everyday goes on. My mother and yours as well have recovered from the initial shock, but both cannot stop saying how proud they were of you. It was hard, Mulder. I felt so bad that you died for me, that I never got to tell you that I loved you, too. I only pray that you can hear me now and that you know, even though its too late. I'm sorry that I was transferred out of the X-Files, but Skinner has promised to keep it operational until I'm ready to take on the cases again, which may be sooner than you think." She paused here, remembering the heat and pressure she had been feeling during her few weeks on the X-Files after Mulder's death. She had gotten a few threatening phone calls, calls that had threatened her life, her job, her family. It had become too much, her own paranoia growing with each day, until, finally, she knew she couldn't work on the X-Files until she had more protection from the Bureau and could recover from her own emotional trauma. "Mulder, I know I promised you that I would find your sister. I have received some leads from unknown sources that I'm hesitant to follow- I'm afraid I am being set up. I tried contacting Mr. X, but so far he's shown no interest in helping me. Maybe They found out that he helped us- maybe They already got to him. Fox," she chanced. "If Samantha is alive, I'll do whatever I can to find her for you. She deserves to know your devotion to her, to me, and to the truth. *I* want her to know everything about you, and I want to know her." Dana stopped here, a single tear running down her cheek, dangling from her chin, then falling on the green grass beneath her. "Fox Mulder! Why did you have to jump in front of that bullet? It wasn't your time." *It wasn't your time either, Dana,* she could almost hear him retorting. "You had so much to live for. How could you have given up your sister, your career, the truth-- for me? You always talked about fate, destiny. How could you twist the arm of fate, change the future just because you're so overprotective of me." *'Because you're the guy? Because you're the big macho man'*, she remembered saying to Mulder. *Precisely.* Embarrassed from her outburst, Dana wiped her streaked face. Slowly she stood up, and began to walk back to her car. The sun was shining bright on her back now, and she could imagine every ray of sunlight as Mulder's thoughts- feelings- for her. She felt the tendrils of light creep their way around her back and shoulders and could almost feel Mulder's familiar hand on her shoulder, so much that she had to look to her left to reassure herself that she was only hoping, dreaming a dream that would never become real. Her whole state of mind had been based on reality; for once she allowed her dream to continue. With that thought of Mulder's devotion and care, Dana Scully made her decision. She hadn't been sure until she had *talked* with Mulder. She had visited him so many times, but never had she spoken aloud to him. She reached her car, her mind set on returning to FBI Headquarters, on talking with Skinner, and on returning to the X-Files. She was aware of the danger she was putting herself in, perhaps even her family, but she owed that much to Mulder. And there was no better cause that she could imagine. Sorry, I never told you, All I wanted to say. Now its too late to hold you 'cause you've flown away so far away. Never had I imagined living without your smile. Feeling and knowing you hear me it keeps me alive. Alive. Chorus: And I know you're smiling down on me from Heaven like so many friends we've lost along the way. And I know eventually we'll be together One sweet day. I never showed you, assumed you'd always be there. And I took you're presence for granted but I always cared, and I miss the love we shared. (Repeat Chorus) Although the sun will never shine the same I'll always look to a brighter day Lord, I know, when I lay me down to sleep you will always listen as I pray (Repeat Chorus) Sorry, I never told you, all I wanted to say.... Finished! Nicole-- Chewie94@aol.com Please send in all of your thoughts and criticism. I need to hear from all of you, since this is only part two to my first ever work of fiction! No harm or illegal purposes were intended with the use of One Sweet Day and Sad Eyes, sung by Mariah Carey/Boyz II Men, and Robert John(respectively). I merely thought they fit the story, and all credit is given the songwriters and vocalists. Also, on the tombstone, 'No Regrets' was taken from the original script of the episode *Shadows*, in which Mulder tells Scully what he would want on his tombstone. I thought it appropriate :-)