Title: Liquescent
Author: Susan 
E-mail: susanf34@comcast.net 

Classification: story, alternate universe I guess,
since this is about a *what if* situation
Rating: PG
Keyword: Mulder physical and emotional angst

Spoilers: This scenario takes place during the latter
part of season four. Brief references to various
episodes from the first four seasons of the show.

Archive: No archive without permission.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to each other,
not me.

Author's notes: What if during the course of season
four, Mulder was the one who found out he had cancer
instead of Scully? This story takes a look at how
things might have played out had that been the case...

* I am not a doctor, nor am I a nurse, but I tried to
make the medical information in this story as accurate
as I could with the knowledge I have about cancer. If
I made a mistake with any of the terminology or symptoms,
I apologize to those of you in the medical profession.:)

More author's notes at the end.

You can find the continuation of this story here:
http://possibilities.bravehost.com/Liquescent.html

Summary: There was no need to worry her about something
that was probably nothing...was there?
*************************************************************

Liquescent
by Susan 
~~~~~

FBI Headquarters
Monday, 8:33 am


It started with a drop.

One small drop of blood right on the front of my brand
new white dress shirt.

I was getting dressed for work and had just started
buttoning the bottom button when it fell from my nose
and landed on the left hand edge of my pocket.

At first I thought it was from my allergies as I sometimes
have trouble with nosebleeds during the spring months.

But now it just happened again, exactly a week later, this
time leaving its mark on the front cover of X-file #JM412121.

Luckily, I was able to wipe off the evidence right before
Scully came in, but still it unnerved me.

My allergies hadn't been acting up for days, and I hadn't
been in any altercations over the last week that would've
caused any physical after-effects.

So, what was it then?

"Working on a new case, Mulder?" asked Scully, startling
me from my thoughts as she walked in the door.

She sat down in the chair in front of me and leaned, fo
forward just enough so that she could rest her right
elbow on my desk. "Well, what is it? You look a
little...perplexed," she commented.

"Oh, it's nothing. I was just tidying up a bit, you
know...sorting through some old files..." I replied
awkwardly, quickly picking up the file before she could
see the smudge on it and stuffing it back in the file
cabinet.

"Are you sure you're feeling okay?" she asked.

"What?" I said, pretending to organize the files.

"You never straighten up those files, Mulder. In fact,
I'm surprised you can find anything in there."

She stood up then and walked over by me. "So, what gives?
How come you're interested in organizing things all of a
sudden? Does this have something to do with what Skinner
said to us yesterday?"

I closed the drawer, hiding the evidence even further
from her view, then said, "I don't know...it just seemed
like the thing to do today."

"Need any help?" she asked, standing so close to me our
arms were touching.

"No, I can do it, but there are some shelves over in
the back room that might need a woman's touch."

"I get the distinct impression that you're trying to
get rid of me, Mulder."

I smiled. "Now would I do that, Scully?"

"You do it all the time. It's called *ditching*," she
playfully remarked, lightly punching my arm as she walked
past me.

Watching her go into the back room, I was pleased to
see her in such a carefree mood, but I couldn't help
wondering...

Would not telling her about the two nosebleeds I had be
considered ditching?

~~~~

FBI Headquarters
Friday afternoon
4:09 pm


Four days went by without any more nosebleeds, and I was
feeling pretty good, not just about that, but about the
fact that I wouldn't have to tell Scully about it.

After all, there was no need to worry her about something
that was probably nothing.

Was there?

"Hey Mulder, could I ask you something?"

"What is it, Scully?" I replied, setting my pen down and
giving her my full attention.

"I was wondering if you could help me move some furniture
tomorrow. I can do most of it myself, but I'm going to
need some help with the armoire and some of the bookcases."

"Sure, I can help, but if I do, I expect a pepperoni and
mushroom pizza in return for services rendered."

She smiled. "How about a home-cooked meal instead?"

I smiled back. "Even better."

~~~~

Scully's apartment
Saturday afternoon
4:22 pm


"Geez Scully, what do you have in this thing?" I asked
as the two of us began to push the armoire to the other
side of the room.

"I told you it was heavy."

"Well then, I guess it's a good thing I ate my Wheaties
this morning, huh?" I commented, looking at her out of
the corner of my eye.

Despite the difficulty of the job, I was enjoying spending
time with her like this, and I could tell she was enjoying
it too. It was such a simple thing, but it was also nice
seeing her in something other than a suit. In her jeans,
white t-shirt, and sneakers, she looked younger and happier
and more relaxed than I'd seen her in a long time.

Was it being away from the office that made her look that
way or was she always like this and I just never took the
time to notice?

We gave the armoire another push, moving it a good six
inches this time.

"I hope you like lemon chicken, Mulder."

"Hey, if it's not from a can or a jar, I'll like it."

"Yeah, I've seen the inside of your refrigerator, and
scary doesn't even begin to describe it."

Another push, another six inches.

"Been doing a little investigative work on the side, Scully?"
I teased as I nudged her shoulder and the armoire at the
same time.

"Maybe," she answered, playfully nudging me back.

And so it went, the two of us talking and pushing, pushing
and talking until the entire room was rearranged.

"This went a lot faster with you helping me. Thanks, Mulder."

"I'm glad I could help," I said, sitting down on the couch.

And I *was* glad about it.

In the four years that we've been working together, she's only
asked me for help with something outside the office two other
times, and those times weren't nearly as big as moving furniture
*and* sharing a home-cooked meal.

"I'm going to go check on the chicken. Just make yourself
at home, and I'll be right back with something for us to
drink. Is lemonade okay?"

"Lemonade's fine."

'And so is being here with you like this, Scully,' I thought
to myself as I watched her walk out to the kitchen.

~~~~~

Mulder's apartment
Sunday morning
1:45 am


I was dreaming.

About lemon chicken and white wine and Scully giggling
at one of my jokes over dinner.

I was dreaming.

About being pinned underneath a cold wire net, black
oil dripping on my face and feeling completely helpless.

I was dreaming.

About Samantha and cloth hearts and John Lee Roche
taunting me with promises of the truth.

I was dreaming.

About a relentless pounding in my head and drops of blood
trickling from my nose onto my shirt and down my legs.

And then I was coughing, and I was sitting up in bed, my
heart racing and my sweat soaked t-shirt clinging to my
skin.

And I was running to the bathroom, the wonderful dinner
Scully had served me the night before forcing its way up
out of my stomach and tumbling into the toilet.

And blood.

There was blood.

Not a single drop this time, but a thin stream flowing
over my lips and down my chin, dripping on the edge of
the toilet seat.

What the hell was happening to me?

~~~~

9:00 am


When I woke up, every muscle and every joint in my body
ached.

Moving all that heavy furniture yesterday afternoon and
spending an hour on the floor hunched over the toilet had
taken its toll on my body, not to mention the fact that
when I finally did go back to bed, I ended up sleeping in
a sitting position.

Checking my sheets and pillow for blood and then my face,
I was relieved to find none, but that didn't change the
fact that something wasn't right.

I just didn't want to face it.

Not yet.

~~~~

Monday morning
8:45 am


"Mulder, it's me. Where are you? We're supposed to
have that 9:00 meeting with Skinner."

"I'm at home."

"Still? What's wrong?"

"Look, I know I should've called you earlier, but I don't
think I'll be coming in to the office today, Scully."

"Are you sick, Mulder?" she asked, her voice etched with
concern.

"I think I might have the flu," I lied, turning my head
away from the receiver as I was hit with a wave of nausea.

"Want me to come over?" she offered.

"I'll be okay," I answered, wiping my damp forehead with
the palm of my hand.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her level of concern clearly
rising.

"Yeah, I just need to lay low for today," I said, hoping
that what I was saying was true.

"Well...alright..." she said reluctantly. "Get some rest
and drink plenty of fluids, and don't worry about the
meeting with Skinner. I'll take care of everything."

"Thanks, Scully. I owe you one."

"You owe me a lot more than one," she remarked.

I pictured her sitting at my desk, her right eyebrow
raised, a slight smile on her face, and I couldn't help
but smile myself.

"You're right, I do," I said quietly.

She paused a moment, no doubt considering what I said,
then said, "I'll call you again after the meeting and
let you know how it went, okay?"

"Okay."

And then we both hung up, neither of us saying goodbye,
just like always.

Setting the phone down on the nightstand, I laid my head
back against the pillow and closed my eyes.

Now if I could just get the room to stop spinning...

~~~~

10:28 am


I was dreaming.

About the way the sun shone on Scully's hair as we sat
on a park bench and talked about families and motherhood.

I was dreaming.

About yellow rain and El Chupacabra and bodies covered
with green fungus.

I was dreaming.

About a bin of discarded body parts and a picnic cooler
full of cancerous tumors.

I was dreaming.

About the way Leonard Betts looked at me as if he knew.

He knew. Somehow he knew...

And then I was bolting out of bed and running for the
bathroom where the mirror was.

Where the blood was.

This time, just two small drops, one beneath each nostril.

Quickly turning on the faucet, I doused my face with water
and clawed at my skin, trying to make it all go away, but
what I knew, what I felt in my gut, couldn't be washed down
the drain no matter how hard I scrubbed, and it couldn't
be ignored.

Not anymore.

Just then the phone rang. I was sure it was Scully, and
although I didn't want to talk with her right now, I knew
that if I didn't answer the phone she'd start worrying,
and then she'd probably come over here.

And I didn't want that.

Grabbing the towel from the rack, I quickly wiped off my
face and hurried back into the bedroom so I could pick
up the phone.

"Mulder."

"Mulder, it's me. It took you a while to answer. Were
you sleeping?"

I hated lying to her, but I did it anyway. "Yeah, I was."

"I'm sorry, but I just wanted to let you know that the
meeting with Skinner went off without a hitch. He signed
off on all three of our reports *and* all of our travel
expenses," she said proudly.

"Maybe I should stay out of the office more often," I said
quietly as I walked back into the bathroom and looked at
myself in the mirror.

The blood that was on my face just moments ago was gone
now, but the memory of it certainly wasn't.

"No, I don't think so, Mulder. Things are better when
you're here," she said, and I could tell by the tone of
her voice that she really meant it. "So, how are you
feeling? Any better?"

"A little," I lied again, leaning even closer to the mirror
and looking at the dark shadows underneath my eyes.

"Well, right now lots of liquids and lots of rest are the
two best things for you."

"I know," I agreed, though right now the best thing for
me would be to get to a doctor.

"You sound kind of tired so I'm going to let you go now,
but if you need anything, call me."

"Okay."

"I mean it, Mulder. If there's anything I can do for you
or get for you, just let me know."

"I will."

"I'll check in with you again right before I leave the
office, and if you're feeling up to it then, I'll stop
by your apartment on my way home."

"I'd like that," I replied.

And this time I wasn't lying.

~~~~

12:30 pm


Two hours after Scully's phone call, I found myself in
Dr. Engle's office.

He had been my doctor for the last three years and although
I felt comfortable with him, I usually only saw him for my
annual physicals.

Thanks to another patient's last minute cancellation, the
receptionist had been able to get me in to see him today,
and so now here I was sitting in an overstuffed green
chair pretending to read an article in a two year old
issue of Sports Illustrated and listening to some cheesy
70's music wafting through the speakers above my head.

I've spent a lot of time waiting in doctors' offices over
the years, but this was worse than all of those other times
combined.

Because I was waiting for something I already knew.

~~~~

Crowley Park
3:03 pm


During the spring of my senior year at Oxford, I remember
my mother calling me on the phone and telling me that her
sister, my Aunt Rachel, had just been diagnosed with cancer.

She told me the doctors had found a cancerous tumor the
size of a walnut lodged inside the left side of her brain
and that it was at such an advanced stage that even with
treatment, her chances of living beyond three months time
were very slim.

I remember listening to the barely controlled hitch in her
voice as she tried to keep herself together and how my dad
had to take the phone from her and finish the conversation
with me.

And now as I sit here on a rusted park bench at a park
I don't even remember driving to, I can't stop thinking
about how I'm ever going to explain this to Scully.

*I'm so sorry I have to tell you this, Mr. Mulder.*

Will my voice have the same barely controlled hitch in it
as my mother's did all those years ago?

*What I'm seeing on these x-rays is some sort of small
mass. See? Right here above your nasal cavity.*

Or will I somehow be able to find the strength to say the
right words the moment I look into her eyes?

*You're going to need to see an oncologist for more tests,
and you need to do it as soon as possible.*

A small mass.

More tests.

An oncologist.

Cancer.

Shit.

~~~~

Mulder's apartment
3:38 pm


I was numb.

Or maybe I was in shock, I don't know.

In any case, I was somehow able to make it back to my
apartment, even though I hadn't a clue as to how I got
here.

The moment I walked through the door, I headed right
to the bedroom, stripped off all my clothes except for
my boxers and climbed into bed.

The sheets felt cool against my skin, the pillows smooth
against my cheek, and within a matter of seconds I felt
myself drifting off to sleep.

~~~~

5:08 pm


"Mulder."

"Mulder...wake up."

"Come on, wake up, Mulder. Open your eyes."

"Hmmm?" I mumbled, rolling over onto my back and struggling
to lift my eyelids.

"It's Scully," she said as she gently placed the palm of
her hand on my forehead. Her touch was tender, and I
closed my eyes again, savoring it.

"You didn't answer your phone. I was worried about you,"
she stated, pressing both hands on the sides of my neck,
feeling for swollen glands, I guess.

"I turned it off so I could get some rest," I said, still
a bit groggy.

Satisfied with what she didn't feel there, she moved her
right hand down to my arm, holding onto my wrist and
checking my pulse.

Despite the fact that I was lying down and hadn't moved
for apparently quite some time, I could feel my cheeks
getting warmer and my pulse quickening beneath her
fingertips.

Was there any blood under my nose? On my pillow?

Could she see the brochures sticking out of my jacket
pocket that Dr. Engle had given me? The business card
with the oncologist's name on it?

Could she tell just by looking at me that I was keeping
something from her?

"Mulder, your pulse is racing. Are you okay?" she asked,
her voice tight with worry.

"I've been better," I replied with a weak smile.

"Do you feel nauseous, dizzy?"

"No."

"Have you eaten anything since I last talked to you on
the phone?"

"No."

"Had anything to drink?"

"Just a little water."

"Well, you need to keep your body hydrated. I'm going to
go get you a glass of water."

"Okay," I said, relieved that I'd have a moment to gather
my composure before she came back.

A few minutes later, she walked back into my room carrying
a glass of water with some ice in it and a bottle of aspirin.
"I thought you might need some aspirin too. Do you?" she
asked, waiting for me to sit up before she handed me the
water.

"Just set them over there for now," I said, gesturing to
the nightstand.

Setting the bottle down, she looked at me, a smile crossing
her face.

"What? What is it?" I asked, taking a quick drink of water.

"It's you, Mulder. I'm not used to seeing you like this."

I was confused. "Like what?"

"Sick in bed with something as simple as the flu. I mean,
usually when I'm at your bedside, it's because you've been
hurt."

She was right. I very rarely got sick, which was one of
the reasons why I was having such a hard time accepting
what Dr. Engle had told me this afternoon.

"I know this is going to sound strange, but it's actually
kind of nice that you've only got the flu as opposed to
your usual gun shot wounds and retro-viruses," she remarked,
her eyebrow slightly rising, her eyes sparkling.

She didn't often show her sense of humor to me, but when
she did, it was truly a gift to be cherished.

And I did cherish it, just as I cherished her trust and
respect and concern for me.

And her honesty.

Which is why I needed to stop lying to her and to myself
and face the truth.

Reaching over and taking her hand in mine, I said, "Sit
down, Scully."

She squeezed my hand briefly and released it, then sat
down on the edge of my bed. "What is it, Mulder?" she
asked, tenderly looking at me. "Did you want me to fix
you something to eat? I thought you'd want to get some
more rest, but I can stay a little longer if..."

"No, that's not what I want," I said, cutting her off.
"I mean...I want you to stay, but I don't need you to
fix me anything to eat... or get me anything to drink,"
I said, stumbling over my words.

"Well, then what is it? You look like there's something
you want to say," she said as she tilted her head to the
side and wrinkled her forehead.

"I'm not sick because of the flu," I blurted out, flopping
my head back against the pillow and closing my eyes so I
wouldn't have to look in her eyes.

"What do you mean? You have all the symptoms," she said,
the creases in her forehead deepening.

I opened my eyes, but I still couldn't look directly at her,
instead opting for a loose thread on the hem of my sheet.
"I went to see my doctor this afternoon," I said, picking
at the thin white strand.

"Why didn't you tell me you were sick enough to see a
doctor? I could've driven you," she said, her voice
filled with both anger and concern.

"Because I had to go alone...and because I didn't want to
have to tell you," I said so softly I could barely hear
my own voice.

"Tell me what? What's going on? What's wrong with you?"
she demanded, putting her hand under my chin and tilting
my head up so I had to look at her.

And that's when I felt it.

Warm and wet and relentless.

Blood.

A steady red stream rolling over my lip, down my chin,
and onto Scully's fingers.

"You're bleeding, Mulder," she said, her eyes wide with
panic.

Quickly turning away from her, I jumped out of bed and
hurried to the bathroom, rushing by my desk so fast, I
knocked my jacket onto the floor.

Not stopping to pick it up, I ran to the sink and turned
on the faucet. The water was cold and clear, my blood
dark and thick, and for the next several minutes I stood
there, helpless, watching as the two liquids merged into
one, then disappeared down the drain.

The next thing I knew Scully was wrapping a towel around
my bare shoulders and leading me back to the bedroom.
Helping me onto the bed, she pulled the covers up over
my legs, then placed one of the brochures that Dr. Engle
had given me on my lap.

All without saying a word.

I looked down at where my jacket had fallen on the floor,
the other brochures scattered beside it, and then I looked
up at her, her eyes misty, her cheeks flushed.

My own eyes blurry now too, I opened my mouth to say
something, anything, but the words just wouldn't come.

And so I did the only thing I could do.

I squeezed her hand.

She squeezed back.

~~~~

5:45 pm


I don't know how long the two of us sat there on the bed.
I don't know how long we gripped each other's hands or
how many tears we silently shed.

But I do know this.

I will not give up.

No matter what the oncologist tells me, no matter how
serious my condition is, I will fight it.

And I will win.

~~~~

Dr. Jensen's office
Wednesday morning
9:30 am


"You okay, Mulder?"

"I just want to get this over with," I said, nervously
jiggling my right leg up and down.

"Everything will be fine," she said quietly, placing her
hand on top of mine to steady it.

I wanted to believe her.

I wanted to believe that this was all a big mistake,
that what I saw on those x-rays at Dr. Engle's office
was something else, but in my heart, in my gut, I knew
that it was cancer.

Nearly twenty years ago, my Aunt Rachel had been taken
by it, quickly and painfully, and even longer ago my
great-grandmother, her breast cancer finally taking her
after three years of fighting it.

What would my fate be?

~~~~

Crowley Park
12:01 pm


Stage IIA nasopharyngeal cancer.

According to Dr. Jensen, that's what has invaded my body,
spreading from my nasopharynx to the middle part of my
throat and up into my nasal cavity.

Expect more nosebleeds.

Expect more headaches.

Expect your throat to hurt more.

Expect to have trouble hearing on occasion.

In other words, expect to feel like shit.

Of course, he didn't say that, but he might as well have,
and that doesn't even begin to cover what radiation and
chemotherapy will do to me.

Once that starts, I'll have a whole new set of problems.

I had to get out of this car, and I had to do it now.

Taking a sharp turn into the parking lot of the same park
I had wandered into after seeing Dr. Engle on Monday, I
stopped the car and got out, walking as fast as I could.

To where, I didn't know.

"Mulder, what are you doing?" asked Scully, her voice
sounding as if she were at the end of a tunnel.

Was I already having trouble hearing or was I walking so
fast that I had already put several yards between us?

"Mulder, stop!" she shouted, her muffled voice ringing
in my ears.

But I didn't want to stop, and I certainly didn't want
to talk about things.

Not now.

"You can't run away from this, Mulder!" she shouted. "And
you can't run away from me," she added, the wind carrying
the hurt and anger in her voice directly to my heart.

"Just watch me," I said to myself.

And I kept on walking.

~~~~

12:30 pm


I got my first bloody nose when I was twelve.

One day when I was walking home from school, Stevie
Parker, the seventh grade bully who lived down the
street from us started teasing me about what happened
to Samantha, and I completely lost it.

Even though I was at least four inches shorter than him,
I pounded on him for a good ten minutes before both our
mothers finally came running outside to separate us.

When all was said and done, I ended up with swollen
knuckles, a black eye, and one hell of a bloody nose,
but it was worth it because I had stood up for both my
sister and myself and fought for something I strongly
believed in.

And despite the way I was feeling now, I knew that somehow,
some way I'd find the strength inside of me to fight this
too.

I had to.

Suddenly realizing that I had walked all the way over to
the other side of the park where the hiking trail began,
I stopped and looked up at all the trees in front of me.
Walking in among them where it was darker and cooler and
quieter was just what I needed right now, and so I started
to move forward again, not thinking of anyone or anything
else but being surrounded by the serenity of the woods.

"Mind if I join you?" asked Scully, walking up behind me
and lightly touching my arm.

"No, but I should warn you that I'm not going to be very
good company," I replied, noting the fact that she hadn't
taken her hand off of me yet.

"I'm not feeling very talkative myself right now," she
said, slipping her hand into mine.

"Okay then," I said quietly as the two of us started down
the trail.

~~~~

About ten minutes into our walk, it was Scully who finally
broke the silence between us. "Mulder, you're the strongest
person I know," she said, her eyes straight ahead.

Funny, I wasn't feeling very strong at the moment.

"And you will get through this," she added, still looking
ahead, still walking.

But how?

"I want to keep working, Scully. I need to," I stated
firmly, looking off in the distance up at two squirrels
chasing each other on the trunk of a tree.

"I know you do," she said, her tone one of understanding.

And she did understand, knowing all too well about what
it was like being sick and feeling powerless.

I remember two years ago after she had recovered from her
abduction how she had insisted that I not treat her
differently or make allowances for her when she returned
to work.

At the time, it was difficult for me, not wanting her
to do anything dangerous, afraid that she'd get hurt,
afraid that I was going to somehow lose her again, but
eventually I stopped worrying so much and simply let
her do her job.

Which is exactly what I want her to do for me now. Let
me do what I have to do, let me be who I am.

"I think I'd like to go home now," I said, a sudden wave
of tiredness washing over me.

"I'm feeling kind of worn out myself," she admitted.

"I'll take you back to my place so you can pick up your
car, and then I think I'm gonna take the rest of the
day off instead of going back in to the office."

"I think that's a good idea, Mulder, especially since
you'll need to be all rested up for work tomorrow," she
said, a slight smile crossing her face as she reassuringly
brushed her hand across the top of mine.

"Tomorrow..." I said, closing my eyes and relishing the
feel of the cool wind blowing across my face.

~~~~

Mulder's apartment
2:15 pm


I was dreaming.

About exploding parasites and infectious spores and running
through the woods, hoping I'd get to Scully in time.

I was dreaming.

About fetishes and severed fingers and the way Scully cried
in my arms in Donnie Pfaster's living room.

I was dreaming.

About salty water and wrinkles and drowning in the Norwegian
Sea.

About drowning in my own blood and never getting the chance
to finish my work.

About having my life taken away just when I was finally
beginning to find it.

And then I was bolting from the bed and running to the
bathroom, the bowl of cereal I had for breakfast scratching
its way up into my throat and forcefully pushing itself out
of my mouth and onto the bottom of the sink.

Leaning my forearms on the edge of sink for support, I
splashed some cold water on my face and waited to be hit
with another round of vomiting.

But it never came, a sharp pain hitting me right between
my eyes instead and dropping me to the floor like a sack
of potatoes.

The last thing I remember was the slap of the cold hard
tile against my cheek.

~~~~

3:00 pm


When I opened my eyes, the pain was gone.

The sharp cutting pain that had pressed between my eyes
and the nausea I felt before were gone.

And for a moment, I had my old life back.

But then I looked around me and saw where I was, lying
on the bathroom floor, my face not two inches from the
base of the toilet.

So much for my old life.

Picking myself up off the floor, I turned on the shower,
got undressed and climbed inside, eager to wash off all
the germs I'm sure I accumulated while lying on the floor.

Tilting my head back and sticking my face under the nozzle,
I immediately stepped backwards, protectively cupping my
hand around my cheek. My cheekbone hurt and was much more
sensitive to the touch than usual, probably from when I
fell to the floor earlier.

Was the skin also bruised? And if it was, what would Scully
say when she saw it?

Dr. Jensen had told me to expect more severe headaches,
but he didn't tell me about the possibility of blackouts
and bruises.

Should I call his office and tell him what happened or
should I just chalk it up to exhaustion and stress?

He did give me a book and some informational packets to
read about what to expect, but I was feeling much too
edgy to sit down and try to read any of them now.

And I definitely didn't want to call Scully and tell
her what happened.

Or did I?

Getting out of the shower, I got dressed and went out
into the living room, then picked up the phone and held
my finger above the familiar speed dial #1 button.

No.

If I'm going to deal with this, I don't want to drag
Scully down with me.

Setting the phone back down on the coffee table, I put
my shoes on, grabbed my jacket from the back of the
chair, and headed out the door to the one place that
always made me feel better.

My office.

~~~~

FBI Headquarters
4:11 pm


The moment I stepped into the office, I was immediately
struck by how different it felt to me. Of course, it
was the same old office with the same messy desk and the
same squeaky chair I had sat in yesterday, but still there
was something about it that seemed different.

Or maybe it was me who was different.

Oh, that's right, I forgot. I *am* different.

I'm the guy who was diagnosed with cancer today.

Walking over behind my desk, I looked up at the "I Want
to Believe' poster on the wall. Such a simple picture
with a simple message, and yet it has been my lifeline
more times than I can count.

Every time when I've felt like my life's spiraling out
of control, it's been here for me, its words giving me
the inner strength and inspiration I need to carry on.

And now as I run my fingers across its glossy surface yet
again, I can only hope that it will give me the strength
I need this time.

~~~~

6:20 pm


"Mulder, it's me."

"Yeah."

"Where are you? I tried your apartment, and you didn't
answer." She paused a moment, then softly said, "I was
worried."

"I'm at the office," I answered, resisting the urge to
keep my whereabouts a secret from her.

"The office? What are you doing there? I thought you
were tired."

Well, it's like this. I did fall asleep for awhile, but
then when I woke up, I was nauseous and I threw up in
the sink. Shortly after that I passed out from a searing
headache, landing on the bathroom floor right next to the
toilet and bruising my face in the process.

Knowing that she would immediately want to come here if
I told her that, I gave her the short version instead.
"I didn't feel like staying in my apartment so I thought
I'd come here and get some work done."

"Your health is more important than work, Mulder," she
stated, her tone of voice low and serious.

Not to me it isn't. Not now. Work is what I know. Work
is what keeps me going. Work doesn't scare the hell out
of me like this disease does.

"Mulder...did you hear what I said?"

"I heard you, and I'm fine, Scully. Like I told you before,
I need to keep working, and you better than anyone should
understand why."

Silence.

"Look, I'm not going to stay here much longer, and when I
get home I'll have something to eat and then go straight
to bed," I said, partly to appease her and partly because
I actually was feeling tired again.

"Well..." she said hesitantly.

"I just want to get a few more things done so things will
be in order tomorrow when we come in."

Tomorrow.

My last day in the office before my first day of radiation
therapy.

Dr. Jensen had wanted to start treatment tomorrow, but I
had talked him into giving me another day, a day to get
things in order, a day to process what was about to happen
to me.

A day that was my own.

"I'm going to call you again in a couple hours, Mulder,
and make sure you're at home, and if you're not, I'm
coming up there and driving you home myself," she said
in her I'm-your-partner-so-you'd-better-listen-to-me
voice.

"I'll be at home in bed in my jammies by 8:30. Is that
okay with you, *Mom*?" I said, throwing out a little
humor to diffuse the situation.

I could hear her on the other end of the receiver, trying
to stifle a laugh, and for the first time today, I let
myself smile.

"I'll call you at 8:30 then," she said, her composure
quickly back in tact.

"Okay," I said, pressing the off button and looking up
at the poster again.

God, I wanted to believe.

If only I could.

~~~~


Mulder's apartment
Thursday morning
7:00 am

I was awakened by the harsh sound of my alarm clock, its
annoying buzz loud, but somewhat muffled in my ears.
Slamming my hand down on top of it, I looked around the
room and tried to get my bearings.

It seemed like every morning was like this now, waking
up disoriented, my ears feeling like they've been stuffed
with cotton, my nose plugged, and my throat dry.

In my old life, my pre-cancer days, I used to wake up
easily, jump out of bed or off my couch, whichever one
I had fallen asleep on, take a shower and eat breakfast,
all within the span of twenty minutes.

But not anymore.

Over the past week and a half, my mornings have become
long drawn out affairs, my body needing time to adjust
and prepare itself for the day.

Sitting up, I swung my legs over the side of the bed
and just sat there hunched over, the heat from the
ventilation duct on the ceiling lightly blowing down
over my bare back.

If this is what I felt like now, what would my mornings
be like once I started getting radiation treatments and
chemotherapy?

~~~~

FBI Headquarters
9:00 am


When I got to the office, Scully was already there.

In my old life, my pre-cancer days, I was always the
first one there, getting half a day's work done by 8:00
a.m., but now it was Scully who got there first.

Part of me liked the fact that I could come to the office
in the morning and she'd already be here, ready to greet
me with one of those all too rare smiles of hers.

But another part of me resented it.

"Good morning, Mulder. You ready to get some work done
today?" she asked, wearing one of those rare smiles I
was just talking about.

"As ready as I'll ever be. So, what have you got planned
for me today, Scully? It looks like you've already been
getting some things done yourself," I commented, walking
over to my desk and sitting down.

"I have. I was just putting the finishing touches on
our report about what happened out in California with
that whole El Chupacabra business, and I got half of
the Leonard Betts case written up," she replied.

Leonard Betts.

The man who ate cancerous tumors. The man who could
regrow his body parts. The man who could just look at
someone and tell whether or not they had cancer.

The man who looked at me and knew.

At the sound of his name, a thin sheen of sweat broke
out on my forehead, and my pulse instantly quickened.
"Would you mind finishing up that report yourself,
Scully?" I asked, squeezing the pencil in my right
hand so tightly I'm surprised I didn't snap it in half.

"Ah...I just remembered that I need to check something
out upstairs in the lab," I said, quickly standing up
and heading towards the door. "Um...I'll be back in a
few minutes, okay."

And then I left, my throat dry as sandpaper and my heart
now wildly thumping in my chest.

"Mulder," she called from the doorway, but I kept on
walking just like I had done yesterday at the park.

How many times was I going to keep doing this to her?
To myself?

I thought I needed to be at work today, to be in a
familiar place, to spend time with my partner and keep
things the way they've always been.

But I was wrong.

I couldn't do this. I couldn't pretend that today was
just another day at the office, and I couldn't pretend
that I was the same person anymore.

Because I wasn't.

And regardless of what happens during the next two weeks
of treatments, I'll never be the same again.

~~~~

Fifteen minutes later


"Where'd you go, Mulder? You okay?" asked Scully before
I could even get both feet in the door.

"Um...I was just checking on something up at the fingerprint
lab that I forgot to do yesterday," I lied.

From the expression on her face, it was obvious she knew I
was lying, but for some reason she let it slide.

This time.

"So, you took care of everything then?"

"For now," I said quietly.

But what about a half hour from now? Two hours from now?
What's going to happen then?

Will she say something else that'll send me running from
the room with another lame explanation or will I put on
my strong-guy face yet again and tough things out for the
rest of the day?

Walking over to my desk, I sat down and leaned forward
on my elbows, resting my chin in my hands. "I don't
know if I can do this, Scully," I admitted, closing my
eyes and letting out an exasperated sigh.

Almost instantly she was at my side, putting her hand on
my shoulder. "I told you before that you're the strongest
person I know...and I meant it. You *will* get through
this, Mulder, just like you've gotten through all the
other difficult things in your life."

Gently pushing against my shoulder, she turned me in the
chair so I was directly facing her. Then she bent down
closer to my face and said, "I want to help you in any
way I can, but I can't do that if you're not honest with
me, Mulder. If you hide the truth, if you keep what you're
feeling to yourself, you're working against me...and
then we both lose."

Seeing the compassion in her eyes, hearing the concern in
her voice, I knew that she was right. I *had* been working
against her and myself.

And it was time for me to stop.

Putting my arms around her waist and holding on for dear
life, I rested my head on her hip and finally made myself
say out loud what I'd so carefully hidden inside for the
last few weeks.

"I'm afraid."

~~~~

9:30 am


I hated feeling so scared and uncertain. I hated not
being able to keep my emotions under control, and I
hated that I needed to hold onto Scully this way.

But most of all, I hated myself for allowing myself to
be so vulnerable.

After all, I've always been the strong one.

The guy who's lived through black oil, burning boxcars,
gunshot wounds, and being attacked by a beast-woman. The
guy who's been cut, slimed, cocooned by killer bugs, and
almost eaten by an alligator.

The go-to guy.

The guy who will fight for what's right no matter how
much it costs him.

Yeah, that's me alright. Mr. Strong Man.

So how come I can't seem to unwrap my arms from around my
partner's waist?

"I'm scared too," whispered Scully, kissing the top of my
head, then resting her chin there the same way I had done
with her before. "But you can fight this, Mulder...and
you can win."

I remembered saying almost the exact same words to myself
a few days ago when I first told her about the cancer.

Now I just had to convince myself that it could be done.

~~~~

11:30 am


After the intensity of emotions we shared earlier, the
rest of the morning was easier. Since we didn't have
any current cases to work on, it gave us time to get
some unfinished paperwork in order and some things
organized in the back room of the office.

"Now why would you keep something like this, Mulder?
It has absolutely nothing to do with any of these
x-files," she said, holding up a small rock she'd
found in one of the drawers.

"I beg to differ, Scully. This is a very special
rock," I said, taking it from her hand and holding
it up to the light.

"Oh, and why is that?" she asked, her right eyebrow
raising.

"Don't you recognize it?"

"Should I?"

"It's from our first case in Oregon," I replied, running
my thumb across its rough surface. "I wanted to remember
what I saw that night out in the woods with Billy Miles
so I picked it up off the ground and stuffed it in my
jacket pocket."

She looked at me, her eyes remembering too, then she took
it out of my hand and ran her thumb across it just like
I had done.

"Then I guess it *is* a special rock," she said quietly.
"Maybe we should put it somewhere where we can see it
instead of sticking it back in the drawer," she suggested,
looking around the room for a more suitable place.

Walking behind my desk, she set it down on top of the
file cabinet, the place where all our case files were,
the place that chronicled the past four years of our
lives.

"I think this is a good spot for it, don't you?" she
asked, her eyes crinkling around the edges as a smile
crossed her face.

Lightly brushing my fingers over the back of her hand,
I replied, "I think it's perfect."

~~~~

Dr. Madison's office
2:05 pm


Another doctor's office. A radiation oncologist this
time.

It was his job, along with the chemo-therapist and Dr.
Jensen to determine the best treatment plan for my cancer,
and then explain it to me.

According to the size, shape, and location of my tumor,
the portal they would mainly be focusing on is the upper
part of my nasopharynx.

Starting tomorrow for the next two weeks, I would follow
a schedule of five days of radiation treatment, two days
off. During that same two-week period, I would also be
receiving chemotherapy intravenously, once every four days.

"Do you have any questions about what we've explained
to you, Mr. Mulder?" asked Dr. Madison, looking at me
with the same expression he probably had on his face
when he asked all his other cancer patients the same
question.

Yeah doc, I have a question.

When can I have my life back?

~~~~

3:15 pm


"You were awfully quiet before, Mulder," said Scully,
looking over at me as she turned onto my street. "Are
you sure you understood everything the doctors explained
to you? You know what's going to happen tomorrow during
your first radiation treatment?"

Unfortunately, I understood every word of it. That doesn't
mean I accepted it though.

"I'm just trying to process it all, you know," I quietly
answered, tapping my fingers on the edge of the window.

"I know. It's a lot to take in, but I have faith that
you'll be strong enough to get through it." She pulled
up along the curb in front of my building and stopped
the car. "Want me to come up with you for awhile?"

As much as I enjoyed being with her, as much as I drew
strength from her, I really needed to be by myself for
awhile. "I think I'd like to be alone right now, Scully,"
I replied, looking down at my feet instead of at her.

"I understand," she said reassuringly although I could
tell by the tone of her voice that she was disappointed.

"I'll call you later though...if that's alright," I said,
my fingers fumbling with the door handle.

In my old life, my pre-cancer days, we always shared a
certain degree of awkwardness when it came to talking
about personal things, but now things seemed even more
awkward between us.

We were close, and yet we weren't. We were restrained,
and yet we weren't. We were more than partners, and
yet we weren't.

We'd let each other in, and then we'd close the door,
which is what I was doing with her right now.

But how can I leave the door to my feelings open when
I don't even know what they are?

Touching her cheek, her soft smooth cheek, I looked at
her one last time, opened the door, and said, "It's just
too hard to be with you right now, Scully."

Then before she could say anything or try to stop me, I
quickly climbed out of the car and hurried up the steps
to my apartment building.

And I didn't look back.

~~~~

Mulder's apartment
4:41 pm


Dry mouth. Hair loss. Headaches. Fatigue. Nausea. Loss
of taste.

Those were the side effects I could possibly experience
once I started radiation. I've actually dealt with most
of them before at one time or another, but I've never
had to worry about losing my hair before.

Though Dr. Madison told me that hair loss wasn't one of
the more common side effects with radiation, I still
couldn't help wondering if I would be the exception to
the rule.

Would there be more hair on my brush when I combed my
hair in the morning? Would the drain at the bottom of my
shower be filled with hair every time I took a shower?

And what would Scully think of me, my hair thinning or
maybe even coming out in clumps?

No, I didn't want to think about it, and besides I
probably wouldn't really start losing any hair anyway
until I started the chemotherapy in another four days.

But once I did start it, would I have to buy a wig or
would it be easier just to have my whole head shaved?

Walking into the bathroom, I looked at myself in the
mirror and tried to imagine what I would look like
as a bald man in his 30's. Michael Jordan was bald
and in his 30's, and look at how people treated him.

Then again, he was bald because he wanted to be, not
because he had to be.

Leaning closer to the mirror, I looked at the lines Dr.
Madison had drawn on my face with indelible ink to mark
the portal for the radiation I'd be receiving. Although
the lines were light purple, they were dark enough for
me to see every one of them.

With my index finger I began to trace around each one
of them...a circle on the bridge of my nose, a tiny
rectangle between my eyes, an oblong blob between my
eyebrows.

Faster and faster, my finger circled around each purple
line, and blurrier and blurrier my vision became as my
eyes filled with tears, and within seconds my nose had
joined in on the act too, letting loose the first drops
of blood I'd seen in three days.

Shit.

Blindly yanking the towel off the rack with my right hand,
I turned up the faucet with my left hand and doused my
face with water, accidentally splashing a combination of
water and blood on the front of my shirt in the process.

Damn it, and I just bought this shirt too.

Quickly slipping it up over my head, I hurled it into the
bathtub and shoved a wad of tissues into my nose, then sat
down on top of the closed toilet seat lid.

This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair at all...

Just then the phone rang.

Of course, it was Scully, and of course, I would have to
answer it or she'd be worried about me, and so of course,
I did, running from the bathroom with no shirt on and a
handful of bloody tissues pressed against my nose.

"Yeah Scully, what is it?" I said, my plugged nose making
my voice sound strange.

"You okay, Mulder? You sound funny."

"How do you think I am?" I snapped.

"What's wrong?"

"This isn't a good time, Scully," I said gruffly, trying
to deal with the phone and the tissues and the fact that
a thin stream of blood was now dribbling down my chin.

"Look Scully, I have to go," I said abruptly.

And then I hung up, dropping the phone on the couch and
running to the bathroom as fast as I could before the
blood dripped onto the carpeting.

Of course, I knew she'd call back shortly, her voice in
that calm-panic mode she's perfected since we've been
partners.

And then of course, I would reassure her that everything
was just fine and dandy when in fact, that couldn't be
further from the truth.

She would ask me a second time if I was alright, and I
would reply in my Mr. Strong Man voice that I was doing
just great, never been better.

And she would see right through my lie and be at my front
door within twenty minutes.

That's how it worked with us.

That's how it worked in my old life, my pre-cancer days,
and that's how it would work now.

Except now there's so much more at stake.

And so much more to lose.

~~~~

Just as I knew she would, she was knocking at my door
about twenty minutes later.

Nineteen minutes later to be exact.

"Mulder, it's me. Open the door."

Looking at myself in the mirror one last time, I quickly
dumped the bloody towel in the hamper and hid all my
bloody tissues at the bottom of the wastebasket beneath
the other trash that was already in there. Then I hurried
out to the door and opened it before she could use her
key.

"What's going on, Mulder? You hung up on me, and then
when I called you a second time, you lied to me," she
said in a shaky voice. She moved closer to me and looked
up at me, invading my personal space in a way she'd never
done before.

I had to lie to you, Scully. I can't let you see me weak
like this. I already lost it in front of you at the office,
but I can't let that happen again. I thought I could let
you share my pain, but I can't. I just can't.

I wanted to look into her eyes and say all those things,
to tell her how I really felt, but I couldn't.

And so I looked down at my feet instead.

"Damn it, Mulder. Stop it. Stop trying to be so strong
around me," she said, grabbing my chin and tilting my
head up so I had to look at her. "I know how hard this
is for you, you told me yourself that you're afraid, but
keeping things from me is only going to make it worse."

Hearing her say those words to me, *her* of all people
telling me not to keep things to myself, I felt an
unexpected rush of anger, and then suddenly something
inside of me snapped.

"Oh, and how is that, Scully? How is what I'm doing
any different from what you do to me all the time?" I
asked, roughly pushing her hand off my chin and backing
away from her.

"I'm so goddamned sick and tired of hearing you say 'I'm
fine' every time you're hurt or upset. Well, now it's
my turn to say 'I'm fine'," I said angrily, walking right
past her and throwing open the door.

"Mulder...I...I don't...know what to say," she stuttered,
her mouth dropping open in confusion.

"Don't say anything. Just leave," I heard myself say in
a voice I didn't recognize. "Just get out of here, Scully,
and leave me alone."

Without taking her eyes off of me, she moved hesitantly
towards the door. "You don't mean that, Mulder," she
said, her voice trembling now.

I hated the way I felt, the way I sounded, the way she
was looking at me, but I had to get her out of here. I
had to send her away.

"Please go," I said so softly I could barely hear the
words myself.

Standing in the doorway, she wiped the moisture from
her eyes and opened her mouth to say something, but
all that came out was silence.

And then she left, softly closing the door behind her.

~~~~

A.G. Holton Cancer Center
Friday 8:55 am


Scully sat beside me on the couch in the waiting room,
her hand touching mine as I rested it on my leg.

It was as if last night never happened.

Of course, we both knew differently, but for now we
were choosing to put it behind us, which was just as
well since there were other things to think about at
the moment.

In just a few short minutes, I would receive my first
round of radiation, and then I'd be sent home to carry
on with the rest of the day as if nothing had happened
to me at all.

"Fox Mulder," the nurse called from the doorway, startling
me from my thoughts. She held the door open farther. "If
you'll come with me, please."

I stood up, and Scully stood up with me, squeezing my
fingers and silently telling me with her eyes that
everything would be okay.

Bending down and surprising her with a kiss on the cheek,
I whispered, "I'm glad you're here."

And I was glad.

Glad that despite my outburst last night, she still chose
to be with me today. Glad that she understood me and liked
me anyway.

Glad that she was my friend.

"I'll come in and see you when it's over, if they'll let
me," she said, looking up at me, then over at the nurse.

"Someone will come out here and get you when he's done,"
she answered reassuringly. "Are you ready, Mr. Mulder?"

Blowing out a big puff of air, I replied, "Let's do it."

~~~~

9:15 am


Watching everything happening around me, I felt nervous,
yet strangely calm.

On my body, I had on a regular hospital gown, but on my
face, I wore a clear plastic mask which fit over my nose
and forehead. I was also strapped to a table, which was
then moved inside of a linear accelerator. It was quite
large and reminded me of one of those futuristic chambers
you'd see in a sci-fi movie.

Once the procedure started, I saw lights and heard what
sounded like machine gun fire as my body was invaded
with a series of high voltage units. Then the accelerator
slowly turned, shooting at my face from a different angle
and doing the same thing all over again.

Four times I was zapped like this.

Four times I held my breath.

Four minutes later, it was over.

~~~~

9:40 am


Surprisingly, I didn't feel as bad as I thought I would.
I didn't have a headache, and my nose wasn't bleeding,
and I wasn't dizzy or nauseous either. I just felt tired.

Really tired.

Dr. Madison had told me that I would need to stay here
for at least an hour to make sure that I didn't have any
serious after-effects before I left, but then I'd be free
to go home or even back to work if I wanted to.

Not knowing what to expect, I had planned on taking the
rest of the day off, but maybe later this afternoon I
could actually go into the office for a little while.

Of course, convincing Scully that I was feeling well
enough to do that was a different story.

"Hey..." she said, walking through the door almost as
if on cue. "How are you feeling?" she asked, pulling
up a chair and sitting down beside my bed.

"Tired," I answered, struggling against my heavy eyelids.

"Everything go okay?" she asked, taking hold of my hand.

"Yeah, it did," I replied, yawning and laying my head
back against the pillow. "It wasn't as bad as I thought
it'd be, although I'm not too wild about this hospital
gown. All these blue and red dots are making me seasick,"
I said dryly, pinching some of the thin gown between my
fingers.

She smiled and squeezed my fingers. "Then look at me
instead."

"Well, I would, but I can't seem to keep my eyes open,"
I said, yawning again.

"Dr. Madison said you'd feel fatigued, especially after
this first time."

My eyelids drooped at half mast, and I could feel my
legs and arms sinking deeper into the mattress. "I feel
fine, Scully," I said, my words slurring.

"Just rest now, Mulder." She let go of my hand then, and
the next thing I knew she was leaning over me, kissing
my forehead. "I'll be right here when you wake up," she
whispered, her breath softly drifting across my face.

"Okay, Scul...ly..." I mumbled, finally letting my eyes
close and my body surrender to its exhaustion.

~~~~

I was dreaming.

About black oil swirling around in my nose and crawling
into every pore of my skin.

I was dreaming.

About blood flowing from my nose and dripping down onto
my new shirt, seeping through the fabric and clinging
to my skin.

I was dreaming.

About hundreds of men trapped beneath wires like me,
their bodies being poisoned, their screams for help
ignored.

I was dreaming.

And I was screaming too, but no one could hear me.

And I was struggling against the wires, but no one would
loosen them for me.

I was completely helpless.

The next thing I felt was someone's hand on my shoulder,
and the next thing I heard was a voice.

Scully's voice.

"Come on. Open your eyes, Mulder," she said, her words
sounding slightly muffled.

I forced my lids open and turned my head to look at her.
She looked out of focus.

"That's it, Mulder. Just wake up slowly," she said,
brushing the back of her hand across my cheek.

"Scully?"

The moment I opened my mouth, I regretted it.

Dr. Madison had told me to expect dry mouth. He didn't
tell me to expect a mouth that felt like it was lined
with sandpaper.

"Water," I rasped.

"Your throat hurt?" she asked as she handed me a cup of
water.

Pushing myself into a more upright position, I tipped up
the cup, letting the cool water slosh around my mouth,
then slide down my throat.

"My mouth...it's dry," I croaked, trying to swallow and
stir up some saliva.

"That's to be expected. Your salivary glands have been
compromised, and they aren't producing as much saliva as
they were before. Sucking on hard candy should help that,
and Dr. Madison recommended using this Salivart if you
need it," she said, holding up a small spray bottle.

"Thanks, Dr. Scully. I'll be sure to do that," I said,
managing a weak smile right before taking another drink
of water. "So when do I get out of here?"

"As soon as the nurse checks your vitals again and all
the paperwork's filled out."

I lifted the sheet up and swung my legs over the side
of the bed. Not feeling any dizziness, I stood up while
Scully held onto my arm. "How do you feel, Mulder? You
ready to go home now?"

"More than ready," I replied as I walked over to the
chair and picked up my clothes, then headed to the
bathroom as if nothing had happened to me at all.

Round one of radiation was over.

And I had won.

~~~~

Day 3 of Radiation
Sunday 10:23 am
Mulder's apartment


In my old life, my pre-cancer days, I never seemed to
run out of energy. I could get by on four hours of sleep
a night, and I often did.

Now all I want to do is sleep.

After my first day of radiation, I thought I did quite
well despite the fact that the sides of my mouth felt
like they were coated with sand.

And the second day, that wasn't too bad either. Just
a little dizziness and one nosebleed along with my
dry mouth.

But today I could barely keep my eyes open for more
than a few minutes at a time.

In fact, I was so tired, I nearly fell asleep right
inside the linear accelerator during my treatment
this morning.

Of course, the machine gun-like sounds from inside
the machine kept me from completely nodding off, but
if they had left me in there another few minutes with
the machine turned off, I think I could've easily slept
through the rest of the morning in there.

Afterwards, Scully drove me home and tucked me into bed,
which was where I was now. Okay, she didn't really tuck
me in, but she did fluff my pillows, which I gotta admit
was pretty cool.

Actually, Scully has been more than cool through all of
this.

She's put up with my mood swings, my nodding off in the
middle of conversations, my complaining, and pretty much
everything else I've thrown at her over the last few days.

"Scully?" I rasped, calling out to her in the other room.

"What is it, Mulder?" she asked, standing in the doorway,
the morning sunlight streaming through the blinds and
making her hair look even redder.

"Come sit here a minute," I said, patting the edge of
the bed.

She walked over to me, sitting down sideways on the bed
beside me. "You need something else before I go?"

I put my hand on her shoulder the same way I had done
that night in the hospital, the night Luther Boggs was
executed and we talked about how much her father meant
to her.

Only now it was my turn to let her know how much she
meant to me.

"Yeah, I do. I need to tell you something, Scully," I
said, suddenly feeling very self-conscious, especially
with both of us sitting on a bed of all places.

"What is it?" she asked, a puzzled expression on her
face.

I licked my lips and swallowed, then cleared my throat.
"I wanted to thank you."

I looked down at the bed and swallowed again, trying not
just to create more saliva in my mouth, but trying to get
my nerve up to continue.

Finally feeling ready, I took a deep breath and told her
more.

"You've done so much for me, and you've never asked for
anything in return." Swallowing again, I took her hand
in mine and gently squeezed it. "And I don't know what
I'd do without you in my life, Scully."

There, I said it.

I told her what I felt, and the world didn't come crashing
down around me.

At least not yet anyway.

She looked back at me, her eyes intently focused on mine,
and for a moment I actually thought she was going to lean
over and kiss me.

But that's when I felt it.

That unwanted, yet all too familiar sensation of warm
liquid making its presence known beneath my nose.

"Oh Mulder..." she said, quickly getting up from the bed
and hurrying to the bathroom.

"No, I got it," I said, angrily throwing the covers off
my legs and making my way to the bathroom before she could
get there. "I'll be back in a minute," I grumbled, quickly
stepping inside and abruptly closing the door behind me.

So much for the world not crashing down around me.

Leaning over the sink on my elbows, I turned on the faucet
and helplessly watched my blood drip down into the cold
swirling water, then disappear into the dark.

Again.

~~~~

A few minutes later...


"Mulder, you okay in there?" she asked, lightly knocking
on the door.

"Yeah, I'll just be a minute," I replied, drying my face
off with the towel. Taking some deep breaths and shaking
the tension from my arms, I opened the door.

"You alright now?" she asked, giving me the once-over
with her eyes to make sure for herself.

I nodded. "You know, they're starting to wonder about
me down at the laundromat," I said as I wadded up yet
another bloody washcloth and tossed it into the clothes
hamper outside the door. "You wouldn't happen to have
any extra quarters on you, would ya, Scully?" I joked.

She grabbed my arm before I could walk past her and
sharply said, "Stop it, Mulder. This isn't funny."

"No, it isn't, but it's how I deal with it...so just
let me," I snapped back at her, jerking my arm from
her grasp a little harder than I intended.

Neither of us knew what to say to that, and for several
excruciating seconds, we both just stood there, an
uncomfortable silence hovering between us.

"Maybe it's better if I just go now," she finally said,
looking down at the floor instead of me and nervously
rubbing her thumb along the crease of her pants.

"Maybe it is," I agreed as she turned away from me and
headed towards the living room.

Damn it.

This wasn't what I wanted. This wasn't what I wanted
at all. Not ten minutes ago, I laid my heart out on
my sleeve for her, and now I was pushing her away.

"Scully, wait," I called out just as she was about to
open the door.

"Wait for what, Mulder? For you to make more jokes
about how sick you are?" she said sarcastically, her
hand tightly clamped around the doorknob.

I plopped down on the couch, partly because of exhaustion,
but mostly because of frustration. "I don't know what
else to do," I said quietly, leaning forward with my
arms on my knees. "I don't know how I'm supposed to act
or how I'm supposed to feel. I don't know how to deal
with any of this, Scully, and it scares the hell out of
me," I admitted, the words spilling out of my mouth.

Before I barely had a chance to blink my eyes she was
sitting on the couch beside me. "And you think I do,
Mulder?" she blurted out. "Do you know how hard it is
for me to watch you go through this, knowing that there
isn't anything I can do for you?"

She leaned forward too, but she only put one arm on her
leg. The other one she put around my back.

"But you do help me, Scully...making sure I take care
of myself, staying with me when I'm at my worst...I told
you before that I don't know what I'd do without you, and
I meant it. You have helped me so much, not just during
these past few days, but for the last four years," I said,
the words coming much more easily to me than they were
before.

She rubbed my back a moment, then sat upright. "Mulder,
I don't know what to say," she said, licking the corner
of her mouth the way she always did when she was feeling
nervous or unsure.

"You don't have to say anything," I replied, and before
I knew it I was moving, and I was taking her in my arms,
and I was leaning in closer to her face than I'd ever
been before.

And then I was kissing her.

I was actually kissing her, and not just a peck on the
cheek or a quick kiss on the forehead, but a full blown
mouth to mouth-probing tongue-thumbs caressing her cheeks
type kiss.

And she was kissing me back.

She was running her hand through my hair, and her tongue
was swirling around mine, and though I know it's been
awhile since I've been this close to a woman, I'm pretty
sure those were her breasts firmly pushing up against my
chest.

And it was in that moment that I realized something.

After three days of having barely any saliva in my mouth,
I now had an abundance of it.

The fact that all I could think about during such a
momentous occasion was how much saliva I had in my mouth
was so silly, so completely inappropriate, that I just
couldn't stop myself from laughing.

And so I didn't, suddenly breaking away from her mouth
and letting loose with some sort of combination giggle
snort sound that I'd never heard myself make before.

"Mulder, what are you doing?" she asked, both her voice
and her expression filled with aggravation.

"I'm laughing, Scully," I answered, wiping my wet mouth
as I leaned back against the seat cushion.

"Four years I've waited for you to kiss me, and all you
can do is laugh about it? What the hell's wrong with
you, Mulder?"

Her head was cocked to the side, her cheeks tinged with
pink, her lipstick slightly smeared.

And she never looked so beautiful to me.

"Nothing's wrong, and for your information, I'm not
laughing at *you*, Scully," I declared with a smile.

She let out a huff of annoyance, though I could tell
she was more confused than annoyed. "Well, you could've
fooled me," she grumbled as she pushed the hair from
her forehead.

"Saliva, Scully. It's all about the saliva," I said,
still chuckling at the absurdity of how my mind worked.

"You're not making sense, Mulder."

"Well, it makes sense to me," I replied, happily pulling
her back into my arms and kissing the top of her head.

Finally deciding that she should just leave well enough
alone, she let herself relax in my embrace, pressing her
cheek against my chest and letting out a contented sigh.

Ah, life was good.

And I intended to savor it while I still could.

~~~~

11:53 am


I was dreaming.

About the first day she walked into my office, shook my
hand and smiled at me, then promptly shot down every one
of my theories.

I was dreaming.

About her driving all the way to Jersey to spring me from
jail and then treating me to a breakfast I practically
inhaled as I excitedly told her about the beast-like
person I'd seen the night before.

I was dreaming.

About surprising her with a kiss and having her kiss me
back. About warm wet lips and fingers tangled in the
strands of her hair as our bodies pressed together in
a way they never had before.

I was dreaming.

And I was happy.

And when my eyes opened, they didn't fly open in terror
the way they had been the past few weeks, but slowly,
easily, and without fear.

And then they opened wider, suddenly realizing that I
wasn't alone in my apartment, but with Scully curled
up beside me on the couch, her head resting against my
shoulder, her legs tucked beneath her.

Glancing over at the clock on the wall, I could see that
it was almost noon, which means that I'd been sleeping
for at least an hour.

As for Scully, I had no idea how long she'd been asleep
beside me, nor did I care. The fact that she'd felt
comfortable enough to let her guard down with me was all
that mattered, and I couldn't help thinking of another
time that she'd fallen asleep leaning against me.

It was the night we were sitting in my car trying to
figure out how to contact Pusher. We had been sitting
in a parking lot since before 2:00 a.m. waiting for
the pay phone to ring, and she had finally given into
her exhaustion, actually laying her head on my shoulder
and snoring.

When the phone finally did ring about an hour later, I
woke her up by brushing my finger along her jaw, then
teased her about drooling in her sleep.

I never did tell her that she hadn't drooled at all, but
that she had snored instead.

Kind of like what she's doing now.

Lightly brushing my finger over some loose hairs on her
forehead this time instead of over her jaw, I thought
about how much we've both changed in the four years we've
known each other.

I was so single-minded when we first met, so impulsive
and arrogant and set in my ways that I thought our
partnership was never going to work.

But little by little, case by case, I began to see things
from her perspective as well as my own, just as she began
to gain a new appreciation and understanding for the way
I did things.

Of course, there are still those occasions when I can be
arrogant and impulsive and all those other things I was
back then, but now I can't imagine being partnered with
anyone but her for work.

Or for life.

"Mulder?" she asked, disrupting my thoughts as she looked
over at me with bleary eyes.

"Hey..." I said, happy that I could take my cramped arm
out from behind her back now that she was awake.

"Sorry I fell asleep on you," she said, clearing her throat
and sitting up straighter.

"That's okay. At least you didn't drool on me this time,"
I said, smiling and wondering if she'd get my reference.

She did, uncomfortably looking down at the floor, but
slightly smiling despite her attempts not to.

Quickly regaining her composure, she turned to me and
placed the back of her hand on my forehead. "How are
you feeling? Better?"

"I always feel better when I'm with you," I replied
honestly.

"Mulder..."

"No, it's true, Scully. Even when we're disagreeing
about something, I still like being around you more
than anyone else."

"Okay, what have you done with the real Mulder?" she
asked, her eyes sparkling.

"Nothing. It's just that being sick like this has made
me reevaluate some things, one of them being the fact
that I let a lot of things go unspoken, especially when
it comes to you."

She tilted her head to the side and raised her right
eyebrow, then let her hand rest on top of my knee for
a moment before giving it a squeeze.

Leaning in closer to her face, I said quietly, "And right
now I'd really like to kiss you again."

She let out a tiny gasp then, a wonderful little gasp that
gave me just the encouragement I needed.

Pressing my mouth to hers for the second time, I closed
my eyes and savored the feel of her pink satin lips against
mine.

But this time, I didn't think about my saliva.

I only thought about us.

~~~~

FBI Headquarters
Monday morning
8:00 am


"Mulder, what are you doing here? You're scheduled to
have your fourth round of radiation in an hour," said
Scully, checking her watch, then giving me a stern look
as she walked into the office.

"I know, but I was having withdrawal symptoms," I said,
setting a file down on my desk.

She looked at me with a puzzled expression. "I'm not
following."

"I usually come into the office at least once over the
weekend, but I didn't this weekend. I guess I just needed
to be here for awhile, you know...while I'm still able to
be," I said quietly, feeling a lot more tired than I was
just moments ago.

"Everything will be alright, Mulder," she said as she
walked behind my desk and stood beside me. "You've made
it through three rounds of radiation already, and I'm
sure you'll do okay with your first chemo session this
afternoon."

Will I?

Will I be able to withstand having a needle inserted
into my body and having chemicals pumped into my
bloodstream?

Will it make me dizzy, jittery, nauseous, sleepy?

And what about my mouth? Dr. Madison told me that I'd
probably have a metallic taste in my mouth after the
procedure is done, but what about the problems I was
already having with it? Will they get worse?

So many things for me to worry about, so many things I
don't understand, which is why I was so nervous and
apprehensive about the whole thing.

Whenever I don't understand something, I feel vulnerable
and weak.

And I hate feeling that way.

"I'll be right there with you the whole time, Mulder,"
said Scully, gently putting her hand on my forearm.
"And if you have any questions or concerns, there will
be plenty of people there to help you."

"I know, I'm just a little nervous, that's all," I said,
wanting to share my fears with her, yet at the same time
not wanting to admit my vulnerability.

"That's understandable, but you *will* be alright," she
said, a reassuring smile crossing her face. "So, when
do you want to leave for your radiation appointment? We
should probably get there a few minutes early."

"Actually, I think I'd like to go alone this time," I
replied, surprising her with my response.

I didn't like the hurt look I saw on her face, but the
more I thought about it, the more I knew that this was
the right thing for me. She had been with me through
my first three treatments, and I was grateful for that,
but right now I really felt like I needed to do things
by myself this time.

She looked down at the floor a moment, no doubt trying
to understand my sudden need to do things alone after
including her in everything before, then asked, "Are
you sure you'll be okay driving yourself home?"

"I drove myself here this morning without any problem,"
I stated.

"Yes, but you didn't have any radiation beforehand," she
said in that logical tone of voice she usually uses when
we're arguing about a case.

"I've been taking care of myself for many years, Scully,
and I think I can take care of myself now," I snapped
back more harshly than I intended.

"Fine," she said gruffly as she turned away from me.
"I've got some work I can do here this morning anyway,"
she said, walking over to the table and grabbing a small
stack of paperwork. Heading to the back room of the
office, she slammed the pile of papers on the table and
angrily sat down in the chair with her back to me.

Damn it.

This wasn't how I wanted things to go today, especially
after what happened between us at my apartment yesterday,
and yet when it came right down to it, I honestly felt
like I had no say in the matter.

One minute I was happy, the next I was ready to jump out
of my skin. Last night I was exhausted, now I had energy
to burn. I was kind and sensitive one moment, and a minute
later I was a pain in the ass.

My emotions and actions were all over the place now, and
no matter how hard I tried I couldn't seem to reign them
in.

Running my fingers through my hair, I sat down and let
out a frustrated sigh.

I hate this disease.

~~~~

8:40 am


For the next half-hour, neither of us said a word, which
was just as well considering the fact that my mouth and
throat hurt.

With the exception of yesterday when I was kissing Scully,
my mouth always felt dry and uncomfortable now, and just
last night I had developed some sores on the insides of
my cheeks. Although Dr. Madison had told me to expect
some discomfort when I tried to swallow or chew, I didn't
expect my mouth to burn as much as it did.

Consequently, I also hadn't been able to eat any sunflower
seeds for the past three days, which quite frankly, was
pissing me off big time.

Popping another hard piece of candy in my mouth to get
some saliva going, I winced as the lemon flavoring singed
the tender tissues inside my mouth.

"Shit," I mumbled to myself as I quickly grabbed a tissue
and spit the candy back out.

One of the nurses at the cancer center recommended that I
suck on these candies to help my dry mouth, and up until
today they were working, but judging from the way my gums
and cheeks were throbbing at the moment, I was going to
have to resort to drinking even more water and using the
Salivart spray more often instead.

"You okay, Mulder?" I heard Scully call out from the other
room.

I swallowed and winced again, then took a drink from my
water bottle. "Yeah, I'm okay," I lied as I looked over
at the clock. Standing up from the desk, I walked over
to her and said, "I guess I better be going now."

Still sitting, she looked up at me, her expression no
longer filled with hurt and anger, but with concern.
"Call me if you need anything."

"I will," I said, bending down and dropping a quick kiss
on her forehead.

Then I turned to leave, but before I could, she grabbed
the bottom of my jacket sleeve and stopped me. "I mean
it, Mulder. If there's *anything*..." she said quietly,
her eyes searching mine one last time to see if I had
changed my mind.

But I hadn't.

As much as I would've liked her to come with me again,
I had to see if I could make it through a radiation
treatment on my own.

Saying a silent goodbye with my eyes, I reached out and
touched her shoulder, then headed out the door.

~~~~

A.G. Holton Cancer Center
10:20 am


"Mr. Mulder, can you hear me?"

"Hmmm..."

"Come on Mr. Mulder, open your eyes."

"Scully?"

"No, it's Janice, your nurse. Do you know where you
are?"

"Ah...yeah," I rasped, forcing myself to open my eyes.

Looking around me, I suddenly realized that it wasn't
Scully who was standing beside my bed, but the same
nurse who had taken care of me yesterday.

"Well, hi there, Mr. Mulder," said Janice, placing her
hand on my wrist and feeling for my pulse. "You were
really out. How do you feel?"

How do I feel?

Light-headed...exhausted...embarrassed...but mostly
foolish.

Foolish for letting my stubbornness and pride cause me
to make a decision that clearly was the wrong one.

Foolish for thinking that I could make it through a
radiation treatment alone.

Damn foolish, that's how I felt.

"My mouth hurts," I told her instead, trying to swallow
the big lump that had apparently taken up residence in
the back of my mouth while I was out cold.

"Here, take some sips of this," suggested Janice, holding
the straw to my mouth. "Not too many though...and not
too fast."

The wet cool sensation of the water sliding down my throat
felt wonderful, and I wanted to drink the entire cupful,
but I also knew that if I did, I'd run the risk of vomiting
it all right back up. Releasing the straw from my lips, I
pushed myself up into a more comfortable position and asked,
"What happened to me?"

"After your treatment was done, you tried to sit up too
fast, and you complained of dizziness. A few seconds
later you were out cold," said Janice, sticking one of
those ear thermometers in my left ear. "Do you remember
any of that?"

"No," I answered, feeling even more foolish than I felt
before for thinking that I could actually do this on my
own.

"Dr. Madison would like to change the amount of voltage
units you get when you have your next treatment tomorrow,
and after you've had your two days reprieve, he'd like to
reevaluate things before starting your next course of
radiation. If you have any questions, he'll be by in
about fifteen minutes or so to check up on you, and you
can ask him then," she said, getting everything ready to
take my blood pressure.

She was just putting the cuff around my upper arm when
Scully walked in. "How's he doing?" she asked, giving
me a quick once-over before turning to Janice.

"A lot better than he was about fifteen minutes ago,"
she replied, turning her attention back to her stethoscope.
"Deep breath, please...and another. One more, Mr. Mulder."

"Blood pressure's good, and your temp is normal. Still
feeling dizzy?" she asked as she jotted down the information
on my chart.

"No."

"Do you feel nauseous?"

"No."

"Light-headed?"

"A little."

"Thirsty?"

"Yes."

"Well, you can have a little more water now, and then
some more in about fifteen minutes. Your vitals are all
back to normal now, but we're going to go ahead and keep
you here another half hour just to be safe," said Janice,
looking down at my chart again. "Oh, and I see you're
having your first chemo treatment this afternoon too.
Well, I guess it's my lucky day then because I get to
see you twice today, Mr. Mulder," she commented, giving
me a friendly smile.

Yeah, lucky you, Janice.

You get to spend the afternoon with an idiot who thought
he knew how to deal with all of this, but apparently
doesn't have the first clue about what he's doing.

Of course, I didn't say that to her, instead simply nodding
my head and managing a slight smile in acknowledgement of
her comment.

"I'll be back in a half hour to check on you again," she
said, writing one more thing down on my chart, then leaving.

Scully waited until the door was closed, then sat down in
the chair next to my bed. "What happened to you, Mulder?"

"I don't know," I quietly replied, looking down at the
sheet over my legs instead of at her.

"Your nurse Janice called me at the office. She said you
had a dizzy spell and passed out."

"That's what she told me too, but I...I don't remember,
any of it, Scully," I reluctantly admitted, still not
meeting her eyes.

She reached over and put her hand on my forearm. "Well,
you're doing okay now, and that's what matters."

"Do I look like I'm doing okay, Scully?" I suddenly
snapped back, jerking my arm out from underneath her
hand.

My unexpected outburst flustered her for a moment, but
she quickly regained her composure. "Getting upset isn't
going to help you, Mulder," she said in a calm even
voice.

"How do you know what's going to help me? How do you
know what I'm feeling?" I asked, raising my voice and
making my mouth feel even worse than it did before.
"The truth is...you don't, Scully. You don't have any
idea at all about how I feel, how I hurt, how much I
just want all of this to go away..." I said, my voice
starting to break as I wiped the dampness from the
corner of my eyes.

In an instant, she was up out of the chair and sitting
on the edge of my bed. Then she cupped her hand around
my cheek and softly said, "I don't know how you feel
because you won't tell me, Mulder."

I wanted to.

I wanted to tell her about the nightmares I've been having
and that I haven't been able to eat a thing since she left
my apartment yesterday.

I wanted to tell her that my mouth hurts all the time now
and that I found several strands of hair in my comb this
morning.

I wanted to tell her that every time I get a nosebleed,
I actually wonder if I'm going to be able to stop it.

And I wanted to tell her that despite the way I look on
the outside, inside it feels like I'm dying.

But I couldn't.

Even though I had told her yesterday that I wanted to be
more open with her about what I was feeling, I couldn't
bring myself to tell her just how much worse I'd gotten.

Letting my head drop onto her shoulder, I did the only
thing I had the energy to do.

I put my arms around her and held on.

~~~~


Mulder's apartment
12:30 pm


I wasn't sure which gave me more pleasure.

Watching Scully standing in front of my stove making
scrambled eggs for me or actually being able to eat
the eggs with only minimal pain.

Ultimately though, I decided that it was a toss-up as
both things made me feel a hell of a lot better than
I did after this morning's radiation treatment.

Since Scully drove me home from the center, I hadn't
really wanted to talk about what happened there, and
luckily she hadn't pushed me on it. Then again, that
was pretty much par for the course for me. One moment,
I wore my heart on my sleeve for her. The next, I pushed
it back inside my chest, hiding it as deeply as I could.

Then again, she was the same way too, showing me small
glimpses of her emotions, then tucking them away where
I couldn't see them.

We were two of a kind, Scully and I.

We both had trouble with sharing ourselves, then pulling
back, yet no matter what we said or did or how we hurt
each other's feelings, we always came through for one
another when the going got tough.

"These eggs are really good, Scully...at least what I
can taste of them is," I commented, lamenting the fact
that my taste buds could no longer clearly distinguish
flavors.

"I'm just glad to see you eating something," she remarked
as she lifted up her plate and scraped some of her eggs
onto my plate. "You're getting thin, Mulder."

I looked down at my plate. "Are you trying to fatten me
up, Scully?"

She smiled. "That was my plan, yes."

"Well, if that's the case, then I know a place that makes
some great cheeseburgers...with lots of grease, of course."

"Grease is the last thing you need, Mulder," she said,
rolling her eyes.

"Come on, Scully. Don't you know that 'Grease is the word'?"
I teased, gingerly slipping another forkful of eggs into
my mouth.

"Cheesy 70's movie references, Mulder? Now I know you're
feeling better," she chuckled, reaching over and briefly
putting her hand over mine before placing it back in her
lap.

"You think 'Grease' is cheesy? I thought you liked movie
musicals, Scully."

"I do."

"But you didn't like 'Grease'?"

"It was okay."

"So then you weren't hot for John Travolta like every
other teenage girl in America back in the late 70's?"

She looked down at her plate and pushed her eggs around
for a few seconds, then replied, "No Mulder, I wasn't
*hot* for him, but I did think he was a great dancer.
I still do, actually. And what about you? I suppose
you had a crush on Olivia Newton John."

"Let's just say that after I watched that movie, I had
at least a week's worth of fantasies about her in a
certain tight black outfit and high heels," I said,
smiling as I remembered just how turned on I was when
I first saw her in all that leather.

"Maybe we should rent it sometime," she suggested.

"We don't have to."

"Don't tell me you actually have a copy of 'Grease' in
your video collection, Mulder," she said, a look of
astonishment on her face.

"As a matter of fact, I do," I replied, pleased to see
that even though I had started to lose some of my hair,
I hadn't lost my ability to throw her for a loop.

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, I keep it in the closet with all the other videos
I don't want anyone to know I have," I said, wondering
if she was going to go check my closet out now.

"I thought you kept those in the bottom drawer of your
desk at work," she playfully commented.

"This is my other secret stash. I like to call it my
*guilty pleasures collection*," I joked.

"I'm not even going to touch that statement, Mulder,"
she said, raising her eyebrow.

"Then touch me instead," I boldly suggested, not caring
how corny it sounded.

"Now *that* I can do," she said, smiling as she placed
her hand inside of mine, then took another bite of her
eggs.

Ah, now this was nice.

Of course, I knew that after my chemo this afternoon
I'd probably be irritable and unlikable and sick as a
dog, and things would become difficult for us again,
but for now I simply wanted to savor eating the rest
of my scrambled eggs and holding hands with my best
friend.

So I did.

~~~~

A.G. Holton Cancer Center
2:36 pm


Upon first viewing, it appeared to be a simple room with
simple things.

A window and curtains. Some cupboards and a sink. A
black reclining chair. A few blankets and pillows, and
a CD player on the counter.

But then I saw a needle and some bandages sitting on a
tray and a bag of chemicals hanging on a pole over in
the corner.

Chemicals that would slowly invade my body over the next
hour, traveling through my bloodstream looking for cells
to destroy.

And in an instant, the simple things became complicated
things.

"Mulder, you okay?" asked Scully, nudging my elbow and
knocking me out of my reverie.

"Yeah...I think so," I replied, slowly walking over to
the black recliner and sitting down.

"Just relax, Mr. Mulder," said Janice as she re-checked
the IV bag, then wheeled it over next to me.

Relax.

Yeah, right. She's not the one helplessly sitting here
waiting to have a bunch of chemicals pumped into her.

"It's understandable that you're nervous about what's
going to happen," she said, obviously noticing the rise
in my anxiety level.

I glanced over at Scully, who was looking rather nervous
herself.

"But I'm going to do whatever I can to make things
comfortable for you," she added as she slipped the blood
pressure cuff around my left arm. "And if at any time
during the procedure you have questions or you're having
pain or discomfort, it's important that you let me know
about it as soon as possible."

After she finished taking my blood pressure, she wrote
it down on my chart, then turned to Scully and said,
"And that goes for you too, Ms. Scully. If you see that
he's having difficulty, don't let him wait too long to
tell me."

"That won't be a problem," said Scully, giving me that
I'm-a-doctor-so-don't-give-me-any-grief look I know so
well.

"Now you've already had some compazine, which should
start taking effect anytime now, and when it does, you
might start to feel sleepy." She swabbed the back of my
hand, then tapped the veins. "And that's perfectly normal.
Some people sleep the entire time. Some listen to music.
Some like to have total silence, and some prefer having
a friend or relative read to them while they're waiting.
In other words, do what makes you feel the most comfortable,"
she said, picking up the needle.

What would make me comfortable would be to get up out of
this recliner, walk right out of here, and never come
back, but since that obviously wasn't an option, I opted
for some music instead.

"I think I'd like to listen to some music."

"Well, we've got a variety of CD's so I'm sure you can
find something you like. I'm kind of partial to the
Stones myself," said Janice, smiling at me right before
gently sticking a thin metal needle into the back of my
hand.

"Early years or the later stuff?" I asked, trying to
keep my mind off of what was happening to me.

I gritted my teeth in anticipation of the burning sting
I often felt right after the insertion of a hospital
needle, but surprisingly, I only felt a little discomfort.

"The early years, of course," she replied, taping the
needle in place with some tape that made it look like
I had a butterfly on the back of my hand. "In my opinion,
it doesn't get any better than 'Jumping Jack Flash'.
Unfortunately though, we don't have any of their CD's
here." She connected the tubing from the IV bag to the
needle, then said, "We do have some Billy Joel stuff
though, and some classical and jazz CD's. I'll get you
the box, and you can pick what you want."

She walked over to the cupboard, opened it, and pulled
out a small cardboard box which she handed to Scully.
After that, she checked my IV bag, my hand, and her watch,
then jotted down some information on my chart and said,
"I'll be back in fifteen minutes to see how you're doing,
but if you have any problems before then, just press the
call button. Do you have any questions before I go?"

Yeah, I have a question for you, Janice.

When do I get to go home?

"No, not right now," I answered instead, feeling a wave
of drowsiness spread over my limbs like a thick warm
quilt.

"Okay then," said Janice, lightly squeezing my arm, then
looking over at Scully, who had been unusually quiet for
the past several minutes. "I'll be back in fifteen minutes."

"Thank you," I said, slowly blinking my now heavy eyelids.

As soon as the door closed, Scully came over and sat down
in the chair next to mine. "You okay, Mulder?" she asked
as she brushed her hand over my hair.

"I can't keep my eyes open," I replied, my own words
sounding funny inside my head.

"It's the Compazine," she said quietly, leaning over and
kissing my forehead. "Just close your eyes and rest if
you feel like it. I'm not going anywhere."

Letting my eyes slip shut and my body relax, I muttered,
"Music...could you..."

"I'll pick something out," I heard her say, though her
voice seemed muffled like it was coming from the end of
a tunnel.

The next thing I heard was the click of the lid on the
CD player and the sounds of Mozart...or maybe it was
Bach.

Ah yes, Bach...I live for Bach...

I was dreaming.

About a late night meeting with Senator Matheson and the
chance to finally get some proof.

I was dreaming.

About Jorge and no-ho on the rojo and bright lights that
burned my eyes.

I was dreaming.

About being taken away like Samantha was and never seeing
Scully again and never getting the chance to tell her that
I love her.

I was dreaming.

About blood trickling from my nose and blisters inside my
mouth and chemicals traveling through my body, destroying
me from the inside out.

I was dreaming.

About how I never really told her how much she truly meant
to me...I never told her that I loved her...I never told
her...

"Never...told...you..." I mumbled, struggling to open
my eyes. "Scul...ly..."

"Shhh, it's alright, Mulder. Just relax," I heard her
say. Then I felt something cool on my forehead. A hand
or maybe it was a washcloth.

"Scully," I whispered, the dryness in my mouth making it
difficult to say anything more.

"I'm right here, Mulder." I felt the same cool sensation
again on my cheek, but this time I knew what it was. A
hand. Her hand. Her soft cool fingers fluttering across
my skin.

"Scully?"

"Yes, it's me," she answered, her words gently floating
over me.

"Is it over?" I croaked, finally managing to keep my eyes
open long enough to see her beautiful eyes looking right
at me.

"It's over," she said softly as she bent over and kissed
my cheek. "It's over," she whispered a second time, her
eyes welling up with tears.

Relieved to hear her answer, I reached up and touched
her face, then let my eyes drift shut again.

It was over.

Thank God, it was over.

~~~~


5:52 pm


The next time I opened my eyes, it was two hours later,
or so I was told anyway.

During that time, I had apparently slept soundly, so
soundly that I had been snoring.

"I'm impressed, Mulder. I didn't know your nose could 
make a sound like that," Scully teased, lightly pressing 
the back of her hand against my forehead. 

"It's a gift," I replied, somehow managing to smile at 
her despite the fact that my lips felt painfully dry 
and cracked.

"Want some water?" she asked, leaning over and picking
up a cup from the tray beside my chair.

I nodded my head.  Pushing myself to a more upright
position, I swiped my hand over my mouth and said, "It 
feels like I've been sucking on a metal pipe for the 
past two hours."  

"A lot of patients have a metallic taste in their mouth 
when they're finished with a chemo treatment. It should 
go away after awhile though."

I sipped some water through the straw, but unfortunately
the metallic taste on my tongue got even stronger. Quickly 
releasing my mouth from around the straw, I handed it 
back to Scully, who then set it back on the tray.

"While you were out, Janice came in to check on you a 
few times as did Dr. Madison."

"So, what's the verdict?  When can I go home?" I asked,
suddenly feeling a strong urge to get the hell out of
here.

Followed by a strong urge to throw up.

Which I promptly did...right on Scully's shoes.

"Jesus, I'm sorry, Scu..." I mumbled, flopping my head 
back against the pillow and closing my eyes.

But before I could finish my sentence, she interrupted
me and said, "I've had worse things on my shoes before." 

Opening my eyes back up at that comment, I was surprised
to see that she was smiling.

I just upchucked scrambled eggs on her shoes, and she was 
actually smiling at me.

What a partner.

What a woman...

She walked over to the sink, turned on the water, and wet
a washcloth. "At least this time, it's not some green stuff 
that's going to eat through the sole," she stated, lifting
her foot up and wiping off her shoe.

I managed another half-smile before closing my eyes again 
and thought back to that time two years ago, a time when 
she sat in vigil beside my bed in Alaska and used her 
science to save me.

And now here she was beside me again, but it wasn't her 
science I was relying on this time.

It was someone else's.

"I pressed your call button so Janice or someone else 
should be in here to clean this up in a minute.  You 
still feeling nauseous, Mulder?" she asked, placing a 
cool washcloth on my forehead.

"A little."

"Just lie still."

"You don't have to tell me twice," I replied dryly, not 
wanting to move for fear of throwing up again.  "I guess
this means I'm not going home anytime soon, huh?"

"Probably not."

"Stay with me," I said, not caring how needy I sounded.

She took the washcloth from my forehead and brushed it
over my cheeks.  "I'm not going anywhere, Mulder...but
only if you promise not to throw up on my shoes again."

"I'll try not to."

Gently pressing the washcloth on the sides of my neck,
she said, "Well then, that's good enough for me."

~~~~

Mulder's apartment
8:35 pm


Two hours later, when I hadn't done any more vomiting
and my blood pressure and temperature had stabilized, 
I was sent home, and although it was a relief to be in 
my own bed now, I couldn't help feeling apprehensive 
about making it through the night without any problems.

"I'd like to stay here with you tonight if that's okay,"
she suggested, adjusting the pillows behind my back.

"Are you coming onto me, Scully?" I lamely joked, knowing
full well that she wasn't.

"Would you like me to?" she asked, a flicker of arousal
passing over her eyes as she set a cup of ice water on
my nightstand.

"Let me get all these chemicals out of my system first.
Then we'll talk," I replied, enjoying her unexpected
flirtatiousness.

Letting out a puff of air, she sat down on the edge of 
my bed. "I really do think I should stay here tonight, 
Mulder...just in case."

I reached for her hand.  "You won't get any argument
from me."

"Now that's a first," she said, raising her eyebrow 
into that familiar arch.

"Well, don't get used to it because once I'm feeling
better, I'm going to be more than ready to give you a
hard time again."

"Promise?" she asked, the arousal in her eyes suddenly
replaced by a sadness and vulnerability that caught me
completely off guard.

Quietly pulling her into my arms, I brushed my hand over 
her hair and reassuringly replied, "I guarantee it."

~~~~

Tuesday morning
7:02 am


I don't remember falling asleep, but when I woke up it
was morning already.

I also don't remember asking Scully to sleep in my bed,
and yet there she was, curled up on the right side of 
my mattress, sleeping on top of the sheets still wearing 
the same clothes she had on yesterday.

And she was drooling.

The woman who is always in control, who never has a hair
out of place, who is cool, calm, and collected in any
kind of crisis was actually lying in my bed drooling on 
my pillow.

Being careful not to move the mattress too much, I raised
myself up to a sitting position, then leaned over her and
dropped a quick kiss on her temple.

As much as I can figure out, she must've come in here
sometime during the night to check on me and was just
too exhausted to go back out to the living room and
sleep on the couch.

Or was it possible that I'd actually asked her to stay 
in here with me?

Ever since the chemo treatment yesterday afternoon...or 
was it in the morning...my mind was so cloudy, I couldn't
remember much of anything.

Dr. Madison had told me that a small percentage of patients 
experience short-term memory loss after chemotherapy, and 
apparently I must be one of those lucky few.

I vaguely remember Scully driving me home and helping 
me into bed, but beyond that, whatever I did and 
whatever I said to her since then was now just a big 
blur to me.

"You okay?" she murmured, her eyes still closed.

"Yeah, I'm okay," I replied, not quite sure if she was
awake, asleep, or somewhere in between.

"That's good," she mumbled, rolling over and flopping her
arm over my leg, her hand resting dangerously close to my
groin area.

"Yes, it *is* good," I said softly, brushing back some
loose strands of hair off her face.

Yes, seeing her like this, so natural and unguarded, her
hair tangled and her clothes wrinkled was very good indeed.

Of course, when she wakes up and realizes where she is
and what she's doing, things may not be so pleasant, but 
for now, I intended to relish this rare opportunity to 
have her so close to me.

"Mulder?" she said, her eyes lazily opening, then slowly
widening as she realized where she was.

"Mornin', Scully," I said as if she were just walking
into the office instead of lying beside me in bed.

Quickly sitting up and nervously pushing her hair back
with both hands, she looked away from me and replied, 
"Good morning."

She was obviously embarrassed, though there really was
no reason for her to be.

"I was a little surprised to wake up and find you here,"
I said, reaching over and touching her arm. "But it was
a nice surprise." 

She looked over at me then, her cheeks tinged with pink, 
a faint trail of mascara beneath her right eye, her tongue 
darting out to the side of her mouth, then back in again 
as she contemplated the situation, but as uncomfortable 
and self-conscious as she seemed to be about sitting here 
beside me, she made no attempt to get out of the bed.

Putting her hand on my forehead, she suddenly flipped into
doctor mode and said, "You had a high fever last night."  
Then she pressed the back of her hand on each of my cheeks.  
"You don't feel warm now though.  How are you feeling?"

"Better than I was yesterday, I think. I don't remember
much of it though," I replied, enjoying the feel of 
her cool hand on my face.

She wrinkled her forehead.  "What do you mean you don't
remember?"

"I remember you driving me home from the center, and I 
remember you helping me into bed. The rest is kind of
fuzzy."

"Well, Dr. Madison did say that you might experience
temporary memory loss after the chemo.  What about the
rest of you?  Do you feel dizzy at all?" 

"No."

"Nauseous?"

"No."

"Still got that metallic taste in your mouth?"

"No, it's back to that always refreshing sandpaper taste."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay.  I'm getting used to it."

"Open," she said, putting her hand underneath my chin
and tilting my head up so she could get a better look
inside my mouth.  "Mulder, your mouth...it looks so..."

"Disgusting?"

"No, painful.  No wonder you haven't been able to eat
much the past few days...and no wonder you're getting
thinner.  You've got to keep yourself hydrated and
nourished or your recovery's going to be much slower."

"I know," I said quietly.

"I know you how much you hate that Ensure stuff, but if 
it's too painful to eat other things, you're going to 
have to start drinking more of it whether you want to 
or not."

"I'd rather grind up one of your nonfat tofutti things 
and suck the powder through a straw than drink more of 
that crap."

"I know it's rather bland, but right now you can't seem 
to tolerate much else.  Maybe you could flavor it with 
something so it'd go down more easily."

"Or maybe you could just make me scrambled eggs all the
time," I suggested, suddenly remembering how she hummed
as she was cooking them on my stove and how easily they 
slid down my sore throat.

And then I remembered where those eggs ended up later.

"If you make me some for breakfast, I promise I won't
throw up on your shoes," I said, relieved to get some
of my memory back.

"So, you remember that now, huh?"

"Yeah, unfortunately I do.  I'm sorry about doing that
to you, Scully.  I hope I didn't ruin your shoes."

"No, I was able to clean them without any problem," 
she replied as she started to get out of bed.

I reached for her arm and stopped her. "Where are you 
going?"

"To make you some breakfast.  You need to eat something,
and you should probably eat it now so your stomach can
have some time to digest it before you go in for radiation
this morning."

More radiation.

Damn.  

I had completely forgotten I had another round of radiation 
left.  At least after this one, I'd have a two day reprieve, 
but still, dragging myself out of this bed so I could go 
to the center was the last thing I felt like doing at the
moment.

"Mulder, did you hear me?" she asked, gently shaking her
arm from my grasp to get my attention.

"Yeah...I just forgot I had more radiation today, that's
all," I replied softly.

"And you'll get through it just fine," she said reassuringly.
"But first you need to have some breakfast," she added as
she brushed out the wrinkles in her pants and straightened
her blouse.

"Okay, but before you go, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"Why didn't you sleep on the couch last night?"

She thought for a moment, then said, "You had a high
fever last night, and you didn't have any control over
what you were doing or saying. I was worried that you'd
hurt yourself, and I didn't want to leave you alone."

As curious as I was about what I had said or done during
the night, what was even more important to me was the 
fact that she had stayed here and taken care of me.

"Thank you," I said, hoping that she truly understood
just how grateful I was for all she'd done for me.

"You're welcome," she said, turning to leave. When she
got to the doorway, she stopped and said, "But I didn't
do anything that you wouldn't have done for me if I was
the one who was sick."

And with those words she left.

Laying my head back against the pillow, I looked over
at her side of the bed...and it was hers now... and I
smiled.

~~~~

A.G. Holton Cancer Center
9:37 am


"You doing okay, Mulder?" she asked, putting her hand on 
my leg.  "You look a little pale."

"I just want to get this over with," I answered impatiently.

"That's understandable."  She felt my forehead yet again 
and said, "You don't feel feverish.  Are you nauseous?"

"No, I actually think your scrambled eggs are going to stay 
down this time, Scully," I said dryly.

"That's good, but just in case, I wore my old shoes today," 
she said, a hint of a smile crossing her face.

I appreciated the fact that was trying to get me to relax, 
but the truth was I couldn't.

I couldn't relax, and I couldn't sit still, and I couldn't
stop thinking about what was going to be happening to me.

I was about to undergo my last radiation treatment.  

It wasn't my last one overall, but it was my last one in 
this first set of five, and then tomorrow afternoon I'd
have a series of tests to determine if there'd been any
change in the size of my tumor and whether or not my next
course of treatment needed to be altered.

"What's taking so long?" I asked, abruptly standing up
and startling Scully.

"Calm down, Mulder," she said in a low voice.

Pacing back and forth across the small waiting room, I
replied, "I can't."

She stood up.  "Look, I know how hard this has been 
for you, how hard it is to have to wait and to not 
have control over the situation, but getting yourself 
all worked up isn't going to help matters."

"I know that, Scully," I said, suddenly sitting down 
again and leaning forward in the chair, my forearms 
resting on my legs.  

"What is it?" she asked, putting her hand on my back.

"I'm just a little light-headed, that's all," I replied,
looking down at the floor and releasing a long stream 
of air from my lungs.

"Damn it, Mulder," she muttered under her breath.  "Why
do you always have to push the limits on everything?"

"Because I do...it's who I am," I stated matter-of-factly.

She looked at me then, really looked at me, and said
quietly, "I know."

The frustration I heard in her voice and the exhaustion 
I saw in her eyes caught me completely off guard, and 
it was in that moment, I suddenly realized something I 
should've known right from the start.

This battle I was fighting wasn't just mine.

It was hers too.

"Mr. Mulder, we're ready for you now," the nurse called
from the doorway, disrupting us at the worst possible
time.

"You have to go," she said quietly, getting up out of
her chair.

I stood up facing her, but instead of heading right over
to the nurse, I hugged her.  "Thanks for putting up with
me," I whispered in her ear.

"Good luck, Mulder," she whispered back, tightening her
arms around my waist.

"You ready, Mr. Mulder?" asked the nurse, interrupting us 
a second time.

"Yeah," I answered, breaking our embrace, but not our eye
contact.  "I'm ready."

~~~~

It's funny the things you think about when you're lying 
flat on your back with a big plastic mask on your face
being zapped with a couple hundred high voltage units.

Zap.

A bottle of beer and some sunflower seeds sure would 
taste good right about now.

Zap.

My fish...when's the last time I fed them?

Zap.

My running shoes are starting to get worn out...I really 
should get a new pair.

Zap.

Just how many red and blue dots are on this hospital
gown I'm wearing anyway?

And then it was done.

No fuss-no muss, just a bunch of jumbled thoughts, and
I didn't feel dizzy, nauseous, or exhausted afterward
like I did those other times.

Now all I had to do was get through all the tests
tomorrow, and then I'd have an entire day to myself
before starting my next round of radiation.

And maybe if I felt up to it, I could actually do some 
work at the office for a few hours and have my old life
back.

At least for a little while anyway.

"Well Mulder, you look better than you did before, but 
the question is do you *feel* better?" asked Scully as 
she strolled into my room and sat down on the edge of 
my bed.

She seemed better too, her voice cheerier, her face 
looking less worn than it had before.

"I'm okay, considering..." I answered. "Did anyone out
there happen to tell you when I could go home?" I asked,
gesturing toward the door.

"Your nurse told me that you need to stay for another
half hour just to make sure you don't have any problems,
but then you're free to go."

Although I was glad my radiation had gone smoothly, I 
wasn't very fond of the fact that I'd have to stay here 
longer.

"So, what am I supposed to do for the next thirty minutes?" 

"Well, I do know one thing we could do."

"What's that?"

"Last night while you were sleeping, Skinner called me."

"Oh?  Does he have a new case for us?" I asked hopefully.

"Maybe," she replied, getting up from my bed and pulling
over a chair to sit on instead.

"Well, what'd he tell you?" I asked, barely able to contain 
just how excited I was to be discussing something other 
than medications and mouth sores and how thin I was getting.

"First of all, he sends his best and he says to take as
much time as you need to deal with things."

"And?"

"And he told me that if you were starting to get bored, 
which he knew you would be, you might like to take a look 
at a case that was brought to his attention over the
weekend."

"What's the case?" I asked, my mind already racing in
anticipation of what she was about to say.

"It has to do with the death of a military general and 
what they're calling some sort of 'invisible assassin,'"
she replied, arching her eyebrow rather high, then 
lowering it in typical Scully fashion. 

"Oooo...tell me more," I said anxiously, leaning forward
in bed as I waggled my own eyebrows.

And so she did, explaining everything that Skinner had 
told her last night, then telling me her theory.

Which, of course, I promptly refuted.

"I've missed this," I remarked, looking over at the clock
and realizing that half of my thirty minute waiting period
had already gone by.

"So have I, Mulder," she said quietly, reaching over and 
giving my leg a quick pat.

"I've also got a theory, that is, if you're interested in 
hearing it," I said, pleased that the tension we were both 
feeling earlier seemed to be completely gone now.

Leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms, she smiled 
and said, "Oooo, tell me more..."

~~~~

Crowley Park
12:40 pm


"What are you doing, Scully?  That's not the way back
to my apartment."

"I know," she said, making a left hand turn off Oak
Street onto Harbor Drive.

"So, why aren't you taking me home?" I asked, my curiosity
instantly piqued.

"Because I thought you'd like some fresh air instead,"
she said, looking over at me.  "And because I thought 
you'd like to celebrate the fact that you just finished 
your first round of radiation treatments."

"I haven't gotten out much lately the past few days, have
I?"

"No, you haven't, and it's such a nice day today that I
thought maybe we could go to the park for awhile and sit
or walk a bit on one of the trails or do whatever you 
feel up to doing."

"I'm not sure I'm up for much walking today, but I could 
go for sitting on one of those park benches, maybe that 
one that's near the pond," I suggested, happy to be away 
from my apartment, but disappointed about not feeling 
well enough to do something more strenuous than just 
sitting.

"You alright, Mulder?" she asked, a hint of concern
creeping into her voice.

"Yeah, I'm okay, just a little tired," I answered, looking
out at the trees and wishing I could go for a good long 
run among them.

"Well, we don't have to do this now if you're not up to it,"
she said, pulling into the parking lot and parking the car
by the trail near the main entrance.  "I can take you back
to your place so you can rest awhile, and we can come back 
later this afternoon."

As pleased as I was about being at the park, the movement
from the car ride combined with the fact that my medication
was wearing off had made me feel a little light-headed, not 
to mention kind of seasick. 

"Excuse me," I said, my need for some fresh air suddenly 
overwhelming.  Getting out of the car, I took a few steps,
then bent over with my hands on my knees and inhaled the
cool outdoor air.

Within seconds, Scully was out of the car too and by 
my side, her hand on my arm.  "Just take deep breaths, 
Mulder...long deep breaths."

After inhaling and exhaling at least a half dozen times,
I finally stood back up, and surprisingly, both the queasy
feeling in my stomach and the fuzziness I felt in my head 
were gone.

"Better now?" she asked, her hand still clutching my arm.

"Better," I answered, puffing up my cheeks and releasing 
one last big breath.

"I should get you home."

"No, I'd like to stay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," I said, not really wanting to go lie in bed again
back at my apartment.

"Well, okay, but just for a little while," she relented.
"Let's go sit down on that bench over there."

"Sounds like a plan," I said, taking hold of her hand
and slowly walking with her toward the closest wooden 
bench.  It wasn't by the pond like I wanted, but sitting 
there we'd have a good view of the maple trees and azalea 
bushes.

"This is great, Scully.  I'm glad you thought of it," I
commented as I sat down on the bench and looked up at the
sky.  "My apartment's okay, but even I have my limits. It 
feels good to be outside among the living."

And it did feel good, a light breeze skimming across my
face, fragrant flowers in front of me, a beautiful woman
beside me.

"I know it's been hard for you not to be able to do things
and go places this past week."

"You could say that."

"And I know how difficult it is for you not to be able to
work, but what's most important now is that you take care
of yourself so you can get better," she said, casually
sliding her hand over onto my thigh. 

"It's been hard," I agreed.  "But thanks to you, it's at
least been tolerable."

"I'm sure there's a compliment in there somewhere," she
chuckled, "although I'm not sure where."

"There is," I said, leaning over and kissing her cheek.
"You've helped me so much, Scully."

"I just want you to get better, Mulder."

I smiled.  "I'm not very good at being sick, am I?"

"No, I think I like you better when you're giving me a
hard time at the office."

"I like that better too...although being with you like
this is kind of nice," I remarked, putting my arm around
her.  I leaned back and stretched out my legs.  "Yeah, 
I could get used to this."

Letting herself relax in my embrace, she said, "Yes, it
is."

And so we sat there like that for awhile, the two of us
enjoying the sweet smell of the azaleas and the gentle
rustling of the leaves.  

It was just what I needed.

"Still feeling tired, Mulder?" she asked, finally breaking
the comfortable silence between us.

"More like really relaxed," I replied, letting out a
contented sigh.

"I suppose we should get going soon.  You really should 
have something to eat if you can tolerate it."

"As long as it's not some more of that Ensure stuff."

She smiled. "Oh, I think we can find something other
than that.  So, you ready to go now?" she asked, getting
up from the bench.

"I guess so," I answered, not really wanting to leave
the tranquility of the park.

I stood up beside her and slipped my hand into hers. "I 
really needed this today.  Thanks for bringing me here, 
Scully."

"Oh Mulder..." she said, her forehead creasing as she
suddenly let go of my hand and reached inside her pocket.
Pulling out a tissue, she handed it to me and said, "Your
nose...it's bleeding."

"Damn it," I muttered under my breath as I pressed it
beneath my nose.  I sat back down on the bench and tilted 
my head back.  "I'm so sick of this crap," I grumbled, 
pulling the blood stained tissue away from my nose and 
taking the clean one Scully offered me.

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

"Why?  It's not your fault.  It's not anybody's fault,"
I snapped, abruptly standing up again and heading towards
the car.  "Just take me home, okay."

"Okay," she said, her footsteps quietly following behind 
me.

There was nothing else to say.

~~~~

Mulder's apartment
4:51 pm


I was dreaming.

About lying on the Alaskan ice, my eyes burning, my hands
freezing as I watched a thick silver blade coming down on 
top of me. 

I was dreaming.

About being submerged in a tub of water and hearing Scully's
muffled voice above everyone else's.

I was dreaming.

About having one tube inside my nose, one down my throat,
and struggling for every breath.

And I was struggling for breath now, my mouth and throat 
too clogged with sores to call for help.

My eyes flying open, I frantically looked around the room 
only to realize that I wasn't in Alaska.

But I was alone.

Sitting up in bed, my hand immediately went to my nose,
feeling for blood.

There was none.

But there was the rapid pounding inside my chest and the
panicked trembling of my hands.

And there was that familiar rumbling deep in my stomach.

Jumping out of bed, I hurried to the bathroom just in 
time to deposit in the toilet the chicken noodle soup 
Scully had made me for lunch.

After I was sure I was finished, I splashed some water 
on my face, rinsed my mouth out, and carefully brushed
my teeth, making a conscious effort not to look up at 
myself in the mirror.

Mirrors were something I tried to avoid now, preferring 
not to see the man I'd become.

"Hey Mulder, you okay in there?" asked Scully from the 
other side of the door, her voice startling me.

"I'll be out in a minute," I answered, splashing some
more water on my face, then wiping it off with a towel.

Putting on my game face, I opened the door and said,
"You know Scully, I just learned something."

She tilted her head to the side, a puzzled expression 
on her face.  "What's that?"

"Chicken noodle soup tastes a lot better on the way 
down than it does on the way up," I declared as I walked
past her on unsteady legs into the living room and plopped 
down on the couch.

"What happened?  The last time I checked on you, you were
sleeping," she said, sitting down beside me, her hand
automatically going up to my forehead.

"And now I'm not," I said, letting out an irritated sigh.

She leaned back against the cushion and let out a sigh of
her own, though it wasn't filled with annoyance like mine.  

Hers was a sigh of exhaustion.

And she did look exhausted, her eyes rimmed with red, her
hair disheveled and her clothes loosely hanging on her 
already thin frame.

And it was because of me.

It was because of me...

The last five days I had become so wrapped up in how I 
was feeling that I hadn't truly noticed just how much 
all of this had taken out of her.

She brushed her hair off her forehead. "I'm sorry I 
didn't hear you sooner. I guess I must've dozed off 
before. Are you okay? Do you need some more medicine?" 
she asked apologetically as if it was her fault I'd 
gotten sick.

I turned to her then, picking up her hands and rubbing 
her knuckles with my thumbs.  "No, I'm the one who's 
sorry, Scully, for putting you through all this...and 
I'm sorry for not realizing sooner just how much my 
being sick has changed *your* life too."

Her tired eyes immediately beginning to fill with tears, 
she squeezed my hands.  "I haven't done anything for you 
these past few days that I didn't want to do, Mulder, so 
I don't want to hear anymore about it, okay?"

"No, it's not okay, Scully."

"Mulder, stop," she said, releasing her hands from mine,
but I quickly took hold of them again.

"I'm not going to stop because you need to hear this,"
I said firmly.

She looked down at our joined hands, but didn't try to
pull away.

"You have helped me so much, Scully," I said as I put 
my hand on her cheek.  "Now let me help you."

"Mulder..." she said, her eyes becoming damp again.

Brushing my thumb over the softness of her cheek, I said,
"You look so tired.  You need to rest."

"You're the one who needs the rest," she protested.

"Yes, I do...but so do you," I retorted.  "You have
stayed with me and watched over me for the past five
days, hell, the past four years, and now it's my turn
to do something for you."

She opened her mouth to protest again, but I stopped
her before she could, putting the tip of my finger
over her lips.

"I'm feeling well enough now that I can stay here on
my own, and I really think you should go home and get 
some rest."

"But you just vomited again," she argued.

"Yes, I did, and now I feel better," I stated matter-
of-factly.

I stood up from the couch, my legs much steadier than
before and pulled her up beside me. "As much as I enjoy
your company, I want you to go home, Scully. Take a nap. 
Take a bubble bath. Read a book. Do something for yourself, 
and don't worry about me for the rest of the night. Will 
you do that for me?"

She put her arms around my waist and laid her head against 
my chest. "I could use some sleep, but you have to promise 
me you'll call me if you need anything." She looked up at 
me then and added, "And I mean anything, Mulder."

"I'll call you if I need you," I promised. "Now you better 
get going before I change my mind," I said, kissing her 
forehead.

She held onto me a little longer, her arms squeezing me
a little tighter before finally breaking our embrace.

"You should get some rest yourself. Tomorrow's a big day 
for you," she said, reaching up and running her fingers 
over my scruffy chin. "But I know you're going to get 
through it just as you've gotten through everything else."

Would I get through it?

Would I go through all the tests, only to find out that 
my cancer had gotten even worse?

Would my radiation and chemo treatments need to be 
intensified, causing me to lose more of myself than I
already have?

No, I didn't want to think about that.  I *couldn't*
think about that.

Not now.

Not just when Scully and I were becoming closer than
we've ever been.

"Mulder, did you hear what I said?" she asked, tugging 
on my shirt and interrupting my thoughts.

"I heard you," I said quietly, suddenly not so sure that
I wanted to be by myself after all.

"Are you alright?" she asked, her forehead creased with
concern.  "You look a little pale."

"I'm fine.  Just go home, Scully.  Go home and get some
rest, and I'll call you later tonight," I said, putting
my hand on the small of her back as I walked her towards 
the door.

"Okay."  Stopping at the door, she looked up at me one
last time, her eyes searching mine and trying to decide 
if leaving me alone was really the best thing.  

"Get some sleep," she said, standing up on her toes and 
surprising me with a quick kiss.  "And don't forget to 
eat something," she added.

"I will," I replied, managing a weak smile as I opened
the door for her.

Managing a slight smile of her own, she turned around
and headed down the hallway towards the elevator.

"Take care of yourself, Scully," I whispered, watching
her until the elevator doors shut all the way.  Then I  
closed the door and walked back into my apartment.

Alone.

~~~~

9:37 pm


"Scully."

"Hi Scully, it's me."

"You okay, Mulder?" she asked, her voice sounding groggy
as if she'd been sleeping.

"You sound funny.  Did I wake you?"

"Yeah, you did, but it's okay," she replied, letting out
a big yawn.

"I'm sorry.  I guess I thought since I was having trouble
sleeping that maybe you were having trouble too," I said
as I pushed myself up into a more comfortable position
on the bed.  "I should let you go."

"No, it's okay.  Just give me a minute to get my bearings,
and then you can tell me what's going on," she said, her
voice already sounding more alert. "What time is it anyway?"

"A little after 9:30.  How long have you been sleeping?"
I asked, imagining her sort of half-sitting/half-lying
down in bed, her hair messy, her pajama top riding up 
over her abdomen exposing just a hint of skin.

The thought made me smile.

"It's already 9:30? Well, then I guess I really was tired
because I've been sleeping for the past four hours," she 
replied.

"So, do you feel better now?" I asked, pleased to hear that 
she got the rest she apparently needed, but also a little 
disappointed that she didn't get it in my bed.

"Yes, I do, but what about you, Mulder? You said you were 
having trouble sleeping. Did you have another nosebleed?"

"No."

"Has your mouth been bothering you?"

"It hasn't been too bad."

"Mulder, did you get sick again?"

"No, as a matter of fact, I fixed myself some scrambled
eggs a couple hours ago, and they haven't made a 
reappearance...at least not yet anyway," I said dryly.

"Well, that's good," she remarked.  "I'm glad you were
able to eat something."

"They weren't as good as yours though," I commented,
sliding back down in bed and sinking deeper into my 
pillow.  "So, just what is your secret ingredient
anyway, Scully?" 

"I'll never tell," she playfully replied.  "But maybe
if you're lucky, the next time I make them for you, 
I'll let you take a peek."

"I can think of something else I'd like to take a peek
at," I teased.

"Mulder..." she said as if she was annoyed with my
flirting.

I knew differently though, detecting a slight increase
in her breathing over the phone.

"Well, it's no wonder you're having trouble sleeping, 
what with all that sex on your mind," she stated, her 
voice low and seductive.

What'd she say? Something about sex and my mind? 

"Did you hear what I just said, Mulder?"

Oh, I heard you, Scully. I heard you loud and clear.

"Um, yeah...I heard you," I answered, stumbling over my
words like a lovesick teenager.

"So, is that why you called me and why you're having 
trouble sleeping...because you can't stop thinking about 
having sex?" she asked, obviously enjoying my discomfort.

Sitting back up in bed again, I closed my eyes a moment
and regained my composure, then replied, "I was thinking
about you, yes."

"I didn't ask if you were thinking about me. I asked if
you were thinking about sex."

Talk about a loaded statement.

But it was also an opening, an opening I was surprisingly
ready to take.

"Scully, what would you say if I told you that I wish 
you were here in bed with me right now?" 

Silence.

"Scully?"

A hitch in her breath.

"Yeah?"

"Did you hear what I asked you?"

More silence followed by what sounded like the nervous 
licking of her lips.

"I heard you."

"And?"

"And what?"

"And what would you say?" I asked, laying all my cards
on the table and hoping they were the right ones.

Another hitch in her breath followed by the best answer
she could've given me.

"I'd say I'll be over in a half hour."

~~~~

10:31 pm


I was dreaming.

About my hands tracing the curve of her warm smooth back 
as she slid her leg in between my shins.

I was dreaming.

About her fingers rustling through my hair, her nails 
lightly grazing my scalp, then tickling the tender skin 
behind my ear.

I was dreaming.

About kisses along my jaw line, hands roaming over my 
bare chest and the hot chill of two bodies touching in 
all the right places.

I was dreaming.

Of her beneath me, her eyes locked onto mine as I began 
the long glorious slide inside of her.

I was dreaming.

And then I was dripping.

Dripping with goddamn blood again, the bright warm drops
splashing onto the pale skin covering her collarbone.

And then she was crying, her eyes wide with horror as 
I jumped off of her and ran to the bathroom, my body
naked and cold and splattered with red.

"I'm...sorry," I mumbled.  "So...sor...ry..."

"Mulder."

"Didn't mean...to hurt you."

"Mulder, wake up."

"Don't want you to see me this way..." I muttered, my 
eyelids fluttering as they struggled to open.

"Wake up.  You're dreaming.  Open your eyes, Mulder,"
she said, her voice finally beginning to register in
my brain.

"Where am I?" I asked, my eyes struggling to focus in 
the dark, then suddenly realizing that I wasn't the only 
one in my bed.

Scully was right beside me.

Wearing her pajamas.

Her thigh touching mine.

And both of us underneath the sheets.

What the hell?

"You're at your apartment in bed," she replied, automatically
pressing the back of her hand against my forehead like she 
had so many other times.  "You were dreaming, and from the
sound of it, it was a bad one," she said quietly, moving
her hand behind my neck, which was feeling rather sweaty 
at the moment.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, furiously blinking 
my eyes and still trying to get my bearings.

"You asked me to come over. Don't you remember?" she asked
as she pulled the collar of my t-shirt away from my neck
and pressed the palm of her hand against my upper back.

"You're burning up, Mulder."

"I asked you over here?  When?"

"About 45 minutes ago," she replied as she moved her 
hand around to my chest, which was also hot.  

The next thing I knew she was helping me up to a sitting 
position and pulling my shirt up over my head. The cool 
air in the bedroom sent a harsh chill through my upper 
body, and I immediately grabbed the sheets and pulled 
them back up over myself.

"I'm going to go get you something to help bring that 
fever down.  I'll be right back," she said, climbing 
out of bed.

Watching her walk into the bathroom in her silk pajamas,
with her hair pulled back and her bare feet quietly
padding across the carpet, it all came back to me.

Calling her on the phone.  Scrambled eggs.  Her offering 
me a peek at her secret recipe. Me wanting to take a peek 
at something else.  And sex.  

We actually talked about sex.

Which led me to invite her over to share my bed.

And led her to agree.

She wanted to come over and be with me, to share my bed
and spend the night beside me.

And gee, what a great night she chose for it.

A beautiful woman in my room, and here I was, shivering
and sweating and huddled underneath the covers like a 
frightened animal.

Yeah, I'm Mr. Romance alright.  Every woman's dream man.

Want a man who's sick all the time and seems to have every
important moment in his life interrupted by a nosebleed,
fever, or bad dream?

Want a man who's not only losing weight, but is losing 
his hair as well?

Want a man who gets dizzy and nauseous on a daily basis?

Then I'm your guy.  I'm your guy...

"Here you go, Mulder.  Take these," she said, suddenly
standing by my bed again and interrupting my pity fest.

She handed me some pills and a glass of water.  In the 
dark I couldn't tell if they were aspirin or one of my 
other medications, but I didn't even bother to ask her 
what they were. I've swallowed so much shit the past 
few weeks, they could've been Flintstones kids' vitamins 
for all I cared.

Popping them into my mouth, I took a long drink of water, 
the raw sores in my mouth and throat stinging as I swallowed 
it down.

"Those should start to take effect in about ten minutes.
In the meantime, you can put this wet washcloth on your
forehead or on the back of your neck," she said, handing
it to me, then getting back into bed.

"You want to talk about what you were dreaming before?" 
she asked quietly, bringing her hand up to my forehead 
a second time. 

"I'd rather not," I replied, preferring not to think 
about my blood dripping onto her again or the horrified 
look she had on her face in my dream.

"It's okay if you don't want to," she said as she shifted
her weight in the bed so that she was sitting even closer
to me. "So, do you remember calling me on the phone now?" 

"Yeah...and I remember you telling me you were coming over.
In a half hour, right?" 

"That's right, but when I got here you didn't answer the
door so I used my key to get in."

"I must've fallen asleep soon after we talked on the phone,"
I said, trying to clarify what happened. "Sorry about that,"
I added, taking the washcloth from my neck and setting it 
on the night stand.

And I truly was sorry...for so many things.

"Why should you be sorry for getting the rest you obviously
needed?" she remarked, sliding down beneath the covers, her
toes tickling my leg.  

"Once I saw you sleeping, I just put my pajamas on and 
laid down in bed with you.  That *was* what you wanted, 
wasn't it?" she asked, nuzzling her head in the crook of 
my arm and draping her arm across my waist as if she'd 
been doing it for years.

Her head felt like a lead weight pressing into my chest, 
and the arm she'd laid on my belly felt uncomfortably
warm, but I wasn't about to move.

Not now.

Not with my woman beside me like this.

And she was my woman.

My partner in everything, my best friend.

And hopefully someday soon, my lover.

"It's exactly what I wanted, " I whispered, turning my
head to kiss her forehead.

"Me too," she murmured as her breathing slowed and her
body relaxed into mine.

My fever beginning to break, I closed my own eyes and 
let the quiet rhythm of her snoring lull me to sleep.

~~~~

Wednesday morning
8:09 am


I've been watching her.

The way her lips purse, then slightly open as she stirs 
in her sleep.

I've been watching her.

The way her hair falls across her flushed cheek as she 
rolls over a little more to the left.

I've been watching her.

The way she breathes when she dreams, the way her fingers
protectively clutch the part of the sheet covering my hip.

I've been watching her.

And wondering.

Does it get any better than this?

Just then her eyes opened and looked up at me, almost as
if she somehow knew I'd just been thinking about her.

"Good morning," she said softly, her head still on the 
pillow.

"Mornin'," I said, completely mesmerized by how blue her
eyes looked in the morning light.

"How are you feeling this morning?" she asked, scooting
her body over closer to mine without the least bit of
hesitation.  "Did you sleep well?"

Did I sleep well?

Well, let me see.  A beautiful woman spent the night in
my bed, touching me, sleeping beside me, and letting me 
see her at her most vulnerable.

Yeah, I'd say I slept pretty damn well.

"Yes, I did...thanks to you," I replied, not wanting to
hold anything back from her anymore.  I put my arm around
her shoulder, and she promptly scooted up higher so that
she could comfortably rest her head on my chest. "You're
better than a tranquilizer, Scully. Put you in bed beside
me, and I sleep like a baby," I teased, kissing the top
of her head.

"Gee, you really know how to flatter a girl, don't you?"

"I try."

"Well, I can think of an even better way to flatter me,
and it doesn't involve comparing me to a prescription
drug," she said playfully, her hand gently sliding across 
my bare chest.

"Are you flirting with me, Agent Scully?" I asked as I 
lifted her hand, turned it over, and dropped a quick kiss 
on her palm.

"Maybe, but I'll have to tell you my idea later," she 
replied, smiling as she dropped a quick kiss of her own 
on my collarbone.  "It's already after 8:00, and your 
appointment with Dr. Jensen is at 9:00."

Damn.

Leave it to Scully to bring me back to reality.

Waking up beside her, watching her sleep, sharing this 
quiet time together, I had completely forgotten about 
the tests I was supposed to have this morning.

The tests that would determine whether or not my current 
treatments would stay the same, the tests that would show 
if the mass in my nasal cavity had been altered in any 
way by the chemo and radiation I'd had so far.

The tests that would probably change my life.

Again.

"Mulder?"

"Yeah."

"What is it?  You looked so far away just now," she said
as she sat up in bed.

"It's just that...it was kind of nice, you know, not
thinking about that kind of stuff," I said quietly, 
looking down at my hand as I pulled at a loose thread 
on the hem of the blanket. 

"I know, but I have every faith that these tests are 
going to show some improvement." She put her hand over 
mine. "I can feel it," she said with certainty. 

There had been other times in the four years that I'd
known her that she had just *felt* something, and later
it had turned out that her instincts were right.

Was it possible she was right about this too? Could she
somehow sense that I was actually getting better?

Maybe...

Pulling her into my arms, I tucked her head beneath my 
chin and quietly said, "I hope you're right."

~~~~

Cedar Creek Drive
8:54 am


Neither one of us said a word on the way to the center,
which was just as well since I didn't really feel like 
talking or listening to anyone at the moment.

Not even her.

It wasn't that I was mad at her or that I was trying to
shut her out. It's just that I needed time to gather my 
thoughts and prepare myself for what was about to happen.

Along with taking my vitals and drawing some of my 
blood, I was going to be having an MRI as well as 
another nasopharyngoscopy. Although I wasn't particularly 
thrilled about having a scope stuck inside of my nose 
again, at least these tests wouldn't be as painful and 
uncomfortable as the chemo and radiation was. 

At least I hoped they wouldn't be.

"We're here," said Scully, her soft voice breaking the 
pensive silence that had filled the air between us for 
most of the drive.

"I see that," I commented as I looked out the window
at the building that had become my second home over
the past several days.

"Are you ready for this, Mulder?" she asked, turning 
towards me and placing her hand on the crook of my 
arm.

Was I ready for it?

Was I ready to be poked and prodded and scrutinized 
from the inside out?

No, but I was ready for some good news.

And I was more than ready to get my life back, even if 
only turned out to be a tiny piece of it.

"Yeah, I am," I replied confidently as I turned the door 
handle and opened the door.  

She squeezed my arm, then leaned over in her seat and
kissed my cheek.  "Then so am I."

~~~~

A.G. Holton Cancer Center
11:07 am
Exam room #3

Two long hours later, and everything was finished.

Surprisingly, Janice had found a decent vein in my arm
to take some blood from, and I actually got through the 
MRI without feeling nauseous or claustrophobic.

Dr. Jensen had also completed my nasopharyngoscopy
without any difficulty and was just about to remove 
the scope from my nose.

"Now your throat and nose might burn and feel a little
irritated when this first comes out, but you shouldn't
be uncomfortable for very long," he said as he slowly 
began to remove the long tube. "Just lie still, Mr. 
Mulder, and I should have it out in just a few seconds."

I blinked my eyes in acknowledgement, then shut them 
in anticipation of the burning sensation I was about 
to feel.

But it wasn't burning I felt next.

It was liquid.

The same liquid I'd been feeling for weeks.

Another nosebleed.

A bad one.

My eyes immediately flew open, and I tried to sit up,
but the local anesthetic I had been given earlier had
completely thrown my sense of equilibrium off, and I 
had to lie right back down again.

"Mr. Mulder?"

Bringing my hand up to my face, I cupped it beneath my 
nose, but it wasn't enough, the blood quickly pushing 
its way down in between my fingers.

"Mr. Mulder, can you hear me?"

The ceiling lights in the exam room flickered above 
me, and I could feel goose bumps popping up all over 
my arms.

"Patient is nonresponsive."

And then the room was spinning, thousands of tiny 
lights racing past my eyes in a bright yellow blur.  

"We need to keep him warm."

My arms and legs felt prickly, and I was dizzy.

So dizzy...

"He's losing too much blood."

My chest felt constricted now, my eyelids thick and 
heavy.

"He needs oxygen."

I couldn't breathe, the blood trickling down into my
throat.

"Come on, Mr. Mulder, breathe..."

I was trying to, goddamn it.

I was trying as hard as I could, but the wave of darkness
that was sweeping over me was too strong.

And so I stopped fighting it, closing my eyes and letting 
it pull me all the way under.

~~~~

I was dreaming.

No, not dreaming.  I was floating.

I was floating outside of myself, traveling to those 
places in time that I'd rather not remember.

The night Samantha was lifted into the air and carried 
away from me forever.

Standing beside Scully's hospital bed as I watched her 
struggling for every breath.

Holding my father in my arms as he died.

Frantically clawing at hundreds of dead bodies inside a
boxcar as a ring of flames surrounded me.

Pointing a gun at Scully, my fingers unconsciously poised 
on the trigger ready to pull it.

Sitting by my mother's bedside as she tried to fight her
way out of a coma.

Helplessly watching as hot black oil dropped onto my skin 
and crawled inside of me.

And then just like that, I was walking.

I'm not quite sure how I went from floating to walking, but 
I didn't question it. I simply did it, walking down the path 
that was laid out in front of me.

It was a long path, made of dirt and grass, and because 
I wasn't wearing any shoes, I had to be careful where I
stepped. I also had to keep pulling the back of my hospital
gown shut as the wind kept blowing it open.

"Come on Mulder, hurry up," a voice suddenly said.

"Who's there?" I asked, looking all around me, but seeing
no one.

"Stop worrying about whether or not your ass is showing
and hurry up.  You're wasting time," the voice said again.

"Who is it?  Who's talking to me?" I asked, still trying 
to figure out where the sounds were coming from.

"It's me, Mulder.  Don't you recognize my voice?"

"Scully?"

"Who else would it be?" she replied, her tone playful
and light.

"Where are you?  I can't see you.  I can't see anything,"
I said, walking in the direction I thought was the right
one.

"I'm right here," she said as if I should already know
that she was. "I can't believe you can't see me, especially 
since I'm so close to you."

"No, you're not," I argued.  "There's dirt and grass in
front of me, and I can see some trees in the distance,
but you're not in front of me or behind me or anywhere
else, for that matter," I insisted.

"I'm surprised at you, Mulder," she said, her voice coming
from a new direction now.

"Why? Because I can't see you?"

"Yes, and because you don't believe me.  I was under the
impression that you believed everything."

"Not everything."

"Well, would you believe me if I told you that I'm not
really beside you, but *inside* you?"

"What are you saying, Scully?  That this is a dream?"

"Does it feel like a dream?"

"I'm not sure."

"You're not sure about a lot of things in your life now,
are you?" she stated matter of factly.

"You could say that."

"But why? You've got a job that you love, that motivates 
you and challenges you, and you've got a partner who not
only believes in you, but trusts you with her life."

"I have cancer," I said weakly.

"So what?" she retorted.

"What do you mean, so what?  I could be dead within six
months or even six minutes if this dream is any indication,"
I said, not sure if I really was in a dream or just some 
sort of alternate dimension.

Wherever I was, it felt strangely comfortable to me.

"Yes you could, but you could also be alive for the next
thirty years. What it all comes down to is what you believe
and how strongly you believe it, Mulder."

"I understand what you're saying, Scully, but I also know
that it's not that simple.  I've believed in the fact that 
my sister is out there somewhere, waiting for me to find 
her, and yet here it is over twenty years later, and I'm 
not any closer to finding out where she is than I was 
before."

"But that hasn't stopped you from still looking for her, 
has it?"

"No, if anything it's made want to find her even more."

"Then why is it so hard for you to be strong now? Where 
this dream just took you, the obstacles you've overcome,
the pain you've endured over the years...you wouldn't have 
gotten through any of it if you weren't a strong person 
with strong beliefs."

"But you don't understand. It's not that I don't want to
get better, it's just that I have no control over whether 
I do or not."

"Of course you do, Mulder. You're a fighter and a believer, 
and that also makes you a survivor."

"Geez Scully, you sound like one of those sappy verses 
on a Hallmark card or something."

"I don't care what I sound like.  All I care about is
having you in my life, and in order for that to happen 
you have to believe that you're going to get better...
and you have to keep your eyes opened."

"But what if my cancer keeps getting worse? Do you really
want to be stuck with a man who might not be able to take 
care of himself anymore?"

"You can be such a jerk sometimes, Mulder, you know that?" 
she remarked, and though I couldn't see her face, I just 
knew that wherever she was, her right eyebrow was raised
as high as it possibly could be. 

"I'm just so tired of it all, Scully," I said, suddenly 
lying down right in the middle of the path.

"I know you are," she said quietly. "But you can't close
your eyes...not yet."

"Why not?" I asked, not caring about the dirt that was
getting all over my arms and legs.

"Because if you keep them open, you'll be able to see me,"
she said.  "You want to see me, don't you, Mulder?"

Struggling to keep my eyelids from closing all the way, 
I replied, "I do want to see you, but I don't know where
you are."

"I'm right here. Come on, Mulder, just open your eyes 
and look at me."

I want to look at you, Scully.

I want to work by your side, to be challenged by you, to 
laugh with you and be quiet with you, to sleep with you
and wake up with you.
 
I want to beat this cancer and spend the rest of my life
with you.

No matter how hard things may get, no matter how much I
may feel like giving up, I won't stop fighting because 
I want to live.

I want to live...

"Hey you, you gave us all quite a scare," said Scully, 
her voice tired and shaky.

"Scully," I whispered, blinking my eyes and trying to
better focus on her face.

Leaning over and kissing my cheek, she said, "Don't try
to talk now, Mulder.  Just rest."

I licked my dry lips and tried to swallow, but it felt 
like there was a golf ball stuck in my throat.  I tried 
a second time, then rasped, "What happened?"

She looked away from me, closed her eyes a moment, 
then softly replied, "You had a severe reaction to the 
anesthetic you were given, which caused you to lose a 
lot of blood and go into anaphylactic shock." 

"How long was I out?" I asked, not sure whether I really
wanted to know the answer.

"Nearly three hours, but now that you're stabilized and 
breathing on your own, Dr. Jensen said it's possible you 
could actually get out of here in as little as two days," 
she replied, her voice still shaky.

I gestured for her to give me some water, and she did,
letting me take two sips from the straw.  "My tests?  
Did he get back the results?" 

"Yes, he did," she said, looking away from me again.

"Well, what are they?" I asked impatiently, my body
stiffening in anticipation of her answer.

"Your MRI indicated a very slight change in the size of 
your tumor...it's gotten smaller, Mulder," she said, her
voice breaking as she awkwardly wiped away the tears that
were pooling in her eyes.

"Hey, you're supposed to cry when it's bad news, Scully, 
not when it's something good," I gently teased as I 
reached for her hand.

Moving her chair closer to my bed, she leaned over and
buried her head in my chest. "I know...it's just that...I 
thought I was going to lose you, Mulder," she said, her 
muffled voice barely audible.  

"Not this time," I softly replied, lifting my left arm 
and all the tubes connected to it just high enough so 
that I could put my hand on her back.  "And not ever 
if I have anything to say about it..." I added, closing
my eyes in relief.

She curled her arms around me more tightly then, and
as I listened to the quiet rhythm of her breathing, I 
thought back to the words she'd said to me in my dream.

And I knew she was right.

I *am* a survivor.


~end~

**When I first started writing this in June, I had initially
posted chapter one as a standalone story with no intention
of continuing it, but then several people wrote to me and
said things like - "So, what happened to Mulder next, Susan?
"How does the cancer affect him...and Scully?  You *have* to
continue this..."  Well, I thought about it for a few days, 
and I sat down at the keyboard, and suddenly the words just 
started flying out of my fingers, and I couldn't seem to 
write fast enough!  And then more people started writing to
me telling me about their cancer experiences, and that made
me want to write about Mulder's experiences even more, and
then well....the result is this story that started out as
a 22K standalone and ended up as a 152K mini-novel. <g>
Thank you so VERY much to those of you that took the time
to write to me, to motivate me, and to inspire me over
the last few months.  I'm very proud of this story, and 
in all honesty, I'm sad to see it end. Anyway, I hope 
that you found it as emotionally satisfying to read as I 
did to write, and if you could spare a few moments, I 
would love to hear your thoughts about it. :)

Thanks again,
Susan 

possibilities
http://possibilities.bravehost.com/

the bare essentials
http://www.geocities.com/filesfan34/

Started June 2002 - Completed September 2002.