END OF THE ROAD AUTHOR: Ewa E-mail: ewa@whatewa.com RATING: PG 16 CATEGORY: S SPOILER: Sein Und Zeit/Closure. Missing scenes and post ep. KEYWORDS: S POV MS R A Character death THANKS To Peggy for endless patience. SUMMARY: Scully has to watch her partner as he comes to terms with loss. DISCLAIMER: Any characters you recognize belong to Mr. Carter & Co. Description of autopsy is not strictly mine either, I'm no ME. ARCHIVES: Let me know where it's gone please! AUTHOR'S Notes Finally after a major hatchet job, it's done. Feedback please! ewa@whatewa.com See my stories at www.whatewa.com 17.01.01 FRIDAY AM It wasn't the end of the road for Mulder, he still had his Mom's committal service to get through. At least Teena Mulder had the foresight to have pre planned her funeral arrangements, she'd had spared him that much. It was my idea to add a memorial service for Samantha onto that of his Mom. It would be a celebration of Samantha's life, brief though it had been, and mother and daughter would be together in spirit if not physically. Mulder liked the idea. We got Samantha's name and dates added to the headstone. "There's been so much sadness, for so long. I think both of them would have liked that, for us to be happy for them now that they are at peace." "In their own ways they both loved you too much to have you suffer any longer Mulder." Mulder's fingers entwined with mine throughout the service and I was touched that he should publicly seek comfort from me like this. Later at the graveside I placed two posies of yellow roses on the grave, one for his Mom and one for his sister. "Yellow roses for remembrance," I told Mulder. He had brought a posy to lay on Emily's coffin. I needed to do the same for him. Mulder remembered too, he squeezed my hand gently in his own and I saw how moved he was. When the service ended Mulder wanted to go and clear out his mom's house. I wouldn't let him. He was trying to do too much too soon. "Mulder, let it be for a while, give yourself a little time...please.When the time is right, when you're ready, we'll do it together. Okay?" Reluctantly he agreed. "Let's go home Mulder. Please..." He gave me a fierce hug. I took his hand and we walked away from what was left of his family, back to our car. "Let me drive, Scully." I didn't stop him, at least it would keep his mind from recent events. The only snag was that I remembered instead. SACRAMENTO 3 weeks earlier 10:12 PM He'd ditched me yet again and Skinner chewed my butt out because of it. It had been a very long and tiring day for me. Skinner had told me about this case Mulder had almost begged to go on. I really didn't know what shape he'd be in. Concern for Mulder and physical exhaustion made me more than a little tetchy by the time I drew up outside Mulder's motel. I knocked on the door, to hear Mulder call out it was open. It was uncanny how he expected me there. The only illumination in the room came from the muted TV showing Mr. LaPierre being hounded by a TV reporter. Mulder lay fully dressed on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He didn't move, didn't even look at me. From the condition of him, I'd been right to worry, but that concern was tinged with exasperation. Not a "What you doing here Scully?" "Sorry, Scully." Nothing. It was almost as if I wasn't there. "Mulder? What are you doing?" "Thinking." "About?" "Amber Lynn LaPierre." "Mind if I turn on the light?" I knew thing were bad when he wouldn't let me turn the light on. I needed to see his face properly but his only movement was to turn away. Mulder has this habit of personalizing cases like these, somehow he always links them in his mind to Samantha's abduction. "Skinner's royally pissed. He expected a report at noon; he waited and now he's sent me to find you." "I don't have it." Mulder replied softly From the report to TV, Skinner hadn't been able to hold off any longer and the local PD had moved on the case. The location of the note found at the scene troubled my partner, something just didn't sit right. He might said more, but the sound of his cell phone made us jump. "Mulder" "Fox, I'm watching the news." I don't know why I felt a if I were eavesdropping on this conversation with his mom, but I did. "Oh." Mulder wasn't very comfortable with the call. "That little girl in California. You're out there, aren't you?" "Yes." "When are you coming back here?" "I don't know." "Call when you get back. Fox" "Sure," he answered and pressed the end button. Mulder was in no mood for conversation. We had a lot to explain and discuss between us, but it was something that needed to be done when we were both thinking clearly and rationally. Our relationship was strained, especially because of the kiss we'd shared on New Year's Eve, it looked like we weren't going to acknowledge it had ever happened. Deny everything, that was our motto. What was new? Would we have been better to have left well alone? I didn't know about Mulder, but I was almost asleep on my feet. "Goodnight Mulder. We'll talk in the morning." Mulder, lost in thought didn't answer. SKINNER'S OFFICE I paced nervously outside Skinner's office, waiting for Mulder to emerge. He was treading a very narrow line, he wouldn't admit it but I saw how the case was effecting him. The side trip to see Kathy Lee Tencate, a woman convicted of killing her son in similar circumstances hadn't helped Mulder had been with Skinner for an age and things didn't looking good, at least from where I stood. Half the building could probably hear as well. I should be in there, supporting Mulder. "Intensify our search where? The Twilight Zone?" I heard the sarcasm. Skinner's raised voice was audible even through the closed door. He didn't much care for Mulder's theory, that was obvious. That's when the call came through to Skinner's PA. I was close enough to hear the gist of it, I heard her sharp intake of breath and her pale face confirmed my fears. "I will tell him." I told her. "I think he will take it better from me." The relived look on her face said it all. Skinner was still fuming in there, "I deal in the real world, Agent Mulder. You begged onto this case as part of the solution. All you've done is hand our only suspects the Twinkie Defense." My stomach cramped and the air emptied our of my lungs in a long, aching sigh. Protocol be damned, I took a few calming breaths and softly entered the office. I would have given anything not to have to do this. "Sir?" "What? What is it, Agent Scully?" he almost shouted at me, still focused on Mulder. I only had eyes for Mulder. "I need to have a word with Agent Mulder." It came out more quietly than I'd intended, my voice seemed to be playing up. Skinner's agitation at this interruption was obvious. "It can wait!" If anything my voice got softer, but something must have alerted Skinner to the seriousness of the situation. "No, it can't, Sir." He looked at me and fell silent. Mulder looked surprised at this. "What is it Scully?" I couldn't see very well through the stinging in my eyes. There was only one way to do this. I tried to keep my voice steady as I told him, but it came out in a whisper. Framing the words was difficult, my lips and tongue felt thick and awkward... near numb with the fearful anxiety. "Mulder, your Mom's dead." Even as I said it, the phrase slammed around my head, displacing rational thought with it's implications. The air sucked out of him; Mulder's face whitened, I could feel his disbelief and tension radiating from his skin. He and stared at me as if I'd just shot him. A tear slip from it's mooring and trail down my cheek. I felt the instinctive urge to take him in my arms, but it fled when I saw his face. He turned to leave the room, but I moved more quickly, reaching his side and grasping his arm. Mulder shrugged me off, his face was a blank, he was shutting me out. I moved numbly past Skinner and out of his office, after Mulder wondering if my partner would ever forgive me. It was amazing how fast Skinner could put things into operation when there was a need. Within twenty five minutes Skinner was driving us to the airport to catch the next available flight to Greenwich Connecticut. He tried to brief me as he drove, but I wasn't paying much attention. I kept glancing at Mulder in the rearview mirror. He sat in the back, pale, not moving nor speaking, a vacant look in his eyes. He looked almost catatonic. God, I ached for him-for the pain and loss he was feeling. We had to wait for a little at the airport. Mulder looked awful. He hadn't said a word since I broke the news to him. I didn't know what to do for the best. His hand was clenched tightly on the arm rest between us, I laid my hand over his, gently stroking it with my thumb, hoping he'd understand. When it was time, I led him onto the plane and sat him in the window seat, away from prying eyes. Mulder slumped in the seat, grief etched into his tried face, looking as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. I could feel his pain. I did the only thing I could think of, I needed to get him to rest. I pulled one of the cushions out and laid it across my lap. "C'mere, Mulder, you need to rest, come on, lay down. I'll wake you when we get there." I pulled his head into my lap and he didn't argue, but the look he gave was all the thanks I needed, the anger in his eyes wasn't directed at me. He nestled in and closed his eyes. I covered him over with my coat and he allowed my arm around his shoulder. As the plane took off, I couldn't help myself, my hand strayed to his head and absently brushed the hair out of his eyes. Stoking his hair was very therapeutic for me, I just hoped it would help my partner too. I wanted to hold him, to promise to make everything better for him, like you would a lost and bereaved little boy, the little boy he resembled. MRS. MULDER'S RESIDENCE The scene at his mom's house was harrowing. The police, FBI agents and the Coroners were still reviewing the scene. In the kitchen the oven was open and the doors sealed with tape. One of the Coroners handed Mulder an empty prescription bottle. The evidence all pointed to suicide. This was more than Mulder could deal with. "She called me, she wanted to talk, but uh...I never called her back." "Mulder...it wasn't your fault" "I didn't... Why would she do this? It just doesn't make any sense." He moved towards the dresser and saw the empty photo frames. "Why....?" He sank down onto his mother's bed. I needed to hold him, for myself if not for him, but he wasn't ready for that yet. He was rationalizing, trying to make sense of it all, needing to come up with five and not four. "She saw me on the news. She wanted to talk about the missing girl Amber Lynn. She wanted to tell me something about her or maybe she couldn't tell me over the phone because she was afraid that they would do something like this to her." "Who?" "Whoever took my sister. Look at this place. I mean, it's like...it's-it's all been staged; the pills, the oven, the tape. It's like a bad movie script." He got up from the bed. "They would...they would have come here and they would have threatened her. She would have been upset, they would have sedated her. I would look for a uh...needle puncture mark or something else in her system besides these pills. I suddenly understood what it was he was asking, what he needed me to do. "Oh, no, Mulder. Please don't ask me to do this." "Scully, who else can I ask?" "An autopsy Mulder? I mean, it's one thing on a stranger, but you're my friend, and she's your mother.. Please...." "I know, but if you don't do it, I might never know the truth." I saw his hazel eyes liquid with unshed moisture I saw the trust, the raw need. When could I ever refuse him anything? He needed this so that he could move on. This was what I was trained for, wherever it occurred, unexplained death had to be explained-to family to friends, to the authorities. I would do this for him to the best of my ability. His need for closure was so much greater than the cost to me. All the same, I was glad when one of the Agents drove him to the airport, leaving me to get on with the autopsy alone. Death has it's procedures and protocols, and this was no exception. When his Mom's body was brought in, I'd have to take blood samples for analysis, then do a clinical autopsy to see if there were any medical reason for her death. I checked out all the paraphernalia I would need- measuring tape, camera, tape recorder. I checked the tape recorder had a cassette inside and that there was a spare one available. I found the small scales and containers, labeled tubes for body fluids and larger dishes for transporting organs. There was a radiographer on duty. Normally this would all be the job of the assistant, but I needed to make sure that everything was just right for his mom. This would be my gift to them, this was a form of last rite, something useful I could do for the deceased and her loved one. I didn't want to think of anything beyond this room with it's gleaming stainless-steel surfaces. The special protective clothing was lad out, boots, to users, fine metal mesh vest, goggles masks, caps and long plastic gowns to fit over everything else. As I got ready I went over the checklist in my head, I walked up to the gurney as the body was brought in. One of the attendants was arranging Petri dishes, slides and pipette on the bench. Between them they lifted the bagged form from the gurney to the stainless-steel table. Was it suicide? Suicidal people have been known to have last minute regrets. These thoughts muddled through my brain. I was glad that the ultimate decision was not solely mine to make. The coroner too would be involved in deciding whether it was an accident or suicide. My job was to collect the evidence, to give the medical facts, not the supposition of why it happened. I could only supply so much information. I could say how a person died-the actual cause of death, the non-medical things had to be gleaned from other sources. Fully garbed now, I walked across to the table, then closed my eyes for a moment. Shutting down my connection to this woman through her son my partner, I let my training and experience take over. With all my forensic medicine experience I pride myself on being good at this. To work! I turned on the recorder. "I'll do a full external and internal examination, take blood, stomach and bladder content samples for full tox screening and prepare sections of the organs for lab testing." I began, speaking quietly and distinctly into the microphone next to my head; recording the height, weight and physical appearance of the victim who had been Teena Mulder. I worked quickly but methodically, moving from one stage to the next, relaxing enough to concentrate on detail. After photographing the body, I began the full external exam. Starting at the neck and shoulders I detailed every mark, every mole any sign of injury. Bearing in mind Mulder's concern, I paid particular attention to the skin where needle tracks might show. There was a mole on her thigh. "Puncture marks?" My assistant asked. I shook my head. "No. They can be disguised but there'd be some ridging of the skin." I kept reminding myself of the importance of emotional detachment. I left the head till last, I've always done that, probably because that's the order of the internal exam. Her face, was at peace but mask-like, emptied of life. Taking the scalpel I began the Y-incision., and then carried on to cut up both sides of the ribcage to expose the chest cavity. Blood had to be taken from the heart, then removed together with the lungs, esophagus and trachea. Next the weighing and examining of the organs. Abdomen next-fluid aspirated for analysis, general appearance any obvious injury? Once I'd removed the stomach and slit it I dictated the contents, before emptying them into a sterile jar. It would go to the labs with the blood and a sample of bladder contents, which I drew up and released into a small vial. It was time to move to the head, as I lifted the scalpel for the first incision, something made me pause. I know faces aren't truly symmetrical, but there was something more than that here. As I probed the head it became more obvious. Why hadn't I spotted this before? I asked for X-ray to be taken, that and testing the blood should confirm my suspicions. An hour and a half later I was finished. Slides and samples had been packaged In cool boxes for transportation to Pathology. All that remained was to sign the authority for the body to be taken to the funeral home. The x-rays did confirm my suspicions, there was evidence of pagetic bone in the skull. The blood was further proof. There were abnormally high levels of total alkaline phosphates present. Teena Mulder had suffered From Paget's disease. I remembered Mulder saying his mom was getting a bit hard of hearing. He'd put it down to her age. It was more likely due to the Paget's. Before I left for Washington I had another shock, further tests had shown the full extent of Teena Mulder illness. MULDER'S APARTMENT 1:52 AM I was so weary when I finally reached Mulder. He looked disorientated as he opened the door and we stood awkwardly for a moment, before he reached behind me to close it. He couldn't have long been home, his hair was still damp from the shower and he'd changed into jeans and gray t-shirt. "I'm glad you're here Scully. My mother was trying to tell me something. I think I've figured it out. It's something about my sister, something she was never able to tell me. Listen" Mulder went over to his desk and hit the replay button on the answering machine and his living room was filled with is mom's voice. "Fox, it's your mother. I'd hoped you'd call upon your return but I haven't heard from you. I'm sure you're busy. There are...so many emotions in me I wouldn't know where to start. So much I've left unsaid, for reasons that I hope one day you'll understand." Mulder's face was grief-stricken. He replayed the last part again. "So much that I've left unsaid for reasons that I hope one day you'll understand." "She knew what I'd find with this case out in California." "How *could* she know that, Mulder?" "A child disappearing without trace, without evidence, in defiance of all logical explanation? She knew because of what's driven me, what I've always believed." "Mulder...." "Scully, these parents who've lost..." he paused, swallowing painfully. "Who've lost their children. They've had visions of their sons and daughters in scenarios that never happened but which they describe in notes that came through then as automatic writing and words that came through them psychically from old souls protecting the children. My mother must have written a note like that herself. Describing the scenario of my sister's disappearance, of her...of her abduction by aliens. Don't you see Scully? It never happened. All these visions that I've had have been Just....They've been to help me cope, to deal with the loss but...I've been looking for my sister in the wrong places. That's what my mother was trying to tell me. That's what she was trying to warn me about. That's why they killed her." Mulder's eyes were gleaming with moisture, his breath caught in his chest as he spoke. "Mulder...." This was going to be so hard to do. Knowing what this was going to do to him, there was no easy way of saying it. "Your mother killed herself, Mulder." I took a deep breath. "I conducted the autopsy. She was dying of an incurable disease. An untreatable and horribly disfiguring disease called Paget's Carcinoma. She knew it, there were doctor's records. She didn't want to live." He stared at me, not believing. With his arms over his chest he was trying to catch his breath. One hand came up to cover the grayness of his face. He was trembling. I put my hand on his shoulder but he flinched away. "I saw it Mulder," I whispered. "I saw the reason." The explosion of anger was sudden, jumping up he violently shook his desk, but collapsed in the chair as the anger evaporated just as fast. I leaned into him, I tried to take him in my arms, but he didn't respond. He held himself separate, his face turned away. He was holding on so tightly to his emotions, I wanted him to let go, I wanted to hold and comfort him. I*had* to be strong for him. He'd said once that I was his touchstone, I needed to be that for him now. "Mulder...I'm so sorry." "She was trying to tell me something. She was..." His voice broke as the tears finally broke the dam and he collapsed back into the chair, "...trying to tell me something." He sobbed, shying away, backing into the chair. His head hang over the arm, his arms covered his eyes. His brokenness scared me. I tried hard to keep a grip, to be strong for him, but still couldn't stop the stray tear escaping. Unsure of what he needed from me, I squatted in front of him and touched his knee as I looked up into his face. My hand brushing the stray bangs of hair off his forehead of it's own volition. "Mulder, she was trying to tell you to stop. To stop looking for your sister. She wanted to tell you about what she had. I don't think she knew how to Mulder. She was just trying to take away your pain." Mulder couldn't bear to hear it. He plunged into my arms, burying his head in my shoulder, clinging on so tightly I could scarcely breathe. "Hold me Scully, just hold me." That was one thing I could do. Hold him and comfort him, protected him, while his large frame shook with grief. "Oh, Mulder...." I finally allowed the tears to fall, crying for him and with him. For all the guilt he carried, for the burden he'd shouldered for so very long, for his lost childhood, for everything he had given up in his quest for the truth. I wanted to stop him hurting, to stop his pain; just as his mom had done. I eased him onto the couch and slid onto it beside him not knowing how to ease the pain, I pulled him gently down to my lap. As I cradled his shaking body holding him tightly, he let out a deep sigh and curled around me, burying his face in my stomach. As another wave of grief hit him, he wept like a child and I wept with him. I pulled the Navajo blanket over him to keep him warm, brushing his hair away from his flushed face. Did he know that I would always be there for him no matter what? It wasn't clear when the comforter became the comforted, a sob that caught in my chest made him turn and look up into my puffy eyes. What did he see there? "Oh, God, Scully..." He took my face between his palms, his thumbs stroked across my cheeks. Shifting, he pulled me to rested against his chest, cradled me in his arms. His head dropped down to mine and his soft lips kissed the tears away. "It's okay Scully, we'll get through this. If you're beside me..." His soft warm mouth moved down my face in tiny butterfly kisses and then I tasted the saltiness of our tears on as his lips finally rested on mine. Clinging together, our kisses full of passion, desperation and healing as the storm raged in us, till at last we came to enough to try to pull away Our breath uneven as we tried control our emotions. My breath hitched as I lay trembled in his encircling arms; melting against his chest until, the sound of his heartbeat lulling me to sleep. As I drifted off, cocooned in his body, he gently rocked me, making me feel very precious. 6:34 AM The insistent knocking woke me with a start. I claimed off the couch careful not to disturb Mulder. Sleeping entwined with your partner on his couch makes for very crumpled clothes and pins and needles in your arm. Couldn't the Bureau *ever* leave us be, weren't we allowed even a few hours sleep? It had only just gone half past six for god sake. This had better be good. Finger combing my disheveled hair, I opened the door to Skinner. Now, why wasn't that a surprise? "Hi." "Hi," I replied. Skinner looked into the apartment and then at me. "How's he doing?" "It's been a bad night for him." "Billie LaPierre is asking for him. She's got something to say and she'll only talk with Mulder." "It's not a good..." I protested but stopped as Mulder got off the couch and came to stand behind me. "What is it Sir?" "The case has heated up Mulder. I've booked two flights for us." I looked up at Mulder supportive glances, it was comforting to feel his hand in the small of my back. There was an almost imperceptible nod of his head before he went back into the apartment to pack a bag. "You'd better make that three, Sir" Mulder had found it difficult to think that his sister might be dead, but with what he'd learnt since.... Things might be beginning to make sense to Mulder, but I was getting more and more uneasy. SACRAMENTO Billie LaPierre, described seeing her daughter in pajamas, trying to say something to her mother, her lips moving with no sound. The words might have been 'seventy-four'. I had to leave the interview, it was too much like when Dad died, too close to home. But it was Mulder's reaction after the interview that had both Skinner and me concerned. He wanted to go home, he told us, Amber Lynn was dead. "I don't know what the truth is and what isn't anymore. I'm way to close to this case to make any kind of sound judgment. In fact, I would like to ask for you to let me off this case, please, and I'd like to take some time off." Skinner and I exchanged looks, Mulder, walked towards the car. Thank God it was over. I could take him home. As we drove I spotted something that made me make the sort of leap Mulder does so often. My hands tre