Title - What a Difference a Year Makes  (5/5)
Author - Donna
Email address - donnah@donnas-stories.com
URL - www.geocities.com/Area51/Quadrant/4571/
Rating - R
Category - MSR
Spoilers - None
Keywords - MSR
Summary - Final Chapter
Feedback - Please
Archive - Anywhere, just let me know

Disclaimer - Mulder, Scully, the Lone Gunmen and Skinner all belong to
Chris Carter, 10-13 and Fox.  No infringement intended.


What a Difference - 5


"That's right, Scully.  Breathe, it's almost over."  She concentrated
on the feel of his hands massaging her tight abdomen.  She could feel
it ebbing and opened her eyes into the concerned face of Fox Mulder.

"That was a strong one, Scully."

She nodded, letting her breathing come back to normal.  "How long?"

"We're under ten minutes.  Don't you think we should go on?"

She smiled then and finally nodded.  "An epidural is beginning to have
some appeal."

He smiled then, "Good."  He'd wanted to go for some time.  He helped
her to her feet and walked her to the door.  He grabbed up the suitcase
beside the door, not releasing his hold on her.  She was grateful, that
last one had been strong enough to unnerve her a little and his touch
was comforting.

He seated her in the car and reached across to buckle her in himself. 
He watched her smile of gratitude fade and he knelt beside the door,
his hands on her again.  Her belly was rock hard.

"Stay on top of it Baby.  Breathe, that's it."

This one was lasting longer than the others.  She opened her eyes
needing to see him as well as hear him.  The dashboard in front of her
shimmered and seemed almost transparent for a moment.

"Scully?"  She had tensed up at the last moment.

Her hand met his and things were solid again.  "I think we need to go."
 She knew he didn't want to appear nervous, but he was.

She nodded and he rose to his feet.  It hadn't been anywhere near ten
minutes.  He hurried around the car and started the engine.  As soon as
he pulled out into traffic he had his hand on her again.  Her hand
rested on top of his, but her eyes were closed, trusting him to handle
everything else.

To her dismay, and she had to admit, fear, she could feel another one
building.  They couldn’t even be out of sight of her building.

"Umm, Mu . . . " Her grip on his hand tightened.  She thought she heard
him speak, but he sounded far away.   She forced her eyes open and
tensed immediately, the car seemed to be fading, becoming transparent
like before, but she wasn't able to blink it away.  Could pain cause
this?

She turned her head; Mulder was really all she wanted to look at
anyway.  To her horror, he was shimmering and going out of focus.  The
level of pain ratcheted up several notches as she tensed.  It was as
though she could see through him to somewhere else.

She wasn't doing the breathing, she couldn't get her breath.  It was
like her body was in a vise.  What was happening?  She tried to bend
forward, wrapping herself around the pain but she seemed to be
immobilized by more than just the seatbelt.

She moaned, trying to say his name but he wasn't real anymore, like the
car, she could see through him into something, somewhere.

*She can see me!*

The thought appeared in her head and she realized she was seeing a
room, she wasn't in the car and Mulder . . . Where was Mulder!  The
pain had receded slightly, though she knew not for long.  While she
tried to get her breath under control, it would be worse if she
hyperventilated; she forced herself to look around.

She wasn't in the car, she was in some sort of birthing chair, but she
was strapped in.  Her hands were free to a point but her upper arms
were pinned.

The being that she had heard in her mind moved into her view again and
she focused on him.  "What's going on?  Where's Mulder?"

He drew back away from her as though startled that she had spoken.  His
eyes widened impossibly large and continued to grow.  She must be
hallucinating and another contraction was beginning to grip her.  No! 
Whatever this was, she couldn't be here.  She couldn't have her baby
like this!  Where was Mulder!

She flinched as she felt something cool touch her arm.  She looked down
to the sight of long gray fingers pressing into her forearm.  She tried
to move away from the touch, but the contraction had grown beyond what
she could endure and she cried out in pain and fear.

The first man no longer looked like a man at all.  His large black eyes
showed no emotion at all though for some reason she thought he was
frightened of her.  None of that mattered as she felt the baby move
down within her and she felt the urge to push.

"No!  Let me out of here!"  She struggled and her arms came free,
released from whatever had held them.  Scully wrapped them around her
swollen middle.  "Let me go!  Where's Mulder!  What's happening?"

Then she was bent double as the next contraction forced her to push. 
She fought it but her body was in charge now.

There were other beings around her now.  She sensed even more that she
couldn't see.   She couldn't stop the birth, any more than she could
stop the rotation of the planet and she shrieked in pain and fury.

They crowded around and with the next contraction she felt the child
being born.  The head was out and she gasped for breath before the next
onslaught.  As she felt the shoulders leave her body she screamed his
name.

"MULDER!"

She jerked awake, terrified and disoriented.  It took a moment to
recognize her new bedroom, her new apartment.  She fell back against
the pillow and let the tears flow.  The dream, she was having it nearly
every time now.  The others had faded some, but this one only grew
stronger. 

Scully didn't bother to look at the clock.  It didn't matter anyway,
she wouldn't sleep again tonight.  She pulled the covers tighter around
her and curled into a fetal position to wait for daylight.

*****

He was searching for her as his eyes flew open.  He was sitting up in
the bed, his breath ragged as he wiped his hands across his eyes.  He
couldn't remember a dream, but it must have been a bad one.  No, not a
dream, he had heard Scully scream for him.

That was ridiculous, she wasn't here.  She wanted nothing to do with
him.  God, the pull of her was strong. 

He glanced over at the clock, 2:17 a.m.  He fell back against the
pillow, staring into the darkness.  He didn’t remember a dream.  He
shook his head; he was cursed with this memory.  As much as he wanted
not to, he remembered his dreams.  He had heard Scully scream for him.

That settled it.  He rose from the bed and pulled his jeans on over his
boxers.  He grabbed one of his gray t-shirts and some socks, then
looked around for his shoes.  Once dressed, he jerked his jacket up and
headed out.

Mulder knew where her apartment was.  He'd never been inside, but he
knew the layout and which windows were hers.  He parked in the nearest
space.  Her lights were on, but he saw no movement.  Come to think of
it, her lights were on every time he'd come by, no matter how early or
late.  Strange, he knew Scully had never slept with the lights on.  He
hadn't needed them either when she was living with him.

He had no good excuse to knock on her door, though he tried to think of
one.  Instead, he reclined the seat slightly and relaxed, letting his
eyes close.  If she needed him, if she really screamed, he'd be there.

*****

The knuckles against his window roused him and he opened bleary eyes to
see the cop standing there.  Shit, he hadn't meant to fall asleep.  One
would think all of those stakeouts over the years would give him enough
practice.

The cop leaned down.  "Please step out of the car, sir."  Mulder
started to reach for his ID.  The cop's flashlight aimed for his eyes. 
"And keep your hands in sight."

Mulder sighed and opened the door, carefully keeping his hands away
from his body.  "I’m armed, officer."

The policeman tensed slightly and put his hand on his own weapon.

Mulder opened his jacket wider to reveal his Sig.  "I’m with the
Bureau."

"Right."  The cop removed the Sig from his holster and tucked it into
his waistband at this back.  "Let's see some ID."

Mulder nodded and wearily pulled his badge from his pocket.  The cop
took it and held it in the light.  "This is your name?"

Mulder sighed, "Yes."

"You want to explain to me why you're sleeping in your car here."  It
wasn't a question.

"A friend of mine lives in this building.  I've been worried about her,
so -  "

"So instead of knocking on her door, you watch her windows and fall
asleep.  Forgive me if that sounds like stalking."

"I'm not stalking her.  She's been ill and I didn't want to disturb
her."

"Right."  The cop nodded, clearly not believing a word.  "Well, we're
going to disturb her now.  If she can identify you, and doesn't want me
to haul you off, I'll let you go.  But you won't be sleeping out here."

"Listen, I'll just -  "

The cop shook his head, "You're not leaving until I know who you are
and where I can find you."

Mulder scrubbed his face with his hand.  Great.  He followed the cop
into the building and pointed to her apartment.  "Her name is Dana
Scully.  She also works at the Bureau."

"She married?"

"No!"

The cop's eyebrow rose at that response, but he held his tongue.  He
knocked firmly on her door.  Very quickly they heard her response. 
"Who is it?"

"Officer Spencer.  I'm holding my ID up, can you see it?"

"Yes.  Just a minute."

Shortly the door opened, "Is there a problem?"  Then she spotted
Mulder.

He saw her for the first time in weeks and couldn't hide his dismay. 
There were deep dark circles under her eyes and she had to be less than
100 pounds.

Officer Spencer obviously felt the same way.  "Ma'am, are you all
right?  Is there someone I could call for you?"

"I'm fine.  What's going on?"

"Uh, I found this gentleman asleep in his car outside of your
apartment.  He said you could identify and vouch for him."

Her eyebrow rose as she looked over at him.  Finally she sighed, "Yes,
this is Special Agent Fox Mulder.  It's okay."

The officer stepped closer and lowered his voice.  "Listen, the truth,
is this some sort of domestic problem?  I can haul him away if you -  "

"No.  Really, it's okay."

The cop gave Mulder the once over again and sighed.  "Well, I'll get
out of your way.  If you need anything, ma'am . . . " 

"Thank you, for checking."  She managed to smile at the officer and
shut the door behind him, then turned to face Mulder.  "What are you
doing here?"

He swallowed, not sure what to say.  She didn't want him here, she'd
made that plain enough.  She's looked friendlier for the cop.

"I was worried about you."

"At 3:30 in the morning, you decided you were worried about me."

"Actually it was a little over an hour ago."  He tried to lighten the
mood, but she just looked at him for a moment.  Then something seemed
to pass through her eyes and she looked away.  He wanted to move to
her, but he was here on sufferance.

"Look Scully, I was asleep and, and I heard you scream my name."

She seemed to pale slightly but he wasn't sure.  "It . . .it was a
dream -  "

"Scully, I remember my dreams.  All of them.  I wasn't dreaming."

She looked away, then turned from him. His heart sank.  "Scully, I'm
sorry.  I just, I needed to check.  I needed to know you were okay." 
She said nothing, not even looking at him.  "Well, I . . . I'm sorry I
disturbed you.  I'll get out of here, let you go back to bed."

Her head came up then and he saw the fleeting panic in her eyes.

"Listen, Scully, it's really late and I'm exhausted.  Would, would you
let me crash here on your couch?  I'm only gonna get a couple of hours
as it is."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea.”

"Scully, I won't bother you.  I'm not . . . I just want to sleep on
your couch."

She stood there, clearly undecided.

"Please Scully."

"Fine.  I'll get you a blanket."  Bad idea, horrible idea, she should
throw him out, but she turned to find him some covers.

"Thanks."  He watched her leave, then turned to look at the couch.  It
was a new one, not at all like the one in her old apartment.  It was
long enough for him to stretch out, even a little big for the room. 
Had she had him in mind when she . . . no, that was too much to hope.

She returned to him with a pillow and blanket.  "Thanks."

Scully shrugged.

"You, uh, you look like you could use some sleep too."

"Mulder - " She stiffened, if he was going to get personal . . .

He held up his hand, "I'm not . . . just sit here with me.  Come on
Scully, how many times have your fallen asleep sitting beside me on
stakeout or in a car."

"I have a bed in the next room, Mulder."

"I know, but just for the few hours until dawn . . . Please, I'll sleep
better knowing where you are."  He could see she was torn, but if she
thought it was for his sake . . .

"Fine, but I need some sleep.  I have an autopsy at nine thirty."

He nodded and made himself comfortable in the corner of the sofa.  She
sat beside him stiffly.  "Come on, Scully.  Just relax."  He pulled her
against him gently and after a moment she relented.  He didn’t dare
move, he was almost afraid to breathe.  Her head eased against his
chest and he was startled to realize that she had already dropped off
to sleep.  He would have thought that impossible if he hadn’t seen her.
 He’d never seen her look so exhausted.  Maybe she could get in four or
five hours anyway.

*****

The sound of a voice roused him the next morning.  It took him a couple
of seconds to realize it was Scully’s couch he slept on and Scully
herself he slept under.  Then he realized the voice he heard was coming
from her answering machine.

“ -  problems with the next of kin.  The autopsy has been canceled at
this time.  As soon as we can reschedule, we’ll see if you’re
available.  Thank you and we’ll be in touch.”

Mulder smiled to himself, now she could get some more sleep and so
could he.  He settled her more comfortably and drifted back to sleep.

It was some time later when he woke again, and then because she was
waking.  She squirmed, fighting morning, then as he watched, her eyes
flew open and she looked up at him.  Her eyes widened and she struggled
out of his arms.

“You were just going to nap.  A couple of hours.  I’ve missed my
autopsy.”  She glanced at the clock.

“No.  Scully, they called to let you know it was canceled.  You don’t
have to believe me, they left a message.”  He gestured toward the
blinking light.  “I thought we could both use a little more rest.”

Instead of relaxing, she turned on her heel and disappeared into the
bathroom.  Great, she was furious with him.  Did she not realize how
much rest, damn necessary rest, she’d gotten?

When she emerged she wouldn’t even look at him, retreating to her
bedroom.  He took over the bath, then went to the kitchen and started
the coffee.

“I want you to leave.”

He hadn’t heard her enter the kitchen.

“Scully, nothing happened.”

“And it’s never going to.  I never should have let you in last night.”

“That cop would’ve hauled me away -  “ He started to smile.

“Maybe then you’d have gotten the message.”

His smile faded and his face became carefully impassive.  “Yeah, I
guess I would have.  I’ll clear out.  Thank you for the sleep.”  He
turned away from her and didn’t see the tears that suddenly filled her
eyes.  He let himself out of the apartment without looking back.

He returned to his car with a heavy tread.  Had she called out for him
last night?  It was feeling less likely in the light of day and she
didn’t want him around, at least when she was awake.  He had to accept
it.  He shouldn’t have given in to his impulse last night, but he’d
been so sure . . . why had he thought time apart would . . . he shook
his head and started the engine. He didn’t see her watching him from
the window.

*****

He threw himself into his work and for the next couple of days was at
the office nearly around the clock.  If he wasn’t at home, if he wasn’t
where they had spent so much time together, maybe he could start to
forget.  No, he didn’t forget, but maybe he could move on.  He’d done
it before, maybe not for someone that meant what she did, but he was
used to being alone.  And he knew she was safe.  Those few weeks,
months they had lived together, and the time they’d worked together
prior to her abduction, were an aberration in his life.  He should have
known.  He should have known it wasn’t . . . wasn’t what he’d imagined
when she continually refused his proposals.

It was his fault, her abduction, her torture, her . . . her inability
to ever have a child.  Just one more layer for him to live under.  It
didn’t matter.  If she had what she wanted, what she needed - his
absence, then . . . then she had it.  His lack of a life was a minor
point, it wasn’t like he was used to having one.

*****

She watched him leave her apartment with something like terror, unable
to leave the window until he was out of sight.  She turned shakily to
her phone machine and listened to the message.  He hadn’t lied to her,
but then he never had.  Scully sank onto the couch and realized how
rested she had felt when she had woken up in his arms that morning.  It
was the first rest she could remember since leaving his apartment.

Why had he come?  He hadn’t ‘heard’ her scream.  That was ridiculous,
but something kept bringing him back to her.  How could she stop him? 
How could she get him to move on?  Did he not understand there was no
possible future for him with her?  Her immortality was gone, taken from
her.  Maybe she would have chosen not to have children, but that would
have been her decision.  The choice had been taken.  He needed to find
someone else.

Enough, she moved from the window and began getting ready for her day. 
Once at Quantico, she almost immediately ran into her new supervisor. 
"Dr. Scully," he smiled at her, "I was going to apologize for canceling
your autopsy at the last minute, but you obviously got some rest, so
I'm not going to."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, I have to admit you've been looking rather tired lately.  I was
actually thinking of offering to write you a script for some Seconal,
but -  "

"Uh, actually, Dr. Petersen, I would appreciate that.  I have been
having a little trouble sleeping lately."

"Of course, we all have it occasionally.  What do you think, five
capsules?"

"Yes, I think that would be more than enough to get over this.  Thank
you for your concern."

"Not at all.  I'm very impressed with your work.  I don't need you
getting sick."  He scribbled out the prescription and handed it to her.
 Before he could speak again, he was hailed from the other end of the
hall and excused himself with a smile, shaking his head.

Scully looked at the small piece of paper, then folded it carefully and
went to her office.  In her desk she found the exact pen that Dr.
Petersen had used and, with her door locked, carefully changed the
prescription to 25 pills.  She marveled that her hand didn't even
shake.  She couldn't say she'd planned this, but when the opportunity
landed in her lap . . .

*****

He sat in Skinner's office listening to the other agent drone on. 
Mostly he was trying to figure out why he was being punished.  Surely
he had nothing to add to this gathering.  Of course, he felt that way
about everything right now.  

It had been nearly a week since he'd made a fool of himself for the
last time with Scully.  Heard her call for him in the night - yeah,
sure.

Why was he dwelling on that today?  Probably because of the sparkling
conversation going on around him.  He did better when he kept busy.
He'd even made plans with the guys for tomorrow, just to have
stimulation.  Laundry and house cleaning didn't get it.  When he was
alone, thoughts of her were always with him, so don't be alone or quiet
or still.  Besides it hurt too much anyway.  He'd even gone to happy
hour once this week - a mistake, true, but it had gotten him through a
few more hours of his life.  Experts said eventually one would recover.
 That didn't explain him still searching for his sister after 20+
years.  Oh this line of thought was helpful . . .

Besides she hadn't called for him.  It was just his yearning to see her
and he was more vulnerable to it when alone or asleep.  God, he could
feel the tug of her now.  That admission caused the feeling to grow and
he fidgeted in the chair.  Skinner glanced over at him, but said
nothing.

He moved in the chair again, this time actually looking behind him. 
Pay attention, idiot. Or you'll be attending these sessions forever. 
But the feeling didn't go away.  It was strong - his need to see her. 
What had triggered it so sharply?  He wasn't going, she'd made it clear
as crystal she didn't want him there.  Crystal.  She had a small
crystal vase that reflected the light.  She'd kept it on the bedside
table when she lived with him, often using it as a paperweight.  He
could see it now with a small note under it.  He moved uneasily and
Skinner shot him another look.

Without warning, the urge, the need to see her flooded him and without
realizing it, he was on his feet.  The urgency overriding his good
intentions to stay away.

"Agent Mulder?"

"I'm sorry, there's somewhere I have to be."

"Excuse me?"  Skinner stared at him. The look in Mulder's eyes brought
him to his feet.  "Could we step outside?"

Mulder nodded, following him.  Anything that got him closer to his car.

"Are you ill?"

"No, no I just, I have to leave."

"What is it?"

"I can't explain.  I just - call me Spooky and just let me go.  I'll .
. . I'll call you."

Skinner looked at the younger man.  He was already inching toward the
outer door of the suite.  He was going to bolt at any second and
Skinner could see that no threat was going to stop him.  He nodded and
opened his mouth to remind him to check in, but Mulder was already out
of the door and sprinting for the stairs.  What the hell?

*****

The feeling of panic didn't diminish when he made his escape.  If
anything, it intensified and he broke several laws making his way to
Scully's apartment - his FBI parking tag in plain view.

He 'parked' in two spaces in front of her building, grateful everyone
was at work.  Her car was neatly parked in its normal slot.  Why wasn't
she at work?  He took the stairs three at a time, having already
decided not to mess with the manager.  He was going in and if he had to
kick down the door, so be it.

Instead he nearly fell into the apartment when he tried the knob and
found the place unlocked.  "Scully?"  He shut the door behind him and
had his gun out - the panic was trying desperately to overwhelm him
now.  He headed straight to her bedroom and there she lay, in her silk
pajamas on top of the carefully made bed.  Her hands were folded over
her abdomen and his steps faltered.  She looked so 'peaceful', like his
grandmother at her funeral.

Oh god.

He was beside her then, feeling for a pulse - yes! And he saw her
breasts move as she took a shallow breath.  Then his eye was caught by
the small piece of crystal, holding down a note, just as he'd seen in
Skinner's office.  Beside it was a prescription bottle and several
capsules.  A prescription . . . He had the bottle in hand and - what .
. . Secobarbital, Seconal.  "Scully, no!"  He had her face in his
hands, tapping her cheeks.  "Scully, can you hear me?"

"Mmph no."

His knees nearly gave way.  No he didn't have time.  He hauled her off
of the bed, forcing her to walk as he talked, babbling to her the whole
time.  He walked her into her bath and pushed her down to her knees in
front of the toilet, then shoved his fingers down her throat to force
her to vomit.

"Come on Scully!  Wake up!"  He scanned the mess, several capsules
completely undissolved and several partials.  Her stomach had
apparently been empty except for the pills.  How many had she taken? 
And what were they?

He wet a cloth and dabbed at her face.  She was totally groggy.  What
the hell was that medicine his mother always kept on hand to make them
throw up if they swallowed something bad? Ipecac?  Yeah.  She was a
doctor, she must have some.  He jerked open her medicine cabinet and
spotted the small amber bottle.  Yes!

He pulled it out and broke the seal.  "Scully, drink this."

She tried to pull away, but he was in no mood to be gentle and forced
her to drink it.  When she was finished being sick the second time, he
cleaned her up again.  Then he pulled her to her feet to walk her
around.  She was still too out of it for him.  He glanced at her
shower, then made his decision.  He pulled off his clothes as she tried
to steady herself against the sink.

He stripped her as well and turned on the water in her shower.  He
moved her into it without waiting for it to warm up.  She struggled
feebly against him, but she was no match for his strength.  At least
she was waking up.  "Mulder, please."

When she spoke, he finally turned off the water.  He stepped out and
lifted her out after him.  He draped a towel around her and then
wrapped a towel around his own waist.

"I'll get your robe."  He left her then, taking his clothes with him,
and she looked at herself in the mirror.  She picked up another towel
and blotted her hair from dripping into her eyes, then picked up her
toothbrush with a shaking hand, moving by rote.

He pulled on his slacks, then opened her closet and pulled out her
robe. Finally he picked up the prescription bottle again.  There were
three pills in it and two on the bedside table.  He spotted one on the
floor.  He'd need to find them all eventually.  The note was there, but
he didn't touch it.

Six pills out of twenty-five.  His hand was shaking so badly that he
recapped the bottle to keep from spilling the six pills he had found. 
He fisted his hand around the bottle and returned to her.  She dropped
the toothbrush into the cup on the side of the sink and hung her head. 
He switched the robe for the towel and turned her to walk to the
kitchen.

"I'm going to make you some coffee."

"No, Mul . . . don’t."

"You drink it or I call 911."

"I don't need 911."

"Fine, then I'll call your mother."

"No!"  That roused her.

"Don't you think she'd rather be told her baby girl committed suicide
by someone she knows rather than a stranger?"

"I didn't commit - "

"Right, attempted suicide.  I'll be sure and make that point."

"Mulder, please."

He turned his back on her then, and started the coffee.  She couldn't
watch him, and closed her eyes.  She didn't open them again until he
placed the coffee on the table beside her.  Before she could lift it to
her lips, he lost it.

"What the hell were you thinking!"

"I . . . I wasn't . . . it was stupid."

"You're fucking right about that!  This would have killed your mother,
destroyed Charlie, what - "

"I wasn't thinking about them!"  She shot back at him.

"So what were you thinking about!"  He shouted back.

"You!  You won't move on.  You're not seeing anyone, you need to - "

"Hold it, I'm not seeing anyone?  What the . . . you tried to kill
yourself to get rid of me?"  He stared at her.

"You won't move past me.  I . . . I thought if I was gone you would . .
."

He stared at her, his mouth open.  Then he closed his eyes, and shaking
his head, sank to the floor at her feet.  "You were taking Seconal so
that I would . . . "  He let his head fall into his hands.

"How do you know what I took?"

He looked up then, "Because I have a matching bottle at my place."

"Mulder, no!"

"What, it's okay for you to do it, but not me?"

"Is that, is that why you . . . why you have it?"

He sighed, at least she was awake and talking.  "I got them when you
were . . . gone."  Her eyes were wide, "I didn't . . . obviously I
didn't go through with it.  I . . . I couldn't, not when there was a
chance you would come back to me."

Scully looked away then, "Is that why, why you . . . why you won't move
on?  You think you owe me?"

"I don't 'move on' because I don't want to move on.  I won't move on
because I still have hope you'll come to your senses and come back to
me.  I don't move on because without you I'm not whole!"  His voice
rose with each sentence.  He tried to calm himself a little, "Scully,
when we worked together and then when we worked together without their
knowledge - Scully, that was the first time I can remember that I felt
. . . real, whole.  And I wake up every morning hoping that this is the
day that you, that you . . . " He just stared up at her.  

Tears spilled from her eyes then.  "But you deserve so much more."

He looked at her, puzzled.  "There isn't any more.  There couldn't be. 
I only want you."

She looked deeply into his eyes then and allowed herself to see what
he'd been trying to show her.  A sob escaped her then and she slid from
the chair into his arms.  He buried his face into her throat.

"Scully, if you're going to go through with this, you need to tell me,
because I have to go out and buy adjoining plots.  There's no way I
could make it, even to your funeral - not if there’s no chance of
getting you back."

She hiccupped a sob and burrowed into his chest.

"Scully, I know you're suffering, but you have to let me back in.  You
have to let me help you."

"You'll never have children."

"Hey, I happen to believe that fewer Mulders on the planet is a good
thing.  And it does give you an exclusive - think about it."

She gave a shaky chuckle.

"Seriously Scully, I don't know what's going to happen.  I can't see
the future, but that year we worked together changed my life.  The year
you were, were gone changed both of ours.  I just know that whatever
happens next year or the year after that, will be better if I have you
with me.  Please, Scully, let's see what the next years bring,
together."

He meant it and she could hear that.  God, what a stupid mistake she'd
almost made.  But he'd heard her cry for him even then.  There was a
connection, and she might as well face it.  He had a point, the time
they’d spent together was . . . she couldn’t say their future was
necessarily together, but there should be a future.  A year with him .
. . what kind of difference could a year make?