~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ UNIVERSAL INVARIANTS ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ by syntax6 Chapter Sixteen: Range of Motion Only later, once he had stopped yelling, did the image finally register. Scully lay bloated and bleached in the ICU with a half dozen machines surrounding her. Mulder could not name their various functions, but he knew without asking that the prognosis had to be bad. His partner, so strong and competent at absolutely everything, now could not even breathe on her own. Her skin looked thin and translucent. They had placed tape over her eyes. Mulder found this part the most disturbing. He wanted to rip off the barriers and force her to see again. Without her clear blue eyes, he couldn't be sure it was really Scully. Her mother sat at her side. Mulder lingered by the bed, reaching out but not quite touching Scully's arm. "Her memorial was scheduled for tomorrow," Maggie said at last, as if he did not already know. She clasped Scully's limp hand as tears welled in her eyes. From what the doctor had told them, there was a chance the service could go on as planned. "You can't give up yet," Mulder said. "If we can just find out what happened to her..." "How?" Mrs. Scully looked up at him. "Dana can't tell us. No one here knows anything. You can't tell me why she disappeared and you can't tell me why she's back. All we can do now is what's best for Dana." Mulder watched Scully's chest rise and fall with the rhythm of the machine. Why, indeed? Perhaps, if there were tests, Scully had failed them. Perhaps they had tossed her back like a fish too small to fry. Or maybe they had just wrung nearly every bit of life from her and sent back the remains as a final "fuck you." We will spare you nothing, was the message. You can watch her die. Mulder took a steadying breath. His fingertip grazed the inside her arm, teasing the fine, papery skin. "You can't give up hope," he told her mother. "Someone has to tell Ethan," she said, pulling back and wiping her eyes with her hand. "I haven't had time to call him." "I'll do it." She looked surprised. "You? Really, Fox, I can do it." "No," he said. "I should be the one." Ethan picked up at work. Mulder had to call around for the number, and when Ethan answered he was clearly in the middle of some other conversation. "--just leave the run down on my desk. Yeah. Minette," he said, finally turning his attention to the phone. "Ethan, it's Fox Mulder." "Mulder," Ethan said, sounding tired. "What can I do for you?" "Listen, I'm at the hospital. Georgetown Medical Center -- do you know it?" "I know it," replied Ethan, distracted now. "Dana's here." There was no other way to say it. No way to lessen the shock. Mulder could feel stunned silence weighing on the line. "She in intensive care," he continued. "I think you should come as soon as you can." "What happened to her?" Ethan whispered. "I don't know. No one knows." "Someone must have brought her there." "Someone who didn't want to be found. Look, I think you should get down here." "I will. I'm coming. I just--" "What?" Mulder realized he was talking to a man who probably had his suit pressed for the funeral tomorrow. "I just can't believe it." Mulder wondered what he would say when he saw just how slight a miracle it was. Scully lived, but just barely. "You knew," Ethan marveled. "No," Mulder corrected him. "I hoped." ~*~*~*~ Mulder rounded the curtain and found a different sort of redhead. This one was taller than Scully, dressed more like a hippie than a special agent. She held a crystal over Scully as if in prayer. "I've been told not to call you Fox," she said, turning to look at him. "By who?" "Dana, just now." Mulder started forward. "Dana talked to you just now? If she talked, there would be movement on the machines." "Her soul is here," the woman told him as she held her hands over Scully's body. Sharp footsteps echoed on the hard floor and Maggie Scully appeared. "Hi Mom," Melissa said softly. "I'm glad you could come, Melissa." Mulder looked from one to the other. "You're Scully's sister?" Melissa returned her hands to their original hovering position over Scully. "Dana is choosing whether to remain or move on." Maggie Scully turned on her heel and left in disgust. "You can feel her right here," Melissa told Mulder, taking his arm. He tentatively held out his hands next to her. He closed his eyes and waited to feel something, anything. "She's not here." "Your anger, your fear is blocking the positive emotions she needs to feel." Mulder gave up. "I need to do more than just wave my hands in the air," he said as he left. He ran into Ethan in the hallway on the way out. Ethan's hair stood on end and his tie hung loose around his neck. He grabbed Mulder at the middle, halting his exit march. "Hey, hey. Where are you going?" Mulder shook his head. "There's nothing for me to do here right now." "You know something? You have a lead?" Ethan searched him with wild eyes, and Mulder wondered if he was about to pick up a shadow again. "Go be with Dana," he said, placing his hands on Ethan's shoulders. "I'll be back in a while." "I'll go with you." Mulder eased back in surprise. "Don't you want to see her?" Ethan couldn't look at him. "I'm not sure if I can." "Why not?" "I don't want her to know..." He could not seem to finish, swallowing hard in quick succession, but Mulder guessed where his thoughts were headed. Scully had been dead for him. Now she was alive with his fingerprints all over her headstone. "You're here now," Mulder told him. "That's what she needs to know." Ethan nodded. "You're right. You're right." Bright eyes met Mulder's. "She's down this way?" "Right down the hall and take a left." Mulder stood and watched as Ethan shuffled down the long corridor, taking baby steps into his brave new world. ~*~*~ Around nine that night, Scully's family made the decision to terminate life support according to the criteria Scully had laid out in her living will. She was unresponsive, showed little sign of brain activity and her organs were failing. Mulder was not there when they disconnected the machines. He had signed her will as a witness never believing he would have to carry out its terms. Thirty year-old women were not supposed to end up tethered to tubes and wires and chirping metal boxes. He would not witness her death. Later, he got the call from Ethan. "She's breathing," he said. "She's breathing on her own." At the news, Mulder breathed as well. Scully was not going to make her pre-scheduled funeral. Mulder spent less time at the hospital and more time running through parking garages, chasing faceless men with Scully's blood on their hands. Skinner was not impressed with his martyr complex. "We're not the mafia, Agent Mulder. I know it's easy to forget but we work for the department of law and justice." "That's what I want," Mulder ground out. "Agent Scully was a fine officer," answered Skinner, and Mulder reeled, shaken from his easy use of the past tense to describe Scully. "More than that, I liked her. I respected her. We all know the field we play in, and we all know the potential consequences of the game. If you were unprepared for that, then you shouldn't step on the field." It was the closest Skinner had come to acknowledging the smoke-filled conspiracy that stained his inner office. "What if," Mulder said, and hesitated, "what if I knew the potential consequences but I never told her?" "Then you're as much to blame for her condition as the Cancer Man." Mulder became more reckless then, not exactly suicidal but not considering his personal safety either. He came on like the last reel of a John Wayne movie, guns blazing, ready to kill or be killed. Why her? he asked the Smoking Man. Why her instead of me? If he died then just maybe she would live. Surely there was a law of physics that could make it so. He would become a ghost, an ex X-file, he would be anti-matter to her matter. Because Scully always mattered. X marked the spot: Mulder's apartment at eight-seventeen. The men who took Scully from Skyland Mountain would pay him an arranged visit, and Mulder was free to defend himself with "terminal intensity." He could have bloodshed but no answers. He would burn like Rome and disappear like Atlantis. Whatever it took to bring them down, whatever price he had to pay, Mulder would take the hit. This was his living will. And he bequeathed vengeance. ~*~*~ Mulder walked through his apartment turning off the lights one by one until he moved in total darkness. Dressed in black, he faded into the shadows with his gun. It felt smooth and heavy as a stone, cold metal turned white-hot from his fevered skin. Mulder set it on the table and watched the glint of light from its shining barrel. In the silence, he could hear his clock ticking down the seconds. Mulder waited, poised to kill. He jumped a mile when someone knocked. The clock read seven-oh-nine, which was way too soon. But who could trust hired goons to be punctual? Heart thudding against his ribs, Mulder opened the door a few inches and looked out into the hall. Scully's taller, flakier sister was standing there. Mulder looked behind her for any men in black. "Sorry. I came by," she said. "You weren't answering and your machine wasn't on. Can I come in?" Mulder just stared at her. "For a second?" Mulder relented and let her into his apartment. "Why is it so dark in here?" she asked. "Because the lights aren't on," Mulder answered, mindful of the time. "Okay. I just came from the hospital. Dr. Daly says she's weakening. It could be anytime. So I figured you'd want to come down and see her." "No, I can't." Scully's sister blinked at him. "Well, I'd think that you would." "Yeah, I would. I can't, not right now." This woman did not understand. Scully had plenty of people to stand around her bedside, weeping. Only he could avenge her. "Listen," Melissa said, getting right up in his face, "I don't have to be psychic to see that you're in a very dark place... much darker than where my sister is. Willingly walking deeper into darkness cannot help her at all. Only the light..." "Enough with the harmonic convergence crap, okay? You're not saying anything to me." "Why don't you just drop your cynicism and your paranoia and your defeat. You know, just because it's positive and good doesn't make it silly or trite! Why is it so much easier for you to run around trying to get even than just expressing to her how you feel? I expect more from you. Dana expects more." She unlatched the door in a quick, angry motion. "Even if it doesn't bring her back, at least she'll know. And so will you." ~*~*~*~ Mulder felt a little like a mole testing the sunshine as he walked into the bright hospital waiting room. Melissa's mouth curved into a slight smile but she lowered her gaze to magazine in her lap. Maggie looked exhausted. Strangely, the one most glad to see him was Ethan, who leapt to his feet. "Mulder, hey." His shirttails out, tie long gone, and two days' growth of beard shadowing his chin, Ethan looked more like a back alley bum than a national news correspondent. "Ethan," Mulder said shortly, nodding at him. That was enough greeting for him, but Ethan shook his hand and pulled him closer. "Glad you could make it." "How is she?" "Not good. The doctors are telling us it could be hours, could be days. The waiting is making me insane, you know?" He lowered his voice. "Listen, I wanted to ask you -- in your work, did you ever find out anything about whether Dana is likely to be able to hear us?" Mulder lowered his voice too. "You mean from out here?" "No, from her coma. Her sister keeps going on about souls and how Dana is here with us listening to everything we say." Mulder made eye contact with Melissa, who gave him a little wave. "What do you think?" he asked Ethan. Ethan faltered. "I-- sometimes I think I can feel her. But I've had thirty-two cups of coffee in two days. I'd hate to think I'm just talking to the caffeine." Mulder figured Ethan had just summed up everyone's worst fears about religion. Ethan watched Mulder's face carefully. "What do you think?" he asked. "I think," Mulder said, trying to decide what he thought. He touched Ethan's slumping shoulder. "I think, whether or not she hears the words, at least you got to say them." Ethan thought this over a moment and then nodded. He patted Mulder on the back a few times and returned to his slouch on the sofa. Mulder locked eyes with Maggie Scully, who gave him a sympathetic look before leading him with her gaze to the ICU. Mulder acknowledged her with a short dip of his head. It was time for him to have his say. When he went to sit with Scully, the first thing he noticed was how much quieter it was with all the machines turned off. Scully was laid out as if already dead, totally uncovered. He looked but could not even detect the faint rise-and-fall of her chest. Mulder dragged the chair closer and took a seat. After a moment, he reached for her hand, which was cool and soft in his. His voice wavered as he spoke. "I feel, Scully... that you believe... you're not ready to go. And you've always had the strength of your beliefs. I don't know if my being here... will help bring you back. But I'm here." The time was eight-seventeen. ~*~ Mulder waited all night, doing hard time in the chair until his knees locked. Family and doctors floated by but Scully's condition remained unchanged. Melissa entered just before two in the morning and performed her personal assessment with the crystal. "Dana's worried about you," she said with her eyes closed. Mulder sat up, blinking to force himself to attention. "What?" "She's worried you'll be left alone again with no one to watch out for you." Melissa opened her eyes and looked right at him. "She's afraid to leave." Mulder stared at the empty space between Melissa's hands and Scully's body, as if he could conjure up Scully's soul like a genie swirling from an ancient lamp. "She won't leave unless you say it's okay," Melissa said as she lowered her hands to her sides again. "It's not okay," Mulder shot back in an angry whisper. "As her sister, I don't know how you can ever think it would be okay." Melissa shook her head sadly. "Is this what you want for her? You want her to linger endlessly in this room with no windows, no sunshine? They've disconnected the feeding tube, Mulder. She's now going to starve along with everything else that has happened to her." Mulder held his head in his hands. Skinner had blamed him for Scully's life; Melissa wanted to make him responsible for her death. "I can't," he said, his voice cracking. He squeezed his eyes closed, heard the blood rushing in his ears. Melissa touched his shoulder briefly before leaving the room. Mulder sat for five more hours, watching Scully for any sign of improvement. He memorized the angle of her nose and the curve of her ear. He stroked the inside of her wrist with one fingertip. Just past seven, he hoisted himself like an old man from the chair. His throat closed off; he could not say the words. He reached down and squeezed Scully's hand hard, the way he had challenged her with a forceful handshake in the basement that first day a year ago. Then he released her with a reassuring pat. And, without a last look back, Mulder left. ~*~*~ For Scully, it was like being born again. She came from nothingness into a bright, noisy world that smelled like skinned knees and Clorox. Voices murmured around her but she could not make out what they were saying. She could not move. Scully blinked at the white, blank-slate ceiling and tried to put a name to this place. She wondered briefly if she had died, if heaven was like earth with the volume turned way up. Part of her wanted to crawl back to the darkness and make it go away. A woman came over, someone Scully did not recognize, and peered down at her. "Call Dr. Daly," she said sharply. Doctor, Scully thought. I am a doctor. A few minutes later there was another face, this one lined with worry and bathed in tears of joy. Scully smiled. "Mom." ~*~~*~ Mulder sat in the disarray of his apartment, life literally in shambles at his feet. The men who kidnapped Scully had come and gone, scattering like cockroaches in the sun, and Mulder knew he would never find them again. He was exhausted from his toes to the roots of his hair, but he could not sleep. He hung in limbo like Scully and waited for word of his fate. When it came, he almost couldn't answer the call. His machine picked up. Mulder grabbed the phone at the last minute. He did not want Scully's family to have to tell his machine that she had died. "I'm here," he said. "Fox," said Maggie, her voice clogged with tears. Mulder braced himself for the news. "Dana's awake. She's awake and she's okay." A smile spread across his face like dawn. "I'm on my way," he told her. Mulder stood up, ran his hand through his hair, and tried to think what to bring. He grabbed his jacket, her cross, and at the last second, he popped Ethan's tape out of the VCR and stuck it in the nearest sleeve. She would watch it and she would understand. Outside, fall greeted him with a stiff breeze and scraggly, waving tree branches. Morning sunshine bore down like Hollywood lights and the sky was so blue it hurt to look at. Mulder stopped to squint up, imagining earth from far away - a shiny blue jewel spinning, spinning through space as five billion nobodies went about their short little lives. "Thanks," he said. ~*~*~ The hospital staff moved her to a private room filled with soft color and sunlight. Scully fiddled with the edge of the sheet as she waited for the doctor and tried to make sense of her situation. She was in the hospital, had been critically ill; this much was clear. Her arms and legs felt weak, and she grew dizzy if she moved her head too fast. Scully reached for her glass of water and sipped through a straw. She noted needle marks on both hands. Her throat was raw and sore. Clearly she had been intubated at some point. There was a soft knock on the door, and Scully set the water aside and leaned back against the pillows. "Come in," she said as loudly as she could. Ethan poked his head into the room. "Hi," he said, giving her a shy smile. "Remember me?" "Of course." But her heart started beating crazily as he entered the room. She remembered him but many other things remained unclear. The last image she could recall with certainty was Duane Barry's face as he locked her in the trunk of a car. Her car? His? She could not be sure. Her brain had filled up with water and her memories all sloshed together in a thick, muddy soup. Ethan sat on the bed near her hip. "How are you feeling?" He spoke in the same, careful tone the nurses had used, like she was a recently captured circus freak. Scully's hands went to her face. "I'm fine, I think." She felt her cool forehead, her smooth cheeks, and her small pointed chin. Nothing seemed out of place, but Ethan was still having a hard time looking at her. "Do you have a mirror?" Surprise, then worry, flashed in his eyes. "A mirror? No. Why?" "I'd like to see a mirror, please." "Dana..." "Now," she said, growing more frantic. "Okay, shhh." He touched her knee through the blankets. "I'll find a mirror, okay? Just take it easy." He ducked into her bathroom and out again. "I'll be right back." A few minutes later he returned with a blue plastic hand mirror, which he gave to her. "See?" he said as she flipped it over to look at herself. "You're okay." Relief tumbled over her like an avalanche. Pale though she was, her skin showed no scarring or other signs of disfigurement. She set the mirror in her lap and gave Ethan a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry. Everyone has been so cautious with me, like there's something they haven't wanted to say. I think I just panicked a little." There was that look again. "Understandable. You've been through a lot." Scully watched his face closely. "But there is something you're not telling me." "I haven't told you I love you," he said, squeezing her free hand. "Not today." Scully barely heard him. A sudden thought had her grabbing for the mirror again. "My hair," she said, touching the ends. "It's so long. When did it get so long?" Ethan avoided her eyes. "How long have I been here?" she asked. "Ethan? The doctor told me it was only a few days!" "He didn't lie. You've been in the hospital since Monday. Today is Thursday." "Ethan..." "You were missing," he said softly. He looked at her. "For a long time." "How long?" He swallowed. "Months. Since May." "That's not possible." "Sweetheart, listen to me..." "No, I don't understand." She heard the hard edge of fear in her voice. "What do you mean I was missing? What happened? Where was I?" "We don't know." He rubbed her leg. "Someone brought you here Monday in critical condition and that's all we can figure out right now. Mulder might be able to tell you more." "Duane Barry?" Ethan bowed his head. "He's dead, killed in police custody." Scully let that sink in for a minute. "Mulder...?" "No," he told her quickly. "Not Mulder." "Is he okay?" "He's just fine. Your mom said he's coming to see you soon." He smiled at her brightly, as if to distract her like a toddler with a shiny object. "We're all just so glad you're okay." He felt alien in her arms, misshapen and hot, like they didn't quite fit. Scully could not breathe. She knew herself. She was a serious, dependable person. She took notes and worked hard. She had been born on her exact due date and had been meeting every expectation ever since. This person he was telling her about, this Dana Scully who vanished from the Earth for months at a time, this was someone else. She wrested free from Ethan and reached for her water. This time she bypassed the straw and drank it down in long gulps. "I have something for you," Ethan said when she finally stopped drinking. Scully watched warily as he withdrew a diamond ring from his pocket. He put it in his palm and extended it to her. She remembered saying yes. She remembered putting it on. But as she stared down at the sparkling gem, she wondered why in the world she had taken it off. ~*~*~*~ Mulder hurried down the shiny floor of the hallway to Scully's new room, a thousand words stuck in his throat. Scully was always the one who needed to see the proof to believe, but this time Mulder wanted hard evidence. He wanted to see her, hear her, feel her. Only then could it be real. He reached the door and drew to a quick halt. Scully lay inside, but her mother and her sister appeared to be with her. So much for a private reunion. Mulder clutched the bag with his video in it and gamely entered the room. Maggie gave him a warm smile in greeting. "Hello, Fox." Scully laughed and turned to look at him. "Not Fox, Mulder." Mulder knew he was standing there grinning stupidly but he could not help it. He tried to hide behind his baggie as he willed his mouth to say something. "How you feeling?" "Mulder, I don't remember anything... after Duane Barry..." "Doesn't... doesn't matter." Scully sighed, and he held up the bag. "Brought you a present." He pulled out the tape Ethan made, which was now well camouflaged. With her mother and sister openly listening to every word they said, he was just as glad. He smiled and gave Scully the tape. "Superstars of the Super Bowl." "I knew there was a reason to live," Scully said as she eyed the cover. Melissa and Mrs. Scully made no move to leave. Mulder waited another beat and then gave up for the moment. "I know you want to get some rest, I... just came by to see... how you were doing and say hi."He held her hand, which was reassuringly warm. "Mulder?" she said as he turned to leave. Mulder waited. "I had the strength of your beliefs." Warmth spread over the back of his neck and tickled his ears. He nodded and dug in his pocket for the delicate gold chain he'd been carrying around with him for over three months. "I was holding this for you," he explained, reaching out to give her the cross. Scully studied it solemnly. "Thanks." Mulder smiled. Everything else could wait. ~*~*~ Melissa came to tuck her in before going home for the night. "I can't believe you're not exhausted," she said, brushing Scully's hair from her eyes. Scully was exhausted. She was afraid if she went to sleep she might wake up in the year 2000, if she woke up at all. "I've been sleeping for the past few days," she said lightly. "Now I'm making up for lost time." Sadness crept into Melissa's smile at the words, and she squeezed Scully's hands in both of hers. "You're stronger than you know," she said. "Remember that." "The strange thing is, I feel pretty much the same. Everyone else seems different." Melissa arched an eyebrow. "Everyone?" "You'll never change," Scully answered with affection. "It's just... I don't know. I feel like I woke up from one very long dream, like no time has passed, but everyone else has moved on to this new world where I was dead and then alive again. Everyone walks on eggshells around me." "You scared us. All of us. It's going to take time for that fear to fade." Melissa stroked her arm. "Tell me -- what did you dream? While you were gone?" Scully coiled back. "Why?" "Dana, you were on the other side. You could see what none of us can see." The images were there, fragments of her dream. She saw large gray heads with oil-slick eyes and heard the whine of a dentist's drill. She heard herself screaming but no sound seemed to come out. The light blinded her and Duane Barry's hysterical laughter echoed through her head. Sometimes, she caught other glimpses. She was in the front seat of a car with Mulder on some dark street, sharing bad coffee and late night talk radio. Once she thought she was making love to him in a jungle. The feel of him moving over her, inside of her, seemed so real she had a hard time making eye contact when he dropped by to see her that day. But she also had the strong feeling she had been pregnant. This was clearly wrong because the doctors would have noticed if she had given birth. Still, Scully caught herself touching her belly and wondering why it felt so empty. She opened her mouth to speak, and Melissa leaned closer, watching her intently with expectant, shining eyes. "I don't know what to say," Scully whispered. Melissa tried to hide her disappointment. "Sweetie, forget about it. I'm sorry for pushing." The rational scientist in Scully knew her hazy journey was probably nothing more than a random firing of synapses, her brain's dying gasp as it sputtered out all her hopes and fears and dreams. "It's... peaceful," she stammered, and Melissa lowered herself to the bed again. "Dana, I just want to know... was Daddy there? Did you see Daddy?" Scully smiled through her tears and grabbed her sister's hands. "He's there," she told her, and the two sisters held each other tight. ~*~*~ Mulder was snoozing in front of the TV when his cell phone rang. The lighted display read after midnight. It also said, "Georgetown Medical Center." "Mulder," he said, putting his feet up on the coffee table. "Mulder, it's me." Mulder smiled and held the phone closer to his ear. For months, it had sat near-silent in his pocket. He hadn't even realized how much he'd missed these late-night conversations with her until he heard her roughened voice on the line. "Scully, how are you?" "I'm okay. I can't sleep." "You want some company? I can be there in half an hour." "Mulder, it's late. You don't need to come all the way down here." "I already have my shoes on," he lied. "It's past visiting hours." "Yeah, but you're official FBI business, Scully." He could swear he heard her smile. Mulder shoved his feet into his sneakers and reached for his leather jacket. "You want me to bring anything?" She considered. "Ice cream." Mulder arrived at the hospital forty-five minutes later, carrying a half-gallon of chocolate chip ice cream and a box of plastic spoons. He knocked softly just in case Scully was asleep, but she sat up and beckoned him inside the room. "Hey," he said, still wearing his stupid grin. "I got a rush order for some ice cream?" "Hi," Scully answered as she tucked her hair behind both ears. "Thanks for coming." He pulled the chair alongside her bed and set the ice cream between them. Scully removed the lid, licking a stray bit from her thumb while he opened the spoons. He held up his spoon to hers. "Cheers." Scully took the first bite, and a slow smile spread across her face as she tasted combination of cold vanilla and dark chocolate. "This is just what I wanted. Thank you." "Hospital food not getting it done for you?" "The creamed spinach here is enough to make one want to go back to eating through a tube." Mulder put his spoon down, and she looked at him. "It's a joke, Mulder." "Yeah." He forced a smile. "Joke." But the light moment had died, and there they sat each clutching a spoon and not saying anything. "I want you to know," he managed finally, "that I did everything I could." "I know you did," she replied, too quickly. She wanted him to stop talking, he knew, but he could not stop yet. "I wish I could have done more. I wish I could have stopped him--" "Mulder." She waited until he looked at her. "It's not your fault. I don't blame you." "Maybe you should." She shook her head slowly back and forth, her gaze clear and calm. Mulder took a deep breath. "Scully." He had to explain even if she hated him for it. "You never believed. I knew that. I should have tried harder to make you understand what kind of people we're dealing with here, to let you know what can happen." Her brow furrowed. "Duane Barry was an escaped mental patient, Mulder. His illness was not your fault." "Scully, Duane Barry died." "I know. Ethan told me." She smoothed the blankets over her lap. She still wasn't hearing him. "He died the night you disappeared, Scully. He's not responsible for what happened to you. Well, maybe indirectly, but there were far more insidious plans at work here." "Plans? He was a homicidal maniac." "Someone gave him your address." Fear clouded her eyes, and he felt like a monster. She was barely out of a coma and here he was scaring her half to death again. But she had to understand. He could not make the same mistake twice. "The smoking man warned me," Mulder told her softly. "Right before it happened, he came to see me and said there would be consequences." "Consequences to what?" The question seemed to pain her, but she asked it anyway. He didn't think he had ever loved her more. Mulder leaned closer. "To our partnership. To getting closer to the truth and exposing these men for what they are." He paused, suddenly uncertain. "Maybe...maybe to what happened in Arecibo." "What happened in Arecibo?" Mulder jerked upright. "What?" "I said what happened in Arecibo?" He rocked his chair back and ran a hand through his hair. "Mulder?" "Uh, you don't remember being in Arecibo?" She seemed to search herself. "An observatory, maybe? Were we at an observatory? I'm sorry, Mulder, but some things are very hazy for me now." Mulder's heart was pounding in his ears. He felt light- headed; his tongue swelled in his mouth. He had no freaking clue what the protocol was here. "Yes," he said at last. "We were at the observatory." "What happened?" "Nothing." "Mulder? I don't understand." He set his chair down with a jolt. "The usual business. We got chased by men with guns but ended up with no hard proof." He stared at her for a long minute. "You really don't remember?" "I--I'm trying." She was getting upset again. "Forget about it," he said, but the words came out more angrily than he intended. "It doesn't matter now." "I'm sorry," she said, tears in her throat. "I keep trying to figure out what was real and what's not and what's happened to me." "Hey, it's all right." Mulder was instantly contrite. "It's okay." He squeezed her hand and tried to sound encouraging. "You're home safe now, and that's what matters, right? That's the only thing that matters." She blinked rapidly and sniffed, but she still would not look at him. Horrible as it was, he was trying to think of a reason to leave. He had no idea what to say to her and he was afraid if he stayed he would only make things worse. Scully composed herself and put the lid back on the ice cream. "The doctor says my memories might come back." "Sure. Sure they will." Her right hand started shaking. He grabbed it and held on tight, stilling her tremor. "That's been happening on and off," she told him. "My muscles are somewhat weak." "I'm sorry, Scully." "You know, it's funny how the motor system works," she said, her gaze still on their joined hands. "It's a release of inhibition that governs most of our movement. Did you know that?" He shook his head. "It's true. Your body would shake and flail around if not for the brain putting on a constant brake. When you move, the brain takes off just the tiniest bit of control. It's amazing how the smallest amount of release allows us to run, to paint pictures, to perform open heart surgery." She turned over their hands. "I've lived my life like that. I've spent so much time under the brake. Everyone else set the rules, and I just knuckled under. Maybe I never really wanted out. Until now." She looked at him. "Until I met you." Mulder gave her a half-smile, which she returned. He squeezed her hand tightly once more and then released her. Her hand started trembling again but she made no effort to stop it. "Night, Scully." She was settling back down under the covers, eyes already drifting shut. "Night." ~*~*~ The dread in her stomach started the minute Ethan appeared to take her home. This isn't working. You have to tell him. He kissed her cheek and took her overnight bag, her flowers, and even the videotape from Mulder. "Hey, beautiful," he said. "Going my way?" "You really didn't have to take off work to come down here," she said with a frown. "Of course I did. You ready to go home?" Home. She could not believe how long it had been since she'd been there. "Yes," she said, clearing her throat. "Please." "I haven't touched anything," he assured her on the way back. "I didn't even throw out that horrible green vase." Scully did not answer. Tell him, she thought. Tell him now. "Dana?" "Hmm?" "You okay?" "I'm fine," she said, trying to smile. She looked down at her hands twisting her in lap. Her naked ring finger mocked her: coward. I took it off once, she told herself. Ethan parked the car and helped her into the house. Scully stopped just inside the door, staring at the familiar walls. Duane Barry had been here. She felt him even though she could not remember the encounter. "I'll put your things in the bedroom," Ethan said, brushing passed her. "You just rest." Scully walked around her living room, touching her clock, her papers, her books. "Where do you want this?" Ethan asked as he returned. He waved Mulder's Superstars tape at her. "Um, in the drawer in the TV cabinet, I guess." "You hungry?" Ethan asked. "I can make sandwiches." God, how was she supposed to say the words? Scully backed up to the wall and watched him walk to the kitchen. He was more comfortable here than she was. It was his home. Her heart beat faster. Her throat went dry. "We've got turkey or roast beef," Ethan called. Tell him. You have to tell him. Scully squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to vomit. When she did not answer him, Ethan stuck his head back into the room. "Dana? Are you all right?" "This isn't working," she blurted. Ethan's brown eyes, so warm and familiar, filled with concern. He crossed the room and touched her arm. "You should come sit down and take it easy." "No," Scully said, shrugging him off. "Ethan..." "Is it the pain? Do you need your pills?" He was already heading for her bag again. "Ethan!" He stopped and turned around. "What?" "I need... I need to talk to you." All of a sudden, she did want to sit down. It was that or risk passing out. Ethan joined her on the sofa. "What is it?" Again, Scully stumbled over the words. "You are being so nice," she said sadly. "You really are, and I appreciate it so much." "I love you." He rubbed her arm affectionately. "You've been through a lot." He was not making this easy. Hell, it was never going to be easy. Scully sucked in a fresh breath and tried to work up her nerve. You took off the ring, she told herself. You had a reason. "This is hard to say," she began. "Especially now. I just think if I waited any longer it would just get more difficult." "What? What in the world could be this awful?" She took his ring out and handed it back to him. "I can't marry you." Ethan looked down at the diamond glinting in his palm. "Of course not. Not right now. We can reschedule for anytime you want. Right now you just need to rest and get your strength back up." "No, I mean I can't marry you." Realization dawned and he looked stunned. Scully felt her chin tremble and worked to get control. It wasn't fair to Ethan to have her sobbing through this conversation. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I really am." Ethan shifted on the couch. "Dana, I know you've been through a lot. You just got out of the hospital. You need time." "No." Ethan closed his fingers over the ring. "It's too soon," he repeated. No. It's too late, Scully thought. She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I am so, so sorry, Ethan. You are the last person I ever wanted to hurt." "Why?" he demanded. "Tell me why." Scully struggled to explain. "The person you gave that ring to, she doesn't exist." "That's exactly why we should wait. Of course you feel not like yourself right now. But you're home now. Give it time." "I don't need time. This isn't about what happened to me." "Of course it is." "No, it's not. Ethan, I care about you. That's why I'm doing this now." "Oh, don't give me that crap. Give me something more besides the old it's-not-you-it's-me hoary chestnut." "I'm just trying to give you the truth," answered Scully miserably. "Is it Mulder?" he asked with sudden venom. Scully balked. "Mulder?" "It is Mulder, isn't it." "No," she said, sounding unsure. "God." He stood up and began pacing. "He'll never love you more than aliens. You know that, right?" "This isn't about Mulder. Not like you think." "Oh? Tell me how it is, then." Scully rubbed her eyes. "You want a house outside the city," she said. "You want two kids and a pool and barbecues on the weekends. When I met you, I wanted that too." "But now you want aliens. Is that what you're telling me?" She looked at him, pleading with her eyes to understand. "I was gone for almost four months," she said. Her voice was unsteady. "No one can tell me what happened. Not you. Not the police. Not the doctors. Someone was holding me captive, doing God knows what, and I have no memory of who or why." "This is what I was saying," he said as he moved toward her. He knelt in front of her. "You've been through hell. You shouldn't be making these kinds of decisions right now." "I made it before." From the look that flashed across his features, she knew he understood immediately what she was talking about. His hands dropped away from her knees. Defeated, he sat back on his haunches. "I wondered about that." "You deserve the life you wanted," she told him quietly. "I don't think I can give it to you." "You're what I want." She shook her head. "For now, maybe. But a year from now, when I have to go out of town for the third time in three weeks? That house, that pool, those kids -- Ethan, you need someone there to share them with you." "I can't believe," he said, "that after everything that's happened, that you still want to work on the X-Files." "That's just it. Now more than ever." "Mulder doesn't know what happened to you either," Ethan said petulantly. "No. But I think, if anyone, he can help me find the answers." ~*~*~ Gray November drizzle trickled down the basement windows as Mulder sat at his computer playing his six hundred thousandth game of Mine Sweeper. He started the conversation in his head several times. "Scully, about Arecibo. After the men with guns chased us, we had sex." "Scully, you probably should know that we've seen each other naked. Did I mention I have a photographic memory?" "Scully? We went to the jungle and made hot monkey love." Mulder turned his chair around in disgust. The sex was so great she totally forgot about it, he told himself. She remembers a giant flukeworm but not you. The sound of heels in the hallway made him sit up. To his surprise, Scully appeared. "At least I still remember where the office is," she said. "That's something." And the sex? Mulder asked mentally. Not even a glimmer? "You shouldn't be here," he said aloud. "You don't want to rush things, Scully. Take all the time you need." Scully ignored him. "What are you working on?" She turned the top file around before he could snatch it away. Dana K. Scully, it read. Scully flipped open the cover and read the contents silently. "Looks like the trail's gone cold," she remarked with clinical detachment. "For now. But at least there's a happy ending." Their eyes met and he smiled. She sat on the edge of his desk with the folder braced in her lap. "You should probably know," she said, "Ethan and I broke up." Mulder tried not to fall out of his chair. She remembers, he thought. "Oh?" "Yeah." She traced the smooth edge of the wood by her hip. "I think I did the right thing." "But you're not sure?" "I'm pretty sure." She hesitated a long time. "I'm missing so much right now. I keep wondering - what if two months from now, I remember that I love him?" "Why risk it, then? You have time." She shook her head. "I took off the ring," she said. "Excuse me?" She held out her naked hand. "The engagement ring. I took it off before I... before. I think that would be worse, you know? Staying and then remembering suddenly why." Mulder choked. "Yeah," he croaked out, reaching for his coffee. "Mulder..." she said after a long minute. "Yeah?" "Never mind." Her cheeks colored. "Forget it." "No, what?" "It's nothing." Scully hopped down from the desk and held out the folder. "What happens to this now?" "I think that's up to you," he replied, looking past her to their filing cabinets. One half was labeled "open" and the other side was marked "closed." Scully tapped the folder on her palm, considering. Finally, she crossed to the "open" cabinets and slipped her case file into the appropriate drawer. "Okay," she said, drawing a long breath as she turned to face him. "What's next?" ~*~*~*~*~ An End. Thanks as always to Amanda for valuable help along the way! In my mind, Mulder was always naked. Does that count? "Universal Invariants" has always had a planned sequel, set later on in the series. Coming soonish to a website near you! If you made it to the end, I'd love to hear what you thought. I'll be the one over here in the Red Sox T-shirt cheering madly --_ syn_tax6@yahoo.com