TITLE: Reprieve AUTHOR: Wylfcynne E-MAIL ADDRESS: Wylfcynne@aol.com SPOILERS: post-ep for Redux2 RATING: PG CLASSIFICATION: post-ep, MA, SA, MSR, UST SUMMARY: "My headache's back," she whispered. "I got dizzy in the shower and almost fell." DISCLAIMER: They certainly aren't mine; if they were, they'd be having more fun, and I wouldn't have to save up for a vacation! Mulder, Scully, Skinner and the rest belong to FOX Networks and 1013; I'm just borrowing them for a little fun and games. I promise I'll bring them back on time and unharmed, and they won't remember a thing. FEEDBACK: The Wylf howls at the moon for feedback! AUTHOR'S NOTES: This could not have been done without the constant inspiration from my friends on the lists, especially my beta-goddess Frohike51. The rest of you know who you are! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Happy Birthday, Agent Scully! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Reprieve by Wylfcynne Wednesday, 11:15am Down in his basement office, Fox Mulder relaxed in his seat and put his feet up on the desk. Life was back to normal. Scully was back at work something he had not dared to dream could ever happen. Her cancer was gone; the doctors, including Scully, called it remission, and he knew they were correct, but he called it GONE. Blevins was gone, too, but that did not make Mulder happy; Chief Blevins's suicide simply meant that the rot had infiltrated farther than he had dreamed. Not that he believed that Blevins had committed suicide. But he did not want to think about Blevins, or Cancerman, or anything about the Conspiracy. He closed his eyes, and flicked back through his photographic memory to review again, for the umpteenth time, hearing the news. ~~~~~~~ "Mulder, it worked." She was sitting up in bed smiling at him, her eyes sparkling as he had not seen for weeks. There was even color in her cheeks. He was frozen, unable to dare hope. "We did a PET scan half an hour ago. The tumor's shrunk by half. My headache's gone and my blood count's up. The chip worked. You did it." =The chip worked?!= His knees gave out and he landed beside her bed, his face buried against the mattress, fighting desperately not to burst into tears. Her fingers stroked through his hair, and he shivered in reaction to her delicate touch. "You saved me, Mulder. You did it." Her fingers slid around his skull, along his jaw, under his chin. Gentle pressure lifted his face, and he blinked at her, still trembling, still trying to maintain his composure. Her hands urged him closer and he could only obey. When she could get both hands on him, she pulled him closer and kissed him hard. When she let go of him he was as breathless as she was, staring at her, as stunned as if she had started suddenly speaking in tongues. He swallowed hard, fighting down a surge of arousal that was totally inappropriate for the time, place and circumstances. "S- Scully...?" "Do I stutter, Mulder? Or wasn't I perfectly clear?" His mouth opened once, twice, fighting to articulate what was roiling around in his head, but he couldn't do it. Instead, he let her pull him closer, moved to sit on the bed beside her, wrapped his arms around her and sobbed helplessly into her hair. When he finally did manage to pull himself away, ashamed of his loss of control, he found his shirt was wet and her face as tear- streaked as his own when she looked up. She was not shy at all, but as bold as a hungry cat, and that startled him all over again. "I have my life back, Mulder. I'm not wasting another moment of it. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?" ~~~~~~~ Mulder shifted in his chair. He had understood her perfectly; he had just been utterly surprised. That had been the beginning. He had been lost from the first touch of her lips. =Who am I kidding? I was lost the first time I saw her...= It had actually taken him several days to get up the nerve to ask her if this was just a reaction to her reprieve, was it just gratitude? Her response had been very clear, calmly explained in her inimitable scientist's voice, although her facade of calm had been belied by the sparkle in her eyes and the way they tracked down over his body. "No, Mulder," he remembered her words precisely, "this isn't just gratitude. I know I can't use sex to pay you back for saving my life, and you wouldn't accept it. I know you too well. I know that you love me; you know that I love you. We've always been able to rationalize reasons why we shouldn't consummate this relationship. None of them matter, anymore, Mulder; not to me." =Neither of us really understood that we were in love until we faced her death. Neither of us could discuss such an admission then. We were in too much pain: she was dying, I was dreading that finality... So we both kept quiet. But the nightmare's over; she's back, her whole life's before her, and she wants to spend it with me!= She had been back on duty for two weeks, still restrained from field status pending her doctor's approval. She was still underweight and her stamina had not yet been completely recouped. However, it was obvious to them all that significant progress was being made, ground steadily regained. It would not be long, now. Today, Mulder had not yet seen her; she had been asked to do an autopsy at Quantico this morning and they had a date to meet for lunch. He glanced at the clock and decided he had best get moving or he would be late reaching the restaurant. He dropped his feet to the floor and stood up out of the rickety swivel chair with the ease of long practice. The phone on his desk rang. He reached for it languidly; nothing mattered so much as meeting his partner for lunch. "Mulder." "Mulder...?" "Scully?" Her tone sent a drench of icy adrenaline through him. "What's wrong?" "I... I need you here. Now." "What's. Wrong." The next sound he heard terrified him. It was a stifled sob. "My headache's back," she whispered. "I got dizzy in the shower and almost fell." "I'm on my way. Stay there." He waited for her to reply. "Scully. Answer me." "I'll be here." Her voice was faint and he could hear her terror. *** The drive to Quantico went by in a blur; he could never afterward recall a single moment of it. His mind was raging against the injustice of it all. They had had only weeks since her reprieve; they had not yet even had the chance to consummate the newly- acknowledged level of their relationship. Time, her recovery and her menstrual cycle, erratic and unpredictable since her abduction, had conspired against them up till now. They had planned it for this weekend, a long, slow and sweet seduction. The rage helped him keep the fear under control, but he could feel it boiling, surging against the restraints he kept on it. He knew that if he surrendered to it he would be of no use to her or to himself. He could keep himself together for her. He had to. *** FBI Laboratories, Quantico VA 12:11pm Mulder left his car illegally parked at the front doors, went charging into the morgue area, knowing where he would find her: in the conference room where the pathologists held briefings. "Scully--?" For a moment he could not see her. Then he spotted her. She was curled up in the corner, her back against the wall and her face buried against her thighs, her arms wrapped around her head. He was beside her in a heartbeat. "Scully, I'm here. Scully..." She uncurled in a sudden burst of frantic energy and flung herself at him, wrapping herself around him, sobbing hysterically. He settled down on the floor, rocking her, hands stroking her hair and down her back, and he found himself crying, too. There were no words that could make this better. They sat in the shadows and drenched one another with their terror and their tears. *** He did not know how long it took, but eventually they both had to stop. They were too exhausted to continue. As she wilted against him, Mulder let himself relax against the wall for a moment. Then he freed one hand, wiped the tears off his face, fished out his handkerchief and gave it to her. She sat up, although she stayed in his lap, and wiped her eyes and nose. Then she wilted against him again. "I can't do it all again, Mulder..." she whispered. "I can't go through all that again..." "Don't give up, Scully. C'mon, I called your doctor from the car. He's waiting for us." She shuddered and clung to him. He stood up with her in his arms and she did not even notice that burst of testosterone. She buried her face in his chest and let him carry her out of the conference room. He had not taken three steps down the corridor when a voice stopped him. "Oh, my God! Agent Scully?!" Mulder turned. It was Agent Norma Taliaferro, the Quantico morgue supervisor. Norma took one look at Mulder's face and knew that whatever was wrong, it was serious. "Agent Mulder. Can I help?" Mulder was about to put her off, to insist that he could handle it, when he had a brainstorm. "Her doctor's waiting for us. Could you drive?" "Yes." "Thanks. My car's right outside the door." Norma just nodded. Mulder turned and headed that way. He heard Norma use her cell phone to call her second-in-command and let him know where she was going. Then she hurried ahead of them, held the door for Mulder so he could swing Scully through it without banging her head on the frame. "I left the keys in it," he told Norma when she looked up at him. She went to the driver's side, opened the car, and pushed the button on the armrest to open the other doors, then pulled the left rear open for Mulder. He slid in carefully, setting Scully down first, then moving her --as she clung to him relentlessly -- over far enough that he could sit beside her. He fastened her seat belt around her as Norma was adjusting the seat forward and fixing the mirrors so she could use them. She started the car and turned on the heat full-blast. "Agent Mulder? Where are we going?" "Trinity Hospital." "All right. You two relax." Mulder settled back after fastening his own seat belt, not expecting to be able to relax. Scully was holding onto him as if drowning. She was no longer crying, but her breathing was erratic. As the car went past the gate and onto the parkway, and Norma waved at the Marine guards, Scully began to cough. *** The drive took nearly an hour. Mulder was shocked that he survived it without any screaming or hysteria from Scully or himself. Scully coughed a lot during the trip; she used his handkerchief repeatedly to wipe her nose, but kept it folded and her eyes closed so that she could not see the blood. He made no attempt to check; he didn't want to see the blood, either. Norma drove the car up the emergency entrance ramp and parked in front of the emergency doors. Mulder unbuckled his seat belt and Scully's, and got out of the car. He leaned back in to take hold of Scully's wrists and pull her out gently. She stood, swaying, avoiding his eyes. Mulder closed the door behind her. "I'll park the car somewhere and bring you the keys, Mulder--" Norma spoke gently. He glanced at her and shook his head. "You can take the car back to Quantico, Norma. I'm not leaving here without her and we can call a cab. Thanks for the ride." "You're welcome, Mulder. I'll call Skinner for you, so he'll know where to find you." "Thanks; I never thought of that." "See you." "Bye, Norma." Scully's voice was a whisper. "Thank you, Norma." The Taurus pulled smoothly away. "Good luck," Norma waved out the window. Scully flinched, and clutched at her partner. "Mulder..." He hugged her gently. "Don't give up, Scully. Never give up. You won't be alone. I won't let you be alone." It took her a moment to get herself back under control, but then she squared her shoulders, straightened her back, and fought not to tremble. Her grip on Mulder's hand did not loosen, however. "Ready?" he asked softly. "As ready as I'll ever be," she sighed. Together they walked inside. *** Trinity Hospital 1:45pm Dr Flambert looked grim, but his tone was gentle. "What symptoms have you experienced, Dana?" "I have a screaming headache that came on very suddenly. It's not a migraine: no aura, and it's centered, not on one side or the other. My vision is currently unaffected, but after the autopsy I suffered a transient vertigo episode; I didn't fall, but it was close." He nodded thoughtfully. "All right. I've scheduled you for the PET scanner; you're on in about 40 minutes. In the meantime, let's draw some blood and get started on a CBC. You two stay here." With a compassionate glance at Mulder, he turned and left. It was only a few moments when one of his nurses came in with the kit. She was fast and efficient, and she did not engage in empty chatter; these were all contributing reasons to why she was one of Scully's favorite nurses. She drew four vials of blood in no time, labeled them and used a rubber band to keep them together. "I'll run these down to the lab myself, Dana," she promised. "We'll have prelims in no time." "Thanks, Francesca." Scully's voice was faint. Scully's panic had passed. Now, waiting was too much and she let go of Mulder to pace the tiny treatment room. Seated in the single chair in the corner, hunched over with his elbows on his knees and his head down, Mulder refrained from watching her and felt guilty about it. =I should treasure every moment we have, every glimpse of her...= But her pacing was getting on his nerves, and he suddenly realized why some of his repetitive behaviors made her crazy when she could not escape his proximity. He never even thought about it consciously; he simply could not ask anything of her now, not even something so simple as would she stop. If this was what she needed, he would have to put up with it. Whatever she needed, if it was within his power, it would be hers. Even if what she needed was a target. She turned on him suddenly. "What was I thinking?!" she nearly screamed. "A computer chip as a cure for cancer?! Could there be anything more pseudo-scientific, more infantile? Stupid, childish, pinning all my hopes on what is essentially magical thinking?! How could you do this to me?!" She attacked him physically, then, childishly, fists pounding on his head, on his shoulders, as she continued to rant. He just hunched over a little lower and took it. Part of his mind, the professional analyst, sat up in its ivory tower and observed that this was simply a necessary catharsis, not necessarily how she was really thinking. His psyche, wounded nearly to death as a child and barely healed, broke open and bled. Ever since his mother's gasp of horror when his sister was discovered to be missing, Mulder's emotional responses had always defaulted to guilt. This was no exception. He wrapped his arms around his body and bent before her, making no attempt to defend himself against either her accusations or her fists. =Is it all my fault? Was I deluded? Did I, in turn, delude her? God, Scully, I'm so sorry; this is all my fault...= "...I'msorryI'msorryI'm..." Scully froze, suddenly realizing what she was doing, suddenly conscious of what he was saying. =What th'--?!= All her rage vanished in the overwhelming need to take care of her partner. He was rocking back and forth, his eyes screwed shut and his voice an agonized moan as the words continued to repeat. "Mulder, no--" She reached for him with gentle hands and he cringed. Scully swallowed hard. He would accept her accusations, her castigation, even physical assault, but he could not allow himself to accept her comfort or forgiveness. Her rage resurfaced, aimed, as usual, at those nameless, faceless Old White Men who sat back in their smoke-filled room and calmly made decisions that required other people to bleed, suffer and die. =This is unacceptable!= She reached for him with both hands, setting her hands along his jaw on either side and forcing him to look at her as she had that first time in the hospital. "Mulder, look at me." He was shaking, but he obeyed. "Sc- Scully, I--" "It's not your fault it didn't work, Mulder," she said firmly. "I'm sorry: I should never have blamed you, not for a moment. It's not your fault." "I believed them; I convinced you..." "Why wouldn't we believe, Mulder? The plan made sense. You know I'm not that easy to convince." He snorted and straightened a little, regaining more control. They stared into one another's eyes for a long moment, and then she moved that one step closer, pulled his head against her body in a hug. He wrapped his arms around her, felt her bend over him and rest her cheek on top of his head. They clung to one another in silence, listening to one another breathe, until they heard the door open. They did not spring apart as if ashamed; they weren't. They just let go. Then Scully leaned down and kissed him lightly, before turning to face the nurse. The nurse was pushing a wheelchair in. "Time to go down for your scan, Miss Scully." "I don't need that." Mulder had to smile at the frosty tone of her voice; Scully was still fighting. The nurse shrugged. "Policy. Luxuriate in it." Mulder stood up, took the wheelchair from the nurse and brought it to Scully. "Your chariot awaits, my lady." Chuckling, she surrendered and sat down. Mulder wheeled her around and gestured at the nurse to lead. *** The PET scan was a routine they had all been through before. Mulder waited, forcing himself not to pace, and then pushed the wheelchair back to the examination room while Scully sat in it and said nothing at all. Waiting was getting to him; waiting for verdict in court had never been this nerve-wracking. =That's because it was never me who was on trial,= he reminded himself with a shudder. Scully stood up out of the wheelchair, came to stand in front of him where he sat. When he would have stood up out of the chair to offer it to her, she put her hands on his shoulders to stop him. "Just hold me, Mulder," she whispered. He wrapped his arms around her, set his face against her body, felt her hands in his hair as he listened to her heart beat. Neither of them spoke. What was there left to say? *** Afterward, neither Mulder nor Scully could say how long it took Dr Flambert to come in with the test results. When he did, Mulder felt Scully jerk in his arms and let her go so she could face the news. She did not leave the circle of her partner's arms, but stayed where she was to face the doctor. Mulder did not dare rise to his feet; he had the distinct feeling that his knees would betray him when Dr Flambert said the awful words. =This way I can catch her when she collapses. I've got your back, partner...= He had not felt this fragile before, but he knew that was because there had been so much else going on. Now there were no distractions: nothing but the horror of failure and inevitability... "Dana, your white cell count is somewhat elevated, but the other results all fit inside normal ranges. Even the elevated number isn't outrageous. But the PET films show the real answer." So saying, he slid a pair of films up onto the lightboard on the wall by the door. Drawn by her need to know, Scully took a couple of steps forward so she could see the films more closely. Mulder let his arms fall away from her but did not get up. Even from where he sat he could see that this film did not match the last ones taken before the doctor had finally employed the microchip: there was no solid blazing white chunk of cancer in the middle of her skull. He found himself trying to see Scully's face as she went closer and closer to the films, comparing them to one another, even lifting a hand to trace the location of the original tumor with a finger. Finally she turned to Dr Flambert. "What am I missing, here?" Flambert nodded. "You're not missing anything, Dana. Your cancer is still in remission. You have a sinus infection." She froze, but her jaw dropped in shock. Mulder found that he couldn't breathe; his lungs were locked. Dr Flambert chatted on, ignoring their reaction. "The original tumor may have messed up the normal circulation patterns through your sinuses; I assume you're not experienced with sinus infections?" "N-No. I'm not." Scully fought not to stutter. She was still staring at the PET films, trying to resolve her fears with the reassuring information displayed there. "The headache is from unrelieved pressure; the dizziness is normal when the infection progresses to the inner ear. I'll leave scrips for an antibiotic and a decongestant at reception. Go home, take a hot bath, and relax. You'll be fine in a few days, a week maybe." He looked across the room at Mulder. "Get her out of here, Mulder. I need to see some sick people." Dr Flambert did not wait to see how they reacted; he just walked out, leaving them alone. Mulder waited until the door closed behind the doctor. Then he stood up and walked slowly up behind her where she stood, still staring at the films. Slowly, gently, he lowered his hands onto her shoulders. She was trembling. "Scully. C'mon. Let's go home." She turned and crumbled into his arms, sobbing, and for the second time that day they cried together. This time they regained their control more quickly. It was only a few minutes before they parted and this time they were smiling as they wiped one another's faces dry with gentle fingers. "C'mon, Scully," Mulder spoke softly. "Let me take you home." She nodded, biting her lip to keep back more tears. "Please, Mulder. The headache really is hard to take." "We'll pick up your scrips and fill 'em on the way." He steered her toward the door of the examining room. Scully let him guide her as she fished for his handkerchief in her suit jacket pocket. It was only then that she actually allowed herself to look at it. She had imagined it blood-soaked, but it was not. Damp from being used almost constantly on the trip from Quantico, there was no blood at all. She shook her head in amazement and blew her nose, unable to hide a shudder of unease despite what she had seen on the PET scans herself. There was still no blood. Mulder kept his arm around her shoulders and walked her out, looking neither right nor left, trying not to look like he was hurrying. *** Mulder was going to call a cab, but found one leaving off a passenger at the main entrance and claimed it. The driver was delighted to get a return fare and did not grumble at the succession of stops: first at the drive-thru pharmacy window at the Rite Aid down the block from Scully's apartment, then to their favorite gourmet deli, back to the pharmacy to pick up her medicine, and only then to her apartment. Scully took their purchases and headed inside. Mulder paid the cabbie and then paused on the sidewalk to fish out his cell phone. "Assistant Director Skinner's office, Kim speaking, may I help you?" "This is Mulder; can I speak to him, Kim?" "Certainly, Agent Mulder; he's been waiting for your call. Agent Taliaferro did call, but she didn't have much information. Hold a moment." Mulder listened to the familiar set of clicks and then the equally familiar baritone was there. "Agent Mulder?" "Yes, sir. Agent Scully needs a week off on sick time; I'd like to stay with her, I guess mine can be comp time." Skinner blinked. That was awfully straightforward; Mulder always tried to stay with her when she was sick, but he had never stated his plans so plainly. "I believe that can be arranged, Agent Mulder. I hope Agent Scully is feeling better soon." He could not bring himself to ask, but when Taliaferro had called, she had described them both as 'devastated' and 'terrified.' The only thing he had ever seen that could do that to this pair of agents was Scully's cancer; the implication was clear. "She will," Mulder said confidently. "She has a sinus infection; the headache is bad and she's been having dizzy spells. The doctor said the infection's gotten into her inner ear. But he wrote a couple of prescriptions and told her to take it easy." Skinner felt a wave of relief and then realized what an emotional roller coaster both his agents must have endured this afternoon. Mulder sounded rather ragged. "Certainly, Agent Mulder. I'll expect you both back to work a week from Monday." "Thank you, sir!" Mulder was astonished; that was seven work days off. "Don't worry; by the time you get back, I'm sure I'll have something big and scaly or ectoplasmic for you to chase down." "Sounds like a plan, sir." Mulder could not help but grin. "Sounds like a plan. Thanks." He turned his phone off and then headed up the sidewalk toward Scully's apartment. He had wasted enough time with indecision. Nine days off from work could be a vacation... ...or a honeymoon. ======= feedback to: wylfcynne@aol.com Thanks!