TITLE: "Frozen Hearts" BY: Ten E-MAIL ADDRESS: kristena@ocean.com.au CATEGORY: Vignette, Torture, Angst and above all 'Trust me!' RATING: PG-13 SUMMARY: After being rescued in Antarctica, Scully wakes up alone. TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING: This branches into alternate universe (most definitely) after the scene where the UFO takes off in Antarctica near the end of "Fight the Future". ARCHIVE INFO: It goes to Gossamer through xff. Can be archived anywhere as long as my name, addy and disclaimer stay intact. FEEDBACK: I love to know who is out there in the ether! THANKS TO: Debbie, Suzanne, Sally, Judie, Gerry and Mac. My website for all my X-Files fanfiction, thanks to the wonderful Arria, is at: http://bitter-moon.com/tenxffic/index2.html And a new website is under construction at: http://ten.bitter-moon.com/xf DISCLAIMER: The X-Files, the episodes referred to, Mulder and Scully and all other characters from the show belong to Chris Carter and his team of writers, Ten Thirteen Productions and Fox Broadcasting, and are used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended, no profit will be gained. Characters not recognised from the show are mine. The X-Files: "Frozen Hearts" By Ten, July - October 2003 xXx Awareness returns. The room is warm. I can sense that. But somehow I feel so cold. Like I'll never be warm again. I open my eyes. A hospital. I look around the ward. No one is sitting beside me, and the other beds are empty. Mulder. Where's Mulder? A man, a doctor, is approaching me. "Where.?" is all I can get out. "It's okay, you're safe," the doctor says, and starts taking my pulse. I open my mouth to again ask where Mulder is, but the man jumps in first. "I'm Doctor Griggs. Can you tell me your name?" "Special Agent Dana Katherine Scully," I somehow manage to rattle off, adding heavy emphasis on my credentials in the hope that he will realise that he'd better stop asking questions and answer mine instead. Or else. My mouth is dry. I need a drink, which the man is reaching for, but first I get out: "My partner.. Where is he? I need to see him.." Griggs hesitates, then says, "Do you know where you are? Do you have any idea?" "I don't know or care where I am - WHERE IS MULDER?" If he's in the bathroom somewhere or in a separate room, my yell will probably bring him running, or get this doctor to bring him in. The man says gently, "I'm sorry, but Agent Mulder didn't make it. He's dead." I stare at him. Griggs elaborates, "When we found the two of you together out on the ice flow, we were too late to help Agent Mulder." "No, that can't be right! He can't be dead!" My voice is cracking, and not only from thirst. "I know it's difficult to accept," the doctor starts to say in a platitudinous tone. No. Mulder can't be dead. It has to be a nightmare or a mistake. "Where are we?" is all I can get out. The man tells me. This is an American research base in Antarctica. Antarctica? How on earth I ended up *here* on Earth would be something I'd be a lot more worried about, but.. "Mulder.." I whisper. Griggs offers me a cup of water and automatically I have a few mouthfuls. The doctor in me notes that one of my hands has an IV line. I've got heart monitor leads but no NG tube, so I can't have been here for too long. Apart from that, I am mostly free of tubes and wires - nothing complex or indicating serious injury. Then my brain stops with the medical and goes back to the emotional. Mulder. Dead. No, Mulder can't be - Griggs says, "Physically you're weak and very tired. Some bruising and mild frostbite, but you're not going to lose any appendages. Just be careful not to aggravate the frostbite - it's on your face. Otherwise, you're fine." Physically, anyway. "Amazingly you weren't even hypothermic. Agent Scully, what is the last thing you remember?" I stare at him. What if this man is part of the conspiracy and he's just telling me that Mulder is dead to see what information he can get out of me? I can remember telling Mulder that I had given Skinner my resignation. Mulder's passionate argument against my actions, and then how things took an even more passionate turn. Then the bee. Snatches of being somewhere cold and dark. Being carried by Mulder. Suddenly everything being cold and white instead of dark. Blindingly white. Mulder lying motionless beside me, and me desperately pulling him into my arms. I lie to the waiting doctor. "The last thing I remember is talking to Mulder at his apartment." "Do you know what the date is?" I tell him the date that it was when I resigned. "Add five days to that." Griggs is doing things like checking my heart and my responses. He says, "I know you've been through a terrible ordeal. You were stung by a bee at Agent Mulder's apartment and had some sort of reaction to it. Then you were kidnapped. That would be bad enough without being taken to a place as far flung as this." If he isn't a bad guy, I wonder who he thinks (or has been told) would take me all the way down here? And why? The doctor continues, "We were the base camp for Agent Mulder's rescue mission. He refused to take any of us with him - but left details in case he wasn't back by a certain time. That time had not elapsed when our seismic monitoring equipment picked up quite significant activity going on in the area he went into. A team was sent to investigate, including me. We found a huge crater that had somehow appeared and the two of you were lying nearby." He shakes his head in amazement, then continues, "We couldn't find anyone else. That was yesterday afternoon. It's the early hours of the morning here now. Our geologists are probably going to spend an all-nighter going over the data and pictures and will want to take an expedition out to the site. At the moment we get over nine hours of twilight here with just under seven hours of daylight, so they -" By the look on Griggs' face, he realises that he's chattering on too much and stops. "Mulder can't be dead," I reiterate. That belief is keeping my tears and grief at bay. I remember all those other times I've been certain that he has been dead, only to have him come back again. "I'm sorry. I was one of the ones who prepped him before he left base - we made sure he had the right equipment, clothes and vehicle, etc. I've never seen anyone so determined. Facing a long drive in unfamiliar conditions and terrain didn't phase him. You obviously meant everything to him," the doctor says. After a pause, he adds, "If you remember anything else about what happened to you, please let me know, so I can tell the head of the base and your boss." "I want to see my partner." "Soon. When you're a little stronger." If Mulder really is dead, I'll never be strong again. I feel numb and cling to my denial. I want to yell at the doctor, but force myself not to. That will only make him sedate me. I have to focus. This must be a mistake or a set up. Evidence, I remind myself. Gather evidence. "What did Mulder.?" I can't bring myself to say the word. "What was the cause? How did I survive when he didn't?" "If we hadn't arrived when we did, you wouldn't have lasted much longer yourself. It looks like he gave you some of his own clothing to keep you as warm as he could." As I try to rein my emotions in, the doctor says, "The most probable causes of death were hypothermia or possible complications from the head wound he received in the States before coming here." I stare at Griggs blankly. "What head wound?" "I've talked via satellite phone to Assistant Director Skinner. He said that Agent Mulder was shot when you were being abducted, and the bullet heavily grazed his head, glancing off the temporal plate." I close my eyes for a long moment, then open them. My denial is wavering. "What else can you tell me?" I ask. "If he had an injury like that, then why wasn't he in a hospital?" But I already know the answer. I was missing and Mulder was determined to find me. No matter what the cost to himself. And he paid it. "Agent Mulder was hospitalised unconscious in D.C. but later left against medical advice. In fact, apparently he didn't even give the doctors a chance to nix his plans - he snuck out." I feel like bursting into tears. Griggs goes on, "There is the possibility that there was a blood clot but I can't say for sure without an autopsy. And not just a blood clot from the bullet wound itself because there is quite a lot of heavy bruising over his body that was not there when he was in the Georgetown hospital. I was faxed his medical records." "I want to see him." "After I've run some tests and you've had some rest." "What tests?" "More bloodwork and follow up tests now that you're awake and can respond." He starts to list them but I find myself tuning him out, my mind returning to my partner. A nurse enters. She smiles and greets me. I barely acknowledge her, turning back to Griggs. "You said that Mulder was determined to find me." "Yes. Absolutely." "Well I am just as determined to go see him right now, so I suggest you either help me or get the hell out of my way." I manage to keep my voice firm, despite the urge to lose it big time. The doctor and nurse exchange looks. As rationally as I can manage, I tell them that I am only asking to see my partner for a few minutes, then I will return to bed. "I am sure that AD Skinner informed you that I am a medical doctor as well as an FBI agent, and I assure you that I am well enough to get out of bed for the time required. And I'm quite willing to take full responsibility for my actions, or even sign myself 'out' if need be." And if Griggs goes to sedate me against my will, watch out.. I continue, "Look, I *have* to see if it really is Mulder. Until I do.. And if it isn't, then my partner is still out there somewhere." I am debating whether to ask if they really want to get the FBI off-side and to tell the doctor that this is a matter of international security. Damn the consequences, though there could well be some truth in the 'international security' part. But Griggs agrees with my request, albeit reluctantly. Mulder's body will be brought to a room nearby and I will be taken to that room in a wheelchair, just for a few minutes. Then back to bed. They make sure I am suitably attired and suitably warm for my journey, deciding how many blankets to put here and there on or around me, but I don't care. They might as well be dressing and arranging a mannequin - I already feel, and act, like one anyway. And I also realise that this base may not have a morgue or freezers. They could probably just use unheated sections of the base, for some things at least. Those rooms would be the same temperature as outside - well below freezing. No wonder the doctor wants to take me to a 'half way' room instead of one of those. My emotions are mostly in shutdown mode. But hope and denial spring eternal. Mulder never gave up on anything, and I am following his lead. And, after all, he has survived a situation similar to this before. How long was he lying out on the ice in Alaska before the reconnaissance team reached him? Plus he had the retrovirus. The doctor and nurse don't disconnect the IV line, instead hanging the IV bag from a pole on the back of the wheelchair. Leads are unsnapped and I am able to lose my other attachments, which is good. Another man comes in and says, "Ready." Mulder has been moved into that nearby room. The nurse and doctor will accompany me. There is no one else at the moment that needs observation or their care. I remember reading somewhere that medical personnel at such isolated bases often have little chance to practice their skills, because the other personnel have to be in such great health to be sent there in the first place. Accidents would occur, but often the doctors have to come up with things to do - like one doctor who measured everyone's toenails to see whether the cold temperatures affected growth. I keep thinking of weird facts like that to distract me and keep reality at bay as we move down the corridor. We pass a few people who say hello and give me sympathetic looks. Didn't the doctor say that it was the early hours of the morning? Why are there people up? I guess they would have shiftwork down here too, especially to take advantage of good weather when they've got it. And like Griggs said, all the data from that crater and the rescue of two FBI agents must be causing quite a stir. The room we enter is some sort of storage room. There is a gurney in the middle of the room. The body on it is completely covered by a sheet. And the body is Mulder-sized. I am wheeled right up to the gurney, next to the head, while a voice inside me wants to call out to them to stop, to turn me around and take me back to my room. Reality is right in front of me, the inevitable, and now I don't want to see it. I don't want to know. But I have to. Griggs steps up beside me and takes hold of the edge of the sheet. He pauses, waiting for a signal from me. How many times have I been in his shoes, or pulled back a sheet to begin an autopsy? I take a deep breath and nod. My eyes automatically follow the sheet as it is pulled part-way down. My gaze then travels up the section of muscular but bruised chest and shoulders, up the neck - - and onto Mulder's motionless face. Countless times I have sat beside him in hospitals while waiting for him to wake up from coma, unconsciousness, etc. I know his face through all those situations and incarnations. I have also seen countless corpses in my career. And as much as I want to deny it this time, a corpse is what I am staring at now. There is no life beneath the surface, waiting to stir. So bruised. So dead. No. No! I reach out and touch his skin. It is hard and so cold and icy that I can't keep my hand there for as long as I want to. He is frozen. I should have known to expect that, but.. Even so, part of me is tempted to grab the doctor's stethoscope and listen for any sign of life. I stand up. I sway a little and grab hold of the edge of the gurney. Its wheels must be locked or I must be pretty weak, because the gurney doesn't move. And my IV line manages to hang in there. I can feel hands at my waist, steadying me. Both Griggs and the nurse are talking, trying to get me to sit back down. I regain my balance and swat rather viciously at a hand. The protests cease, but the hovering at my sides remains. I want to climb up and pound on Mulder's chest. I want to lie down beside him and never move again. Silently I sit down. I stare blankly at his face. "It's him," I manage to confirm to Griggs. I would scream, but it is simply too large to get out. Instead the scream is in every cell of my body, reverberating. Hopefully it will build up enough to shake me to bits or tear me apart. Now I remember that when I gathered Mulder into my arms on the ice, desperate to transfer my life-warmth into him, I had looked out and around desperately for some sign of shelter or help. All I could see was white. Desolation. Now desolation is all I can feel. Upon waking up I had felt like I would never be warm again, and now I know why. My heart had frozen when Mulder's stopped. Just like the scream being too much and too loud to get out or hear, there is too much emotion building inside me to feel. There are not enough nerve endings in everyone on the planet to be able to sense or cope with this. My one in five billion. All these thoughts race by in a space of moments. Griggs is saying that it is time for me to go back to bed. Ignoring him, I fumble for, and find, Mulder's hand. I touch it for as long as I can manage. The fingers that are so long and were so beautiful. I reach out with my other hand and touch his face. I know I won't be able to run my fingers through his hair or put his hand to my cheek. I won't even be able to kiss him. I see where the bullet left its mark. It wasn't enough to stop him. Not with me missing. He came all this way and saved me. He gave his life for me. And I'll be taking him home in a body bag. My tears haven't managed to get past the scream or my other emotions yet, but they are gathering like floodwaters against the wall of a dam. Just a matter of time. "I need a minute alone, please." The doctor is giving me an 'I think that is a Very Bad Idea' look. "No. What we need to do is perform more tests, just to double check that you're okay, and then give you something to ensure that you rest. We'll take you back to bed now." With an effort I manage not to snap at him when I reply, "Look, after all the trouble to bring him in here. and to get me in here.. A few minutes more won't hurt. I promise I won't try to stand up again." Before Griggs can respond, there is a knock. The door opens, and a man and a woman come in, dressed in heavy-weather gear. The man says, "Sorry to interrupt, but John's had a fall just outside the north entrance - could be a broken leg." That cues frenetic activity and more people appearing. The doctor is giving orders. He and the nurse have to hurry off, but I am to be left in the charge of a geologist, who is to take me back to my room soon and stay with me until further notice. Everyone else rushes off. The geologist tells me his name is Bevan. He takes up a position near the door, giving me as much space and privacy as he can without leaving the room. He starts going over some pages on a clipboard he's carrying. I go to turn back to Mulder, but then catch a glimpse of some photos the geologist is shuffling through. They're probably of the crater. And there's a look of intense fascination on his face that makes my heart hurt, because of who it reminds me of. Then I find myself thinking about a line from the movie 'Titanic'. Rose talking about Jack. "He saved me in every way that it is possible to save someone." At least Rose and Jack got to declare their love for each other. They got to kiss. They got to make love. They did all that within a matter of how many days? Not all that many. They realised what they had together was special and seized the day. Mulder and I had five years, and countless times during those years we nearly lost each other. We knew what we had was special but we never quite seized any of those days. Mulder started to, just before the bee stung me. I'm sorry, Mulder. I'm sorry for being such a coward. What am I going to do? Carry on Mulder's quest. Find his sister. Make the bastards who are responsible for this pay dearly - whether human or not. It's the least I can do for him. The only thing I can do now. I will ask Bevan and the other geologists about the crater and their gathered data. But not now. In another few hours or tomorrow. From the bits and pieces that I can remember, I have a pretty good idea of what was in the crater. And where it has gone. I hope Mulder got to see it before he.. I close my eyes, my mind filling with regrets. That Mulder died thinking I was going to leave him and the Bureau. That I never - I force those thoughts out of my mind and pray, before opening my eyes and moving myself forward to the edge of the wheelchair. I can hear Bevan scribbling away, but that ceases at my movements. The gurney is low - probably adjusted that way by a considerate staffer due to me being in this wheelchair, and now I am far enough forward to cover Mulder's chest with the sheet again and rest my head against it. That makes the cold more bearable, not that I really care about the cold I feel and how I could be aggravating the frostbite on my face. But if I didn't have the sheet between us Bevan would probably intervene and take me away. If I start crying he certainly will intercede in a hurry. The tears might not do my frostbite any good, but much more pressing is that those tears would most likely freeze and 'glue' me to Mulder, even with the sheet there. Separation would be interesting and painful to say the least. I feel a brief macabre fascination at that. I'll stay like this for as long as I can, until they drag me away. I close my eyes and for now do what I trained myself to do years ago: cry inwardly instead of out. One of my unique talents, but not something to be proud of. Instead it is 'dehumanising', as Melissa once accused me. She was right. I keep so much of my emotions locked inside. Mulder never got to see them, or the full extent of them. Now I really am the Ice Queen. Somewhere at the periphery of my grief I hear the door opening. I can hear two men speaking, but not what they are saying, as my breathing and Mulder's lack of it are so loud in my ears. It's probably time for them to take me back. Or try to. I hear the door close. Then someone is beside me. Still overwhelmed, I don't even try looking up. A hand gently touches my neck. It remains there - the geologist or someone else is trying to comfort me, instead of encouraging me to sit up. And suddenly I feel strange, like all my overloading emotions and events are finally crashing down on me. I think I pass out. I seem to drift for a time - or it could be no time at all. Then I slip into a memory, of Mulder and me holding each other in the hallway. How I could hear his heart beating and feel his breathing. I remember it so clearly. I will hold onto that for the rest of my life. I can feel his chest moving under my cheek. The memory feels so real. Wait - his chest IS moving under my cheek. I freeze and open my eyes. I still have my cheek against the sheet over his chest and find myself staring across at a drab wall of that room at the Antarctic base. I must have fainted or be dreaming or delusional.. But his skin isn't hard and frozen anymore. I slowly raise my head, then move the sheet out of the way. Mulder's chest is rising and falling. And there is no sign of any bruising there. Oh my god oh my god oh my god.. For long moments I am hypnotised by the movement, too hopeful and too hesitant to raise my eyes to his face. I put my hand on his chest, and it confirms what my eyes are seeing. Life. Steady, restful breathing and heartbeat. I'm almost too scared to move my gaze from his chest to look at his face, in case this miracle pops like a bubble. But I do. Mulder's eyes are closed, but his head moves slightly. He is pale; however the bruising and bullet graze have gone. I am not dreaming that he is alive. On the edges of my vision, I can see that I am - we are - still in this room at the base. His death can't have been a dream either, because otherwise we would be in a hospital or infirmary room instead of this storage room. He's done it again. Somehow he's managed to cheat death one more time! "Mulder?" Oh God, please be in there.. He mumbles faintly, moving his head again, but his eyes remain closed. I glance up at the doorway, wondering why my 'sentry' has not rushed forward to help. Unless he's in shock too. But no one is there. The room is empty apart from me and Mulder. Has Bevan or whoever rushed out to get help? No, I would have heard that. Unless they went for help when I blacked out. I don't let myself dwell on that at the moment. Mulder is moving and making waking up noises, and his body is starting to shiver. This room is heated, but all he's wearing, after all, is a sheet. Shroud. I leap up and push the wheelchair back out of the way. Standing, I gather Mulder's upper body into my arms, lifting it up enough so that I can hold him against me. The tug and pain from my parting of the ways with the IV line is something I vaguely notice. And I'm trying to put my blankets onto and around him instead. "Mulder!" He opens his eyes and looks at me. "S-scull.y..?" "I'm here. We're all right. We're safe! You got us to safety." The comprehension and relief in his eyes tells me that he registers what I'm telling him. He searches my face, seemingly together enough to remember that I wasn't travelling too well the last time he was conscious. "I'm okay," I repeat. "C-cold." Mulder is shaking in earnest now - these few blankets and my embrace can't quite produce the heat he needs, even with all the sheer emotion that I'm generating through every pore. The bad case of 'freezer burn' he had in Alaska is nothing compared to this. I rock us both and look around the room, trying to work out if it would be likely to have any blankets or anything I can hurry to grab and wrap around him along with my arms, but it is fairly spartan. And as cruel as it is, if he's hypothermic he's going to have to be gradually warmed. I also want to kiss him a billion times over, right now, but first things first. I am about to try to yell out for help and more blankets when suddenly the door opens. A man halts and exclaims in surprise at the sight before him. "You shouldn't be -" he starts to say before I can speak - he's probably about to say 'alone' and out of the wheelchair, as he is naturally thinking that I'm overcome with grief and clinging to a corpse - but then I turn enough for him to see that Mulder's eyes are open and blinking instead of in a death-stare, one hand clutching me. The residual fear in me that I am dreaming or delusional is quickly shattered by the man's reaction. He does a double- take, lets out a *much* stronger and unprintable exclamation, and leaps out into the corridor. "HE'S ALIVE! This guy's alive! Get in here QUICK!" are bellows that are music to my ears as I continue to hold my partner and the man races back in. Now my tears are flowing and Mulder mouths my name. "It's okay," I tell him. "We're in from the cold. And I'm not leaving you or letting you go ever again." xXx Now I know what animals in the zoo feel like. Everyone on the base has come through at some stage or another since Mulder's return to life. Sometimes several times. To see with their own eyes or chat or run another test. Currently Mulder and I are in the infirmary. At the moment we're sitting together up against the head of a bed. Mulder's arm is around me and I am turned in towards him, my arm across his front. I could care less about tongues wagging. The medical staff, some of the scientists and the base head are gathered around. Those of them who were roused from sleep have certainly become wide-awake upon hearing and seeing the developments. There are no other patients - the man whom they thought had a broken leg had a sprain instead, and he is recuperating in his own quarters. We watch Doctor Griggs pace in front of us. Griggs is still wearing the same stunned expression that hit his face when he first saw Mulder alive and breathing in my arms. Now the doctor addresses everyone as he shakes his head in disbelief and says, "This may be the back of beyond and we might not have the most up to date equipment, but we've got enough equipment and enough knowledge to tell when someone is stone-cold - no pun intended - dead. Not to mention that you can't come back to life after you've been frozen solid!" "Sorry, I mustn't have read that memo when it was circulated," Mulder replies with a grin. Everyone laughs. Being able to hear him joke again.. Not long ago I was filled with sadness, now I'm in happiness overload. Griggs says, "Agent Mulder, even if you were in a coma that made your vitals so slight they were barely there, we should have been able to pick it up. There is the poison Tetrodotoxin used in voodoo practice to make a 'zombie' - but it not only lowers your vital signs so much that you appear dead, it can cause brain damage from lack of oxygen.. And I don't think we're going to find any trace of that in the tests." He sighs and then continues, "There's cataplexy - again where a person falls into a death-like state, where breathing and the heart rate drop so low that they might not be detected. But even if you were in that state, you were in an unheated room for hours after we pronounced - no one could have survived that in this climate. Freezing causes a lot of damage to cells, because we're ninety-eight percent water. Water expands when it freezes, so the cell walls tend to burst from the internal expansion." Well, not only has that not happened, but every single injury Mulder had has gone, including his old gunshot scars, though the metal plate in his leg is still there. If it wasn't, I'd say this was a clone or that those Jeremiah Smiths are more amazing than even my partner realised. No frostbite. Mulder didn't even end up having hypothermia. He's in perfect health. The only marks on him now are where I accidentally hold onto him too hard. I don't want to let him go. He's not complaining, apart from a joke that this should make going to the bathroom and having a shower very interesting indeed. The frostbite on my own face has vanished too, the same with my bruises. There is only a bandaid where I pulled the IV line out. I feel energised. It's like we've been newly minted. A female scientist tells Griggs, "Well, we haven't got cutting edge medical equipment down here. Perhaps there was an equipment malfunction. Or it's a miracle. Or it's time for you to retire!" Mulder and I exchange glances. We have a pretty good idea of what happened, but will go over our theory in detail together in private. No one has asked us if we know how that crater appeared, but someone will eventually. Right now they've got enough to wrap their heads around. The scientist then says, "And the wonders aren't just limited to a return from the dead. There's also the matter of how all that bruising and Agent Scully's frostbite vanished." Griggs nods and asks me to tell them again what happened in that room after he was called away from my side by the emergency. I explain about hearing two men speaking, that someone then seemed to leave. Then someone touching me and I passed out. Waking up to find my partner breathing and no one else in the room. Griggs turns to Bevan the geologist and a meteorologist who has been introduced to us as Stan. They are sitting nearby. "Okay," Griggs says. "Now let's see if I've got the next part straight. Bevan, you were watching Agent Scully for me. Then you say that Stan came into the room and told you that the head geologist wanted to see you in the mess hall - which is over on the other side of the base." Bevan nods, while Stan looks baffled. Bevan says to Stan, "You were looking pretty serious - almost grim - and I thought you either had a headache or you'd had this task dumped on you when you were in the middle of something and you were not at all happy about it." Doctor Griggs continues, "Stan said that he would keep an eye on Agent Scully while you were gone. But when you got to the mess hall, you found that your boss hadn't sent for you - it turned out he was asleep in his roommm - and that Stan was actually outside taking a weather reading!" "Yes," Bevan confirms. "I hadn't been anywhere near this part of the base for hours!" Stan supplies. Bevan says, "Then suddenly there was all this yelling about Agent Mulder being alive." "And no sign of anyone in the room with the agents, Stan or otherwise.." Grigg concludes. "Apart from Geoff, who came in and found our two very much alive agents and raised the 'alarm'." "Time to start believing in angels again!" someone else comments, only half-jokingly. "Well, angel or not, security here is being reviewed," the base head comments. "If someone unauthorised got in here, I'd like to find out how! And how he was able to pose as Stan. All the excitement was probably a good distraction for him to slip out." "But where would he go out here?" a scientist counters. "And in these temperatures? Though I guess angels wouldn't feel the cold," he finishes sarcastically. "We've searched the base and didn't find any intruders. Everyone is accounted for." "Anyway, a few more tests, then Agents Mulder and Scully can be discharged," Griggs says, then turns to us. "I'd normally keep you in for another day or two for rest and observation, but Agent Scully is clearly no longer weak or very tired, and Agent Mulder is no longer as dead as a doornail. You're both in amazing health and will be in my vicinity for the next few days anyway, so I'll discharge you soon. Regardless, you've still been through a lot though, so I advise taking it easy, just in case, and we have a counsellor who is available if you want to speak to someone." "Thank you," I tell him. "You can stay in two of the spare rooms until it's time to leave." Though by the way Griggs is eyeing us, he's wondering if only one will be used. The base head says to me, "You'd better phone Assistant Director Skinner soon too. He called to check on your condition and to start making arrangements for your return home. I told him that he'd need to book two seats instead of one. When I told him that Agent Mulder was actually alive now, he was stunned, but not as much as I thought he'd be. Well, perhaps it's more accurate to say that he seemed to recover quicker from the news than I anticipated." He looks at Mulder. "The guy said you must have been a cat in a previous life. " "Going home in a body bag has never been my style," Mulder replies. "I'll call Skinner," I tell Griggs. "There's something I want him to tear up." At the latter sentence, Mulder smiles. xXx Eventually, after more questions and discussion from the group, I manage to tear myself away from my partner's side for long enough to phone Skinner. When I return to the infirmary, I find that at last Mulder and I have been left alone, hopefully for a little while at least. I'm looking forward to us being 'cut loose'. I return to his embrace. For a time we don't say anything. There is no need to. We just hold each other. "I thought I'd lost you," I murmur. "I DID lose you." "Same here. Thank God that vaccine worked." I pull back enough to look at him. "What vaccine?" "That bee you were stung by - it was carrying a virus. But I was given the vaccine to it and the coordinates of where to find you." "By whom?" Mulder looks hesitant for a moment, then says, "The walls may have ears, or they may not, but he died not long after giving it to me, so.. It was that elderly Englishman from the Consortium - the one who talked to us in Victor Klemper's orchid house several years ago. The one who had earlier warned you that your life was in danger." And Melissa had died in my place. I take a deep breath. "Why did he give it to you?" "He may have a soft spot for you or us. Paternal, like Deep Throat. And I got the impression our Englishman thought we were the only ones who could stop the Consortium's plans. I'll tell you the rest of what he said later. Hey, cheer up. We *can* defeat the bad guys. Look what we managed to achieve so far today!" I smile and shake my head, then get back on track. "So I was exposed to a virus. The doctor didn't say that anything unusual has come up in the tests." "So you're okay," Mulder says in relief. "But how do we know for sure? This sort of thing, whatever it is, may not be picked up by these tests, especially since they probably don't have a huge array of equipment down here," I point out. I don't want to cause alarm, but.. "Do you want to tell the doctor? We'll probably end up quarantined!" Mulder says. "I'd agree with you, but I don't think there's any need in this case. You don't have any strange symptoms or signs of anything wrong and no one else on the base has come down with anything. Well, apart from me catching a rather startling case of 'life'! And another point is that you've been double healed." I raise my eyebrow. "You've been healed by both the vaccine AND by that Jeremiah Smith or whatever it was that paid us a little housecall," he elaborates. "And the boys were able to get their hands on that bee. They're bound to have had it analysed by now. Get them to send us the results and ask Griggs to let you look at your bloodwork. You're a doctor - he should let you. With that info you'll know what you're looking for and should be able to reassure yourself that you don't have the same. Considering all of the above, we don't have to tell anyone official. We don't need to." I hesitate, considering, then I nod. Now it is Mulder's turn to look uncertain about something. "What is it?" I ask. "Scully, I.. Something happened when I was dead. I have a sense that there was something after it. There was a strong feeling of peace and I know there was more than that, but that feeling is all I can consciously remember." His expression has become awed. "It felt great, but being with you feels better." My heart almost physically aches at this declaration - Mulder has known so little peace in his life. "I know what you mean about that sense of peace. Remember how I told you about what I experienced in my coma? That I knew we had nothing to fear when we died?" "I do," he says. "But, like with you, that didn't stop me being happy that I was still alive, and back with you." We hug again, tightly and possessively, then become lost in our thoughts. "When I saw you in that pod thing with that tube down your throat." Mulder says, and I feel him shiver for a moment. "I remember - sort of. It's a wonder my throat and voice weren't affected." "Well, all that goo you were suspended in might have helped, and the tube wasn't like a plastic one in a hospital. It was, well, organic. So that could have minimised any damage or irritation." "How kind of them!" We go back to puzzling over what happened. "So you're not subscribing to the angel theory?" I ask, looking my partner square in the eye. "I'm leaning towards aliens," he replies. "I thought you didn't believe in aliens anymore." His faith is shining in his eyes again, along with his feelings for me. I missed seeing the former over the last year, and am extremely happy to see the latter. "Scully, that place that I got you out of.. Then seeing it lift up and take off - no human could have made that." "I believe you. Skinner said that sources - most likely including the Gunmen - have satellite photos of a rather enormous *something* taking off from that spot. The thing is pretty blurry before it vanishes." "Some sort of cloaking device, probably," Mulder interjects. "Klingons can't be the only ones who have them!" "Since it was in Antarctica and so isolated, it will probably be hushed up fairly easily or written off as a hoax. Especially since one of the eyewitnesses had a head injury at the time." I reach up and run my fingers over the spot where the bullet graze had been. "And the other had a face full of snow and was severely disorientated." Mulder grins and shrugs. He says, "And any other eyewitnesses who survived wouldn't have been on our side. They probably had their own means of making themselves scarce from the vicinity of the crater and Antarctica. The main thing is that you're alive. You said you believe me. Does that mean you believe it wasn't an angel?" "Well, we did have the Jeremiah Smith case several years ago. You thought that the Jeremiah who saved all those people and took you to the farm in Canada was probably killed, but you never found out for sure. And I discovered records of a heap of other 'Jeremiah Smiths' in existence at the time. But I don't care if whoever was in the room with us had wings or green blood, as long as they had that healing touch. Then again, the Consortium has a chip that cures cancer, so who knows what else they can cure?" I theorise. "The people that Jeremiah Smith healed were seriously injured or dying, but not actually dead," Mulder points out. "I wonder if there's a limit on how long a person can be dead before they can't bring them back to life? And I also wonder why they decided or chose to heal me." I reply, "Perhaps for the same reason as you were given the means to find me and save me. We may be of some unknown 'use' to someone in power, part of some plan. And perhaps because they knew the vengeance I would wreak upon them in my grief and fury." I am deadly serious. Mulder is staring at me intensely, just like in the hallway, seeing the strength of my emotions. "I'm so bound to you that death wouldn't dare take me without getting your permission first," he says. "It didn't have my permission. But you have my permission to live. Really live." He takes it, leaning in, and I don't hesitate to do likewise. We share our first kiss at last. That kiss and its sequels are more than worth waiting for. Worth every obstacle. THE END. There is a sequel vignette called "Frozen Hearts II: Spring Has Sprung" which gets very MSR-y. It was originally part of the above but it took some turns which I hadn't planned on (but after a lot of thought decided to keep), so I decided to split it into a separate fic to keep the above more angst- centred. Note: The only datestamp in 'Fight the Future' was on the telegram in the end scene - 6 September 1998 when the bad guys are in Tunisia with the corn crop. There is no indication of how long after the rest of the movie this scene takes place, but an educated guess can be made, or leeway allowed for a story. I was trying to use that datestamp along with the latitude and longitude coordinates that appear on the screen in the first Antarctica scene to work out how much sunlight that continent would be getting while Mulder and Scully were there. Debbie, my Official Researcher , said that in late August at the coordinates given on screen, there would be no sunlight or very little. That is highly unlikely from what we saw on screen, so she suggested that since Wilkes Land covers a huge area of Antarctica, it is easier to assume that there was a behind-the-scenes goof on the coordinates. By shifting where the action takes place, you get more sunlight to 'play' with, or stage a rescue in!