Rain poured down upon the steps of the Hoover building. It was late, around ten o’ clock in the evening, and most of the usual traffic had died. Most people were home with their families... Or at least home. But Agent Fox Mulder was just treading the stairs to hail a cab. Carelessly, he brushed a few droplets of rain from his forehead and then walked to the curb. The ground was slippery this evening, although the lack of traffic in the area made that observation less than important. A cab turned the corner and Mulder raised a hand. The cab stopped, the man got in.

They were driving fast... Or was it Mulder’s imagination? Why did he feel so uneasy? What was...?

A loud scream of a blaring horn, flashing lights, screams...

************

"And now we lay this man to rest here. We mourn his passing, for he was a good friend, a kind man, and a dutiful agent to the government."

Agent Dana Scully wiped a tear from her eye as the preacher said a prayer. She looked around. A few people... Very few. Walter Skinner, Scully’s mother, the three Lone Gunmen, swathed in black. The day was rainy and dark, much like the day he had been killed...

"I’m sorry, Dana." he mother came and said in her ear. "Are you going to be all right?"

"Yeah... Yeah, mom."

"All right. You know I’m at home whenever you need me."

"Yes mom... Thanks for coming."

Her mother merely smiled and nodded and walked away.

The Lone Gunmen approached. "Scully." Byers said, nodding.

"I’m glad you guys could come. He would have wanted it this way..."

"It’s a shame..." Langley said.

Frohike looked up. "You know, if you need some company..."

Langley and Byers both jabbed him in the ribs.

"Ok, all right... Sorry. Feel better, Scully." Frohike finished, shooting a dirty look over at his two companions.

They left, and Scully was left with Skinner. She turned to him, and shook his hand. "Sir, it was good of you to come..." a grimace replaced the emotionless expression. "I suppose he wasn’t well thought of at the Bureau."

Skinner said nothing for a moment, staring at the oak coffin suspended over the gaping hole that would soon be lowered into the ground. The raindrops fell slowly onto it, making dull plops.

"It was no problem..." was all he could manage. He smiled weakly at Scully. "Get some rest, Agent... We’ll have to talk of your next step soon... Take all the time you need."

"Thank you, sir."

And then Skinner walked away, leaving Scully alone. The preacher had left, fleeing from the rain. Scully didn’t care about the weather though. She was so numb...

He had been killed in such a bad accident. His neck had snapped... A truck had hit them head-on... If only... She hadn’t had a chance to say good-bye... That day, they had argued... And she had left the office, angry...

Scully had slammed out of the of the room, and now... She walked closer to the coffin.

"Mulder... Why?"

"It was my fault..."

"Mulder... You can’t leave me alone now..."

"Please..."

"Don’t..."

But no one heard her pleas, but the deaf wind, and the rain. It was coming down faster now, and her tears mingled with the fast-falling liquid... The long roses on his coffin shimmered slightly... She picked one up and stared at it before placing it in her coat pocket. for some reason...

*********

Scully sat alone in her apartment that evening, disconsolate and tired. She had stood in the rain until the coffin had been lowered in the ground. Perhaps she just needed the affirmation that he was really truly gone... But how could he have...? Life was so fleeting, if she had known...

If she had only thought of it... But how could she have ever stopped it? Was this destiny’s work? Did Mulder even believe in that? She felt the strong compulsion to run to him, but reminded herself he was no longer there. No longer sitting in his apartment, staring blankly at the TV. Was he happy now? But how could he die? It didn’t make sense! All the times they had faced death, he had been there, through and through. Why should he... Why should his life be cut short now, right after the biggest revelations? And after the blow of his sister’s fate... And his mother dying? What could have he been thinking those final moments? She closed her eyes...

The heat of flames, and the screams of passerby. The man driving the truck... He stared at the rubble of the cab. His whole body was screaming in pain, and his breath wasn’t coming at all. And blood and nothing and darkness... And no one was there...

Scully opened her eyes with a gasp, tears flooding her. She shouldn’t be this emotional. But if she hadn’t went home so angrily... Maybe... Well maybe she could have saved him... Told him to go home early, or... Or something. Anything, anything but this. This couldn’t be real. She stared at her hands, but yet... Her heart ached with such fierceness that she could not sit still.

"Oh... Mulder..." Tears splashed upon her fingertips as she curled into a ball on her couch. Why wasn’t he... Here? If she could go in his place... And he could come back... What would happen to them all now?

"Without you..." she cried mumbled to her hands. "Please come back..." she pleaded like a lost, tired child. But he didn’t magically reappear before her, and nothing happened... The only sounds were her quiet, sick sobbing, and the dim sound of the TV.

She rolled over, and stared at the ceiling. She rubbed her eyes, raw with crying, and tried to clear her mind... But only his face would appear. What was happening to her? Was she that lost without him...? Maybe... Maybe... She was driven to her door and grabbed her coat, wrapping it around her tightly. She raced out of the door to the sidewalk, and the dark streets below.

"Heavy thunderstorms are approaching Washington D.C and surrounding areas... Please use caution on the wet streets."

A reporter’s voice droned from a car radio on the street. Scully shivered and walked onward... Maybe she should hail a cab? No, the thought sent a deep shiver down her spine. She hurried on... Eventually, she reached her destination.

His apartment building.

She ran up the steps, into the entrance, soaking wet. A woman at the mailbox stared at her, as Scully threw herself into the elevator.

She ran down the hall. Why was she so... So... Mad? What was wrong... She had to get a grip. But something within her was driving her. She had... To... What?

She found herself at his door. She had a key to it... Somewhere... Mad hands rushed about her person, grabbing at pockets. She found a metallic object in her right coat pocket. Digging it out, she held it aloft. Yes, Mulder’s spare key...

She pushed it into the lock, stubbing her finger, and somehow pushed the door open, it creaked slowly on it’s hinges.

"Mulder...?" she whispered hoarsely.

The room was barren. Totally barren. They had removed most of the furniture... The fish tank was gone, the TV, the desk. They had left but one thing: his couch.

Closing the door slowly, Scully pushed away more tears, and walked towards the well-worn leather sofa. She placed a hand on the familiar black fabric, and her tears fell onto it with heavy plops... How many nights had her friend laid here? And all those nights, alone, taken for granted.

"I never said... Good-bye." her voice cracked. She stumbled over to the front of the couch, shivering. She tumbled onto it, and laid there, her face pressed against its surface. She sobbed quietly, letting her pain and tears flow around here. The pattering of the rain continued against the panes, and there was nothing. Her heart was numb, as if someone with a huge hand had squeezed it too hard... Crushing its contents, emptying it all into her ghost-like soul.

Somehow, she closed her eyes against the dark night around her, and remembered days past... And wondered... Wondered... If he had been okay... What, what was she withholding? Why did that ache ache so badly? He was that piece of her she could never replace. Once an annoyance... Now her closest friend... Now gone, dead, buried in some cold place... Alone? She wanted to be with him. How could... She live on without him...? She new her thoughts were crazed and irrational. She knew the feeling of sorrow would go away... She had dealt with many people who had lost people close to them... Herself included... Why did everything she love die? Her father, her sister... Little Emily... And now... Now, of all people, her one constant: Mulder. But her tears had taken a heavy toll on her... They had made her head heavy... Her eyelids tired. She slowly let the drop, sealing her tears within.

The rain lulled her to a dreamless sleep.

*********

"Scully? Hey, Scully!" a hand shook the agent.

"Huh?" her eyes were tired and dry feeling. She rolled over on the couch, her hair in her eyes. She pushed it away sleepily, and stared up at the shadowy figure above her.

"Mu... Mulder?" she whispered.

"Scully... What are you doing here?" he asked gently, sitting down beside her, as she moved over.

"You... Wait... You were... You died..."

"I what?!"

"I... I thought... I was at your funeral... And Skinner, and the Lone Gunmen... My mother. I waited. I thought... Oh my, God..." She breathed. She reached out hesitantly, as if he would disappear, and touched his cheek.

"Scully... I’m not dead. I just got home from work."

"But... You—Last night... You died... In an accident." She let her hand fall and take his.

Mulder smiled gently at her. "Scully... Did you eat something in the kitchen? Cause that stuff could give you nightmares like that."

Was it all a dream? She looked down...

"Try to remember what you did after you left the office."

Scully nodded, and thought... And then, as the first inevitable truth had been so real, the second faded one slipped into her mind’s eye...

"I... Left, I was angry, but I went home... I felt bad... I came..."

Mulder nodded.

"I came here."

"Yeah... I suppose you did."

"So this isn’t a dream."

"No, Scully."

Scully flushed, looking down. "I can’t believe... I’m sorry Mulder, I must’ve scared you."

"Nah... It’s all right."

Neither spoke for a few moments.

"Mulder... I’m sorry... About earlier, you know? After all this time together... I should at least respect your judgment."

"It’s all right Scully. Like you said... After all these years, I could at least tolerate your cynicism."

Scully just smiled, and got up, her heart much lighter. "See you tomorrow?"

"As always."

"Good night, Mulder." she said, softly.

"Night, Scully."

Scully walked out of the door, sighing softly. She slowly got into the elevator, and pressed the "L" button. As the elevator creaked slowly down to the ground floor, Scully shoved a hand into her coat pocket. With a start, she gave a small cry. She pulled her hand out. A small droplet of blood ran down her index finger. Reaching into her pocket, she found the object that had caused it.

A rose.