From: Leyla Harrison 

Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative

Subject: NEW: After All These Years 8/10

Date: Tue, 25 Jun 1996 15:12:57 -0700





After All These Years 8/10

by Leyla Harrison

(starbuck72@netaxis.ca)





Scully: 



I saw Mulder reach for Sam the first time and miss.  I was frozen in 

place, unable to move or speak.  My hands were over my mouth, still in 

horror at what was happening.  Joe appeared at my side, breathing 

heavily, looking down into the water at what was going on.  In 

desperation, I looked around for something that Mulder could use to hook 

onto Sam's coat with.  I turned my head around, looking for a branch or a 

rope.  Nothing.  As I looked back into the water, the rock that Sam had 

hit as she fell passed through my peripheral vision just below me.  It 

was red with blood.  Her blood.  My precious daughter.  Oh, God.



Tears were streaming down my face.  My breath was coming out in short 

white puffs in the cold.  Joe was standing there, not moving, not 

speaking.  



My daughter, I prayed, God, please, don't take my daughter.  Please.  Not 

her.  I would do anything.  Take me, not her.  Please.  



"Damn it, Dana, what the hell's the matter with you?  How could you bring 

her here?  What the hell were you thinking?" Joe was yelling at me.  It 

was making me cry harder.  I was crying so hard that I felt pain in my 

throat, and my eyes stung from the tears.  



"Shut up!" I screamed at him.  "Just shut up!"  Ignoring him further, I 

climbed down the rocks carefully to get closer to Mulder.  I could see 

him struggling in the icy water.  I could see my daughter face down.  Oh, 

God, Mulder, I prayed, please...



He reached for her again, and caught her jacket in his hand, pulling her 

close to him.  He turned her over in the water, onto her back, checking 

her pulse, checking her breathing.  Mulder fumbled in his coat pocket and 

brought out his cel phone, throwing it to me.  I caught it.  "Call an 

ambulance!" he yelled.



"Is she all right?" I asked.  "Mulder, shouldn't you get her out of the 

water?"



"Scully, call the fucking paramedics!" he yelled back.  I dialed with 

trembling fingers.  As I was hanging up, Mulder began to tow Sam back 

towards the rocks, back to shore.  Back to safety, I prayed.  He pushed 

her towards me.  "She's unconscious," he told me.  He was shaking with 

chills from the cold water.  "We've got to get her out of the water.  

We've got to keep her warm until the paramedics get here."



I helped pull her out of the water.  She was much heavier because of the 

water weighing down her coat.  Together, Mulder and I pulled her up the 

rocks.  Joe reached down to help us get her up on the frozen grass.  I 

stripped off my coat, ignoring the cold morning air and wrapped it around 

her small body.  Her eyes were closed.  The scarf was still wrapped 

around her neck, twisted tightly there.  I was afraid it was cutting off 

her supply of oxygen and so I pulled it off of her.  "Careful of her 

head," Joe cautioned.



"She's still got a pulse and it's really fast," Mulder told both of us. 

"Her breathing is shallow."



I checked it, trying to remain as professional as possible.  I'm a 

physician, I reminded myself.  But my hands were shaking, and whether it 

was from the cold or from the fear I wasn't sure.  Likely both.



I leaned my head down and listened.  I could hear short long breaths and 

I could see her chest slowly rising and falling.  But it was not enough. 

 "She spit out a lot of water when I turned her over," Mulder said.  "I 

don't think there's any of it left in her lungs."  I lifted my head and 

pinched Sam's nose and prepared to breathe into her mouth.



"What are you doing?" Joe asked.  "She's already breathing!"



"But she's breathing too shallowly, Joe.  She needs more oxygen, 

quickly."  I could see that her skin was white, her lips tinged blue.  I 

quickly checked her nail beds.  They were still OK, but she needed more 

oxygen as quickly as I could get it to her.  I breathed five deep breaths 

into her lungs.  Her chest rose high during each one.  When I stopped, 

Mulder checked her pulse again.  



"It's better." 



I scanned the park.  Where were the fucking paramedics?  I carefully 

began to lift Sam's head to check the wound.  I realized that she hit her 

head on the corner.  The blood was still flowing from the side of her 

head.  



"Don't you think you should wait until the paramedics get here?" Joe 

asked.



"She's a doctor," Mulder snapped back at him.  "She knows what she's 

doing."



"But the paramedics are trained.  Their medical knowledge is up to date. 

 All Dana's been doing for the last three years has been working on dead 

bodies at the Medical Examiner's office for the county."



"I know what I'm doing," I practically growled at him, looking up.  

Mulder was obviously freezing.  He was kneeling beside me and Sam, still 

in his wet clothing, shivering.  His teeth were clattering loudly.  "Give 

me your coat, Joe," I demanded.



He took it off without further argument and handed it to me.  I placed a 

bulk of it against Sam's head, trying to slow the flow of blood.



"Why isn't she waking up?" Joe asked, echoing all of our concerns.  



"I don't know," I answered, my voice breaking.  "I don't know."



I could hear the sirens now.  I looked up and saw the ambulance driving 

across the grass towards us.  As soon as they got close enough, they 

stopped the ambulance and two paramedics jumped out.  "My daughter, she's 

four years old, she hit her head on the rocks," I told them.  That's 

right, Dana, keep it professional.  Stay calm.  Don't go to pieces.  "Her 

pulse is 80 and we gave her artificial respiration and her breathing has 

improved."  A quick glance at Sam told me that the air I had given her 

had helped.  Her skin color had improved.  "She has a blunt injury to her 

head.  We were trying to keep the blood flow down."



"Was she in the water?" one of the paramedics asked me.  I nodded.  

"That's good.  The coldness of the water probably helped to slow down the 

blood flow as well."  The other paramedic was radioing back to the 

hospital, advising them of the situation.  I heard the crackling 

response.



"Cochran 2, please be advised that you can bring the patient right up to 

the PICU.  We'll have a bed waiting.  Repeat, you can bypass the ER and 

bring the patient right up to the PICU.  CAT scan techs will be waiting 

for you there."



"Copy that.  ETA 10 minutes."  He turned to his partner.  "We need to get 

an IV in her and then get her right in there."



"Already getting it," the paramedic beside me told him.  I pointed out 

the upperside of Sam's right wrist. 



"She's got a good vein there," I told him.  Frightening that I knew the 

location of the ‘good' veins in my daughter's body in case anything had 

happened to her.  



The other paramedic offered Mulder a blanket, which he gratefully 

accepted and wrapped around himself.  "The IV's in," the paramedic 

called.  "Let's get her in."  He loaded her onto the gurney and prepared 

to put her in the ambulance.  "Which ones of you are her parents?  You 

can ride with us."



"We are," Joe answered, and I glanced at Mulder.  The hurt was evident in 

his eyes and all over his face.  



"Why don't you ride with them and I'll ride with Mulder," I said to Joe. 

 He looked surprised but agreed.  



"We'll follow you over there," Mulder added.  



"In case you can't keep up with us, we're going to Stamford Hospital," 

the paramedic told us.  I nodded.  I knew how to get there.  Mulder and I 

headed for the car.



When we got to the car I went over to the passenger side.  "I'm 

freezing," I said quietly.  Mulder came over the my side as I was opening 

the door.



"Scully," he said, taking my arm before I could get in the car.  



I turned and practically fell into his arms, as if it were the most 

natural thing in the world to do.  I could feel his wet clothing under 

the blanket.  I could hear his heartbeat and the rise and fall of his 

chest with each breath.  I buried my face in his chest.  "Thank you, 

Mulder," I whispered, new tears in my eyes.  "Thank you for saving Sam."



"You didn't do so badly yourself," he answered back, tightening his arms 

around me, kissing the top of my head, his voice small and choked with 

emotion.  I pulled out of his arms and looked up at him.  "Why did you 

want to ride with me?"



"I wanted to thank you, and I wanted to do it without Joe watching and 

listening."



"He's not watching and listening now."



"I know."



"Why did you run?" he asked.



"Mulder," I sighed, "we have to talk about it later.  We have to get to 

the hospital."



He nodded, leaning his head down to kiss me.  My heart rate quickened.  

"Mulder," I whispered, stopping him, holding him at an arm's distance 

from me.  



"What?  You don't want me to?"



I couldn't lie to him.  Of course I wanted him to, and he knew it.  "I'm 

scared," I answered.  "Nothing has changed.  Everything's just...more 

complicated now.  Sam..."  He nodded.  He pushed my arm away, kissing me 

gently, slowly, and it ended too quickly.  It was the kind of kiss he 

used to give me that would literally take my breath away.  There was 

warmth and sensitivity and love in that kiss, so much of it that it made 

me feel loved and cared for and overwhelmed all at once.  "We need to get 

to the hospital."



"Point me in the right direction and we'll be there in no time."



*****



Mulder: 



We got to the hospital after having spoken about five words in the car.  

It took about fifteen minutes.  I could still feel her lips on mine.  I 

decided something as we pulled into the emergency parking area.  No 

matter what had happened, no matter what it took, Scully and I were going 

to be together again.  In the last day and a half I had realized that no 

matter how much she had hurt me, I was hurting more without her.  I had 

spent five years in pain, in solitude, and it wasn't worth it.  I knew 

that I couldn't have gone on much longer like I was.  



We got out of the car and went in, being directed to the PICU.  We walked 

in and Joe was in the waiting room.  "Where's Sam?" Scully asked 

immediately, going to him and leaving my side.  



"Inside.  They're doing a CAT scan on her to determine the damage done by 

the fall."  His voice was cold.  It was obvious from his tone and 

demeanor that he was blaming Scully for the accident.  It infuriated me, 

but I said nothing.  "They're listing her in critical condition," he 

added, layering on the guilt thickly.  Scully's face fell.  It was 

obvious that she was allowing her grief to let Joe pull her emotions 

exactly where he wanted them.



"I'm sorry," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes.



"Our daughter could die," he said angrily, emphasizing the ‘our' for my 

benefit, I'm sure.  "And you're sorry, Dana?  That's all you can say?"



"It was an accident," I said to him coldly.  "It's not her fault."



"She took Sam out there.  How do you figure that it's not her fault?"



"She's my daughter, Joe."



"Damn it, I raised her.  I love her.  You don't know anything about her."



"I know that she's my daughter.  That she was conceived out of love.  The 

love Scully and I had."



Scully's face grew more frightened.  "Mulder, this isn't the time--"



"No, it may not be.  But she's mine, Scully.  She's ours.  That fact 

doesn't change."



The three of us quieted down and sat down in the uncomfortable plastic 

chairs, far from each other.  Scully spoke once.  "Why haven't they come 

out and told us anything?"  Her voice was small and frightened.



"They said they'd come out as soon as they had something to tell us," Joe 

answered.



An hour passed.



A doctor, dressed in scrubs and wearing a name tag that identified him as 

Dr. Young emerged from the PICU.  "You're Samantha Harmon's parents?" he 

asked, addressing all of us, unsure as to whether Joe or I was her 

father.  We all three nodded and the doctor took it all in stride and 

kept speaking. "I'm Dr. Young, head of the PICU.  We've got her 

stabilized, but she's had a severe trauma to the head.  She's in a deep 

coma.  We're doing a CAT scan right now to confirm it, but my exam of her 

leads me to believe that there's a good amount of pressure on her brain."



Scully's body weakened.  Both Joe and I moved towards her quickly to 

support her.  We both ended up on either side of her, holding one arm 

each.



"At this point, after the CAT scan comes back, we have a few options.  We 

can attempt surgery to release some of the pressure.  I've already called 

for a neurosurgeon to come and look at her.  The surgery is very 

dangerous.  The neurosurgeon believes that the outcome of the surgery 

would not be worth it."



"Worth what?" Joe asked.



"Worth attempting to save her life.  I don't believe that she would 

survive the surgery.  In all likelihood, I don't know at this point how 

long she can hold on.  I believe there is a lot of blood in her brain.  

Too much blood.  That, combined with the intercrainal pressure, which is 

rising, is slowly cutting off the supply of oxygen.  I know she's young, 

and healthy otherwise, but I don't think that anyone with this type of 

injury could survive.  Technically, I believe that she has been mostly 

brain dead since the blow to the head.  She's not in any pain that we can 

determine.  An initial EEG showed no active brain waves.  We are keeping 

her on life support in order to do another EEG in another 12 hours to be 

sure that there are no active brain waves.  That's standard medical 

procedure."



"She's brain dead?" Joe asked, disbelieving.  Dr. Young nodded.



"Oh, God," Scully whispered, her eyes fluttering, and she struggled to 

stay on her feet.  I put one supportive arm around her waist.  Joe didn't 

even notice.  His face was stricken with sadness.



"We're going to wait for the CAT scan results, like I said.  But if they 

come back as I am anticipating them to, there's likely not a lot of time 

left.  You can go in and see her, if you'd like."  Joe and I nodded.  It 

was all Scully could do to stay standing.  "I'm very sorry."



Dr. Young went back into the PICU.  Tears were flowing down Scully's face 

as she cried silently.  "Do you want to go in?" I asked her, and she 

nodded.  



"My baby," she managed to get out.  I was stabbed with excruciating pain. 

 My daughter.  Joe's words echoed in my head.  You don't know her at all. 

 And now, I thought, I never will.  A flash of Sam's bedroom came into my 

head.  Seeing her in the front hall of Scully's house.  At the dinner 

table.  Bounding from the car.  These were the only memories I would ever 

have of her.  



"Let's all go in," Joe said, his voice now softened.  "We should all be 

there."  I tried to smile at him gratefully.  Tears were clouding my 

vision.  He was attempting to hold back his own tears.



With Scully in the middle, the three of us entered the PICU and entered 

Sam's room.  She had been changed into a hospital gown and was under a 

large heating blanket.  There were tubes, wires, and machines everywhere. 

 A tube was in her nose, and one was taped down around her lips that went 

down her throat.  There were wires monitoring her heart rate, and more 

wires monitoring her brain waves.  Multiple IV's were in her veins, and 

the tubing wound up to the bag of clear fluids that hung above her bed.  

The heart monitor was beeping.  Her small chest rose and fell 

rhythmically from the air that was being mechanically forced into her 

lungs from the machines.  Her head was bandaged, but I could still see 

wisps of her auburn hair.  Her eyes were closed, peacefully.



As Scully took everything in, her knees buckled and Joe and I both held 

her up.  She was crying openly, as was Joe.  



I was struck with an icy sense of fear and panic.  All I could recall in 

my mind was walking into the ICU and seeing Scully, just like this.  It 

was terrifying then, and it was even more so now, seeing Sam in the same 

state.  It numbed my mind and body to the point where I couldn't feel 

myself holding Scully up.



Tears began to flow down my cheeks for this child, this child who was 

mine, mine and Scully's, who was already as good as dead.  They were 

tears for Sam, and they were the tears that I had been unable to shed at 

Scully's bedside all those years ago.  



*****



Mrs. Scully: 



When I finally found out what was going on and made it to Conecticut, I 

got a taxi to take me directly to the hospital.  I made it up to the PICU 

and was ushered in.  In Sam's small room, Dana, Fox and Joe were all 

seated around her bed.  Someone had put a blanket over Dana and she was 

asleep.  Joe nodded hello to me and I nodded back. 



I saw my granddaughter on the bed and all the apparatus she was attached 

to and swallowed hard.  Fox looked up as I entered the room and we locked 

eyes.  We both knew what the other was thinking.  It was just like seeing 

Dana on that bed all those years ago.  



Fox got up quietly from his chair and took me out into the hallway.  

"They're going to do another EEG in a few hours...but she is brain dead. 

 She's on life support."



"Oh, Fox," I said, sorrow filling my heart.  "She's so young."



He nodded.  His cheeks were still wet with tears, and his eyes were 

swollen from crying.  "Dana's not taking it very well.  The doctor gave 

her a mild sedative to help her sleep for a while.  He didn't think she 

should be sitting here for 12 hours watching all of this."



I nodded.  My poor daughter.  To have to have gone through so much, and 

now this.  I couldn't even begin to imagine how she was dealing with it. 

 "I'd like to stay, Fox," I told him, my throat tight.  



"I've already got a chair waiting for you," he said, as if he had known I 

would want to be in the room.



"Thank you."


CONTINUED IN PART IX...