"Hush, Scully; don't try to talk."

"I ... I love you, Mulder ..."

An expression akin to agony crossed Mulder's face when he heard this.

"Why, God?  Why now when she's dying?" he thought, unable for a minute to get the image of what might have been out of his head.  These bloody paramedics seemed to be taking forever to get to the emergency room; they were wasting time, and he and Scully had so little of it left.  The paramedic had adjusted the pressure on the bandage on Scully's chest before Mulder had gotten the chance to answer.

"And I you, Scully.  Always."  Scully's only reply was a megawatt smile before she coughed.  It seemed to Mulder that she was dying before him, right in front of his eyes; the expression in his eyes told of a pain hidden in his heart that was almost too deep to tolerate.  If only he'd said something sooner!  He had trapped himself in his own personal Calvary.  Then Scully tried to speak again.

"Mulder?"

Mulder looked up at her with his soul bared in his eyes for anyone to see, and as their eyes met it was as if a bitter communion was drunk by the two of them joining their souls together forever as without a word being spoken Scully slowly came to the realization of just how much and for how long Mulder had loved her.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"How could I have told you, Scully?  It would have torn us apart ... they wouldn't have left us together as partners for so much as a minute had they gotten wind of it ..." She gave him 'the look'.

"... And," he confessed, haltingly, "I honestly couldn't have borne it without you."  And, on impulse, he leant forward to place a featherlight kiss on her lips, as if to place the final seal on his words' authenticity, surreal as the occasion was in its inappropriateness.

"We could have had ... so much ... together ..." Scully's voice quivered slightly at this, and for the life of him Mulder couldn't swallow past the lump in his throat which appeared suddenly when he tried to speak.  His voice broke from him suddenly as he spoke in a tone that was full of the love that had withstood the test of time.

"Three years, Scully ..." he said, mournfully.  "Three wasted years."  The pain was so intense now that it almost threatened to overwhelm him.  "Scully?  Scully ...  I'll always regret not having time with you.  Always."  Scully's lips curved upwards slightly as if the effort of a complete smile was beyond her strength.  Her breathing changed noticeably soon afterwards, with an ethereal quality to it that sent a chill down Mulder's spine as he heard, rather than saw, Death's bony hand reach out to draw Scully closer to the riverbank.  As if he was going to let her cross the river if she didn't want to!  He hoped she didn't want to, was hoping that so desperately that it hurt.  Suddenly he started talking.

"Scully?  No, don't try to talk.  Just listen to me.  You can beat this.  Fight it, Scully.  Fight it.  Come back to me.  I swear to God that I'll do all that lies within my power to keep us from being parted again.  Think about it, Scully."

When they finally arrived at the emergency room (Mulder neither noticed nor cared about its name), medical staff tried to separate them.  Mulder was having none of it.  He used his FBI privileges fully, pushing out the boat just so he could stay with Scully.  With so much potentially at stake, he wasn't going to let her out of his sight one minute longer than he absolutely had to.  He knew he was being a selfish bastard but just then, he really couldn't give a damn.  At that precise moment Fox Mulder was utterly concentrated on someone other than his sister, and was consumed with making sure that the love of his life survived long enough for him to be able to tell the world.

                                                                -X-

Finally, after two blood transfusions and emergency surgery, they said Scully was out of immediate danger, although doctors warned Mulder that her condition was still critical.  Now he could call people, let them know what was happening, although he knew he should have done that already.  Scully's mother, for a start, would crucify him.

"Skinner."

"Sir, this is Agent Mulder."

"Where the hell are you, Mulder?"

"Georgetown Medical Center."

"What the ...?"

"Agent ... Scully ..." Mulder felt the tremor in his voice and knew that if he wasn't careful he'd end up betraying his feelings for Scully and that he couldn't do, not yet.  Not until he was sure of Skinner being on their side.  He was blissfully unaware that the pause on its own had told his superior everything.  Everything he had wanted to keep secret.

"Agent Mulder ... what is wrong with Agent Scully?"

"Scully ..." he breathed as Scully's eyes fluttered open and he gazed into them, forgetting, for the time being, that Skinner was at the other end of the telephone.  "Scully ... we need to talk."  He said that with such love that Skinner didn't need to ask whether the relationship between the two of them
had developed into something more than friendship; it was patently obvious.  Instead, he decided to remind Mulder of his existence at the other end of that telephone.

"Mulder?  Are you still there?  What is the matter with Agent Scully?"

Mulder snapped back into professional mode almost immediately on hearing Skinner's voice, although his eyes never left Scully's face.  Oh shit, his mind told him.  Skinner's heard every word I've said to Scully.  We're in trouble now, and no mistake.  He winced at the recollection of the events of the morning, but knew that he had to tell his superior everything.

"Sir!  Um .. Agent Scully was involved in a shooting incident earlier this morning.  Her doctors say she's critical, but should make a good recovery, given time ..."
 

THE END
 
 

"Nothing happens in contradiction to nature; only in contradiction to what we know of it.
 So that's a place to start.  That's where the hope is."
 
                    - Dana Scully, 'Herrenvolk'