Twenty-eight steps. She counted backward, reaching zero as the
dark wooden door entered her peripheral vision on the left. What
did it say about her that she knew the exact number of strides
from the elevator to his door? *Her* strides, of course... not
his. She smiled. He would cover the distance in half that with
those long legs. She could see him now, long topcoat flapping
around those graceful limbs as he glanced over his shoulder at
her, then slowed his pace to allow her to catch up. Not this
time, Dana. You can't catch up to him this time.
She slipped his key into the lock and stood for a long moment
with her eyes closed, listening. He would hear the click when
she turned the key. She would hear his voice through the door,
some smart remark about why couldn't she wait a second, he was
coming. She would push open the door and he would be standing
just inside with a grin that matched his tone. Not this time,
Dana. Never again. She stepped inside and closed the door softly
behind her.
The blinds had been drawn since the day he disappeared and she
stood quietly to allow her eyes to adjust to the dimness. The
watery light from the aquarium danced along the walls accompanied
by the soft gurgle of water flowing through the pump. She had
awakened to that sound one night not too long ago, fresh from a
dream of losing him. He had been sleeping in the next room and
she had stood in his doorway while her pounding heart slowly
calmed at the sight of him. Not this time.
She crossed to his desk and brushed her fingers through the dust,
thinking absently that she should tidy up. He wasn't the best
housekeeper she'd ever known but he wouldn't let it get this bad.
Even the spot where his computer monitor had rested was becoming
less distinct, fading with each day's accumulated neglect. A
legal pad lay on the surface just as he had left it after
scribbling a quick note about flight schedules to Oregon. She had
sat on the couch and watched him write, every instinct telling
her to stop him. Stop him NOW. He had felt her apprehension and
tried to reassure her. He would be back in two days. Don't worry,
Scully. I won't be alone. Skinner will kick my ass if I try
anything dumb, you know that. I'll be fine. She could still hear
his voice so clearly that it sent a chill down her arms. But you
aren't fine, are you Mulder? Not this time.
She turned from the desk and moved slowly to his bedroom. It was
even darker without the reflected light from the fish tank and
she had to pick her way to the bed. Doggett had found her here
that morning, clutching Mulder's shirt. She suspected now that he
had seen through her bravado, straight through to her broken
heart. She hadn't known him then, hadn't yet seen the tender
heart that lay beneath the flinty exterior. Any doubts she had
about how deeply John Doggett could feel another's pain were
erased last night in a field in Montana.
She had misunderstood the pain in Skinner's eyes. Mulder must be
in bad shape, she had thought as she sprinted past them toward
the men grouped ahead. Then Doggett had halted her progress,
gripping her arms with strength and tenderness. When she had
looked up into his eyes, she had realized her mistake and felt
her heart disintegrate in her chest. She had twisted away from
his grasp and reached Mulder's side...
Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials? There's no
limit to how far you'll go to prove a point, is there Mulder?
That first time in his office, she had been nervous about meeting
the legendary Spooky Mulder. Sometimes the most important
moments in your life slip past without a thought, but not this
time. She had known from the moment he looked up at her with
eyes full of suspicion softened by a burning curiosity that this
man would change her life. And the first thing he had done was to
take her to Bellefleur, Oregon. That night in his room as he sat
on the floor at her feet, sharing his pain and his dreams with a
woman he had no reason to trust, she had begun to love him. If
she had been able to see the future, to know the unbearable agony
that lay ahead, would she have stayed with him, allowed herself
to fall so completely in love with him that his absence now was
threatening to take her sanity along with her life? In a
heartbeat, Mulder. In a heartbeat.
Heartbeats. Extra ones, now. Did you know that I've got another
heart beating in my body, Mulder? She had been startled when he
called her name, too full of grief to see him rising from the
couch as she closed the door on her hopes. They had stood in the
middle of her living room, sharing a sorrow whose depth surprised
them both. They had clung to each other for comfort, then the
comfort had turned to a desperate need that had ended in her bed.
She believed now that she had conceived that night. Don't give up
on a miracle. She stroked the soft swell of her belly and closed
her eyes, remembering him moving above her, inside her, giving
her the miracle of this life that was now the only reason she had
to stay alive.
She lay down on his bed, pulled the sheet close to her face and
closed her eyes. The essence of him still clung to them and she
breathed it in. What am I supposed to do now, Mulder? Did you
think about any of this when you walked into that light? No, he
wouldn't have. He wouldn't have understood what this would do to
her, she knew that with a sadness that twisted her heart. There
was something in him that wouldn't let him see how much he meant
to her or to anyone else who cared about him. You should see us
now, Mulder. Skinner, Frohike, Langly, Byers... even Doggett and
he never knew you. You've left a hell of a hole, partner. And
it's not going to heal, not for any of us.
Not this time.
***
