Sent: Thursday, July 27, 2000
AUTHOR: Kate M
TITLE: Sword of Time
RATING: PG-13 for heaviness
CATEGORY: Crossover (XF/Star Trek: The Next Generation), Scully
character death (in flashback), MSR/UST.
SUMMARY: After living under various disguises, Scully finally
true self to someone. She's a changed woman, though, and explains
DISCLAIMER: Who owns The X-Files and all it's characters? "Not
little Kate. "Then who does?" asked the big, bad lawyers.
1013 and FOX," said little Kate. "And who owns the Star
Trek people?" "Not
I. 'Tis Paramount." (Sorry, spent *way* too much time babysitting
week! You read kiddie books, they stick with you! Just be glad
I didn't try
to "Green Eggs and Ham" this disclaimer!)
ARCHIVE: Sure. Send me the link. CoX, Gossamer, Empheral, and
ATXC are all
okay. If the ST archive wants this too, they can have it.
FEEDBACK: C'mon, folks. Don't make me beg.
SPOILERS: Scattered ones for seasons 1-7. Except "Requiem"and
nothing season 7 you haven't seen overseas yet. Not a post-Requiem
there are "Requiem" spoilers. A lot of "Tithonus"
TIMELINE NOTE: Taking place in the Next Gen universe, it follows
timeline. All events that occurred in TNG history happened here.
made up an event or two of my own... <G>.
NOTES: (Alternatively titled "Kate Tries to Explain 50 Million
and Thank Everybody and Their Mother".) Response to Church
of X July
Challenge #1. I want to warn everyone upfront that Scully will
be a little
out of character at points in this fic...but I think you'll understand
reasoning as you read it. The POV changes at times (well, most
of the story) to a first-person Scully POV. It'll occasionally
turn rambling--it's written as if she's actually talking, telling
the story--I just wanted to save myself the quotation marks. :)
They tend to get lost after several
paragraphs...<grin> Most of the character death is breezed
over, but I think you'll understand once you read. Thanks to CoX
for giving the challenge that gave me this idea, and to my buddy
Dawn Rochelle for pointing out the uncanny similarities between
Dana Scully and Beverly Crusher that got me
thinking...just count yourselves lucky. A Highlander crossover
also came to
mind. (There can be only one...) You don't really have to know
about Next Generation to get this one, just that Beverly Crusher
is the chief medical officer of the Enterprise, and that her husband
Jack died years ago.
That's not a big part of the story at all, just information so
you won't be
confused. She also has a kid, but that's also mindless trivia
in terms of
A *very* special thanks to everyone who helped me with this fic
and all your wonderful ideas! Couldn't have done it without ya!
Well...I could have, but
it wouldn't have been near as good. BSirious tossed me the
Skinner-on-the-wrong-side-of-the-conspiracy idea (you'll see)...hope
you like what I've done with it, B! And you would not *believe*
how many people
wanted me to have auto-erotic asphyxiation in this thing somewhere!
Well, read it and see...I'm not saying yes and I'm not saying
know I'm evil).
The sword of time will pierce our skins.
It doesn't hurt when it begins,
But as it works its way on in--
The pain grows stronger...watch it grin...
"Suicide Is Painless"--Johnny Mandel
U.S.S Enterprise 1701-E
Approximate Old Earth date: May 24, 2373
Dr. Beverly Crusher paused in the hall, and waited for the door
open. She entered the quarters of the newest member of her medical
"Doctor? Could we talk?"
The smaller woman looked up at her from her perch on the bed.
do you want to talk about?"
"I like to get to meet my medical staff, Dr. Mulder,"
"Helps me relate to them better."
"Sure," the woman replied. "But if you don't mind,
I haven't been one much
for formality as of late. Ever since I got hooked up with Starfleet,
been nothing but 'Dr. Mulder'."
Beverly chuckled. "All right, we'll drop it then. I know
what you mean,
though. Samantha, right? You can call me Beverly if you want."
Dr. Samantha Mulder grinned to herself, as if she were pondering
joke. "Call me Dana."
"Sure," Beverly agreed, admittedly a bit confused. "Why
"I've had a lot of names through the years, but I've always
been partial to
Dana. I don't suppose that's really too strange...it's the name
I was born
"Why'd you change it to Samantha then?" Beverly asked.
She'd felt a
connection to this woman the second they'd met...as though they
much more in common than their fiery red hair and crystal-clear
She felt a kindredship to her--not knowing why. Beverly loved
Dana shrugged. "I don't know. It was one of the few I'd never
the...well, the emotional strength, if you will, to try. Thought
it'd be a
nice change of pace."
"The name 'Samantha Mulder'...it has a lot of intense personal
attached to it for me," Dana admitted, moving to the couch.
"I doubt I'll
ever be able to go by Dana Mulder...Samantha was about as close
as I could
get without breaking down every time I heard my name."
Beverly pondered this, and slowly smiled. "I get the impression
someone special in your life named Mulder."
"'Special' is the understatement of the year." Dana's
wistful. "Mulder and I were soulmates. It took me much too
long to realize
it. I should have been Dana Mulder in *his* lifetime. Lord knows
he gave me
enough opportunities. I was just too much of a fool to realize
myself his name now...it would be too hard. So I used his sister's.
loved her very much, you know..."
Beverly hadn't really heard the last two sentences, or if she
had, she hadn't
paid attention. Her own memories, thought long buried, were rising
surface. "I know how you feel, Dana. I know that sounds incredible,
believe me, I do. After my husband died, it was so hard to hear
me Beverly Crusher. I'd lost him...but after awhile, I realized
that one part of him more than anything. Well, more than anything
our son. But in time, I gave up the ideas of going back to my
Because the best way to keep his memory alive was to carry his
name. Do you
get what I'm saying?"
Dana nodded. "Yeah, I get it. And you make a very good point.
But in the
long run, what I call myself is irrelevant. The only one I'm keeping
memory alive for is myself. Everyone who ever knew him is dead
being the notable exception. I'll keep the name another thirty
perhaps forty...maybe even shorter if I tire of it before then...but
I'll fake my death, and change it, and fake some more birth records,
start over. Like I've been doing for longer than I care to remember.
had many names. Christine Carter...Charlene Boyce...Kimberly Raven...they've
all been me. There are a lot more, too...I was Margaret Skinner
for a little
while. It wouldn't mean anything to you, but *I* found it quite
"I'll take your word for it," Beverly said, smiling.
"So why the act? Why
keep changing your identity?"
"Because I don't want anyone to get suspicious," Dana
explained. "I don't
even know why I'm telling you. I trust few people anymore--well,
really trusted anyone for the longest time. But I feel I can trust
Beverly. Don't ask me why, but I don't deny my feelings often.
So I'll tell you the truth about me...my whole story. But I do
ask that it
not leave this room."
"Of course," Beverly promised. "You've got my word."
"Good." Dana sighed, in a contemplative way. "I'm
hardly the same person I
used to be. But after so long, I've stopped worrying about that.
change. People change. That's just the way life is. And, boy,
know. Immortality isn't all it's cracked up to be. It's not a
gift; it's a
curse. At least in my experience. I should have listened to Fellig."
Dana waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, long story. I suppose
about the immortality thing."
"I must admit I'm curious." Beverly settled back in
her chair, and pulled
her hair away from her face. "But I assume you're getting
ready to tell me
"I'm functionally immortal, and I hate it. Despise it. Sure,
wonderful seeing humanity progress, but it's too stiff a price
for me." Dana
paused, and continued with her story. "I was born as Dana
in '64. *19*64. To make a long story short, as I best understand
didn't die when my time came. Another took my place...a man who
me about the downside of immortality. I didn't listen to him.
I didn't see
how there could be such a thing as 'too much life'. I was wrong.
have too much life."
Beverly--normally very open to different ideas--surprised herself
tiniest hint of skepticism. "You were born in 1964?"
"I know this sounds more than a little crazy," the other
woman sighed, "but I
swear it's the truth. I was an agent with the FBI--Federal Bureau
Investigation. That's how I met Mulder. He was my partner. We
each other at first...neither of us believed a word the other
changed quickly. We became best friends. He once told me I was
the only one
he trusted. We'd have laid down our lives for each other, no questions
asked. We almost did a few times. It was dangerous work, but we
It was an obsession for him...it was his life. And, as a result,
mine. Then things happened...our division was closed down. We
to boring assignments like background checks. It was because we'd
close to the truth. The powers-that-were didn't like that. So
they took it
away from us. On one of those assignments I was assigned a new
name was Peyton Ritter. Frankly, I didn't like him. But our suspect
to be immortal because he'd missed his chance at death. Some nurse
his place when it had been his time to die. So he went looking
for dying people, so he could face death and die. He hated his
He'd only had 160 or so years of it, but that was more than enough
I thought he was crazy." She paused, looking down. "Now
I know just how
right he was."
"So you have a death wish?" Beverly asked, a little
worried for her new
friend's state of mind.
"No, not in the traditional sense. I've started to enjoy
this life for now.
I feel useful at least. I wish I could die, but I don't want to
"I see," Beverly replied, vowing to completely understand
that last sentence
eventually. "So what happened to make *you* immortal?"
Scully shrugged. "Ritter shot me. It was an accident, really...more
less. He didn't know I was in the room, he shot at our suspect,
bullet went through Fellig and into me."
"Fellig was your suspect?" Beverly guessed. She was
answered by a nod.
"Mmm-hmm. Anyhow, I would have bled to death before the ambulance
I was a doctor back then too, I knew these things. Besides, I
death out of the corner of my eye. Or what I thought was death.
there, dying. Then Fellig said something like, 'Close your eyes.'
what he had in mind. I actually lost consciousness at that point.
woke up in the hospital and was told I would live. But Fellig
was dead. I
knew what had happened."
"He took your place," Beverly said, comprehending. "He
faced death for
you...and you were left with the immortality."
"Precisely." Scully blew a lock of auburn hair away
from her eyes. "I threw
out the possibility at first, for years and years. I knew that
not live forever, and that was that. Fellig had been extremely
throughout life, the way I saw it. I thought the ambulance had
sooner and saved me. But I never thought I'd live forever. I guess
noticed that something was kind of strange when I didn't seem
to be getting
any older after a point. I got to about 45, and I quit aging.
great, just strange. And then when I had lived well past my normal
lifespan...well, I knew. So I faked my death, and started a new
elsewhere with a new name. It wasn't hard. It's easy for a doctor
to fake a
birth certificate, you should know that. I've kept up the same
since. I go back to med school every 20 years or so to keep up...unless
just feel like taking a break from medicine for a while. My different
personas have a tendency to die fairly young...55, 60. It saves
having to explain why I literally have not aged a day. But if
I really like
it, a little makeup and haircolor can last me another few years.
the same cycle, over and over. I'm really sick of it. I'm over
"I know someone who has you beat," Beverly replied good-naturedly,
cheer her up.
"Yeah, Guinan." Scully chuckled. "I met her back
in 2026, in San Francisco.
I think she's the only other person who knows my secret."
She leaned closer
to Beverly, looking at her seriously. "You know how they
say the grass is
always greener on the other side of the fence? It's true. People
living forever would be wonderful. It's a living hell sometimes.
A lot of
the time, actually. Everyone I ever knew when I started out life,
when I had
my life as I loved it...they're all dead. Mulder, my family, Walter
the Lone Gunmen...my daughters. They all died *centuries* ago!
daughter Vera died is when the 'novelty' really wore off. It wasn't
pain of losing a child...it was the pain of knowing that I was
all alone too.
Vera was all I had left. She was the only one...and then she died.
didn't. I never would. I was sick of it. I was sick of it before
too...but losing Vera was when I reached the end of my rope, so
"So do you want to tell me about it?" Beverly asked,
then realized she
sounded just like a psychologist. Ah, well, blame it on one too
late-night chats with Deanna.
"Sure, why not? You wanted the whole story, you'll get it.
But this is
gonna take awhile."
"No rush. We both just got off duty, remember?"
"Of course," Scully said. She paused a moment, and took
a deep breath before
continuing. "Feel free to cut me off at anytime, now."
And she began to tell her tale.
Okay, it's like I told you. I was born on February 23, 1964, the
four children. Billy was 7 when I was born, Missy was 2...and
born a year and a half later. My parents' names were William and
I was a tomboy when I was younger...my sister Melissa tried to
once I was about 13, maybe 14. I was basically a happy, normal
least as normal as a Navy brat's life gets.
I'd always wanted to be a doctor, ever since I was six years old.
was my first love. So I went to med school, I graduated...and
graduation day I was contacted by a scout from the FBI. I took
him up on his
offer, and set aside my medical career to be a special agent for
the FBI. I
thought it would be the best use of my talents, the best way to
difference. I became a forensic pathologist, and did some teaching
Quantico. I was pretty happy with my life, even though my parents
the FBI as an act of total rebellion. But I think they were more
about my getting hurt than anything. Looking back on it now, they
probably right in that aspect. But in a way, they shouldn't have
mean, just look at me now.
Then things changed. I was assigned to debunk what was known as
Project. It was just a project then, not a division. Mulder and
I turned it
into a division, with a little help from our boss, Walter Skinner.
Mulder and I were assigned to work together, we didn't exactly
hit it off at
first, but after an unusual trip to the "very plausible"
state of Oregon,
things started to change. Our very first case pulled us closer.
We were the
best of friends before anyone knew it. And I'd learned that there
massive conspiracy there as well. "They" shut us down,
and I was kidnapped
by a man named Duane Barry shortly thereafter. I was turned over
and all I know for certain is that hideous tests were done to
me. I'd rather
not dwell on it. I was returned three months later, Mulder managed
the X-Files back, and things went somewhat smoothly until the
office was all
but destroyed in a fire. It was a fire set to get rid of the X-Files
good; I'm still convinced of that to this day. A lot of other
happened, and it was during the time that Mulder and I were off
that I had my little adventure with Ritter and Fellig in New York
Oh, what about after that? Well, we had some definite adventures--including
a haunted house that I'll have to tell you all about. Another
time. It's a
long story too, and I like to deal with one long story at a time.
of glazing over seven years worth of the X-Files, forgive me.
Most of it
isn't relevant. Except the one time a man named Clyde Bruckman
forecasting how I would die. He said I didn't. I thought he was
with me at the time; he had been earlier. Sometimes I wonder if
was psychic after all.
Things really got interesting when Mulder was abducted. I found
out I was
pregnant shortly after that. We'd never slept together, it seemed
impossible. And I certainly hadn't been seeing anyone. But I *had*
drugged by an...enemy...of ours a couple of months earlier, and
as it turns
out, he arranged for me to get pregnant during those hours. With
baby, no less. That was Vera. Her name meant "truth"
cornerstones of everything Mulder and I had searched for all those
She was born a month before Mulder was returned. You should have
look on his face when I walked into that hospital room carrying
"I'd imagine it was priceless," Beverly said, laughing.
Scully's expression livened a bit. "Priceless doesn't even
begin to describe
it. Especially since I wasn't able to *have* children."
"It takes a lot of explanation...but during that time that
I was missing,
they did something to me that left me infertile. They also harvested
ova...to create children that they could run hideous experiments
Beverly gasped, thinking of her own child for a moment. "That's
"I found one of them, you know," Scully sighed, her
eyes cast downward as she
remembered the all-too-short life of her little girl. "She
was three years
old--her name was Emily. She looked just like my sister."
"What happened to her?" Beverly asked, fearing the answer.
"She had a rare form of anemia--they'd given it to her to
test cures for it.
She got sick...and eventually, she slipped into a coma, and died."
words were extremely difficult for Scully, even after all these
pain of Emily's death sometimes was as fresh and real as if it
yesterday--as was the pain of all the deaths she'd had to endure
in her life.
Losing her children had been, without a shadow of a doubt, the
that didn't mean the others had been easy. Especially not Mulder.
didn't like to think about that, though, so she shifted her train
"I'm sorry," Beverly whispered. Her heart went out to
the other woman--both
as a mother and a doctor. She couldn't believe that there had
been such evil
in the 20th century world that there were men who would do things
least of all to a child. What truly scared her sometimes was the
that the same evil still existed in the 24th century, lurking
in the dark
corners of the human (and not human, for that matter) psyche.
Oh, great, now
she was sounding like a psychologist again.
Scully managed a little half-smile, and nodded. "I was luckier
though. It was something I worried about for a long time, but
perfectly healthy little girl. Normal in every way except her
conception...and perhaps her parentage. And when Mulder found
about her, he was thrilled. He would have been a wonderful father
"Would have been?" Beverly asked gently.
"We couldn't raise her on our own," Scully explained.
"We had the means, the
ability, and certainly the love...but not the safety. It was simply
dangerous--for Vera, not us. There were men who'd have made her
subject like Emily...men who'd have killed her without a second
men who wanted her just for who she was. We had to let my brother
raise her. Well, Charlie and his wife. They had 3 kids already
happy to take her--and they lived in England. It was farther away
'ground zero', so to speak. Plus, Charlie didn't despise Mulder
the way Bill
did. So all in all, it was a good deal."
"Did you see her?"
"When we could. But she grew up thinking I was her aunt and
nothing more to her than a friend of mine that she happened to
couldn't bring ourselves to tell her the truth then. We didn't
want her to
feel like we'd abandoned her. So we didn't tell her that we were
parents. And we made my family swear not to tell her either."
"So what happened then?"
A tiny smile flitted across Scully's lips, and she sighed. "Well..."
Things were really good for awhile, with the exception of Vera's
Most people in the Bureau knew that Vera was my daughter and Mulder's,
just assumed that she had been conceived in the natural way. We
think what they wanted. After all, it gave them something to talk
didn't move in with each other, though...I think that really threw
them for a
loop. But we didn't care what they said. Mulder even asked me
to marry him
once, seriously. Like a fool, I turned him down as gently as I
didn't want to hurt him, but I wasn't ready to marry him. Looking
back on it
now, I realize I was scared. You know that feeling? You want something
badly, yet you're terrified of it. It was ridiculous. Actually,
comes to mind. I hate the singer...you wouldn't know about Britney
Beverly, just consider yourself lucky. But "sometimes I'm
you...when all I really want is to hold you tight". That
was me with Mulder.
Britney Spears actually served a purpose after all. It's a miracle.
wish someone like Shania Twain or Celine Dion had sung the song.
liked them. Maybe Leanne Rhimes? Forget it. I'm getting way off
confusing you besides.
Things took a turn for the worse awhile later. Mulder died, and
never the same after that. Not really. Oh, Skinner was wonderful,
the Lone Gunmen. They were so supportive...but it didn't matter.
gone, and that was all I could comprehend for the longest time.
Oh, the Lone Gunmen? They were some friends of ours...conspiracy
actually. I'd always thought they were slightly bent, but they
wonderful friends. Sometimes I don't know how I'd have ever made
A few months after Mulder died, I was finally able to go back
to the X-Files.
I figured that I'd have to carry the torch, like I did when he
gone...but this time for good. In retrospect, I'm almost glad
we didn't have
Vera with us then...actually, I *am* glad of it. She was spared
the way I was at the time. I was a mess...but I eventually managed
it together and go on.
As it turned out, Skinner had dated a woman named Jana Cassidy
back in their
Academy days. She was another assistant director of the FBI...frankly,
didn't trust her, mainly because of the past between us. But it
seemed to me she was up to something.
When Cassidy wanted his help on a special investigation of hers,
suspicious. I told Skinner as much, but he thought I was just
cautious because of losing Mulder. While that may have been true,
the whole story. He didn't listen to me, and decided to help his
girlfriend out anyway. I don't blame his generosity; I only wish
the time to look at it more closely. To see what he was getting
Sure enough, he was in over his head before he knew it. I tried
to help him,
but there really wasn't much I could do by that point except wish
taken my advice in the first place and stayed the heck out of
Cassidy was a conniving little witch; I'd always known it. Or,
suspected it. I had proof, finally, but it was a little too high
a price for
my tastes. Some of my best proof has taken too high a price.
I can't remember exactly what trigged it, but I soon realized
that their plan
all along had been to use Skinner and lose him. They were going
to kill him
when he no longer fit their purposes. And, sadly enough, these
the money, the connections, and the manpower to murder an assistant
and actually get away with it. I called him at home, but there
answer, so I rushed over to his apartment to warn him.
I was too late.
Always too late, I think sometimes. Too late to help Mulder, too
save Skinner. Too late to say goodbye to Missy and have it mean
Too late to find Emily, too late to find a cure for her. Too late
Logically, I realize it isn't my fault that Skinner was killed.
It was Jana
Cassidy's, her little conspiracy's. But I blamed myself for months
too late. That's not to say that I never do anymore, but it's
gotten to a
point where it doesn't occupy my thoughts every hour of every
day. In other
words, it's manageable. There's not a day that goes by I don't
wish I had it
all to do over, to change things. Sure, he'd have still died of
eventually, but I could have at least spared him the kind of death
Shot in the chest, twice, point-blank range. My only comfort is
that it was quick.
Would I haven taken his place, faced death for him? At the time,
retrospect--no, because I now know about the immortality thing.
And this is
a fate I wouldn't wish on anyone. Well, maybe CGB Spender--but
do me any good because he was pure evil. He'd just continue playing
games. And he never felt anything. The man shot his own son! How
gone can one get? No...releasing an immortal CGB Spender on the
be like inviting Armageddon.
When Vera was fifteen, I finally told her the truth about her
past. I was so
afraid she'd turn away from me, knowing how I'd all but lied to
her for so
long. But she didn't. With the miraculous love only a child can
turned *to* me instead. She never questioned a thing. Never questioned
motives. It still amazes me. But kids always keep you guessing.
She was so much like her father--I really learned that once she
came to live
with me. She had his quick intelligence, and quicker wit...she
even looked a
lot like him. After awhile, she even decided that she wanted to
name. Charlie had nicknamed her "Destiny"...it was short
Child. I always thought it was cute, but I had no clue just how
was. I wouldn't for some time. She had been given to me--given
serve a purpose. I think she knew it subconsciously all the time,
realized it. I know every mother had high hopes for her child,
but even this
was beyond my wildest dreams. More on that later. If I get out
of a sort of
chronological order now, I'll never catch up. I may be immortal,
but I'm not
perfect. Hell, I never claimed to be.
My mother's death was very hard for me--we were extremely close.
But I took
a small amount of solace in knowing that she had died peacefully--naturally,
in her sleep.
Vera was a godsend through that. I know she was taking it pretty
but she was there, by my side, the whole time. Always lending
me a shoulder
to cry on--or anything else I needed. I'd seen too much death
in my life by
then. It was so much different when I was working...forensic pathology
different. A new body on the autopsy table, nothing spectacular
Another person died and it was my job to find out how. I might
have felt for
them, but I was always separated from it. After Mom died...I don't
guess it was the straw that broke my back. I couldn't do it anymore.
sick of death.
There was a job opening at Georgetown University Medical Center...I
I still had my medicine--I hadn't gone so far as to throw everything
do something completely different--but I went back to school for
while and took a course in obstetrics. I could bring lives *into*
for once, instead of figuring out why they'd left it. I'd only
delivered one baby before that--and it had been an emergency situation--but
I'd really liked it, in the end. So I resigned from the Bureau.
lose my enemies in doing so, but at least I was a little happier.
started to heal after Mom's death...I had Vera...and the Gunmen
were still on
my side as ever. Things were all right. Nowhere near as good as
have been, of course, but I'd almost gotten used to having a bunch
of crap in
my life. I was dealing with it, and rather well, I thought.
Until the accident.
Until fate decided to screw with my life yet again.
Disclaimed, etc. in part 1
I forget where we were going at the time, or why we were going
there. In a
way, I'm glad I wasn't cursed with Mulder's nearly photographic
Sometimes it's good to forget a few things every now and then.
In any case, Byers and I were driving on the Beltway when the
happened. That wasn't unusual in and of itself--accidents were
common on the
Beltway. And I don't think it was *planned*, I just think we just
bad luck to be in a wreck when some idiot was driving "under
But it was one more piece of crap in my life that I really could
I remember coming to, and feeling something in my eyes--my blood.
used to seeing blood--even my own blood--and lots of it. Even
babies brought with it a certain amount of blood--it's something
can escape in the medical profession. You know that, of course...but
thing I could never get used to was seeing other people's blood
needlessly. I'm not squeamish--and even if I were, my work on
would have cured me of that--but I can't stand to see my friends
Especially over something so stupid. Like a freaking car accident.
by a stupid drunk driver.
I remember how bad it looked. Luckily, it looked a lot worse than
but I was terrified at the time that I was going to lose another
one of my
friends right then and there. There was blood, everywhere. I should
known it wasn't as awful as it seemed right off the bat...Byers
was trying to
smooth his hair back into place and calm me down. I don't want
to make him
seem vain--really, he wasn't. Not at all. It's just that...well,
really have had to known John Byers. He always wore these 3-piece
despite the weather. Could've been the dog days of August, he'd
still be in
one of his suits...complete with natty tie. His hair was always
perfect...his beard was always trimmed the same way. That's just
the way he
was. Some people thought he was obsessive-compulsive, and I can
point. But if something was different about the way Byers looked--*that's*
when we all started to worry.
All in all, we lucked out in the accident, if you really want
to put it that
way. The worst that was done to Byers were a few nasty cuts and
arm; I was just cut and bruised. But I think there was some psychological
damage too. No, I *know* there was.
I'd developed the same abandonment issues I'd always cursed in
Mulder. I was
positively terrified that I was going to lose the people that
I was closest
too. Most people could understand it, but I hated any kind of
myself. I always had. So I talked to Karen Kossef. She and I had
long-standing relationship, and she was one of the few people
left that I
could really confide in by that point. Oh, sure, I could confide
Gunmen too...but this was one of those problems that I just couldn't
myself taking to them. I knew what I'd get. "We'll always
"We'll never leave you."
Those hollow reassurances weren't what I wanted.
I heard a song on the radio on the way to meet Karen. "Save
think it was called. It wasn't my usual brand of music, but I
listened to it
anyway. "I cannot save you...I can't even save myself. So
yourself." Amazing how stupid little details like that stick
through the years. It struck me that this was my problem, in a
had--somehow or another--managed to get it into my head that I
had to save
everyone. And I couldn't. I was helpless myself in some ways.
maybe that wasn't totally my problem. But it was a good enough
at the time. I did go to see Karen, still, but it was mostly lip
figured I'd solved my own problem. I should have realized by then
solving my own problems led to most of my problems. Karen even
me that many of my problems might stem from the fact that I never
Mulder how I felt about him. She was kind enough to warn me that
everyone how much they really meant to me wouldn't solve my problems...but
might make me feel a little better. At least I listened to her
on that. It
*didn't* provide an instant solution. But at least I knew none
of them would
have to wonder. I did feel a little better.
Most people I've talked to wonder why the accident was even that
in the scheme of things, if we were both all right. I wondered
myself for a time. Then I realized that it was the one thing that
wake up and realize I needed help, and shouldn't be afraid to
go seek it. I
needed to realize it, and it was better sooner than later. I'd
waited long enough.
"So what happened after that?" Beverly asked. "From
your tone, I'm assuming
things improved somewhat."
"Yeah," Scully answered, "fortunately, they did.
Langly had a run-in with a
psychopathic serial killer with an obsession for crucifixion,
turned out okay. He escaped, if just barely."
"'Psychopathic serial killer with an obsession for crucifixion?"
"Sometimes it's best not to ask too many questions."
"That was definitely one of the odder situations Langly got
But, other than that, everything was fine...until about 2019."
"When the new alliance really got strong?" Beverly asked,
a bit surprised.
She thought that had been a good thing.
"Yes, but it's the reasoning behind it. The alliance was
started in 2017 by
corrupt men in our government, Beverly. Men who knew what was
suspected as much at the time...Vera was convinced of it. Most
thought we were just paranoid. But the alliance was nowhere near
as it could have been, and that's why it fell so easily when World
broke out. 2019 is when it really picked up speed and everyone
enchanted with it."
"Except you and your daughter?"
"And the Lone Gunmen, of course." Scully shrugged. "Probably
others, but no
one we knew."
"So what happened?" Beverly asked, truly intrigued.
She hadn't heard a story
like this in a very long time--and all of it was true. That was
"Well, you know that World War III broke out in 2053. But
what you don't
know--what they've never told you--is that it had been planned
beforehand. *Decades*. Maybe even centuries, if you listen to
theories. It was in 2025 that things got *really* interesting."
It isn't in your history books, Beverly--and it never will be--but
III's first battle did not take place on March 28, 2053. It was
16, 2025. I'll never forget the date. I'd suffer more personal
loss, I'd be
wounded myself...and I'd deny everything later. Oh, not the personal
loss--I'll never deny that. But I saw things that day...that simply
be explained by my science or my belief system. So I denied seeing
saw and chalked it up to traumatic stress.
You have to understand something. By the limits of 20th century
science...extraterrestrial life was simply implausible, if not
We didn't think warp drive was even possible! So, being a scientist--and
skeptic by nature--I completely discounted the possibility of
and I counterbalanced each other nicely--he was a believer, all
the way. So
was Vera. I swear she had to have inherited that from him...Charlie
really had an opinion on the subject and Lord knows I never encouraged
But on that one day in 2025, I have to say my convictions were
tested if not
It started innocently enough, but it always seems that everything
just gotten off work--earlier than usual, in fact. Vera met me
for a late
lunch, and we headed over to the Lone Gunmen's lair. I don't know
to call it, frankly. They lived there, they worked there, they
there... In any case, we ended up at their personal headquarters.
said that they had something strange for us to look at.
"Check this out," he said, showing us a video screen
with a man's face on it.
"Now where have we seen him before?"
"That's the Bounty Hunter!" I exclaimed, recognizing
the man immediately.
"The alien Bounty Hunter?" Frohike asked.
I remember muttering something about how he wasn't an alien, and
know what he was really up to. He was a man who had the ability
shapeshift. At the time, I figured--rather, reasoned to myself--that
an extra layer of muscle right under the skin or something that
this. We'd seen it happen before, with a man named Eddie VanBlundht.
had reasoned that our shapeshifting friend was a sort of bounty
that's what we called him. We didn't know who he really was. I
what he really was, but I still couldn't tell you who.
Vera was on edge, more so than usual. She had a sort of spooky
when something was going to happen--something else she'd gotten
father. I'd learned that inexplicable as those premonitions might
they were worth listening to. So we decided to play it safe the
rest of that
day. The Gunmen went with Vera and I to the Bounty Hunter's last
location. We knew full well that we were tempting fate, but a
part of me
missed this--the excitement, the thrill of the chase...something
I never got
from medicine, much as I may have loved it.
There was a group of people there, and I felt strangely drawn
to them. Not
drawn emotionally, but physically. It was probably the chip I
had in my
neck--the one that was keeping my cancer in check. I think the
up on this right away. I'd never told Vera about the chip, so
suspect a thing.
That's when we saw the Bounty Hunter. He was arguing with a man
who had no
face. Literally, he had no face. He--like others of his kind--had
their faces, mutilated themselves, in exchange for a weird sort
protection. We'd called them the Faceless Rebels. They were in
a war of
sorts with the Bounty Hunter's people, a war that had been raging
I don't know if you heard of the Georgetown Massacre or not, but
it was. That's what they called it.
It began when the Rebel was joined by several more...and apparently
Bounty Hunter had backup too. The people who were there...who'd
wandered by or been "called" there...they were innocent
bystanders. We all
were. But they were killed anyway. Not just by fire--which was
only defense--but also by the Bounty Hunter's more...physical
We were innocent bystanders, but we didn't sit idly by. We fought.
fought long and hard...and lost. The Rebels were trying to destroy
Bounty Hunter aliens' work. The Bounty Hunters were trying to
Rebel efforts. Those of us who were there and fought weren't fighting
either side. We were simply fighting to stay alive.
The media later called the incident the Georgetown Massacre. I
was an appropriate enough title, even if it wasn't *technically*
Georgetown. They assumed a couple of gang members had started
thing. They didn't know the truth.
Things wouldn't have been as bad, but people pulled guns, and
shooting wildly. I understand their reasoning--they were scared,
attacked, and they didn't know why. But more people got hurt.
died. Luckily, no one hit any of the Bounty Hunters there...their
contains a retrovirus that's deadly to humans--and to the Rebels.
the Rebels mutilated themselves they way the did. To protect themselves.
Out of the 78 people there that night (not counting the Rebels
or the Bounty
Hunters), only 7 survived. Those who didn't get caught in the
were either killed by the Bounty Hunters or caught by a stray
I shouldn't have lived through that night, by any means. I was
remember the blinding pain as the bullet tore into my chest. I
collapsing to the ground--then waking up in the hospital. Vera
was by my
side, her arm in a sling. She told me that I was unbelievably
lucky to have
lived. At first, I thought she was just scared by the chest wound...but
I read my chart. I should have died almost instantly. The bullet
through-and-through--given Fellig's physical reaction to such
doesn't surprise me. But it nicked my aorta before ripping through
of my chest. I'd have bled to death right then and there. But
And that's when I knew.
Forget what I said earlier about outliving my normal lifespan.
I was already
suspicious about the immortality issue, given that I hadn't been
when I saw my chart, the extent of my injuries...I knew. I knew
inherited Fellig's curse. Given that I was awake and alert the
day after the
injury (and surgery), there was no longer any doubt in my mind.
Beverly frowned--not in disbelief, she was just trying to figure
"So you *can* be injured?"
Scully chuckled softly. "I'm immortal, Beverly, not invincible.
Yes, I can
be injured, but I somehow manage to pull through every time, extremely
quickly, and be perfectly fine. Fellig was different--it wouldn't
him. But in a way, I kind of like it. Makes me still feel somewhat
"What happened after you woke up?" Beverly asked.
The smile faded from Scully's face, and she sighed, obviously
emotions. It was obvious this was the continuation of another
in the story of her life.
Vera and I talked about trivial things for awhile after I regained
consciousness. But I knew that there was something she was holding
something she didn't want to have to tell me.
"Vera, what's wrong?" I asked.
She smiled as best she could, given the inner turmoil she had
experiencing. "What are you talking about?"
"Come on, Vera. You can't hide this from me for long. I'm
going to find out
sooner or later, honey, and I'd rather it be sooner. I know there's
She looked down and away, her green eyes feeling with tears. "Mom...maybe
this should wait until you're feeling a little better."
"Vera, I feel fine!" I hadn't meant to snap at her,
but I really needed to
know what had happened.
She told me then. There had only been 7 survivors of that particular
holocaust. She and I had lived...along with Langly, who was in
but alive. Byers and Frohike had been killed along with the others.
I couldn't believe it. I had needed them in my life for so long
confidants, my own personal support system. And they were gone.
crying, and I don't think I stopped for nearly six hours. I knew
was wishing she'd waited to break the news to me, but I was glad
I knew. If
I'd held false hopes that they were alive beforehand, and then
been told the
truth, I don't know what I would have done.
It took me a long time before I was able to go on with my life
again. I may
have experienced a lot of personal losses before, but that didn't
dealing with them any easier. Langly was a wreck as well--he'd
closer to them than I had. Vera did what she could for us, but
she was only
faring slightly better than we were in dealing with it.
After we'd gotten past the initial period of grief, we started
trying to sort
out what had happened that night. This was when I'd started denying
there had been aliens there that night. Langly and Vera couldn't
it...but sad to say, that was so typical of me back then. Throw
everything I'd seen, chalk it up to stress...just because it conflicted
what I wanted to believe. I was supposed to be an objective scientist--but
sometimes I wasn't very objective at all. It amazes me now--knowing
know, seeing what I've seen--that I could have ever been so blind.
Things got better, for a while. I told Vera and Langly about my
as I knew it...they were shocked, to say the least. Shocked that
live forever, shocked that I believed it. They dealt with it remarkably
well, though. I mean, I didn't really expect that. You find out
you're close to is going to live forever--knowing full well that
won't--ideally, you think that would be a good thing. You won't
worry about losing them. But you would also feel separated from
them...they're not on the same level as you anymore. Langly and
saw the negative side of the equation--or if they did, they never
show. And I blessed them for that.
I never told anyone else but them--this was information that my
really need, with the exception of Vera. And other than Langly,
have anyone left but my family.
I had no idea just how vital Vera was to the equation back then.
She was my
daughter; she meant the world to me, of course. But I didn't know--I
never have known--just how much she meant to the world.
Disclaimed and so on in part 1
March 28, 2053, came all too soon.
I'd undergone a few changes by then, of course. People were certainly
to question why an 88-year-old woman didn't look any more than
45. So Dana
Scully had died on April 2, 2052, and Laura Foxx had appeared.
By the time the war started, Vera had just turned 52. But she
denied her age
very well--as did most of the women in my family, and I'm not
myself. She was also one of those people who acted and felt a
than she really was. She looked about 40, and acted about 25.
So it was a
good combination for her--especially considering what was to come.
World War III was a nuclear war, but we didn't start it out that
way. No one
intended for that to happen, it just sort of...did. Here's the
though. The one thing you would never have suspected, even in
dreams. The ECON? Eastern Coalition? Our main adversaries in that
They were colonists.
Not colonists like in the 1700's, colonists as in alien colonists.
people the Bounty Hunter and his kind were after for a sort of
to the "rules" as they saw them. They were aliens.
First contact was officially in 2063, when the Vulcans landed
in that Montana
clearing. But it happened much before that, with only a select
knowing. A corrupt few, I might add. Their intentions, I suppose,
enough--to prevent the aliens from colonizing, taking over, and
humanity into a slave race--but their methods were pure evil.
sacrificed family members to the Project, never giving it a second
They murdered hundreds of people...and that's not even half of
it. And, in
the end, their efforts failed. The date for colonization to begin
set--even though it had apparently been delayed--and nothing could
the colonists from thinking that the human race had forfeited
Left it open for another species to inhabit.
They certainly weren't subtle. Before it turned to nuclear weapons,
it was a
biological war. They released an alien virus that would make humans
their young. It had been loose for years, anyway, but never near
of large population. Never intentionally. I'd actually survived
previously, due to a weak vaccine the Syndicate had developed
and given to
Mulder. I'm not sure if Vera was given immunity to the virus during
events that were necessary for her conception, or if she'd somehow
it from me...but she was immune as well. I was eternally grateful
that--Vera was the only person I had left in the world by that
Everyone else had died, whether it had been from natural causes
Well, except for a my niece and a couple of my nephews...but they
the early days of the war.
Those of us who managed to survive lived in camps set up on our
own, with the
few possessions we had left. You saw in Montana what it was like.
nomadic and tough as nails. We'd move when we had to, do whatever
Rule Number One was simple: Do whatever you have to do to stay
The nuclear weapons came later, after the colonists had all the
slaves they needed. I guess their theory was "take what you
the rest". That made things a lot tougher. We couldn't hang
around on the
outskirts of cities anymore; the blast radius was too wide. We
retreat to the middle of nowhere--backwoods, out of the way areas.
there, we had no clue what was going on...and we never knew if
that was a
good thing or not. And, of course, our armies fought back--causing
As they took the cities, the colonists invaded them and took up
But since they were able to take human form, no one would have
that they were not of that world. Vera and I knew immediately,
once we got
reports of the alien virus. I didn't want to believe--and I still
think I ever accepted extraterrestrial existence until the official
contact--but a tiny part of me knew that colonization had come.
It was hell. If you thought the post-atomic horror was bad, just
the atomic horror. Countries were uniting against the threat--some
with the colonists out of fear. Some were forced to. The Rebels
away--we actually could have used their help. But for whatever
decided to keep out of it.
300 million people died in that war, Beverly. 300 *million*. To
this day, I
cannot comprehend that. Knowing that many people died--knowing
how many of
them were innocent civilians, knowing how many of them were helpless
children. And knowing that only one of them was one of the colonists.
The post-atomic horror courtrooms began long before the war was
were as awful as your historical documents show them, and worse.
born and bred by people who lived every moment in fear of their
always seemed that the most corrupt people would preside. There
was no jury;
you could hardly call it a trial! You were guilty until proven
you had to represent yourself. The audience certainly wasn't much
were as bad as the spectators at the Roman gladiator games--bloodthirsty
looking for entertainment. Naturally, most people steered clear
could help it.
It was hellish to begin with, and it got more hellish as the years
on. In the previous world wars, there was always someplace in
the world you
could be away from it at. Somewhere where you knew of the war,
faced with it in your own backyard every day. There wasn't any
that then. The war was everywhere. The destruction was beyond
Humanity needed a
savior, and desperately. There was no way we would ever have survived
end of that war without one--save turning ourselves over to the
We'd rather have died first than do that. As with all alliances,
ECON--as the colonist force had come to be known--had a leader.
weaker colonists, the rebel colonists, had all fled by this time.
colonists we were dealing with at that point were so devoted to
order and way of doing things that bringing down the leader would
all down. Unfortunately, there was no way any average human could
Fortunately, Vera Hope Mulder was no average human.
Not only would taking the colonist's leader down be difficult,
*finding* him. He was, of course, well-protected. Plus, there
was only one
way to kill them. A direct hit to the base of the neck--preferably
little stiletto-like weapon. Understandably, those were somewhat
Years ago, though, Mulder had come across one--kept hidden in
a lamp at his
family's summer house in Rhode Island. He'd left me almost everything
his death, and I'd always kept that--admittedly more for sentimental
than practicality. *He'd* thought it was important. My sentimentality
It was one of the few things I'd been able to keep with me that
of him...it was small enough to be easily hidden--which was a
because there was no way the colonists would want me to have it,
knowledge of them I had.
I think once Vera saw it, she knew her destiny. I might sound
over-dramatic, but there was really only one person who could
accomplished the task--and effectively saved humanity. It was
still amazed by that, but Vera never ceased to amaze me. She also
immunity to the retrovirus that was in the aliens' blood...which
made her the
only logical candidate for the job. The only way to kill the colonists
the wound to the base of the neck, but if you hurt them, they
And kill you in the process. That virus gave human blood the approximate
consistency of tapioca pudding. I did an autopsy on a victim once;
testify to that. And I had to snatch Mulder back from death's
when he had been infected with it.
The only thing was, the human body couldn't develop an immunity
retrovirus. I'd never been exposed to it...and even after his
Mulder still had no immunity. So Vera couldn't have inherited
from either one of us. She'd had to have been *given* the immunity
point. That was when I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that my
had been given to me for a purpose.
The purpose being that she would truly become "Destiny's
Child". She would
save humankind from the alien threat. Naturally, I was more than
shocked by this--and scared. I had only recently accepted the
these alien beings; now my daughter had to save us from them.
And I knew
full well that even with her viral immunity, it was a mission
from which she
might not return.
You know that song I mentioned earlier, "Save Yourself"?
I was thinking of
more of it. "I am not your savior; I am just as fucked as
you." That may
have applied to me...but it certainly didn't to Vera. That was
She had been given to me for a purpose--to rescue us, deliver
us from those
dark days of post-colonization. I only hoped that she hadn't been
While the original details of the plan escape me at the moment,
Vera found a
way to infiltrate the colonist's "camp", pretending
to be a sympathizer.
They hadn't been warned about her beforehand--no, Vera was something
secret weapon. Mulder had been intended to be the original person
job so to speak...but after colonization was delayed, apparently
chain-smoking "friend" thought he needed a child to
carry the legacy on.
It was probably the only decent thing the SOB ever did in his
Vera found the leader, who was living as a human (of course, what
he have lived as back then?) in what was left of Washington, D.C.
Our nation's capitol, all but destroyed. Funny that the leader
"Eastern Coalition" would pick D.C., huh?
Using the Mulder charm that came naturally to her, and a few forged
documents, Vera was able to gain access to him. And that was all
pretty much. Vera put the stiletto in the base of his neck--killed
Her escape was actually quite easy. After their leader's demise,
were in a state of utter disarray. It seemed amazing that such
society could fall apart so quickly and easily...but then, the
Borg did the
same thing, years later. Maybe it just goes to show that all the
a nation shouldn't be put upon one person, or something philosophical
that. I don't know. I stopped caring a long time back.
Beverly leaned forward, wide-eyed, like a child being told a bedtime
"So you're saying that the woman who brought ECON down--Therese
MacNamera--was actually your daughter Vera?"
Scully grinned, maternal pride present even after all these years.
look crept into her powder-blue eyes. "What, you think she
would have done
what she did without an assumed name?" She laughed softly.
MacNamera was an alias of hers--she usually used it when we were
Besides, she didn't want the fame afterwards--or the traceability."
"That's understandable," Beverly agreed. "So the
war ended in 2062. She
would've, been...what, sixty?"
"Sixty-one," Scully answered, "but who's counting?
She still only looked
about mid-fortyish, and still had the attitude of a thirty year
old. I was
starting to wonder if maybe she'd picked up my immortality as
wasn't meant to be, though--she was just one of those women who
young." She cast her glance downward momentarily.
Without giving it much forethought, Beverly reached out and took
hand, knowing the next chapter of the story would be a difficult
one as well.
Vera died in 2076--surprisingly enough, of natural causes. But
simple fact didn't make losing her any easier. She was my daughter.
*baby*, no matter how old she got.
Before, I had always regarded my immortality as an annoyance.
would've liked to have missed World War III, thank you very much,
but I dealt
with it. But after Vera's death, I started hating the longevity
that made me
have to endure that. Despising it.
I also made it a point not to let myself get close to anyone again.
I'd lose them in the end, so pushing them away was the best way
to protect my
heart. Hmm...if the people back at the FBI had thought I was the
Princess, they should have seen me then. I was often very lonely
result--but to me, being lonely was better than being heartbroken,
The New Earth Alliance began in 2113, as you know, and that of
course led to
the founding of the Federation. Since disease wasn't a major issue
I decided to take some time away from medicine for a couple of
try something else. I tried several different personas in a matter
years. In case it sounds like I had a bit too much time on my
*did*. Zephram Cochrane sure knew what he was talking about when
James Kirk that immortality consists largely of boredom. And boredom
has *never* been a good thing. The incident with Jen and the invisible
and the yellow powder comes to mind, for example.
Scully grinned as Beverly burst out laughing.
"*What*?" Beverly asked as soon as she'd caught her
Scully waved a hand dismissively. "Never mind...you *don't*
want to know."
"I'll take your word on that." Beverly regained her
composure and scooted
over closer to Scully. "So anything else interesting happen
in between then
"Not really," Scully replied. "I kept up the same
act of switching
identities...I went back to medicine after a while--but I think
somewhat obvious. About 5 years ago, I decided to join Starfleet,
week I was transferred to the best ship in the Fleet." She
looked toward the
chronometer (which was still a clock to her, no matter what anyone
"And about 2 hours ago, I started telling a story I have
never told another
living soul. That about brings us up to this point."
"You haven't told me everything, though," Beverly said
gently. She knew that
Scully probably didn't want to talk about this, but it would be
her in the long run. And for Dana Scully, that would be a very,
time--no matter what she decided to call herself.
"What'd I leave out?"
"Mulder," Beverly continued softly. "You never
told me what happened to him.
Everyone else I know about, but..." She let her sentence
Scully's eyes filled with tears again--she'd been fighting them
time she'd told her tale. This time, though, she lost the battle,
allowed them to spill over. "Oh, Beverly...that's just it.
It was so
unnecessary...it was my fault. He died because of *me*. He didn't
to...he shouldn't have."
Beverly Crusher moved over and wrapped her arms around the other
Scully probably hadn't cried like this in more years than she'd
have cared to
remember. And it was good for her now. It helped her deal with
Scully sobbed silently for several minutes, finally giving in
to the memories
of years of grief and pain that had resurfaced--all the losses
she'd had to
endure through the years. As well as the loss of her one true
love. After a
moment, she collected herself, dried her eyes...and it were as
if nothing had
ever happened. She took a deep breath, moving a few inches away
to be able to look at her.
"Maybe you're right," she whispered, so softly that
Beverly could barely hear
her. "Maybe it's time I finally let it go." Her face
betrayed the tiniest
hint of apprehension, though. Beverly took her hand reassuringly.
"Not *him*," Beverly soothed. "You're not letting
go of Mulder. Just the
guilt. You were able to do it for Skinner...now it's time to do
Mulder. He wouldn't have wanted you to beat yourself up over his
sure of it."
Scully managed half a smile, obviously trying to look brave. "You're
She sighed deeply, and finally began to release the painful secret
haunted her for the better part of 400 years.
It was September 16, 2004. That's one of those dates I'll never
matter how much time goes by. Mulder and I were out on a case
somewhere near Fairfax. We'd been lured into an old abandoned
our suspect. Mulder was uneasy...and for all my talk against premonitions,
was a little antsy myself. I distinctly remember the conversation
I had on our way in.
"Hey, Scully," he teased, "this looks like it would've
been an ideal makeout
spot at one time. Want to test the theory?"
"No, thank you, Mulder," I answered dryly.
Two rabbits scurried away from us as we got closer. It didn't
thought to figure out what they'd most likely been up to. Mulder
around and gave me that playful grin of his--the one that was
designed to be
"'Baby, we ain't nothin' but mammals'," he whispered,
quoting a song that had
been popular about five or six years back--though, for the life
of me, I'll
never know why. Of course, Mulder had taken great delight in it...but
was the way he was. That was the way I loved him.
"Let's leave the Discovery Channel out of this, Mulder,"
I chided, matching
his playful tone. I couldn't wait for his witty comeback. Mulder
at those little games--and once he got started, he didn't stop
If I had known that would be the last real conversation we'd have
other, I'd have said a lot more.
I never heard that comeback of his, because seconds later, shots
Mulder knocked me to the ground, covering me with his body.
Once the shooting stopped, I crawled out from under him, and my
in my throat.
He'd been hit. Several times.
I snapped into action immediately, allowing my medical training
to take over.
I applied pressure to the wounds as best I could, but there were
them. He was loosing too much blood too fast.
I don't consciously recall calling the ambulance, but I must have,
they arrived moments later.
Moments too late.
He died, right there in my arms that night. The only place I'd
him to be, but I was too much of a fool to realize it at the time.
you know what his last words to me were? As he lay there in my
his blood--his life--pouring out of his body and slipping away?
He asked me
to marry him again. With blood trickling from the corner of his
struggling to breathe--he asked me to marry him. Again.
I should have never turned him down the first time.
I didn't turn him down that time, either, but I might as well
have. I told
him to wait until he got better, then I'd give him his answer.
It was a
trick to try to get him to live, to make it so I could tell him
I would marry
him and we could try to live happily ever after in a Cape Cod
white picket fences. We never would have, but we sure as hell
He gave his life for me. And he didn't have to. I was immortal
by then! I
had Fellig's damn curse, and Mulder still *died* *for**me*! We'd
joked that it was auto-erotic asphyxiation that would kill him
but--in the end--he took bullets for me that he should have never
to be in the way of.
I didn't know it then, but I should have suspected something.
After all, I
was a scientist. I should have at least looked into Fellig's words.
didn't. And Mulder died protecting me from a fate I would never
Life really sucks sometimes, you know.
I really withdrew after Mulder died. I know I had a lot of people
worried--including myself--but I didn't really care. The man I
forever gone--and I had never told him how I felt. I had never
courage to face my true feelings for him.
One night, about a week after the funeral, I was at home alone.
have been alone. I actually hadn't been alone since Mulder's death.
I saw a picture on top of my entertainment center--the one that
next to my only picture of Emily. I hadn't put the picture of
yet...maybe if I had, I wouldn't have done what I did. Maybe I'd
thought before acting.
But the picture that caught my eye was of Mulder and me. It had
at a family picnic of mine I'd dragged him to. We were both happy,
laughing...not a care in the world, if only for that one moment
in time. And
sometimes all you can ask for is one moment in time.
I walked across the room, to the drawer where I kept my service
unlocked the drawer, took the gun out of the drawer, and tossed
I don't know just how long I stood there, staring at the weapon...feeling
cool metal in my hand. Then I put the gun to my head--and pulled
trigger. I just wanted it all to be over.
I woke up in a hospital the next morning. Apparently a neighbor
the gunshot and called the police.
Right then, I should have known something was wrong. Everyone
had been some sort of accident...the gun had actually fallen a
few feet away
from me. Probably hit the ground and skidded. If they wanted to
was an accident, I let them believe it was an accident. I cared
for them too
much to tell them the truth, strange as that might sound. I think
knew, though--but bless him, he never said anything.
That should have been the day I'd realized my immortality. But
actually never crossed my mind for more than a second. I figured
angle of the gun had been wrong, that the bullet had just grazed
my face or
something. I think everyone else figured that since it was an
was lucky to get away with as little damage as I had.
"Lucky" isn't exactly the word I'd have used, but...they
had *no* idea.
After Scully had finally gotten that off her chest, the two women
to talk well into the night.
After a while, Beverly looked at Scully seriously, as though sizing
"When was it you were the happiest?"
Scully was caught off-guard by her question. "What do you
"You and Mulder," Beverly clarified. "When were
Scully thought about it. "Oh...wow, I'd never really considered
in-depth before...I guess I'd have to say about late May of '97.
is. I'd just gotten the cure for my cancer...it was before that
we had...and we had an interesting bonding experience in the woods."
Beverly's eyebrow raised at that.
"Oh, get your mind out of the gutter," Scully teased.
"It wasn't anything
like that. We just talked...and I sang to him, but that's another
"Oh...I doubt you'd know it. 'Joy to the World'--not the
It was a song about a bullfrog. At least partially. Really off-the-wall."
The former FBI agent noticed the barely concealed amusement in
glance. "Well, it was the first thing that popped into my
head!" A pause
followed. "Beverly? Um...Beverly? Say something, you're starting
me. What's with that look on your face? What are you up to?"
response, only the cryptic grin Beverly had assumed. "Bev?
Oh, God...why am
I getting so nervous?"
***Two days later***
Beverly Cheryl Crusher would have done anything for a friend...but
starting to wonder about the limits of that as she smoothed out
the skirt of
the business suit she had put on. She waited outside Holodeck
4 for Scully
In private, Beverly now called Scully "Dana"...it was
still "Dr. Mulder" with
others around. After all, there was no need to confuse people.
Scully came down the hall moments later, looking as comfortable
in the outfit
as Beverly was *un*comfortable in it. Of course, Beverly had gotten
used to the comfort and ease of Starfleet uniforms.
Scully grinned at her friend. "So what's this all about?
You have me meet
you outside the holodeck in my 'old uniform'. Tell me you didn't
do what I
think you did."
"Maybe," Beverly told her, "maybe not." She
spoke to the computer.
"Computer, begin program."
The doors stepped open, and the two of them stepped right into...the
Scully stared at their surroundings, then at Beverly. "This
amazing. It's perfect. How did you ever...?"
"Historical records." Beverly tossed her hair over one
shoulder. "I just
had Data snatch a few files for me and we fed them into the computer.
Nothing to it."
Scully's smile widened. "Beverly, this is...incredible. Thank
"Anything for a friend," Beverly replied, straightening
her jacket. This
outfit took a lot of work.
Scully leaned across the cluttered desk to look at the calendar.
"May...1997. So that's why you wanted to know."
"We all need a break every now and then," Beverly said.
certainly been through enough. I figured you might enjoy having
days' back for a few hours."
"I do." Scully hugged her with one arm. "With the
exception of Vera, this is
the best present anyone has ever given me. Thank you."
"You're entirely welcome." Beverly paused a moment.
"I'm not sure if you
want to take advantage of it, but this program has...well, another
"You programmed it to include Mulder?" Scully guessed.
"And anyone else you may want. I'll play into this however
Scully flashed her another smile of gratitude, and closed her
eyes for a
second, as though she were fighting an inward battle. But she
decision, and spoke a few words to the computer. In a matter of
Mulder (or, rather, the holographic image of him) was standing
in the center
of the office, behind the desk. He came to "life" immediately,
and it was
all Scully to do to keep from throwing herself into his arms and
400 years' worth of unspoken love. But she let him make the first
Mulder grinned, that little-boy grin of his...and Beverly could
what had drawn Scully to him. Who couldn't resist charm like that.
"Hey, Scully...who's your friend?"
"Her name's Beverly," Scully explained to him. "she's
going to be...helping
us with a few cases."
"Okay." Mulder shrugged, and picked up one of the many
case files littering
the surrounding area. He's accepted it easily enough...he was
re-creation, after all. But that didn't mean he wouldn't give
Scully a hard
time. "We are going to Montana tomorrow morning, so you ladies
pack your bags. UFO reports, livestock and forest mutilations...the
stuff." He leveled his gaze to Scully. "So what's your
theory of the week?
Men in costumes with satanic cults? Psychos who watch too many
"No," Scully answered slowly, strolling around to join
him, "I don't think
so. In fact, you're right, Mulder. There were UFO's, and aliens
damage." She said it serious, without even a trace of irony.
A surprised look crossed Mulder's face, replaced by a suspicious
nanoseconds later. "You're serious?"
Now it was Scully's turn to do the evil look. "In your *dreams*."
The look on her face said she knew something about that line he
As Mulder mocked being hurt by her "betrayal", Beverly
stepped back to watch
them go at it.
She was going to enjoy this.
And though Dana Scully didn't want to live forever, she might
have just found
a way to make having to do so more bearable.