Title: Something Left Author: Ana Hawkman Category: Angst, MSR Rating: PG-13 Feedback: anahawkman@hotmail.com Archiving: Please. Just drop me a line. Disclaimer: Oh, I wish I were a Mulder-Scully owner/ That is what I'd truly love to be/ But since I'm not a Mulder-Scully owner/ Everything belongs to 1013. Author's notes: Thanks to Meg McScully for no particular reason. And guys, BE AWARE THAT I DON'T WANT THIS TO HAPPEN, IT'S JUST A LITTLE ANGST SPLURGE I NEEDED TO GET OUT OF MY SYSTEM. PLEASE DON'T HATE ME, AND CHRIS CARTER: MAKE HER LOSE THE BABY, AND YOU'LL LOSE ALL THE FANS. I can't handle this. Cold rain is falling out of a cold sky, and I feel so alone. I'm shivering, clothed for the sunny morning. Now, it is raining, and night time, and I am so cold. Everything has been taken from me. Mulder has been taken from me. I had one thing left to live for after that; Our miracle, our baby. It was probably part of a master plan in the first place for me to have a miscarriage, but it hit me completely off guard. And it hurts. I have cried so hard that my eyes are nearly swollen shut. I am curled up on a ball, on the bench that Mulder used to sit on for hours when he couldn't sleep at night. It's cold and raining, but I don't have to worry about hypothermia. I don't have anything to protect any more. There is nothing left. A shadow approaches me from the side. If it is Doggett, I swear I will beat him to the ground. I am so tired of him trying to comfort me, trying to make me smile. Things that Mulder used to do, that no one will ever do for me again. John can't take my partner's place. "Scully?" That voice. I know that voice so well. I look up. A familiar face is standing before me in a black trench coat, the rain falling around him. He kneels down next to me, putting his hand to my cheek. He is so warm. "Oh my God," he whispers over the pouring rain. I must be hallucinating. I know it isn't him. He's been gone for a year, now, he can't just appear. As much as I want him, need him right now, I have to stay on my toes. Either there is no one around, or I am too sick to distinguish person really is. Then again, I have nothing to lose if it isn't really him. He reaches for me, beginning to scoop me into his arms. I jerk away, flinching. He pauses. I look up into his eyes, and begin crying again. "Scully, sweetie, come here." His voice is quiet, gentle. I want it to be him so badly my chest hurts. He reaches for me again. He pulls me to a stand in front of him, and takes off his coat. As he wraps me in it, I look up at him. It is so wonderful to feel my neck crane to that familiar angle to meet his eyes. "How can I be sure it's you?" I ask, my voice tiny and quavering. His face softens, and he touches my hand. I do not pull it back, so he holds it between both of his own. So warm. His fingers caress the ring on my left hand, a gold engagement ring that I found in the droor of Mulder's night stand. "My partner, my touchstone, my life." He recites the words engraved on the indside of th ring's band. With those words, I crumble to the ground. Some time later, I am in dry pajamas, wrapped in multiple blankets on my couch. There is a fire in the fireplace, and I'm drinking a mug of hot tea. I sniffle a little, in the aftermath of crying and being cold. We have been talking for a long time, and the combination of warmth and safety are making me drowsy. I nestle back into Mulder's embrace. "Scully," he murmurs, and I tip my head back to look at him. "I'm so sorry." The tears in his eyes spill over, and he leans in to kiss my lips very gently. He hugs me close, resting his neck against mine. "I don't want to hurt you any more," he says quietly. I rest my head on his shoulder and breathe in deeply, loving the feeling of him, the smell of him, his voice. It's been too long. "Mulder." I say his name quietly, yet firmly. "Look at me." His beautiful, tearful hazel eyes meet mine, and I see the raw pain there. I kiss his forehead. "You've never hurt me, and I know that you never would. We're together now... quit worrying, okay?" I tenderly brush some hair out of his eyes. "I have hurt you, though, Scully. My God, look at how I found you. That was because of me. Because you lost our baby. You should have never come to the FBI. You could have had a normal life, with lots of healthy children. But I've taken it all away from you, Scully, either directly or indirectly. And I love you so much. I never meant to hurt you." He does not pull me back into his arms as I think he might, but rather holds my eyes and looks straight into my soul. "You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, Mulder, you can never doubt that. You're the best part of me. You make me a whole person." He smiles a bit through his tears at my repeating of his own words. He hugs me close, stroking my hair. "I was going to name her Samantha Mulder," I whisper, and he hiccupps, crying hard into my shoulder. We both stop crying, finally, and move to my bedroom. Mulder turns down the blankets for me, and I crawl between the cool white sheets. He crawls in next to me, and I remember fondly the few nights we did this before his dissapearance. We had only slept together (in the same bed, that is) three or four times, but it has always felt so safe and so natural, so safe. For the first time in months, I sleep. Finis Feedback: anahawkman@hotmail.com