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Path to a Miracle

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Title: Path to a Miracle

Author: Sara B.



Rating: Okay for everyone

Category: Angst, MSR

Spoilers: Dead Alive

Feedback:  Picture kneeling with hands together and tongue hanging out begging.  Come on how can you ignore that pitiful face? 

Summary:  Dana Scully from funeral to resurrection.

Archive: I would be honored, just let me know.

Disclaimer:  The recognized characters are used Without Prejudice and are the property of C. Carter, Fox and the wonderful actors who breathed life into written words, most notably G. Anderson and D. Duchovny who were able to make us believe in the improbable.  No Infringements of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission.  The story and before unknown characters belongs to me.

Gratitude: To Kim Knight, you are the best, thank you.  To my Dennis, enough said.  To CC and Company, who created the X-Files.  Lastly, but my no means least, to the readers, you make this hobby of mine have meaning.

Author’s Notes:  Okay, it’s Sunday and for some unknown reason this strange thought entered my head.  I tried to ignore it; it refused to be ignored.  So I started hitting the keyboard at 4:13 pm EST and ended the story at 5:11 pm EST.  I have no idea if any of it makes sense, I hope it does.  You be the judge. 

Anyone who had read any of my stories knows that I rely heavily on conversation.  This story is a complete departure and there are only two lines said and Scully says them both.  



Path to a Miracle

Sara B. 02/06


Dana Scully stood at the kitchen sink rinsing the last plate.  The last of the mourners left nearly twenty minutes earlier and she was finally alone.  The last several days had been filled with so much activity. Planning Mulder’s funeral and his wake had kept her busy and she’d been able to survive on autopilot.  That was the past.    


Tomorrow she needed to contact Mulder’s attorney and start settling his affairs.  Tomorrow she would have to decide what to do with his things.  What to keep, what to store, what to donate, what to distribute to his friends and what to throw out.  She would immerse herself in his possessions and be able to forget.  That was the future.   


Tonight she would mourn.  She would learn to accept that she would never see him or hear him this side of the gossamer curtain separating life and death.  She would accept that their child would face a life without a father for there would be no one else in her life to take his place.  She would rant and rave at the injustice.  She would lay blame on the nameless men, on the FBI, on Skinner, on aliens, on Mulder and on herself.  She would cry at her loss and laugh at her memories.  She’d remember both good and bad; lamenting both.  She would pull out her photo album and regret that there are so few of them but be thankful there are any.  Tonight she would accept.  This is the present.



Dana Scully put the key in the lock and turned it.  The brass mismatched 42 needed polishing and she made a mental note.  She opened the door and was embraced by the emptiness. 


She’d long ago cleaned out the kitchen but she found herself checking the fridge.  Two empty ice trays were all that greeted her.  She opened a cabinet drawer and chuckled, take out menus from every delivery place within fifteen miles.


She moved to the dining room then to the living room.  The memories overcame her; so much of what was them lingered in this room.  She moved on. 


She entered the bedroom and sat on the bed.  She held a pillow to her face and nearly screamed when she realized his scent was missing from the clean crisp fabric.  She regretted that she’d cleaned his apartment the week after he’d gone missing.  At the time it was all she could think of to be close to him; now she wished she’d just left his clutter. 


She looked around the room and the tears she had been able to hold in began to flow.


She’d come from Mulder’s attorney’s office directly to his apartment.  Except for a legacy to the three Gunmen, Mulder had left her everything.  That, in itself, was not a great surprise but that the will was written a week after her cancer went into remission was.  What else shocked her was the amount of Mulder’s holdings.  She supposed that somewhere in her mind she knew he’d come from a privileged background but it never meant anything to him so it meant nothing to her.  She placed a hand on the small bump at her middle.  Their child would never want for anything; anything but his father. 


She stood and took another look around.  She would not be packing Mulder’s things.  She could afford to keep this place and if the owner insisted she’d buy the damned building.


She got to the door then turned around and walked to the bathroom.  She opened the medicine cabinet and took out his cologne and placed it in her pocket.  Smiling, she left.



Dana Scully stared at her bedroom ceiling, sleep eluding her.  Another night of shadows and tears.  One thought had plagued her since Mulder’s death.  She always thought that if either of them died the other would always feel them, know that they were always together.  She didn’t feel Mulder.


She rolled over to rise to get some water when the phone rang.  She looked at the clock and saw that it was after two.  In the past, late night calls were never a cause for concern because they were always Mulder.  A cold chill held her heart as she answered.  The caller told her to go to Bethesda Hospital.


She held her bulging stomach as she ran from her car.  The child within was in constant motion.  It was as if their child knew something miraculous was about to happen.

She burst through the double doors to see Skinner and Doggett.  Through the hospital room door window she saw him; Mulder. 


Doggett tried to dissuade her from going in but she would not be stopped.  Even one more second with him was worth going through all the pain again.  One more moment, how she’d dreamed of just one more moment.



She saw Doggett at the door as he retreated and smiled.  Her head rested on Mulder’s chest and his hand was in her hair.  She listened to the slow beat of his heart and the even rhythm of his breathing.  She couldn’t explain it and she didn’t care.  All that mattered was she was given her ‘one more moment’ and many more. 


She rose up and placed her hand on his cheek.  Mulder’s eyes opened and he smiled at her.  “I love you, Mulder.”  She stood up further so he could see her newly acquired girth and his eyes grew wide.  “We love you.”