TITLE: Crossing the Street AUTHOR: Forte E-MAIL ADDRESS: Forte1354@aol.com or bjm1352@aol.com URL: http://www.thebasementoffice.com/ CATEGORY: VA RATING: PG-13 CONTENT WARNING: Language. SPOILERS: Vague, for "Beyond the Sea" and "One Breath" ARCHIVE: Ephemeral/Gossamer OK. Anywhere else, please let me know first. DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Wish they were. Property of CC, Fox, and 1013. Damn! SUMMARY: Mulder shares a conversation with a stranger. FEEDBACK: Yes, please. :) ACKNOWLEDGMENTS: Bowing and scraping to Jintian, beta reader extraordinaire, for her inspiration, insight, patience, wisdom, and butt-kicking . And to AllthingsX, who started it all for me. ****************************************************************** Crossing the Street Fox Mulder rolled over from his back to his stomach. he thought, groggy with sleep. Only half-awake, eyes still closed, he tried to figure out what was going on. His cheek rested upon something hard and cold. No pillow? He rolled back over half-way, onto his side, and took in a deep breath. And immediately regretted it, as his lungs burned and his head throbbed. He struggled to recall what he'd been doing in his last conscious moments. Slowly... he remembered. ******************************************************************** Working. With Scully. Bursting through a door. Scully just behind, covering his back. "FREEZE! FEDERAL AGENTS!" Suspect, weapon dropped. Window. Fire escape. Scully out after him, Mulder taking the back entrance to the street. Scully chasing him across a street, into an alley. Following Scully, about 20 yards behind. Suspect, cornered, pulling a gun from an ankle holster... "Nooooooo!" ****************************************************************** "SCULLY!" He sat bolt upright, eyes flying open. A warm hand grasped his shoulder, and firmly pushed him down onto his back. Mulder tried to focus his eyes, but couldn't quite manage it. The vision of a man swam before his eyes, but as hard as he concentrated he couldn't see him clearly. But there was no mistaking that it =was= a man, middle-aged, bald. "Skinner?" Mulder rasped. "Where's Scully?" The man leaning over him smiled warmly. "I'm not Skinner," he answered. The voice resonated with kindness and patience. It was almost mesmerizing, and for a moment filled Mulder with a sense of peace, of contentment. The man leaned in a bit closer, and came into focus. Mulder struggled to place the face, but for the life of him he couldn't. The eyes, especially, were such a soul-touching shade of blue. Just like... "SCULLY!" Mulder cried out again. "Where is she? Is she all right?" "Don't worry about her," the man said soothingly. "She's fine." "Where is she?" Mulder asked again, the agitation rising in his voice. "I need to see her!" "Don't worry about her now," the man repeated. "You'll see her soon." Mulder blinked, not comprehending. "Please," he pleaded. "Tell me what happened to her. The suspect was about to shoot her... but I don't remember..." Mulder closed his eyes and groaned at the effort to speak. "Please..." "Look at me!" the man commanded. "I don't have much time. You need to listen to me, for her sake as well as yours." Mulder opened his eyes. He tried and failed again to focus on this stranger. What was he talking about? Was Scully in some danger? "What do you have to tell me?" Mulder whispered. "What's going on? What's going to happen?" "Just listen to me, please," the man said, his voice taking on the soothing, resonated tone again. Despite his concerns, Mulder felt himself relaxing in the man's presence. "You don't have children, do you?" the man asked him. Surprised, and a bit confused, Mulder said only, "No." "When I was a younger man -- younger even than you -- I had several," the man continued. "I have grandchildren now, too," he added, with obvious pride in his voice. "Now I get to look out for another generation." Mulder stared, transfixed, as the man paused. He squared his shoulders, as though the words to come would take great effort. "You have to teach your children so many things. Not just the basics, like walking, talking, reading, writing, counting. You have to teach them 'please' and 'thank you'; about not hitting, about looking both ways before crossing the street, about not taking candy from strangers. You try to teach them about good, and evil, and telling the difference. About giving, and taking, and striking a balance between the two. About loving others, and letting others love you." He paused, then smiled, looking somewhere just past Mulder's shoulder. "Some lessons are harder than others to teach. Especially if you never learned them well yourself." "I don't understand," said Mulder, still whispering. "What are you talking about?" The man clasped Mulder's shoulder with a firm grip. "I taught my children to look both ways before crossing the street. But the streets you cross together are a lot wider than the ones I had to worry about. Be careful. Take care of her, and she'll take care of you." He started to move away, then changed his mind and turned back to Mulder, gazing at him with a burning intensity. "Tell her I'm waiting for her, even though it will be quite a while." His brief smile was sad. "Tell her that I love her." He paused, then renewed his stare. "Tell her =you= love her." Mulder gasped for breath. "Who are you? How do you know Scully? How do you know me?" The man smiled one last time, this time with more hope than sadness. "She's my Starbuck, Agent Mulder. And she's =your= Scully." And then he was gone. Mulder stared after him, speechless, until the darkness returned. ****************************************************************** Mulder tried to roll over in bed from his back to his stomach. He tried. And immediately regretted the attempt, as his lungs burned and his head throbbed before he had moved an inch. he thought, groggy with sleep. A warm hand grasped his right shoulder, gently pushing him down onto his back. Another warm hand caressed the left side of his face. "Easy, Mulder. Don't try to move. Just lie still." Mulder tried to say her name, but the word stuck in his parched throat. But who the hell cared about that? He heard her voice. She was alive, and apparently well. As she felt his body relax, her hand left his cheek, and moved to take his right hand. Mulder gave it a slight squeeze -- the firmest he could manage -- and Scully squeezed back. Mulder opened his eyes slowly, blinking several times in response to the glare from the hall lights. Inside the hospital room it was much darker -- Mulder thought -- but he had no trouble recognizing the glorious halo of red hair and the beatific smile that welcomed him back to consciousness. "Hey, partner." Her voice was warm and gentle. "Sculleeee," he rasped, then added in happy wonder, "You're okay." Somehow Scully's smile managed to grow even wider, even as her eyes showed a glint of moisture. "Yeah, Mulder, I'm fine. I'm fine." Taking her hand from his shoulder, Scully reached over to the side table and picked up a small cup. "Ice chips?" she offered. Mulder squeezed her hand in response, and she let go of his just long enough to feed him a few tiny spoonfuls of the chips. Mulder let them slowly dissolve, moistening his dry lips and mouth. He closed his eyes to signal that he'd had enough. Scully returned the cup to the side table and took his hand again. Mulder turned his head towards Scully and opened his eyes. "The suspect... the gun... pointed at you..." Mulder whispered. "What happened?" "I chased the suspect into the alley, and he turned a gun on me," Scully responded gently. "When you yelled, it diverted his attention, and I was able to take him out." She paused. "He would have shot me if it weren't for you, Mulder." Mulder squeezed her hand again, and again Scully squeezed back. "Why am I here?" he choked out. Scully's lips narrowed into a thin line as she struggled with her self-control. "Mulder, this was too close. Too damned close. You've been unconscious for over 24 hours. You... you were hit by a car." She shook her head, then attempted a smile, but it turned into a grimace instead. "You forgot to look both ways before crossing the street, Mulder." Look both ways before crossing the street... Mulder blinked hard, and stared at her. "Mulder? What's wrong?" "Scully," Mulder whispered urgently, gripping her hand. "Mulder?" She leaned over, alarmed, tilting her ear towards his mouth. "What is it?" "There's something I have to tell you..." ****************************************************************** ~ end ~ ****************************************************************** Thanks for reading! DEDICATION: For my father, who, like Scully's, died younger than he should have. And don't even =try= to pretend you're not still keeping an eye on me, Dad!