Subject: Building the Lies (1/1)
From: jlcidell@wimpy.cpe.uchicago.edu (Zubeneschamali)
Date: Tue, 4 Nov 1997 17:03:31 GMT

Title: Building the Lies
Author: Zubeneschamali (jlcidell@wimpy.uchicago.edu)
Spoilers: through Redux
Rating: G
Classification: VA
Keywords: Mulder/Scully friendship
Synopsis: The missing scene where Mulder and Scully plot his "death".

Disclaimers: Any resemblance to real persons or places living or dead
is purely coincidental, as the story belongs to me.  Any resemblance
to fictional persons or places is very non-coincidental, as they all
belong to Chris Carter, FOX, and 10-13 Productions.

Note: This is the first time I've experienced the phenomenon where the
characters I'm writing about say what they wanted to and not what I
intended they would say.  Very strange.  Hope it turned out well.

###############################################################################

 "If only the tragedy had been mine alone, might it be more easy
tonight to bring this journey to its end?"
			--Mulder, "Redux"

so tired of the straight line
and everywhere you turn
there's vultures and thieves at your back
the stone keeps on twisting
you keep on building the lies
that you make up for all that you lack
			--Sarah McLachlan, "Angel"

Scully's apartment
12:30 A.M.

	"But as they lie to us, we can lie to them."
	Scully looked down at Mulder, crouched at the edge of the
kitchen table.  "What exactly do you mean?"
	He ran his hand through his hair.  "The body in my apartment."
	She still just looked at him.
	"What if it was me?"
	At that, her head drew back a bit.  "If you had been shot
instead of this Ostelhoff?"
	"No, Scully, if..." he took a deep breath.  "If Kritschgau had
not made the phone call when he did, if I hadn't realized that you are
as much a part of this...of me...as you are.  Scully, I had my gun
out.  Half an hour ago, I had my gun in my hand.  And it wasn't with
the intent of knocking off DOD guys, either."
	"Mulder," she started, eyes widening.
	He shook his head.  "Not that I wasn't thinking about it.  But
part of me realized that that's exactly what They would want.  And
then it all became clear.  That's what we have to do."
	"Make them think you killed yourself?"
	He nodded, "Exactly.  It wouldn't be too far of a stretch,
would it?  Spooky Mulder finds out his whole life has been a lie, he's
been used to hurt the people he loves, he's actually been doing the
enemy's bidding the whole time.  Hell, I'd even believe it, but then
I'm supposed to believe everything, right?"  Ignoring her wince, he
went on, "Now, the question is, what happens if they think I'm dead?"
	"Well, in all likelihood, they rejoice and wait for me to join
you.  With both of us gone, there'd be no reason for further
investigation into the X-Files.  I don't know what good this plot of
yours will do."
	He cocked his head at her.  "But Scully, that'd be a long time
away, right?  If I was able to snoop around in the meantime, without
them knowing..." he trailed off as he saw her shake her head.  "What?"
he asked with dread.
	She was quiet, bowing her head.  She brought a fist up to her
mouth and pressed, as if either trying to keep the words inside or
trying to draw them out.  "There's something I didn't tell you," she
said slowly.  "Something I just learned earlier today.  God, it was
today, wasn't it?" she asked, raising her head.  "So much has
happened..."
	"Scully, what is it?"
	She tilted her head towards him, then brought her hands
together on the table, clasping them for strength.  "The doctor said
that my cancer has metastisized."  She paused and looked down at her
hands as Mulder took a sharp breath.  "He doesn't know how long, but
it's probably not more than a few months or weeks."
	He was still speechless as she clasped her hands tightly
enough for the knuckles to turn white.  She drew a deep breath.
"Mulder, I--"
	"Scully," he said gently.  He reached out one hand to touch
her face.  "No," he said softly, cupping her cheek.  "No."
	She gave a sad smile.  "For once, it doesn't matter what you
believe, Mulder.  For once, for the time when it is most crucial, it
comes down to hard scientific fact.  And the fact is, I am dying."
She held up a hand to forestall his protest, eyes never wavering in
the dim light.  "I told you in the Smithsonian that it was not my
dying wish to follow your pursuit of a particular truth.  Though I
could not have said at the time what my dying wish was, I believe that
now I can, after hearing what I have heard tonight, both from
Kritschgau and from you."  She straightened a bit and looked as deadly
cold as he had ever seen.  "I want to expose what those bastards have
done, to me and to you and to who knows how many others.  I want to
expose their lies, their treason, as you call it, and make them held
accountable.  I have never before lied in the service of my country,
but I am willing to do that, if that is what it takes." 
	He regarded her for a moment, then stood.  "Come here," he
whispered, extending his arms.  She hesitated only a moment before
rising into his embrace, gripping him fiercely.  He folded her head
against his chest, and they stood for a while, wrapped in each other's
arms.  Finally he pulled away enough to bend his head and softly kiss
her forehead.  "I still believe that you will save yourself, Scully,"
he said, bringing to mind a similar embrace in a hospital hallway.  "I
may have had a lot of beliefs shattered tonight, but I still believe
in you."
	She regarded him seriously.  "Mulder, what Kritschgau said may
have made sense, but I just can't grasp the concept that the past four
years have been a lie.  I don't believe you were 'created' any more
than I was.  Too much has happened for that."
	"But your life has certainly been deliberately shaped."  He
let go of her and sank down in a chair.  "And that's the worst of it.
Not that you were given cancer as a result of your abduction... that's
bad enough to carry the responsibility for, but it's not as bad as
this."
	She sat down as well, looking puzzled.  "What's the
difference?"
	"Because it was one thing to think that you were taken and
then given this disease in order to stop us, or at least slow us down.
It's one thing to try and accept it as a consequence of getting too
close to the truth.  It's a completely different thing to think that
this was done to you to _encourage_ us to seek the truth.  To accept
that you were given the cancer to make me believe is to admit that the
both of us have been manipulated in a way far beyond the scope of what
we had previously thought.  It's being not only pawns, but completely
predictable pawns.  Even if they didn't 'create' me, they sure know me
a hell of a lot better than I know myself."
	Scully was quiet, absorbing this.  "I just can't believe
that," she finally said.  "If they were trying to encourage you, or
us, why try to kill us so many times?  They deliberately tried to burn
you in the boxcar, so it can't just be near misses.  Why close the
X-Files?  Why kill your informants?  Why create this alien corpse and
allow you to see only so much of it?  What could be so important that
all those people are worth dying for?"
	"That's what we have to figure out.  What I have to figure
out.  If they think I'm dead, I have better access to their secrets.
Tomorrow I'll take this guy's pass into DARPA and see how far I can
get with it.  Maybe I'll even try to find Kritschgau, see if he can
show me that 'irrefutable proof' he was talking about."
	"You trust him?"
	"Scully, I trust only you."  The familiar words made them both
smile, and he went on, "No, I know he's got something else going on.
From what you told me on the phone, his method of approaching you left
a little to be desired.  I'd trust him as far as I could throw him
_up_ a flight of stairs.  But he did warn me about the camera in my
ceiling, so he's been at least partially helpful."
	She started.  "Mulder, what if they're watching here, too?"
	He shook his head.  "I checked while I was waiting for you.
No sign of any surveillance device.  Guess your life's just not as
interesting as mine, Scully."
	"Yeah, I bet someone's been getting a big kick out of watching
you channel surf for the past two months," she replied.
	A flicker of something crossed his face.  "Scully, are you
sure you want to do this?  I know that your honor and integrity are
your most important qualities, and if you have to lie about the
body...you know they're going to ask you to identify it."
	She swallowed.  "I know.  And I've never been good at lying.
But this is too important, Mulder.  And what if it had been you?  If I
keep asking myself that, pretending to believe it..." she looked up.
"Not that I could comprehend it.  Even though it might logically
follow from tonight's events, I could never imagine you taking your
own life."
	He gave a sad smile.  "I could.  At least, I almost could.
Truth is, Scully, it's not my life for the taking anyway.  If I go,
there wouldn't be anyone to believe in your cure.  Especially since
it's my responsibility, more than ever, to find it."
	She shook her head, smiling.  "Sometimes I'm glad that you're
so damn stubborn, Mulder."  Her eyes softened.  "Even if it makes it
harder in the end."
	He repeated his gesture from earlier in the night, hand
tracing the outline of her jawbone.  "No," he said again.  "There's
only going to be an end for Them. And we are going to make that end
happen.  Right here, right now."





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"Living in the city, you forget a lot of things.  You know,     | jlcidell@
there you're always thinking about being mugged or hit by a     | wimpy.
car.  It's not until you get back to Nature until you realize   | uchicago.
everything's out to get you."                                   | edu
					--Scully, "Quagmire"    |
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