From:             AltarGirl2 <AltarGirl2@aol.com>
Date sent:        Fri, 10 Apr 1998 17:58:27 EDT
Subject:          Story: Not Guilty, Have Mercy

Title: Not Guilty, Have Mercy
Author: Chase Buckingham
Category: VR
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Keywords: Mulder/Scully Romance
Summary: Scully contemplates suicide...
Archive: Sure! Wherever, just tell me and keep my name on it!
Feedback: YESYESYESYESYESYESYESYES!!!!! PLEASE!!!!!! I'm begging!
AltarGirl2@aol.com
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully are not by any means mine. No profit. Don't sue.
End of story!
Dedication: For Lindsay Penzero... this is how I felt after you attacked me
today!
Author's Note: The title of this story came from Stevie Nicks' "Whole Lotta
Trouble"... it has little or nothing to do with the plot of the story- I just
thought it was an appropriate title for my little theme here.

Not Guilty, Have Mercy
By Chase Buckingham

Dana Scully sat staring at the gun on the table. She wondered how many people
she'd killed with it, and how many times she'd been justified in doing so.
She'd ended so may lives with that weapon, and as she picked it up, running
her fingers over the smooth metal, she pondered how easily she could end her
own. She let it lay across her palms, staring intently at it. The metal was
cold, unfeeling, harsh. Lifelessly frightening, it glared back at her, daring
her to do it. She held the butt of it, staring into the barrel as if looking
for answers. She ran the heel of her hand along it pensively, wondering what
it feels like to die. <Do you slowly drift away? Or is it sudden, final? Do
you know, or just simply cease to exist?> She turned the gun over and over in
her hands, asking herself the same questions: Would anyone miss me? Would
anything change? She sighed, throwing the gun back onto the table and
slouching back on the couch. She never let her eyes wander from it, as though
afraid that if she looked away or blinked it would shoot her of its own
accord. She sat there for a moment, squinting at this unwitting messenger of
death, and asking herself if she wanted to live any longer. She stood suddenly
and snatched the gun up, pacing nervously. Her hand dangled at her side,
fingering the trigger. She ran the other over her hair, sighing heavily. <Why
would I ever... do that?> she asked herself. <But then, why not?> She took one
last unimpressed look at the glinting silver and pivoted her hand gracefully,
placing the tip to her temple. She pulled gently at the safety, and it clicked
in unison with the doorknob. The creaking hinges startled her, but she did not
lower her hand. She stared intently at Mulder as he entered, and he couldn't
move for the shock of what he saw. He eventually took a step towards her, but
she held out a warning hand. 
"Please don't, Mulder. This is what I want." Her voice cracked on the last
word, and her mouth quivered into a sob. Her finger tightened on the trigger,
and it clicked once. A fraction of an inch further and Agent Dana Scully,
M.D., would be but a memory. She squeezed her eyes tight, tears still flowing
through her eyelashes. "This is what I want," she repeated in a terrified,
high-pitched voice. "I'm sorry." Mulder ran to her, knocking the weapon
fiercely from her hand. It clattered on the floor, spinning into the wall as
he caught her collapsing body into his strong arms, supporting her. He sank to
the floor, still holding her, kissing the top of her head over and over,
whispering to her.
"It's okay, Scully. Nothing is going to happen to you as long as I'm here.
Shh..." He stroked her hair as he kissed a tear off her cheek. She lifted her
eyes to meet his, both hope and fear written there. She wrapped her arms
around him, burying her face in his neck.
"Thank you so much... so much," eeked its way out of her throat. "Oh, Mulder,
thank you.... I wanted to end it all so badly- so badly!- but when I saw you
there in the doorway, I *couldn't*. Oh, God, thank you, thank you, thank you!"
He held her close, afraid that if he let go, the image that had flashed
through his mind of a bloodied body lying crumpled on the floor would realize
itself.
"Scully, when I saw you standing there with a gun to your head, that horrible
look on your face... it terrified me. Even now, thinking that you could be...
oh, Scully, I'm so sorry." He kissed her temple, which he well knew should
then have had a hole through it.
"For what?" He held her face in his hands, only inches from his.
"For almost not being there for you, for not knowing what you were going
through..."
"But you *couldn't have*, Mulder! You did nothing wrong." He shook his head,
kissing her neck.
"And sorry for almost letting you leave me without knowing how much I love
you." Her seemingly recovered form was racked anew by violent sobs, and she
clung to him, pulling herself into his lap. He held her, gently telling her to
shed no more tears.
"I had no idea, Mulder- no idea. If I'd only known... but now all I can say is
that I love you, too, and almost always have." He pushed her away a little,
stroking her cheek with the flat of his hand. He brought her face closer to
his and tentatively brushed his lips agains hers. They separated, and an
incredulous Scully sat staring at Mulder. She pulled him to her again, locking
her mouth on his.
Mulder glimpsed the gun out of the corner of his eye, and he tightened his
hold on her, deepening the kiss.

end