World Without End Book One: Chapter Three

by Rachel Anton

Today I saw the sun.

Winter here is long.  It starts in October and from what I've heard, often lasts until mid-April.  The sky is gray every day.  The snow piles higher than some of the buildings.  The cold…the cold is a living presence.  The sun is only in the sky for a few hours a day and it's always obscured by clouds.

Today is April first.  Today I saw the sun.

I went for a walk this afternoon.  It was warm enough to be outside for several hours without having to worry about frostbite but not warm enough for the snow to start melting.

I found him about a hundred feet behind the science center, where the forest begins, on the other side of the fence.  I saw his mother there, icicles dangling from her fur, eyes open.  I asked the guard posted to open the gate for me and let me go to her.  I'm not sure why.

I knelt down beside her and touched her, knowing she was already dead but unable to help myself.  She seemed so peaceful and I needed to feel that.

I ran my fingers over her muzzle.  It was cold and wet.

Then I heard the whimper.  I lifted her body as gently as I could and placed her beside her son, a wriggling, sniffing, very much alive, Rottweiler puppy.  He looked to be about four weeks old.  He was cold and unhappy, probably hungry, but he was alive.  She saved his life, keeping him safe and dry under her body.

I buried mother dog in the snow, unable to reach the ground with only my hands, and took her baby into my arms.  He wiggled his tail happily and licked my cheek.

I think I might have cried.

And then I saw the sun.

Scully was released from the infirmary a few days ago.  When I brought her there after her suicide attempt they decided to keep her for awhile.  She was dangerously underweight and needed to be fed through an iv.  She kept pulling it out until I got Bryan to sit next to her twenty four hours a day.

Sometimes, at night, I went to see her.  She seemed perpetually in the throes of a nightmare, moaning in pain and calling Mulder's name in her sleep.

It made me very glad to have never fallen in love.  Of course, I knew.  When I was a thirteen year old boy my father told me what was going to happen to this world in my lifetime, what I would have to do in order to survive and I decided that day never to let anyone get close enough for me to care when they died.  It worked out pretty well for me.  I've never felt what Scully feels.

Anyhow, the doctors decided that she was well enough to be released this week and that she'd be fine as long as she feeds herself.  I wanted to know if there was anything they could do to insure that she would but, of course, they're doctors not magicians.  Hell, they're not even really doctors.  Scully's one of the only real doctors, trained and experienced in something other than meatball medicine, that we've got.  We need her.  We need her to be well.

I'm meeting her for lunch today.  I'm going to make sure that she's eating.  She's been going to the cafeteria again but I haven't actually seen her putting food into her mouth first hand yet.  I can tell that she's put on some weight though.  And she's been taking care of her personal grooming, thank God.  I was right.  Her hair is quite nice when it's clean and combed.  I think she might be well enough to be given some light work assignments soon.

The sun is still out when I get to the courtyard in front of the cafeteria.  People are at the picnic tables, talking and eating, grabbing the light while they can.  I see her sitting on a bench, under a tree, with a plate in her lap, tossing bits of food to the ground.  For a minute I'm worried that she's having another episode but then when I look at her feet I see what's really going on.  She's feeding a dog.  She's feeding her lunch to a fucking dog.

"What the hell are you doing?"

She looks up at me with this strange smile on her face and I'm unnerved.  I don't know if I've ever seen her smile.

"What do you mean?"

"Scully, why are you giving your food to a dog?"

"Isn't he adorable?"  she croons, tossing another bit of meat from her sandwich and into the thing's mouth.  Then, to appease me I suppose, she takes a bite herself.  The dog yaps excitedly and runs in a circle around her legs.

"Why are you giving your food to a dog?"  I ask again, exasperated.  What the hell is she thinking?

"He's hungry.  Aren't you hungry?  Aren't you a hungry puppy?  Yes, Mommy loves you," she rambles incoherently.  She puts her plate down on the bench beside her and then picks the mangy mutt up and deposits it on her lap.

"Scully, I don't want you wasting food like that."

"It's my food isn't it?  I'm eating some.  I just want to share a little bit of it."

Wagging of tail and licking of face ensues and I feel my temper rising with every passing second.

"Scully, where did this thing come from?"

"Thing?  It's a puppy, Krycek, not a thing.  He's an orphan.  I found him and now he's mine."

She says all of this looking at the dog rather than my face.

"You're not keeping him."

"Yes I am."

She looks at me again and we stare at each other in a silent showdown for a minute or two.

"You can't keep it."

"I'm keeping the dog.  It's not a question."

"Scully, what…what are you gonna feed it?  You can't keep sharing your meals with an animal."

"I talked to one of the cooks.  He's going to give me table scraps, stuff they were gonna throw away anyway."

"Where is it gonna live?"

"My room."

"Your room?"

She nods resolutely and kisses the dog's muzzle with a bizarre slurping sound.

"Scully, he's gonna get huge.  He's small now but…"

"There's room.  And the other people on my hall said they wouldn't mind if he was in the lounge sometimes."

"But what…what's he gonna do?"

"Do?"

"We don't need dogs on the farm.  And we can't eat him."

"No, we certainly can't! He's not going to do anything.  He's going to be my pet."

"You can't keep it.  It's not practical."

She stands up suddenly and shoves the dog into my chest with a scowl.

"All right, fine, Mister Spock.  Take him then.  Take him and euthanize him."

She lets him fall from her hands into my arm and he yaps again and runs his slobbery tongue over my face.

"Scully…"

"Go ahead.  Kill him, Krycek.  He can't give you anything so you'd better get rid of him."

She crosses her arms over her chest and nods shortly.  She thinks I won't do it, that I can't.  That just holding the stupid thing and having it lick my face is gonna turn me into a useless pile of puppy-loving mush.

"Fine.  I will."

"Fine."

He whimpers and wiggles around in my hand and sniffs at my fingers.  He feels too small, skinny and sick.

"Pathetic little thing," I mutter and she looks up at me and then down at the ground.

"Is that what you said about me?"

Oh man.

I shove the thing back into her arms with a sigh.

"Fine.  Keep it.  But you better housebreak it fast.  And you're gonna have to walk it all the time.  Even in the snow.  No paper training or any of that bullshit."

"Yes sir," she snaps with a phony salute.  She sits back on the bench and continues playing with her new pet and although the thing is a waste of space and food, it seems to be making her happy.  I can't think of anything else that's done that.  I guess if it keeps her from shooting herself in the head to have something to take care of then it's not completely useless.

"So, what are you gonna name it?"  I ask, kneeling down to examine him for fleas and other parasites.

"Reticulan.  Ret for short."

I shrug, not sure if this is a good dog name but not ready to get into a fight over something so idiotic.  I trust it has some kind of sentimental significance for her.

"Look, Krycek, you don't need to worry about him being a pain.  We're probably going to be leaving once the snow clears anyway."

"What?"

This is the first I've heard her mention anything like this.  Leaving?  Where in the world does she think she's going to go?

"I want to go…I want to see what's out there, Krycek.  I need to."

"Nothing's out there.  It's not safe."

"I need to see for myself."

"No."

"No?"

She looks shocked and a tiny bit amused that I would even dare to attempt to tell her what to do.  I see a glimmer of the Dana Scully I once knew for the first time in a very long time.  It only increases my desire to see her stay.

"We need you, Scully.  You'd be a big help."

"I…I'm still thinking about it.  We'll see."

Why is the thought of her leaving making my chest constrict?

"Let's go get you some lunch, Krycek.  We'll talk about this later."

She stands up and starts to head inside the cafeteria.  I nod but find myself unable to follow her for a minute.  For some reason all I can do is stand there, staring at the back of her head as she walks away.

The snow is starting to melt, Mulder.  Soon it will be time for me to go.

Krycek doesn't want me to go.  He thinks I'll be killed if I leave here.  But he's offered to give me some supplies and weapons to protect myself if I do.  Considering the value he places on those things, it's quite a generous offer.

I can hardly believe I've been here almost an entire year.  And that it's been almost two years since I last saw you.  I wonder how many more years it will take for me to stop waking up in the middle of the night wanting to die, to join you finally, together for eternity.  Would you be disappointed in me for being so weak?  Maybe after the first century or so you would forgive me and we could be happy.

Krycek talked me into attending my first community meeting today.  It seems silly considering I'm going to be leaving so soon but I'm frankly a little curious about what goes on in these meetings.  They take place once every six months in the main lecture hall in Patterson.  When I enter the room, I'm a little shocked at how many people I see.  I've only really met a few of the members of this community in the time I've been here and even though Krycek told me how many there were, it's still surprising to see something close to four hundred people in this room.  Some of them are clones, some former slaves, some shape-shifters, some half-breeds, and some who, like Krycek, just managed to get lucky and survive.  Everyone here has been injected with the vaccine that you slipped into my bloodstream so many years ago.  Did you know what you were doing in that moment?  Did you realize that saving me would kill so many?  I don't think you knew that you were tipping them off.  I don't think you realized that your actions would set off such a hideous chain of events.  But if you had known, I doubt you would have done things any differently.  Sometimes I get angry when I think about that.

I take a seat in the front row, next to Roseanne.  She's a scientist and she runs the lab here.  She's also a clone.  I think the others from her group are dead.  She's one of the few people I've spoken to and I find her a very calming presence for some reason.  Maybe it's because she looks a little bit like Samantha.  Her hair is a darker shade of brown and she's a little shorter but there's something about her eyes that is familiar.

There's a podium in the front of the room where I suppose, once upon a time, some grizzled, befuddled professor used to lecture to his students about some arcane, academic subject matter.  Today, Alex Krycek stands behind that podium and begins giving a surreal speech about the start of the new farming season and the fact that winter is finally over and it's time to get back into attack mode.

I know this is the right side but the lines are blurring in my head.  When everyone is preoccupied with killing, how can there be a right side?  I guess that's war.

Should I stay here, Mulder?  Would you have wanted to stay?

It's strange to see Krycek like this.  I have to say, he really seems to be in his element.  He's a passionate and determined speaker and, I suppose, a strong leader.  And these people stare at him with awe and terror.  It's actually almost funny.  I remember the way you used to smack him around, Mulder, the way he seemed almost more of a nuisance than a real danger.  Who would have thought he'd end up like this?  Who would have thought I'd have ended up here with him, everyone else I've known vanished without a trace?

He moves on to talk about the work of the various committees and how things are coming along in terms of weapons development.  He gives a harsh, grating lecture about the importance of creating bigger, better, more efficient killing devices which seems to thrill everyone.  It turns my stomach, Mulder.  Is this all there is?  Is this all there ever was?

Then, the final blow, he starts talking about allocating more funds and resources towards the development of a biological weapon, some kind of gas that is effective against shape-shifters, and taking these funds and resources away from medical research.  He starts shooting off his mouth at the people who work in the lab and how they've been spending too much time on that "medical stuff" and telling them they need to get down to business and perfect that stupid gas.

And I just can't stand it anymore.  I don't know why I care.  I sure as hell don't want to save myself.  When my time comes, I'll go happily now.  Won't see me putting up a fight, Mulder.  But these other people, it's just not right.

I know it's not protocol to do so, but I feel a need to say something.  I glance over at Roseanne who is chewing on a pencil and frowning.  She looks unhappy with the whole direction here but I don't think she would ever challenge him.  I don't think anyone here would ever challenge him.  It's really annoying.  What are they so afraid of?  It's Alex Krycek for Christ's sake.

I clear my throat and stand up, almost hearing you cheer me on in the background, Mulder.

"Krycek, can I say something?"

He stares at me blankly for a second, obviously confused by the disruption of his diatribe.

"Scully?"

"Yes, I…I'd like to say something."

There is a low murmur running through the crowd now.  This must be the first time anyone has ever interrupted his holy highness before.

"Um…yeah, go ahead I guess."

"Well, it occurs to me that it might be in everyone's best interest if instead of reducing the importance of your medical research you actually give the area even more focus and attention than it has already."

The room falls absolutely silent and Krycek just stares at me some more, his jaw flapping in the breeze.

"I mean, honestly, I've seen your so called medical lab and I don't know exactly what you expect to do when all the former slaves living here start dropping off like flies in a few years.  We're almost a quarter of your population, Krycek."

He finally seems to regain some of his bearing now that the shock has worn off and he grumbles into his little microphone, "There's plenty of time for that kind of thing.  Right now we need to concentrate on defense, invasion and rescue.  That's been our focus and it's been successful."

"What's the point of rescue if the people you rescue are dying?"

I start to see a few former slaves nodding in approval and the more I speak, the stronger my convictions become.  They need to find a cure for this damn disease.

"Don't you want this movement to grow, Krycek?  To carry on and continue?"

"There's…there's time for that.  We've got a lot of time.  No one's even gotten the cancer yet, Scully."

"That's great.  I'm glad to hear it.  But you know what, you don't have a lot of time.  That's something you realize when you get diagnosed with a fatal illness.  I can attest to that."

He's leaning against the podium now, gripping the side of it in his right hand and looking up at the ceiling.  He opens his mouth to say something and then stops.  Then he looks back at me and if looks could kill…

"All right.  Then what do you suggest we do, doctor?  What's your brilliant plan?"  he asks in a voice laden with sarcasm and anger.

"I suggest that the next time you go into one of these colonies and start murdering people that before you leave you take a look around, maybe go through their files, their computers, and see if there isn't some valuable information there.  Information about the disease.  Information about a cure.  And I also suggest that you devote a lot more time and energy to your medical facilities and if you can't do that personally, find someone who can."

"Oh really?  Is that what you suggest?"

He steps off the podium and actually comes down to my level so that he's standing face to face with me.  He looks even angrier up close.  His cheeks are red and his pupils are dilated.

"And who might you suggest do all of this work, Doctor Scully?"

"There's probably lots of people here who would be willing to work on that.  Maybe if you'd actually ask people what they want, what's important to them, you'd find out."

He takes a deep breath and looks like he's about ready to rip into me but then he stops, seeming to remember that we've got an audience.

"All right, who here is willing to work on what Doctor Scully is suggesting?"  he asks the crowd.

A few reluctant, almost terrified hands go up, including Roseanne's, and then a few more, and a few more until eventually there are about thirty hands in the air.  Certainly enough to form a workable committee.

"Well, there you go," I say, sitting back down and feeling as though I've made my point sufficiently.  No need to continue with the debate.  He nods curtly at me and then turns back to the audience.

"Okay, whoever would like to head up this little venture, please step forward."

A resounding, deafening silence.

"Anyone?"

More silence.

"Anyone?"

"Krycek, you don't necessarily need a head.  You could just have a committee, a group of people working together with equal authority.  Every group doesn't necessarily need an authoritarian figure head.  No offense."

I smirk and a few people actually chuckle.  They stop as soon as he looks at them.

Roseanne clears her throat and then says, "Why couldn't you do it, Doctor Scully?"

I look at her, utterly aghast and shake my head.  How could she even suggest such a thing?

"Well…I…I'm, I don't even know if I'm staying.  I mean…it would…"  I look at Krycek for help but now he's the one smirking.

"Your knowledge, your background, your wisdom is extensive, Doctor Scully.  I think I speak for everyone when I say that we need you.  We need your help.

God, Roseanne.  I thought you were my friend.

"Surely there must be someone here with medical expertise, someone who would be willing…"

"We've got a quite a few scientists but no real doctors.  No one with your experience.  You'd be invaluable.  And you'd make a wonderful leader."

Oh my God.  Make it stop.  I'm starting to wonder why I ever opened my mouth in the first place.

"Shall we put it to a vote Doctor Scully?"  Krycek asks me, all smiles all of a sudden.

"Can I have a word with you?"  I growl and he keeps right on grinning.

"We'll be right back folks.  Doctor Scully wants to tell me a secret."

They all laugh and I feel like punching him.  I bring him out into the hall and ask him what the hell he thinks he's doing.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Me?  You're the one going nuts.  I'm just trying to carry on a nice, routine meeting."

"Why are you letting them…why can't you…"

She throws up her hands in frustration, I suppose because she doesn't have any real reason to be angry with me.

"This isn't me asking you this time, Scully.  They want you.  They need you.  It's not like I told Roseanne to say those things."

Not that I wouldn't have done that if I'd thought of it.  Luckily I didn't have to.  Luckily I'm not the only one who thinks that she belongs here.  She looked so alive back there, so different from the zombie she's been ever since we found Mulder.  I think proving me wrong might be the only thrill she can get out of life at this point.  I don't even care any more that she made me look like an ass.  Maybe it's okay to look like an ass sometimes.

"Krycek, I know…I mean, I feel…I want to help.  Honestly."

"Then do it.  Just do it, Scully.  You'd be perfect for this.  You'd make a terrific leader."

"I don't want to be a leader, Krycek.  I don't…I don't know if I can.  I mean it's all I can do to even get out of bed in the morning.  How am I supposed to be any kind of leader?"

"Scully, maybe this is just what you need.  Maybe this will give you something to get up for.  Look, Scully, as much as it pains me to admit it, you were right back there.  Everything you said was completely true and…and if you weren't here, I never would have even thought of it.  I mean, don't you feel bad for those people, having me as their sole authority figure?"

She nods and smiles and I wish she hadn't agreed so damn quickly.

"And besides, I know this is low but what would Mulder think?  Wouldn't he want you to do this, to carry on?  Wouldn't he want you to save the world, Scully?"

This seems to hit some kind of nerve because she grimaces and glares at me.

"That is low.  You're a manipulative bastard."

"A sexy one though, huh?"

"An arrogant one.  But you're right."

"About the sexy thing?"

She rolls her eyes but she doesn't try to kill me or herself so I guess you could say we're making progress.

"All right.  Fine.  You win.  You're a pig but you win.  I'll stay.  I'll run this thing but I've got a condition."  

"Anything, Scully.  I'm at your mercy."

God, when the hell did that happen anyway?

"I want autonomy, Krycek.  I want this to be my project.  That means no butting into my work, no telling me what to do and how to do it, no going over my head and telling the people working for me what to do.  In fact, I don't even want you in the lab at all unless I ask you specifically to be there and…what are you laughing at?"

"Upryamuy devotchka…"

"What did you say?"

"Never mind, Scully."

"Why are you laughing?"

"It's just…you're so…"

"So what?"

I think she'd hit me if I told her even one of the words on my mind so I don't say anything.

"Look Krycek, those are my conditions.  If you can't live with them then you're going to have to find somebody else."

"No, Scully, that's fine.  Perfect in fact.  It's yours."

The noise of chatter and speculation coming from the conference room is growing louder and louder.  I think it's time to go back before they decide to assassinate me and make Scully their new commander in chief.

"Why don't you go give them the good news, Doctor Scully."

I hold open the door for her and when she walks back down the aisle to reach the podium they all start applauding, cheering for her.  They get more and more enthusiastic and by the time she's behind the microphone it sounds like a freaking Michael Jackson concert in 1986.  She looks tiny and overwhelmed.  She has to adjust the mic for her height and when she clears her throat into it, the sound is deafening.

I run back down the aisle myself, to the sound of silence thank you very much, and take her previous seat next to Roseanne.

"What did you say to her?"  she asks me.

"I asked her to marry me."

"And she's still here?"

"Shut up, she's talking."

And she is.  But for the life of me I can't seem to concentrate on what it is that she's saying.  All I can focus on is the light, the energy in her eyes.  She's alive, aware, focused.  I know she'll never be the woman she once was.  She'll never recover from losing Mulder.  But maybe she can become a new woman.  An even stronger woman, hardened by her suffering but no less determined.  An angry woman.  A woman who I would be blessed to have on my side.

End Chapter Three
Continued in Chapter Four

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