Sparkle

"Scully, are you there?" I shouted, pounding on the women's bathroom door. I had no idea what had happened to her when she'd rushed out of the office twenty minutes ago. I was afraid it was something really serious. She'd looked bad since morning, and I was afraid to ask what was wrong with her; in fact, I knew what the answer would be. I didn't want to hear it anymore; I knew she was sick and trying to hide her indispositions and bad days from me... but at what cost??? I noticed she'd lost weight, her skin was becoming paler with each passing day—it was paper gray. Her eyes had lost their sparkle, and there was no longer any will to fight. She had accepted her fate... I could see she no longer had the strength to resist him, and I wanted to fight; I didn't want her to change her attitude... To make him merely a passive observer of what was happening to her body. It was awful – watching the last glimmer of hope die down… I knocked on the bathroom door again and waited for her to open it. I pressed my ear to the door, trying to catch any sound of movement on the other side. I thought I heard her body fall to the floor, and I was afraid she might hurt herself further. I knew she hadn't locked the door behind her, but I didn't want to go in there earlier, so as not to disturb her. However, when the image of Scully appeared in my mind: unconscious, her temple smashed against the cabinet, lying in a pool of blood, I turned the knob and slowly entered. I looked around the room, but I couldn't see my red-haired partner anywhere. One of the stall doors was closed, and a noise was coming from there. I walked up to it and knocked gently…

"Scully, are you okay…" I asked uncertainly. I knew she wouldn't admit her weakness, but I knew that at least I'd given her a chance...

"Yes, it's okay, I'm leaving now, just give me a moment..." The rest of her words were muffled by Dana's loud cough. I knew she'd vomited. I didn't like this whole situation.

"Scully, are you sure you're okay?" I asked again. I wanted so badly for him to admit he wasn't, so I could help her... To hold her, hold her close, and whisper words of encouragement in her ear. Words that would help her through all of this, encourage her to keep fighting, to prove to herself and everyone around her how strong she was and that she could fight... and win...

"Mulder, just give me a moment, I'll be out in a moment. Yes, everything's okay," she forestalled my question. What was I supposed to do? I left the bathroom and stood right by the door. Five minutes later, Scully emerged. I looked at her; she was pale, her eyes were watery, and there were tiny beads of sweat on her forehead… She looked terrible, I had to admit. She looked at me and smiled weakly.

"Really, Mulder, I'm fine... I'm fine," she said, and started walking toward our office without even waiting for my answer. I followed her, watching as each step caused her immense effort and, apparently, pain. We had almost reached our office when I saw her small body sway and begin to fall to the floor... I ran to her and managed to catch her. I knelt down and rested her head on my lap. She had fainted, I knew she would—I had a premonition. I brushed her hair away from her forehead and gently placed her on the floor. Quickly, practically running, I returned to the bathroom, soaked my wipes, and returned to Scully. I wiped her forehead with the damp cloth and then tried to revive her in any way I could. Fortunately, I succeeded. She looked at me with blurry eyes. I wasn't sure if she realized where she was. She looked around, and I noticed she couldn't focus on one thing for long. I had to take matters into my own hands; I'd let her keep this a secret for too long. I stroked her hair, she looked at me, and tried to get up. I immediately grabbed her shoulders and gently but firmly placed her on the ground.

"Scully, I'm taking you home." She shook her head and started to open her mouth to say something. "No, you have nothing more to do here, we're going, and that's it." I beat her to it.

"I still have a report to write, it's all good now," she said weakly, and tried to get up again. She was too weak. I looked at her face and saw beads of sweat forming on her forehead, and shivers starting to run through her body.

"Don't argue with me, I can see what's happening. We're going home." I looked at her and was terrified. Blood was running from her nose. "Or to the hospital." I whispered to myself, but Scully heard me and shook her head. I took out a tissue and wiped away the blood.

"We have to go to the hospital," I said, lifting her from the floor.

"No, Mulder, take me home." She said it so quietly I barely understood her words. I looked at her and then realized why she didn't want to go to the hospital…

"Okay, we'll go to your place." I kissed her forehead and started walking toward the elevator, hoping to get out of this damn FBI building…

Somehow, I managed to get out of there without anyone noticing. The rumors about Scully would have just started. I didn't even want to think about it. I walked to my car and managed to open the door while holding Scully. I sat her in the passenger seat and fastened her seatbelt. Her eyes were closed, she was breathing heavily, shivers ran through her body every now and then, and beads of sweat appeared on her forehead. I felt sorry for her. But I was also furious with her for coming to work in such a state and for refusing to admit how bad she felt. I brushed a strand of hair from her forehead and stroked her cheek. It was warm, she had a fever. She opened her eyes and looked at me.

"Mulder, I feel sick," he said quietly, and I knew what that meant. I unbuckled her and allowed her to slither out of the car a little. She coughed a few times, but didn't manage to throw up. She just spat out a mouthful of saliva and tried to sit back down. I helped her straighten up and once again brushed back the hair that had fallen over her forehead.

"Can we go now?" I asked, and she took a deep breath and nodded in agreement. I ran around the car and got behind the wheel. I looked at my partner again, and the sight of her made something deep inside me ache. I shook my head to clear the thoughts and started the car.

Twenty minutes later, we arrived at her apartment. She looked even worse than she had in the FBI parking lot. I had no idea what to do or how to react in this situation. It was so strange. Scully always took care of me, but this was different. I got out of the car and picked up Scully. She was shaking. It seemed to me that she was getting paler with each passing second. We got to her apartment. Scully looked at me with hope in her eyes. He believed I could help her, to lift all the weight and pain she carried. I felt tears welling up in my eyes, but I had to hold them back, I had to be strong, show her I could do this.

"Can you stand?" I asked her.

"I think so," she said, and I knew she couldn't, but she wouldn't give up until she tried. I slowly lowered her. Her feet touched the ground... I pounded her waist, waiting until she was safely on her feet, until her legs remembered what they were for.

"You can let go of me," she said, and I shook my head in denial.

"Mulder, I'm fine. I'll manage. You can let me go and go home. I'll manage." She said it all with complete conviction. She wanted to believe what she was saying, she wanted to convince me, but she couldn't. I let her go so he could believe she'd finally convinced me. So he'd think she'd fooled me again. I looked at her, and then she tried to take a step forward. She wanted to prove to me that she was strong, that she was fine. I watched her desperate struggle, her pointless attempts to prove to me that she could handle this on her own. I kept a calm face as my soul was being torn into millions of tiny pieces. Her body swayed, and she reached out her hand to the couch to steady herself, but she was too weak. Her body collapsed to the floor, and I mentally rushed to her side to help her. I tried to lift her, but she pushed me away and tried to do it herself – she couldn't… I watched passively as her pointless and futile struggle sapped her last strength. After several failed attempts, her frail body collapsed to the floor. I looked at her and saw her body begin to shake. I thought it was tremors, but a moment later I heard her muffled sobs. I slowly walked over to her and embraced her. I gently stroked her shoulders, her back, her hair… I tried to do anything to make her relax, to let me be with her in this, to make her trust me with all her being… I think I succeeded…

"Mulder, I'm cold," she whispered. I stood up and, for the second time that day, lifted her in my arms. We went to her bedroom and I sat her on the bed. When I looked at her, she was paler than when we'd been in the living room. I guessed why. I helped her up and led her to the bathroom. She knelt by the toilet and vomited. She coughed a few times, and during that time, I wet a towel and began wiping her forehead. She leaned back against the wall. She was breathing heavily. She looked as if taking in every millimeter of air was causing her excruciating pain.

"Mulder, please... Get out of here. I don't want you to see me like this. I don't want you to remember me like this," she said before leaning over to vomit again. I walked over to her, brushed her hair back, and began wiping her forehead again.

"I'll get out, but only for a moment. You have to change." She looked at me with watery eyes and nodded in agreement. I quickly walked to her bedroom, grabbed a few things, and returned to the bathroom. I went to the bathtub and turned on the water.

"Mulder, what are you doing?" she asked, looking at me with disbelief.

"You need to take a bath, it'll be better then..." "I hope so," I added to myself. When the tub was full, I turned off the water and went to Scully. I lifted her off the floor and sat her on the edge of the tub. I slowly began to unbutton her jacket, then her blouse. I helped her take off her pants. She was left in just her underwear... I tried not to look at her body as I stripped off the last of her clothes and helped her into the tub. God knows how hard it was to stop myself... I helped her bathe, every time she wanted to vomit, I held a bowl out for her and brushed her hair away... I helped her out of the water, dried her off, and dressed her in clean clothes. I started walking with her toward the bedroom, but after two steps, her stomach gave out, and we had to go back... She vomited again, moments later, shivering terribly, only whispering that she was cold. I lifted her off the floor and hugged her. I carried her to the bedroom and put her to bed. She was shivering. I covered her with everything I could find in her apartment, but still, I couldn't warm her. Finally, I lay down behind her and hugged her close.

"Try to sleep," I said quietly.

"I can't do this, Mulder, let's talk for a moment." She asked in a thin, childish voice, and my heart ached for the second time that day.

"Why didn't you tell me? It's because of the treatments, right?" I asked, nuzzling into her hair.

"I didn't want you to see me like this. I didn't want you to remember me as a weak and ravaged woman." She whispered, her breathing becoming increasingly even... She was well on her way to sleep...

"Scully, I won't have to remember you; you'll always be with me. You understand, you can't think otherwise. You'll get better, you understand. You have to fight. You can't give up." I pressed her closer to me.

"Mulder, can't you understand that I no longer have the strength to fight. My days are numbered, I'll die soon. I've lost hope, I've lost faith, I have nothing left...

" "You can't say that, you have me, and I have you, and you're the only person I live for. If it weren't for you, I would have been gone long ago. You're the best thing that's ever crossed my path. Nothing better could have happened to me in my entire life. You can't just leave me like this... You have to fight, Dana, if not for yourself, then for me, do you understand?" I asked. I wanted to make sure that all my words reached her, that maybe I had somehow managed to rekindle a spark of hope within her, which would soon turn into a fire..."

"Did you hear what I said?" I asked her quietly. He didn't answer. I gently rose and looked at her – she had fallen asleep. She had fled the pain, the fear, the helplessness that enveloped her… The lack of faith and hope, she hid in the deepest corner of her mind and reveled in what was there… Her face was so peaceful when she slept. She was so trusting, beautiful, and vulnerable then. I leaned over her and kissed her cheek.

"Sweet dreams, sleep soundly and gather strength, you'll need it," I whispered. For a moment, I watched her chest rise and fall… It was unfair that such an innocent person as Dana had to fight for her life and struggle with illness when so many criminals roamed the world… As if nothing could get them. I felt tears begin to flow down my cheeks… I could let them out now. Dana was asleep, and I no longer had to be strong, no longer had to pretend to be unwavering and unmoved. All the events of that terrible day flashed before my eyes. Every fall, every bout of vomiting, shivering, fainting, crying, the image of her tearful and blurry eyes… I silently got out of bed and left the bedroom, not wanting to wake her. I went to the living room and lay down on the couch. I grabbed a pillow and buried my face in it to muffle and stifle my sobs. Uncontrollable waves of grief and rage shook my body. I wanted to scream, to bite, to lie on the floor and pound on her, just to show how much I disagreed with what had happened to her. But I couldn't do that. I couldn't waste my energy behaving in such a childish and stupid way... When the tears stopped burning my cheeks, I got up from the couch and went to the bedroom. I lay down behind her again and hugged her close... I didn't want her to wake up in the middle of the night alone; I wanted to be with her, because I hated being alone and scared too. I covered myself with the blanket and slowly fell asleep... I hoped the next day would be better for us...