#but this year they can't stay in the cabin that has electricity and running water

[justawfulxmenart]

This is a "sneak peek" to my upcoming fic. In it, Scully's pregnancy symptoms make Mulder afraid that her cancer has come out of remission. I hope you enjoy…

Kinnikinnick Lake, Oregon, April 1, 2000

Hey, Scully! Supper's ready!" Mulder calls.

Scully heaves the ax to her shoulder. Perspiration stands out on her forehead. She feels that peculiar catch in her chest. She's been feeling it off and on for the past two weeks alongside sudden bouts of dizziness. 

Anemia, was her knee-jerk prognosis. But the cause of it? Along with the nosebleed that woke her up three nights ago? It causes a pit of dread in her stomach.

But the petite redhead turns to put on a smile for her fiance. Mulder is waving to her from the door of their tiny cabin deep in the Oregon back-country. The blue Cascades are beautiful on this fresh Spring day. The air seems tangy and sharp with the first hint of the balmy weather to come. The aspens in the grove circling the cabin whisper intimately to one another with their new coats of silvery-green leaves. 

Scully hefts the ax and brings it down on the chopping block. Mulder returns her smile. He teases her about her insistence on doing the wood-chopping chores. And she teases him right back, saying she can't grow too soft, letting him do all the manual labor around their new home. Their banter is in good fun, but Scully notices, with a pleased glow, how her biceps ripple under the sleeves of her t-shirt.

Mulder disappears inside the low door over which are, spanning almost six feet, the impressive antlers of a bull elk, a sort of "housewarming gift" to them from their adult daughter. As Scully passes the mudroom, pulling off her brogans, and enters the kitchen, she smells Abbey's latest kill roasting in the oven of the wood burning stove. Scully inhales deeply: pheasant… 

Abbey has a family of her own now, but she never forgets her mom and dad. She's shown her aptitude as a huntress almost since she was a baby and her parents have never been short on fresh meat. 

Scully feels a twinge of guilt. She doesn't want to take food from the many hungry mouths in Abbey's pack, but telling the girl to stop dragging game back to her mom and dad is like telling the sky not to rain. Secretly, Scully loves it. Especially now that she has an inexplicable craving for pheasant, something she only had a passing liking for before.

The woman's mouth waters at the tantalizing scent of the roasted bird. Mulder is a self-taught chef. It's a skill born and honed from necessity as a stay-at-home home dad with a demanding toddler with a voracious appetite. Cooking is something Mulder both loves doing and takes great pride in. And, although both of them are competitive with each other, Scully has never felt any rancor over her man being the better chef.

"I saw Old Eli at the hardware store," he says.

His back is turned to her as he stoops down to pull the bird from the oven. Mulder always seems to be stooping here - ducking to walk through the low doorways, struggling to accommodate his tall lanky frame to these rather cramped quarters. The cabin is exactly three rooms, with a privy and a cache out back. It has electricity run from a generator and a hand pump in the kitchen, but no flush toilet or central heating. But it was hard for Scully and Mulder to find a better place in this area on such short notice. Besides, during the past three years they've lived at far more inconvenient places. 

"Yeah?" she replies. She's breathing heavily now and struggling not to let it show. 

"Old coot said we're 'in for some weather,'" Mulder continues, still facing the oven. 

Scully notices appreciatively how his shoulders bunch powerfully beneath his t-shirt, made damp from the heat of the woodstove. She isn't the only one being kept in shape by living rough. 

"What does that even mean? Weather happens all the time!" he says. "Weather is happening now; look out the window!"

He turns to her. Mulder's hair is so long now Scully often teases him about his clean-cut style during their days in the FBI. His Grizzly Adams beard is now well past his clavicle. But his greyish-green eyes still spark with the same mischief she fell in love with all those years ago. Fox Mulder's charm is still intact - and his sarcasm too.

Then his grin vanishes as he sees her pale appearance. Shit, Scully curses herself as another fit of lightheadedness takes her. She can't hide it from her lover. She tries to grip the corner of the kitchen table for support, but the room sways and she stumbles sideways.

Her ears buzz loudly and black spots dance in front of her eyes. She, however, falls against Mulder's chest. She takes deep steadying breaths, drinking in the scents of woodsmoke and her partner's own distinctive smell clinging to his sweater. She takes comfort from it.

"...Need to quit that day-drinking, Scully," Mulder says as the buzzing in her ears subsides. 

His joking, however, (Scully allows herself one glass of red wine per week) belies the worry shining in his eyes. His forehead furrows into lines as he tucks her sleek auburn head under his chin. 

Scully finds herself up in his arms. It half-annoys her how easily he can lift her. Now, though there are few things she can stand less than Mulder fussing over her, she feels so drained she hardly cares. 

She's been feeling this way more and more - fatigued, long before her day is through, her eyelids fighting sleep, her limbs almost as useless as sticks, her feet struggling to put one in front of the other. At six o'clock in the evening, all she wants to do is sleep. Sleep until her alarm clock goes off at five-thirty. And then she's practically propping her eyes open to stay awake.

Scully feels herself sinking down onto a soft nest of cushions by the fireplace. 

"Tell me what's going on," Mulder murmurs as he gently lays her down. 

Mulder picks stray locks of fiery hair out of her face. His eyes, as wide, gentle and dark as a collie's, search her face. They are trusting eyes. For all his bluster as a young cocky FBI agent, Scully almost immediately discerned his true gentle nature when she, a headstrong young doctor herself, walked into his basement office seven years ago.

The woman sees plainly the undercurrent of fear in his soft gaze. 

"I'm fine," she says. 

She hates how raspy, weak and unconvincing her voice sounds. The sounds around her still seem muffled and muted. 

"I'm just tired," she adds and gives him one of her quick reassuring smiles. 

He nods slowly, but his eyes never leave her face. Scully has known this man in many ways - as a partner, as a friend, as a lover. Three years ago, he agreed to co-parent a child with her, no questions asked. And when she got down on her knees a month ago and asked him to be her husband, his agreement was swift and enthusiastic.

Scully knows there is no fooling him.

A wave of utter exhaustion overtakes her, so great she can barely focus her eyes on his face. Mulder covers her with a heavy quilt. Then he curls his big warm body around her. Her small ass fits as perfectly against the curve of his crotch as a little spoon fits into a larger one. His great sinewy arms wrap around her tiny form. They'd been made strong by the demanding exercise during his years in the FBI. Now their rusticated lifestyle kept them fit and toned. 

Perhaps on the surface Scully loathes his fussing, but when she's this exhausted, it's wonderful to feel his body against hers. She turns her head to press it against his chest. His big loving heart beats steadily and strong against her skull. Her last sensation is the warm dry brush of his lips against her cheek…

***

She's trying to hide it from him. But Mulder hears her coughing fits during the wee hours of the morning; he sees the specks of blood on her pillowcase when he goes to change the bedding. And now there's Scully's sudden faintness, her spells of fatigue that take her so suddenly. 

She says she's tired … but Scully never gets tired.

She seems to have an inexhaustible amount of energy. In their years as FBI agents, during the three chaotic years of raising their daughter, in times of privation and hardship while they were on the run, Scully served as a protector, a provider, a beacon of strength Mulder rallied around. 

Mulder watches her sleep curled in his arms like a cat. Her mussed hair is longer now than it's ever been since he's known her. He secretly loves the kinky curliness of it, the way it spreads across his chest like a red blanket. Scully's mouth hangs slightly open the way it always does when she's fast asleep. With a smile, he sees that she's drooling a little.

She's such a strong, powerful woman. With her alabaster skin, proud curving nose and wide flashing blue eyes, Mulder thinks she has an almost otherworldly goddess-like quality of beauty. 

She's always been fighting, fighting for the victims she's advocated for, fighting against the injustice of evil men, fighting for survival itself - survival for her man, her daughter and herself. 

It's in moments like these, however, when he realizes just how light she feels in his arms, how delicate and birdlike her bones are. He knows in these quietly terrifying moments how fragile her life truly is. How she could be taken from him in a flash, in just a moment.

Since that horrible fall of 1997, that fear of losing her forever has haunted Mulder. And he hasn't since then, not even for a second, taken his beautiful woman for granted. 

That awful time, during the better part of 1997, she acted in the same way she does now: inexplicable coughing, nosebleeds, sudden crushing exhaustion. He'd even awoken in the inky darkness of 2 a.m. this morning to hear her retching as quietly as she could. 

Mulder had feigned sleep as she vomited. As he lay there in their bed, the blackness pressing against his eyeballs, Mulder instinctively felt as Scully did … It was as if he and her relied on the same superstition. If they didn't draw attention to her abrupt change in behavior, then they could deny the crippling fear in both their hearts.

This was how it was when Scully was diagnosed with brain cancer four years ago. And Fox Mulder is terrified that his very greatest fear is coming true … that her cancer has come out of remission.

[snekjoy]

I see your water = healing and fire = chaos and raise you the exact opposite.

Yeah, water can clean stuff and whatever but it can also drown you, and with enough of it it can do so with no chance of you ever escaping. It can slowly rise and envelop you and steal breath from your lungs and there is no solution. With fire you can roll and smother the flames, or you can use something to kill them. Something like water, which has no cure. Water can crash into you with the force of a building and it can flatten anything in its path, and if it feels otherwise it can simply go around it. It is so fluid and so malleable that it doesn't care what's in its way, whether it be a wall that's just too short or a building that's in the wrong place or you. It can take you and you will never be found again. It can swallow your bones and your body and they will rest somewhere, alone. It can turn red with your blood and it can be just out of reach and it can be toxic and it can be alight with electricity and it can be terrifying. Preconceived notions of a basin in a church, tamed water held still because it has nowhere to go are useless. That is not what water means. That is a tiny percentage. The water you drink that cools your throat is nothing compared to the freezing water that slams into you and gives no mercy. The water that keeps you alive, making up most of your body, is nothing. Wait until a wall faces you, a wall you cannot climb and you cannot run from, because it is chasing. It is chasing you, and you cannot hide from it, for it takes the shape of whatever it is kept in, be it a room, a street, your lungs. Every corner is filled. Nowhere is safe.

And yes, fire can burn things quick or whatever, but it can also be kept in a campfire and sat around while conversations are held under the stars. It can warm you to the bone, return the colour to your cheeks and chase the cold away. It can be a candle, lighting a path in the dark, it can burn away bacteria and it can be safety. A rising line of smoke is seen in the distance, and you know a cabin is nearby. Somewhere to stay where outside can't hurt. Warm light reaches the corners of a cave and someone sings a song, a rhyme they learned when they were small, and someone else joins in and mumbles the words because they can't quite remember all of them, and the fire crackles like it's laughing fondly when one of them cracks a joke, and without it this conversation would feel empty, wouldn't it? It's like a third person. Someone to fill the empty spaces, when nobody knows what to say, so they just look into the light and let it talk, let it whisper "we can stay here for a while." Embers rise into the sky and you remember that when you were small, you thought that was how stars were made, and you look up. You know now that they're balls of light and fire millions of billions of light years away, and realise maybe you weren't too far off. The stars themselves are fire, guiding as sailors try to live through the treacherous seas. They know which one means home, which ball of fire is the one to look to, to hope to. Those stars aren't actually there; some of them are dead, and all we see is the light, still travelling though its home is gone. It's come so far to see you, and one day it may burn out and the light will be gone, but we saw it, didn't we? That light from that fire in the sky that shone so beautifully in the dark. We saw it.

[karenarella22]

Epilogue.

Fourth of July 2019.

-We continue with the following news, in the police field, the new chief of the NewShire police department Dylan Carter will open an internal affairs investigation to determine the possible involvement of a group of officers assistants to the former Sergeant Brown, murdered at the hands of the detective police officer Aeryne Wolf on June 20, after the scandal caused by the news of the escape of the detective and the death of the former sergeant, the events in which the officer with 20 years of experience was involved came to light, a series of murders that occurred in the region at the hands of Vinicio Conte in conjunction with a group of relatives of the same victims who plotted to carry out these heinous crimes, at least 5 people were killed and 3 injured. According to the statements of the new police sergeant, the investigations will be carried out for at least three months, which will include at least a dozen police officers who will remain available to the justice system for questioning, in other news...- I turned off the TV and I look at the view outside the cabin that gives me the sight of dawn rising over the forest, I take the cane that helps me walk on cold days and I get out of bed with all the laziness in the world.

The cabin in the woods has two rooms, one main room and one for Julia, it has two floors, running water and electricity and walls are painted chalk white so that the light that illuminates the outside also illuminates the house. Living so long in the dark makes you yearn for the light inordinately.

I have a vegetable garden that works to provide me with food on winter days and also as my own personal psychologist that I go to when I feel that I cannot fight my demons alone. The kitchen has become my personal refuge inside the house, the days when I can't go out I fill my home with the smell of delicious foods that make me remember the good times of my childhood, I can't say I'm an expert in it but at least I haven't poisoned anyone. I put some logs in the fireplace, the big block of limestone in the center of the whole house works only with big blocks of wood which I learned to collect very patiently after a bit of trial and error.

I caress the Neapolitan Mastiff that has been with me for a month now, when I found him at the door of the shelter where I was going to adopt, with the money I had managed to buy a cabin in the middle of the frozen tundra deep in the forests of Alaska. I had to run away, change my appearance and my identity in order to escape the army of officers who were waiting to arrest me for the murder of the sergeant, who at that time was considered a hero.

I throw the ball to my puppy while I serve myself coffee, the fatness of the little dog makes me feel guilty for giving him so much food, but his face compels me, I take the phone and go out to the terrace observing the view, I never thought that a cold place could give me one of the most wonderful shows I've ever seen in my life, the life in this place is incredible and the instincts of nature push all living beings to move forward, despite extreme climates.

The sound of a notification reaches my phone, I lie down in the outdoor hammock I have while I unlock the screen that shows a beautiful smiling photo of Julia and Dylan, I smile when I see the message, despite not being together all year we continue to function as a couple and that makes me extremely happy, knowing that I am not alone in the world is one of the most beautiful feelings I can experience.

-Today she played baseball, the mothers look at me a lot, it helps- there is no my love, affection or sweet and sweet nicknames, we must keep up appearances in case one day they find his phone, it is worth emphasizing that I am still a wanted fugitive murderer by law- Julia has just scored a point, we were practicing her shot to reach the goal, she has improved a lot-

-Be careful not to get too close, stay away from trouble, you'll see - I take another sip of coffee and smile when I see the video that Dylan sent me of the almost adult teenager who just scored her first home run - Tell her I'm very proud of her, to stay away from Jess, or I'll kick his ass- Jesse McGwire is Julia's blessed ex-boyfriend who broke her heart a few months after they started dating when she found out he was texting her best friend. A whole soap opera was put together, I had to call Dylan and convince him to stay home with his daughter and not go to the street to kick that kid's butt.

The only thing that makes me smiles during the day while the rest of the time I continue to fight my demons.

***

OMG I hope you all enjoyed this books as much as I enjoy it when I wrote it. It took me 3 years to finish it and then to translate. English is not my mother tongue so any mistakes that you may had found let me now along the way, I would really appreciate you let me know. Thank you for getting this far... and just to let you now... this isn't over. 

You can find the next book in my profile.