Title: Fatal Shot Author: Claudia Modell E-mail: claudia@subsolo.org Homepage: http://subsolo.org Category: M&S UST Summary: A shot sends Mulder and Scully to a bright and strange place. Archive: yes, please. Notes: Ok, this strange ethics of mine tells me that I should warn you that this is the only character death fic Iīve ever writen and probably the last one. Feedback: Please!!! Thanks: To my friend Sunflowers (Sunny) who had a lot of work traslating this fic from portuguese to english:) To my beta reader, Kim:) Fatal Shot by Claudia Modell *** Mulder felt an immense lightness, a state of remarkable daze. He felt as if he had no arms or legs and asif he didn't have a body any more. But at the same time, he knew he couldn't be dead. He could hear the rustle of leaves in the wind, the sound of children laughing, the forgotten smell of plasticine. He opened his eyes and all he saw was the light - strong, white, invasive. He closed his eyes again and only listened to the sounds that were lulling him into a daze. "Call an ambulance!" It was strange.  The  request didnīt seem to fit the scene where he was. Was somebody hurt? Where was he after all? The noises he was hearing were no longer innocent.  The sounds of the calmy fluttering leaves transformed into the harsh sound of sirens. He became aware that his body was becoming uncomfortable. The pain started slowly, almost like a cramp.  The pain increased every second making Mulder angrier. He knew becoming angry isnīt the best way to deal with pain. It doensīt fix the problem.  But Mulder couldn't help being angry at his own body that sent messages to his brain telling it that something was wrong. He knew that something was wrong, he didn't need the repeating messages from nerve endings. He became aware that he was groaning because of the pain and from the anger at himself. Maybe his groans were more for the anger he felt. Mulder opened his eyes again and saw the ambulance coming. The siren screamed announcing the arrival of the EMTs. When the paramedics reached him they started taking his clothes off to verify the extent of his wounds. Mulder didn't like the intrusion. He was feeling cold, very cold. His warm blood flowing from his wounds onto the ground gave him a sensation of outer warmth. He felt a strange relief as the blood drained from his body. He wasn't able to think. All Mulder could do was savor the slowly fading warmth that surrounded his body. The paramedics put something on his wounds, maybe their own hands. He was not bleeding as badly as moments before. And the cold was growing spreading. Maybe he was imagining what he was feeling, that the paramedics covered his wounds.  Before he could thank them they took him to the ambulance. He felt a sudden wave of dizziness. The nausea was unbearable, his head was spinning, his heart wanted to jump out of his chest. There was something very wrong, very wrong. He knew he was dying. He should start selling the tickets for the movie "Fox Mulder's Life in Ten Seconds". Well, it would be only one ticket, and this movie he had already seen. So he decided, as if it were possible, that he would wait more thirty years to watch this premiere. Mulder smiled thinking about it but let the smile fade away when he realized he was probably laughing at his own death. That was a solemn realization and he shouldnīt transform that into one of his ironies. He intended to receive death in a special way with all respect necessary. After all, his enemies had tried so many times catch him and have never caught him until that moment. Death was one hell of a rival, he thought and smiled again. The ambulance stopped and the nausea from the car's motion stopped too. Thinking carefully, he realized even his pain had reduced. Maybe they had given him something, painkillers, who knew. He was feeling quite comfortable even in these circumnstances. At this moment he realized the absence of sounds around him. The absence of light, smells. It was a huge absence and he was in the center of the void. Maybe he had died because he wasnīt feeling pain anymore, not even cold. He didn't feel anything anymore. The awareness of this made his heart jump, his heart feel assaulted by sudden cold, and all moisture leave his mouth. These would be the start of a well deserved panic. But he felt none of this. He felt nothing. Ok, where is the tunnel with the light at the end? Or where are the angels with harps or his deceased relatives?,he thought. No tunnel, no anything. He tried to open his eyes but didnīt know if he had suceeded or not. Everything was still dark and silent. Mulder had died, he understood that now. thatīs for sure. There wasnīt any other possible explanation. If Scully were by his side she would agree with him. It was a fact, there could be no other explanation for the lack of sensation he was experiencing. It was boring to being dead. It wasnīt like that movie with Demi Moore. He couldnīt go walking in the city without being seen. He couldnīt haunt people. He was unable to move, unable to cry out. What would he do? The worst thing wasnīt even this. All of his expectations about death seemed to be wrong. It made him made to realize how mistaken he was about death. He had imagined that in dying he would retain all the truths. He hoped death would hold the key to every door, knowing not only what ever happened to his sister but even the importance of logarithms. But logicaly not even this he would be allowed to know. Mulder became upset and tried to move. He knew he had no more a body but wanted to move, only this. Let somebody from heaven try to tell him it was forbidden. Let someone come to talk to him, that was everything he really cared about. When he tried to get up he felt a strong twinge in his chest. He didnīt understand how he could feel pain being dead. But the pain wasn't only a impression. He laid down again waiting for it to go away. Now he felt his body. His face was wet, maybe from sweat. He felt his hands and feet cold. He started to feel the coldness again. Maybe this was his own hell, feeling the same things over and over again as if caught in a vortex around a tree. Always coming back to the same point of departure but never reaching the tree. Almost as if driven by his metaphor Mulder saw the tree when he opened his eyes. A big cherry tree with thousands and thousands of cherries growing on the branches. There wasnīt even a single leaf on the tree. It was strange. The tree was moving in his direction. Mulder realized he could move again. He couldnīt decide if he should run away from it or go towards it. Maybe he should try to touch it, pick a cherry, verify if the tree wasn't a serpent that came to tempt him. He extended his hand towards the tree's top and decided to catch a mouthful of cherries. Then the tree yelled, exasperated. It had Scully's voice, her smell too. Well, now that he was thinking about it, it was extremely probable that it was Scully. "Sorry, Scully. I thought I was dead and you were a tree." "Mulder, you haven't even got close to death, the bullet only nicked you and I don't look like a tree, please." "Are you sure it was only a nicked shot? I didn't go into shock? I felt so cold." "Well, it's pretty cold outside." "So, I will have to suspend the tickets sales?" "Which tickets, Mulder? You look pretty disappointed that you aren't dead, you know?" "No, it's not that. I thought I was dead, I became curious about how the otherside is." "The otherside isn't that bad, Mulder, but there's still a plenty of good things here. What about you wait some thirty years to know what exists in the otherside? Please?" Without giving Mulder time to respond Scully said farewell telling him she needed to rest. Mulder closed his eyes waiting for sleep to come. Then he started to feel a soft numbness in all his body. He let himself be dragged by this sensation. It was then he saw a tunnel and, at it's end, Scully. She was smiling very calmly. Suddenly Mulder remembered something. Not his own childhood or teenage years. He remembered the momemt just before his death. He remembered the instant when his partner had been shot, a bullet in her neck, he was sure. She should be pretty injured, but it couldn't be possible; she'd been in the hospital room. But he had seen Scully there as he was seeing her on the otherside the tunnel now. She gave him farewell and disappeared in the light. Before he could follow her, the light vanished as well as the tunnel. When he woke up from this illusion the tears were wetting his face. He hadn't even realized he had been crying. He hadn't even noticed he had the chance to say good bye to her and wasted that moment. But, at the same time, he felt she was all right, that she had found him only to say so. And maybe to tell him that they would meet again, in a long time. Mulder laid his head down in the pillow and let the tears to roll free. Outside the hospital there was only noise of leaves in the wind, inside the room there were only the sound of sobs. End.