Title: The Sadness Of Her Might 
Author: shawntaw 
Rating: PG 
Disclaimer: I ain't their Mama; I didn't give birth to these 
characters, CC did. Making no money. 
Feedback at shawntaw@hotmail.com :) 
A WEBSITE OF MY STORIES (Thanks, Daniela): 
www.geocities.com/corran_14776/shawntaw.html 
DEDICATED TO SYNTAX6. "I'm not worthy...I'm not worthy..." (I hope 
you're familiar with "Wayne's World" *Big Grin*) 
BIG NOTE: This was inspired by reading Syntax's "Isometry" (AWESOME!! 
KEEP GOING!!) and by a discussion with my bestfriend about the 
movie "My Life." The two combined in my head and just wouldn't go 
away. 
"My Life" was a movie that I saw forever ago about a man who is dying 
with a terminal disease - I think it was cancer. He has small 
children he will never see grow up and so he makes all these 
videotapes for them to watch as they grow up...teaching his son to 
shave...dating advice for his little girl...and so on. I bawled my 
eyes out and NEVER rented it again. 

Well, now that you waded through my "rambling diatribe" - on with the 
show.. 
********************************************************************** 
***** 
~~~Friday night~~~ 
Scully sniffled and stared off into space as the videotape reached 
its end and began to automatically rewind. 
*Maybe it was a mistake to rent this tape again. What was I thinking?* 
She felt the tears trailing down her face, and then, as though a dam 
had broken, pour more heavily down her cheeks. 
Scully tried to stop. She took deep breaths, succeeding only in 
giving herself the hiccups. She finally gave up and sobbed whole- 
heartedly with her hands covering her face, elbows stabbing into her 
thighs as she leaned her weight on them. 
After a few moments Scully began to sniffle and realizing she needed 
some tissue, stood and stumbled towards the bathroom. 
She absent-mindedly wiped her tear-dampened hands on her jeans and 
reached for some toilet paper so she could blow her nose. 
Scully gasped. Her fingertips were smeared red. 
*Oh God! Please no..* 
She looked in the mirror over the sink and nearly collapsed as she 
took in her blood-streaked lips and chin. The front of her sweater 
was dotted with red as well. 
Scully fearfully looked down at the front of her jeans and, sure 
enough, two dark smears marked the denim over the top of each thigh 
where she'd wiped her hands. 
She pulled the light blue towel from the rack and shakily turned on 
the water in the sink to wet it. 
Scully held the wet corner to her nostrils and tried not to panic. 
*Stop the bleeding first. Clean up after.* 
She breathed slowly through her mouth, leaned against the sink, and 
closed her eyes. 
The sudden sound of knocking caused her eyes to fly open. 
*This late? Did I remember to lock the door? Who-* 
Scully closed her eyes again. It could only be Mulder. 
"Just a minute!" she yelled and looked down at herself. 
She had to quickly change. She needed to clean up - fast. 
Scully turned, trembling, to hurry from the bathroom and entangled 
her bare feet in the rug causing her to fall heavily to the floor 
with a loud thud. 
"Damn!" 
She struggled against frustrated tears and renewed bleeding as she 
attempted to stand and hold the bloodied, blue towel to her nose to 
staunch the flow. 
Scully twisted to ungnarl her feet from the fluffy bathroom rug and 
had managed to rise to her knees when two black dress shoes appeared 
in her vision. 
"Scully! You're bleeding!" 
Before she could react, she was hauled to her feet as a manila folder 
fluttered to the floor. 
"Skinner?" she managed to stammer into her boss's face as he urged 
her toward the sink. 
He said nothing, his lips in a grim line as he took the towel from 
her and wiped away the blood. He tilted her head in the light and 
squinted his eyes through his wire-rim glasses. 
"I think its stopped." 
His eyes studied her, taking in the blood on her clothes and face. 
Wide-eyed, she stared back at him, still in shock. 
Scully blinked trying to pull her dignity back about her like a 
tattered coat. 
"Sir? What are you doing here?" 
He regarded her for a moment and then realized he was still gripping 
her arms. Skinner quickly let go of her and stepped back, allowing 
her to reclaim her personal space. 
"I tried calling you from my cellphone and when it was busy, I just 
stopped by..." he trailed off, looking around for something. 
Obviously finding it, he walked around her and knelt to gather the 
scattered papers back into the manilla folder from which they'd 
fallen. He stood again and reordered the papers as he spoke. 
"The Chicago office needs a couple of agents to fly out early 
tomorrow, so I wanted to give you heads up ASAP," Skinner gave a 
rueful half-smirk and continued, "They woke me up to tell me, but I 
was hoping when I found your phone busy that I wasn't disturbing your 
sleep. I know how you must need your rest with..your illness." 
Scully's eyes turned cold, "I don't need babying, sir. If I had been 
asleep, I hope you would have awoken me." 
Skinner looked surprised, "I would have, Agent Scully. I'm merely 
concerned about your health." 
"Well, don't be. I'm fine," she said firmly. 
His eyes took in the scene before him. Scully was covered in head to 
toe with smears and smatterings of blood. She was pale and shaky. 
Skinner's eyes returned to hers. 
"Have you contacted Mulder yet?" Scully asked, ignoring his appraisal 
and turning to the sink to rewet the towel and start cleaning herself 
up. 
"I tried to, but I couldn't get him. Voice-mail when I called his 
cellular and answering machine when I called his apartment." 
She had abandoned the towel and was cupping her hands under the 
running water from the sink faucet, preparing to wash her face. Her 
hair kept falling forward and, frustrated, she angrily tucked it back 
behind her ears. 
"He either went for a run, is with the guys, or will show up here," 
she said as she splashed her face, getting the dangling tendrils of 
hair wet, "or, of course, he could have gone off on something on his 
own. With Mulder you never know." 
With a muffled curse, she again tucked the uncooperative hair behind 
her ears and began to scrub her face with soap. She closed her eyes. 
*Maybe if I ignore him, he'll go away* 
As she bent over the sink to rinse the suds away, she felt her hair 
gently gathered and lifted off her neck. She paused and then rinsed 
her face. 
He continued to hold her hair in check as she reached for a dry 
towel. Skinner let go when she lifted her eyes to meet his in the 
mirror. 
"Thank you." 
"No problem," he answered solemnly, "Does Mulder know how bad its 
gotten?" 
She dropped her eyes and meticulously rehung the clean towel, 
arranging the edges carefully. 
"I'm fine," she said, with only a very slight tremor in her voice, 
turned away from him and bent to pick up the soiled towel. She 
straightened out the bathroom rug with her foot. 
She looked up. He was still watching her. 
"I need to change, if you don't mind," Scully said to him. 
He waited for a moment. He wanted to argue her assessment of her 
health, she could tell, but he conceded and left the bathroom. 
"I'll be in the living room," he said as she followed him out of the 
bathroom, through her bedroom and out of her bedroom door. She saw 
him heading for the couch as she shut the door. 
********************************************************************** 
**** 
Skinner could see the tiny splotches of blood that marked Scully's 
path from the couch to the bathroom as he approached the couch. 
There was a small smear on the arm of the couch. 
*She sat here. She was sitting here...* 
He looked up and around, spotting the tape sticking out of the 
machine. 
*...watching a movie.* 
Skinner approached the video player. 
*"My Life." Oh no...* 
He flinched. He'd almost cried himself at that damn movie. 
*Why would she watch this, especially now?!* 
Skinner shook his head and stood in the silent apartment for a few 
minutes, waiting for Scully to emerge and lost in his own thoughts. 
When she didn't appear, he went to her bedroom door and listened. 
Nothing. 
He knocked lightly. "Scully?" 
When there was no response, he opened the door. Scully was 
collapsed, lying on her back, body half in and half out of the 
bathroom. She was wrapped in a fluffy white robe and there was a 
dark splotch of blood on the collar. 
Skinner dashed forward and knelt beside her. 
"It won't stop...won't stop," she muttered, "I'm so tired." 
"I'm calling an ambulance," he told her and then pulled his phone 
from his pocket. 
"Don't tell Mulder," she begged, "Please." 
********************************************************************** 
****** 
Skinner was pacing the ER. Up near the soda machine and back past 
the reception desk. Up and back. Up and back. 
He felt like he was going to pop a blood vessel. 
His first instinct was to call Mulder. Mulder should know this is 
happening. Scully needed him. 
Skinner wasn't blind, he knew how his two favorite - and most 
frustrating - agents felt about one another. Even if the two of them 
wouldn't admit it to themselves or each other. 
*Why won't she tell him about this?* 
He sat heavily in one of the plastic chairs and mentally answered his 
own question. 
*She thinks he needs her to be strong. She's scared to be weak. I 
certainly know how that is; that's how I destroyed my marriage.* 
He snorted at the irony that he should be the one she ended up having 
to depend on. If anyone understood, he did. 
"Mr. Scully? Are you Mr. Scully?" A nurse was looking at him 
expectantly as 
he looked up at her. 
"Mr...? No, no, I'm Walter Skinner, her supervisor." 
"It says here that her husband brought her in. Do you know where he 
is?" 
His frown deepened, "No, she doesn't have a husband; I brought her 
in." 
The woman's eyebrow lifted, "Oh...I see. The admitting physician 
must have misunderstood." 
Skinner's eyebrow answered hers, "Obviously. I brought a file to her 
apartment and found her-" 
She held up her hand," Sir, you don't have to explain to me. And, 
please, don't bother; I've seen it all. You aren't shocking me." 
He stood quickly. "What the hell are you talking about?" 
The woman was writing as she answered nonchalantly, not looking 
up, "Sir, really. She was admitted in a bathrobe and nothing else. 
She wasn't looking over any files. Do you know who her regular 
physician is? It says here she is suffering from cancer? Do you know 
if she is undergoing any treatments at this time?" 
Skinner was livid. *How DARE this woman make such assumptions!* But 
he was also realizing that if the nurse was asking him such basic 
questions about Scully's medical history, that Scully must not be 
able to answer them. 
"It isn't what you're assuming," he said through gritted teeth, "Why 
are you asking ME these questions? Isn't she able to tell you these 
things?" 
When the woman lifted her eyes to him and took in his obvious 
distress, her eyes softened. 
"I'll say one thing for you; you stuck around. They usually don't 
stay." 
"What?" 
"On this shift, you'd be surprised what I see. A lot of times if we 
get couples in here involved in...extracurricular activities..the one 
that's not hurt is outta here as fast as possible. Wouldn't want 
anyone else to find out, you see." 
Skinner felt a headache coming on. "I don't owe you an explanation, 
but I am NOT having an affair with Agent Scully." 
"Agent?" she said, paying full attention now. 
"We work for the F.B.I.," he said curtly, "Now you were saying?" 
"Oh," she said, looking back down at her clipboard and switching back 
to her semi-professional persona, "she's in and out, so we thought 
since we had the husband out here - according to the paperwork - we'd 
just ask you. But since you apparently can't help us with any of 
this, we'll have to see if we can get it from her." 
"How is she?" 
"Well, it seems that Ms. Scully is suffering from dehydration, 
anemia, and exhaustion. We gave her a B12 shot and she'll need to 
stay overnight and get hydrated. Let her get a good night's sleep 
and then, once the doctor gets her file from her doctor and makes 
sure we're not overlooking anything, she'll be released." 
Skinner sighed loudly and ran a hand over his head in relief. 
"Can I see her?" 
The nurse's mouth quirked a smile. 
*I really do like this one. She may be sleeping her way to the top, 
but at least she knows how to pick 'em.* 
"Sure. Come with me." 
********************************************************************** 
***** 
Scully was lying in the hospital bed, her eyes closed, I.V. tubing 
connecting her to the saline bagged and hanging on a metal stand. 
She opened her eyes when she heard footsteps approaching. The steps 
paused at the doorway. 
"Sir," she said evenly, "come on in." 
Skinner came into the room and stepped hesitantly to the edge of the 
bed. 
"How do you feel?" 
Scully smiled weakly. "Better. I just...let myself get a little run- 
down, that's all." 
He took a deep breath. He had to try. 
"You're going to have to tell Mulder-" he began. 
The reaction was immediate. 
"No! No sir, I can't! You don't understand; he won't react like 
this," she gestured to him, "It'll eat him up inside. He already 
blames himself for everything else-" 
He held up his hand and she fell silent. 
"That's what I thought. But I'm assigning two OTHER agents to the 
Chicago case and that's final." 
She began to protest, "But, sir, Mulder could still go and I could 
catch up with him-" 
"And what reason am I supposed to give Agent Mulder that his partner 
couldn't join him on a case?" 
"You could tell him I was needed for autopsies, paperwork-" 
"NO!" Skinner's voice boomed with emotion, "I won't lie to him about 
this. I'll keep quiet, but don't ask me to lie to him about the 
person he cares for most in this world, because I won't do it." 
Scully didn't know how to respond to that, so she said nothing. She 
merely met his determined gaze with one of her own. 
"Alright, fair enough," she finally said. 
********************************************************************** 
****** 
~~~Saturday~~~ 
Scully entered her dim apartment and slammed the door behind her. 
Skinner had shown up out of the blue and given her a ride home, but 
she wouldn't let him escort her up to her apartment and get her 
settled back in. 
And he was mad, furious at her. She could tell. He thought she 
should tell Mulder. 
But she couldn't do it. She couldn't tell him and watch his deep 
hazel eyes take on another iota of guilt. She didn't want to be like 
everything else in his life - another cause. 
*I love him. He deserves more than this.* 
Plus, if she had been honest with herself, she didn't want Mulder to 
see her like this. Weak. Needy. 
If she played her cards right, he would remember her strong and 
independent. The way she wanted to be perceived. 
It was bad enough her mother, and now Skinner, knew better. 
Her mother. She'd had the sense to stay away when asked, but still 
Scully noticed her freshly cleaned apartment. No blood on the couch 
or floor. 
She was sure she'd find food in the freezer. Pre-cooked and frozen 
for her convenience. 
As she walked further into her apartment, Scully was surprised to see 
a note lying on her coffee table. 
She sat and opened it. 
"Dana, 
I cleaned up the place a bit. There's stew in the 
refrigerator and in the freezer for later. Sweetheart, why would you 
rent this movie? Don't do this to yourself. Call me later. 
I love you, 
Mom" 

Beside the spot where the note had lay, was "My Life." 
Scully picked it up and stared at the tape, deep in thought, as she 
dropped the note and continued into the kitchen. 
********************************************************************** 
****** 
Late that night, she took finally took the next step in a plan she'd 
been formulating since the first time she'd seen the movie. 
Setting up the video equipment she'd rented on Friday, she set on the 
couch and used the remote to activate the camera. 
Scully took a deep breath and put on a smile. 
"Hi Mulder. I wish I could have been there to see your reaction when 
you were told that I had left behind a videotape for you. For a 
brief moment, didn't you wonder - What KIND of video did she make for 
me?" 
Scully leered playfully, laughed and continued. 
"Its alright to laugh, Mulder, to be happy. I know I am. If the 
cancer got me before one of our cases did, then I know I was ready to 
go. If something else happened," she shrugged, "then it was meant to 
be and you can't go through the rest of your life beating yourself up 
about it." 
At this point, she leaned forward and looked determinedly into the 
lens, hoping Mulder would be able to feel her insistance when he 
watched the tape. 
"I mean it, Mulder, let this ruin your life and I'll haunt your ass." 
She leaned back into the couch. There was a certain freedom in 
talking to Mulder this way. In knowing that she could be totally 
honest with him without reprecussions. 
"I mainly made this because I want to get a few things clear between 
us. Things that were too complicated to address when I was alive." 
She took a deep breath and then looked directly into the lens again. 
"I know you love me, Mulder, and you know I love you. We just never 
say it, do we? And, that's alright...I guess. Sometimes I wish we 
would say it out loud, but I know that things are...complicated. We 
don't want to risk what we have. We both know what's between us is 
more than most MARRIED couples have. A closeness. A mutual 
respect. Love," she smiled, "And I like you, Mulder. That's 
important too, you know. You're my best friend, not only the man I 
love." 
She stared off, lost in thought. 
"You make me laugh. You see through all the crap I put up to stop 
people from getting too close. You challenge me. And, you made my 
life more interesting to live. 
And, I would like to say it out loud once...." 
Scully looked tearfully into the lens. 
"I love you, Mulder." 
********************************************************************** 
* 
She paused the tape and got up to get a glass of water and catch her 
breath before she continued the tape. 
Refreshed, she sat on the couch and continued her message to her 
partner. 
"Ok, Mulder, here's the hardest part of this message," she paused and 
stifled her impulse to cry. 
"You and I both know," she said softly, "that as long as we had each 
other there wasn't going to be anyone else. Not for you and not for 
me. We had that committment even if it was never voiced." 
She swallowed. 
"My last request of you, Mulder - and this means a lot to me - is I 
want you to find someone to love. I mean it, Mulder," she gave the 
camera her 'Don't argue with me' look, knowing that he would 
protest, "I'm not being a martyr here, you NEED someone to love and 
take care of you." 
"Don't you DARE go back to being a loner. Find someone who'll love 
you for who you are because you are worth loving, Mulder." 
There was silence as Scully shifted uncomfortably on the couch. She 
hadn't planned this out and wasn't sure how to end it. 
"Well, that's all I wanted to say, Mulder. Tell The Gunmen...tell 
them how much they meant to me too, would you?" She smiled. 
"I'm not scared, Mulder...well, not much. Just.. go on, o.k? It'll 
get better; I promise. And, maybe I'll be able to look on every now 
and then. I'm not sure how that works, all I have is faith that 
death is not the end." 
She decided not to say goodbye, as was their custom. 
"I love you, Mulder," she said one last time and then stopped the 
tape. 
Then Scully collapsed on the couch and cried her eyes out. 
********************************************************************** 
***** 
~~~Sunday~~~ 
Scully awoke to the phone ringing. She pushed herself up from the 
soft cushions and squinted at the VCR clock. 
1:34 a.m. 
She reached out and picked up the the phone. 
"Scully," she rasped, her throat dry. 
"Hey, Scully. Are - are you alright?" 
*Mulder* 
She sighed. Of course it was Mulder. Who else would call her after 
one in the morning, wake her up and ask her if she was alright? 
"I'm fine, Mulder; you just woke me up, that's all. Is something 
wrong?" 
Silence. She could hear him breathing, but he wasn't answering. 
She swallowed and the roughness in her throat lessened. 
"Mulder? Are YOU o.k.?" 
"I-I had this strange dream, Scully. You were calling out to me, but 
I couldn't find you. You needed me, but I couldn't find you." 
She could hear the desperation in his voice. 
"I couldn't find you, Scully," he repeated in a harsh whisper as 
though he were fighting off tears. 
Scully closed her eyes. This was what she was scared of more than 
anything. What would happen to him when she was gone? 
He would think he had failed her. Failed to protect her. 
"Mulder, it was only a dream. I'm right here. Nothing's wrong." 
Her voice was soft and soothing. 
"Maybe I should come over. Sleep on your couch. This could be an 
omen, Scully. Some sort of sign-" 
"No, Mulder, you are not coming over to stakeout the boogey-man on my 
couch. It was a nightmare." 
A pause. She could hear his breathing evening out on the line. He 
was slowly coming to his senses as she reassured him. 
"Where were you last night?" he said suddenly. 
She flinched. Scully hated lying outright to Mulder, so she...fudged 
a bit. 
"With a friend," she said casually, "You?" 
"Me? I didn't go anywh-Oh, wait, I did spend a couple of hours over 
at the guy's place. Frohike bought a new movie." 
She could hear the grin in his voice and it made her smile. 
*That's more like it* 
"A movie that Frohike bought? I don't want to know," she countered. 
"Hey! It was the new 'Planet of the Apes,' Scully. Get your mind out 
of the gutter," he teased, "Who was the friend? She someone I know?" 
*Oh, very smooth Mulder. Way to casually find out if I was on a date.* 
" 'He' is just a friend of mine; it wasn't a date if that's what you 
are getting at, Mulder." 
"Oh," he sounded embarrassed. 
An awkward silence fell between the two of them. 
"Well," Mulder said, "I'll let you go back to sleep. I-I just wanted 
to check on you," he paused, "It was really a creepy nightmare, 
Scully." 
"No problem, Mulder. I'm alright, but thanks for checking." 
"Goodnight then, Scully." 
"Goodnight, Mulder." 
She hung up. 
Scully rose from the couch and collected her taped message to 
Mulder. She labeled it and then put it in the locked box in her desk 
as she had detailed in her will. 
*One message down* 
She went to bed. 
********************************************************************** 
***** 
After getting ready for the day and a breakfast of a bowl of cereal 
with chopped banana on top, Scully unwrapped another blank tape and 
got ready to record her other messages. 
To Skinner. Her mother. Her family in general. 
She found, to her surprise, that these messages were relatively short 
and easy to say. 
Scully spoke of respect. Of friendship. Of familial love. She was 
sure to share one humorous memory on each tape. 
She hoped her recollection of the kiss on the elevator would make 
Skinner blush and smile. He didn't do enough of that. She was sorry 
she wouldn't be there to see it. 
By the end of the day, she had a stack of labeled videotapes locked 
in a box in her desk. 
Her final preparations were almost complete. 
Scully hoped to finish everything before she was forced to admit 
herself into the hospital full-time. 
*Maybe I could get hospice care at the end? Die on my own terms, in 
my own home?* 
She added 'inquire about Hospice care' on her 'To Do' list. 
There were things to be done. 
********************************************************************** 
**** 
Oh, this threatened to go in one hundred different directions, but I 
left it here because uncertainty of what is to come, I'm sure, is a 
part of a battle with cancer. 
Title is from John Keats "Ode on Melancholy." Here's the stanza.. 
"She dwells with Beauty -- Beauty that must die; 
And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips 
Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh, 
Turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips: 
Ay, in the very temple of Delight 
Veil'd Melancholy has her sovran shrine, 
Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue 
Can burst Joy's grape against his palate fine; 
His soul shall taste the sadness of her might, 
And be among her cloudy trophies hung." 
Hey, a knowledge of the classics is good for something after all!