Disclaimer:  Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, the X-Files, and associated
characters are property of David Duchovny, Gillian Anderson, Chris Carter,
Ten-Thirteen Productions and Fox Broadcasting Corporation.  They are used
without permission and no copyright infringement is meant.

Any elements not recognized as being taken from the show copyright
Christina Shuy. 

Comments and other things sent to cshuy@netcom.com are much appreciated. 

Rating: PG, hints of MSR, but it is non-shipper safe.
Spoilers:  vague references to Demons, Gethsemane (natch!)
Summary:  What *really* happened to Mulder, and who the body was in his 
apartment.

Note:  this story was borne out of what happened at the start of 
"Gethsemane" when Scully seemed to *expect* Mulder's death, therefore... 

Committing Pseudo-cide.
by Christina Shuy
cshuy@netcom.com

	"Hello?" Scully's voice was half muffled by sleep.
	"Scully, it's me.  I'm sorry for waking you up, but I'm going to
need your help on something." Mulder's voice sounded strained, as though 
he'd been crying.
	"Mulder, what is it?"
	"I am going to disappear for a while."
	"What do you mean?"
	"Just that.  I need to think... and need to get out of here for a 
while.  I'm wondering if you could help me at all.  If not, I'll do it 
anyway,  but I'd much rather have your help."
	"Of course, Mulder, what is it?"
	"I'm thinking aobut disappearing for a while, and thinking about 
faking my death to do it."
	"Mulder... that seems a bit drastic, don't you think?"
	"Well, they've said that I was created... manipulated... hell, 
even *you* believe that everything that my life has been based on is a 
lie... so why should you even care whether I live or die?"
	"Mulder!  I never said I didn't care.  I DO care.  I just don't 
want you to go to any sort of extremes just to suit anyone else."
	"It's either that or kill myself."
	"Mulder, I don't want you to die.  But can't you see that by 
doing anything like this, you're giving in to those people who want to 
destroy you anyway?"
	"Not that it matters.  You're still going to testify in front of 
that damn committee, and have the X-Files shut down... it's what you've 
wanted all along.  You're doubting me.  Even *I* am doubting me."
	"That's not true, Mulder.  I'm not doubting you.  What I am 
doubting is the wisdom in the course you're taking.  Everyone surrounding 
this has been killed."
	"That's all the more reason I think this is the truth!  Why can't 
you believe me?  What happened to your having faith in my beliefs?"
	"Mulder, I have cancer.  It has metastisized.  I'm dying.  Faster 
now than before."
	Mulder felt a cold fist around his heart.  He felt sick.  She was
dying.  This was HIS fault.  They were doing this to HER to get to HIM.  
She'd said as much.
	"Why haven't you told me this before?"
	"Mulder, I'm telling you *now*.  Besides, it's not as though you'll
give up your pursuit, no matter how I may feel."
	"I don't know... my sister is still gone..."
	"All the more reason you should keep looking.  You've promised 
yourself ever since she disappeared that you would find her."
	"Yeah, so?"  The doubt in his voice hurt Scully deeply.  She 
tried a different tactic.
	"Besides, the X-Files are not just about UFOs and alien life. 
Mulder, the cases we've been on outside of that... Cecil L'Ively, that
damn ship where we aged rapidly in Norway, even Robert Patrick Modell! 
None of *those* cases even involved EBEs  You could still look for 
Samantha while solving more unexplainable phenomenon!"
	"I have to think, okay?  I don't know what to believe anymore.  
The memories from that treatment I got... I'm doubting WHO I am... and 
now with this, I'm doubting WHAT I do... can't you see this is killing 
*me* just like the cancer those bastards gave you is killing YOU?"  
Mulder had started crying again.
	Scully sighed.  Her heart was breaking.
	"Alright, Mulder, what do you want me to do?"
	"Do you have some place I can hide out and not be disturbed for a 
while?" 

	Mulder was packing up when there was a knock on the door.
	"Kritchcow, what are you doing here again?  Here to tear even MORE 
of my guts out?"
	Kritchcow walked in before he said anything.  When Mulder closed 
and secured the door behind him, he pulled a gun.
	"So... in order to perpetuate the lie, you're going to kill *me*, 
is that it?"
	Kritchcow didn't answer.  Instead, he lept at Mulder.  Bad move.  
At the same time he did, Mulder'd drawn his gun and Kritchcow 
inadvertently pushed Mulder's triggerfinger and the gun went off, bullet 
lodging into Kritchcow's brain.  He fell to the floor dead, the blood 
trickling out of the wound, landing between the couch and the table.
	"Oh, shit!" the explitive escaped Mulder's lips as soon as he 
realised exactly what had happened.  Quickly, he drew out his celphone, 
dialling Scully's cellular phone number.
	"Scully."
	"It's me, Scully... Something just happened here at my 
apartment.  It's a long story, needless to say the landlord isn't going 
to be too happy with me... this is the second dead body in my apartment 
this year."
	"Mulder, what happened?"  Scully's tone instantly lowered.
	"Like I said, it's a long story.  Do me a favour, though, and 
when the police call you to identify the body, tell them it's me.  I'm 
going underground for a while until I can sort out my mind and my soul.  
Besides, you need to take care of yourself and that damned tumour of 
yours.  You'd be safer here.  Have fun with the committee."

	"Mulder-"  But it was too late.  The connection was broken.
	Sighing, Scully flopped back onto her back.
	"Damnit, Mulder, I hope you're careful." she murmured, allowing 
her eyes to drift shut again.
	By the time the phone rang, half an hour later, she'd already 
been dozing off for twenty minutes.  Steeling herself for the day, she 
got on with what she had to do.

-to be continued... NEXT SEASON!-