Disclaimer: They are not mine and neither is the song. "The Final Move" by Chris Rice, the most brilliant lyricist ever. I mean, "Smell the Color Nine" is basically... amazing.

Spoilers: Up for grabs

A/N: at the end

The worst day of his life started out warm and sunny. The window was open and he woke to the sound of birds singing outside. There was a slight breeze that ruffled his hair, cooled and calmed the stresses that plagued him from the moment he opened his eyes. He turned his head slightly and found denim blue eyes staring back at him.

"Good morning."

She smiled just a little and he reached over to touch her cheek.

"I want to go outside," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Now?"

"Yes."

"It's barely six o'clock."

"I want to go outside, Mulder."

He nodded and sat up gathering a few blankets for her. All the weight she had lost left her in a constant state of frigidness. He lifted her from the bed and settled her into the wheelchair, tucking the blankets around her tightly, making sure her feet and hands were covered. They wheeled out of the hospital room and headed for the elevator, Mulder going a little faster than he probably should have. It made Scully laugh, and that was worth it.

They rode the elevator down in silence, only exchanging a glance when the elevator stopped in the lobby. He wheeled her slowly outside, to the courtyard with the cherry blossoms. He stopped her chair next to a bench, then sat down himself. Scully reached for his hand, and all at once, he understood the urgency, the need to get outside. Their eyes met, but they didn't say anything. It was understood, and comfortable. She tugged his hand just a little, and he leaned over, pulling her out of the chair and into his lap.

"I'm scared, Mulder."

"Me too."

"Will you be okay?" she asked as her eyelids fluttered.

"It's okay to go, Scully," he said, avoiding her question. He wouldn't be okay, but she didn't need to know that now.

"I don't want to miss you."

He brushed the tear from her cheek, then moved his hand to take care of his own.

"Don't worry, Scully. You can go. It's okay."

He laced their fingers together and kissed her forehead as she took a deep breath.

"There's so much I haven't said."

"That's okay. I know already."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

The chirping of the birds seemed infinitely louder as he strained to hear her final breath.

He had been laying on his couch for three days, still in his black suit. He wanted to take it off, burn it, forget the entire thing, but he just couldn't. This is what he had been wearing the last time he saw her, before they lowered her into the ground next to her sister. He hated this suit, yet he couldn't part with it.

He could hear her voice in his head, chastising him for being so silly. She would be grinning just a little, one hand on her hip, her head tipped just slightly to the side. A strand of hair would be falling in her eyes, and he would reach over to tuck it behind her ear. She would blush a little, then pull away, acting like the gratuitous tactile moment had never occurred. His mind was full of memories like that, but it would be a long time before they would bring him comfort instead of a searing pain.

His eyes drifted to the coffee table and landed on a white envelope. It contained Scully's last letter to him. Maggie had silently handed it to him after the memorial service, clutching his hands tightly, and managing a smile though her watery eyes. He hated remembering Maggie hurt. He hated all this hurt, and he wanted it to go away.

His throat was raw from the tears, the crying out of Scully's name, his professions of love that would never be heard. It felt useless. It was like running in order to catch your breath. Full of pain and frustration, and ending with less than you started out with.

He was ready to just give up. Just lay here until death took him too, a sweet rushing wind that would reunite him with Scully. Reunite him with his Life. He knew that these thoughts were borne out of grief, but he couldn't stop them. He wanted her back more than anything. Just one more moment to hold her. Just a small glimpse of her face, a tiny intake of her fragrance, a fraction of the sound of her laughter. That was all he was asking. He needed her.

He eyed the envelope again, wondering what Scully could possibly have written to him. He didn't think there was anything she could have put on paper that would help him now, but just seeing her handwriting might be enough to take the edge off. He reached over and grabbed the letter, being careful when he opened it.

The familiar loop of her letters was almost enough to send him into sobs, but he managed to hold it in so he could read.

Dear Mulder,

I don't know exactly how to do this or what to say, but I feel like I need to leave you with something. I would do anything for a final letter from my dad or Melissa, and I know you know how that feels. I know there is going to be a lot left unsaid, and I want to get all of it out so you can have your closure and heal.

I love you. I never thought I would say that simply because it is not something we say to each other. I don't know how I love you, but I can sure tell you why. You make me happy. Even on the most horrible days when everything goes wrong and I just want to give up, you're there with a joke or a smile and it makes me feel better. Maybe it doesn't change everything, but it lets me know that you care.

Do you remember when I came home from the hospital a few months ago? I said I was going to fight, and I sounded tough, but I was scared out of my mind. I remember when we walked into my apartment, and there were bouquets of flowers everywhere. They were all from you. I still have the cards that came with them. I remember a horrible feeling in my stomach and I started to cry. You didn't ask what was wrong, you just hugged me until I was quiet again. You took me into my room and tucked me in and then lay down with me until I fell asleep. I slept better than I thought I was going to. No nightmares.

If you're reading this, it's because you've just returned from my funeral. There is so much I want to say to you, but I feel it would be so final, and I still can't accept that yet. I owe you so much. Much more than you know. You've saved my life more than a dozen times. You've challenged me. Not only that, but you have made me realize that there are still good people in the world. I admire you. I respect you. And I am proud of you. I know those words mean a lot to you, and I want you to know that I say them with the utmost seriousness. I am proud to call you my partner and best friend.

I love you, Mulder. I want you to continue to do your job, but take care of yourself. Don't spend your whole life thinking of revenge, or placing blame on yourself. Be good, Mulder. Play by the book for a while to relieve some stress. Take time off, go and visit Australia like you've always wanted to. Don't let them win. Don't let what happens plague you forever. Grieve, and then come out fighting. Be the man I know you are and continue to do what you always do. Don't let me die in vain, and don't lose yourself in the process. I am scared for you, scared that you will give in to the hatred because it's easier. Don't. That is all I ask of you. Keep making me proud, Mulder. Keep fighting. Don't ever give up. Ever.

I wish we had more time. I regret the fact that we took for granted what we did have. But at the same time, I still wouldn't change it. You've been everything to me. You've kept me going, made me strong. There is nothing that could ever replace that.

I'm not leaving you forever, Mulder. I know you know that. I'm going to miss you. It breaks my heart to think of not being around to work with you. But you're always going to be a part of me, no matter what. You're my best friend, and I love you more than anyone else on earth.

Dana

P.S. Remember the time we were in Skinner's car and you waited until he wasn't looking, and wrote "Help he stinks" on the frost on the window? Despite the tears as I am writing this, that memory makes me shake with laughter. That is what you and I have, Mulder. Don't ever let that leave you.

He read the letter through a few times before letting himself cry. His entire body ached for her, and yet he could feel a small presence of peace. He had to fight this battle. He had to win. He had to make sure that what happened was not meaningless. He had to make her suffering worth something. He had to justify his own pain. He would never let her down. Not Scully. Not his Life. Someday, somehow, maybe fate would bring them together again. But for now, for this moment, Love had the final move.

Paradise has up and flown away for now

But hope still breathes and truth is always true

And just when you think it's almost over

Love has the final move.

A/N: Had to do it. I know it doesn't have closure or resolve or any of that. I hope I did the song justice. I hope I did the characters justice, and I hope I did my readers justice too.