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Mulder grabbed Scully’s frantically, seeking reassurance that his rock was still steady in her own right, even as he felt the ground beneath him giving way.

She was leaving. The tremor in his heart triggered his own personal earthquake. Her wet eyes sparked the minutest flint of hope and he lowered his face to hers, slowly, slowly until he practically tasted the gravitational pull between them.

She flinched, ‘Ow!’.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered, because he was and always would be.