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It had been a two days since they had left their partnership hanging on an awkward note. Both too afraid of letting the other see what thoughts and feelings lurk beneath the surface. Neither having the courage to face the truth about how they feel. Mulder knew Scully hadn’t been herself since the Leonard Bets case. The look on her face when they left the hospital, after she had been attacked, had a level of sadness he wasn’t expecting — more anguish than he expected after being attacked by a suspect. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he also couldn’t bring himself to ask her what was truly troubling her. Their recent argument in the office seemed to be about more than a desk. He could have sworn he saw that same look from the hospital on her face in the office. Instead of trying to get to the bottom of Scully’s recent funk, he did his best to act normal, afraid that if he pried, she would pull the curtains to the backstage of her heart even tighter. He quietly watched her suffer, secretly hoping that she would eventually tell him what had been on her mind. Unfortunately, the opposite had happened; she recklessly put herself in danger rather than talking through what was tormenting her.
Mulder spent the past two nights mentally incapable of focusing on anything other than his last genuine interaction with Scully, before complete avoidance of anything real became their modus opporoindi. He found himself recounting the events over and over and over again. The look on her face as she ran the wilted rose petal through her fingers. The sadness in her voice. Her declaration of her life being hers felt like a knife to his heart every time he replayed it in his head. While her guarded behavior wounded him to his core, it didn’t give him license to be cruel. His fear of losing her coming out as a disgusting display of narcissism and nonchalance. He was down right vicious and he hated himself for it.
Seeing Scully seemingly more withdrawn every day since felt like absolute torture — he added to that pain. It was always worse at night, when he didn’t have other distractions to keep his mind from spiraling down a deep, dark well he had no hope of escaping. He felt like he was drowning and didn’t care if he ever came up from the abyss.
"But it’s my..." ' Why couldn’t I finish my thought, ' he quietly scolded, 'How could she not know that I’m beside her in everything — that no matter what her fight was, it was my fight too? How could she not know that I would fight along side her no matter the what? No matter the cost? How could she not know just how much I love her?'
His life had become so desperately intertwined with hers, he couldn’t imagine a world without her in it. She was the lighthouse that always guided him safely to shore and he felt as though he was vandalizing her to the point she would never shine through the darkness again.
'You're pathetic' he thought to himself. 'You're become so dependent on another that you're no longer a whole person on your own. You're codependent. You're useless. Scully deserves so much better than a narcissist like you. You're incapable of making your feelings known and instead of telling the person you love how you truly feel about them, you make inappropriate commentary about their lives all while making it about yourself. You expect honesty and truth, but you can't seem to reciprocate.'
While Mulder considered his work important, he knew, deep down, that he would trade all of it, everything, including his own life, just to keep her safe from harm. 'For someone who values "The Truth" you sure have an odd way of showing it to those you care about most...'
Before Mulder could continue admonishing himself, he heard a soft knock at the door. Startled, he slowly made his way to the door. When he opened the door, he was surprised to see a bare-faced Scully who looked as though she had only just stopped crying.
"Scully, it's 1 a.m. ... is everything okay?" His voice filled with genuine concern and worry.
Before he could catch himself, he reached out to cup her cheek and run his thumb sweetly across her cheek bone. Mulder felt Scully lean into his touch, then tense with an even more melancholic expression than before.
"Yeah... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come... I'll see you later," slowly turning to walk down the hall.
Mulder gently grabbed her right wrist. His eyes looked longingly at her. "Don’t go" came tumbling out of his mouth in a small, hurt voice. The look on Scully’s face was unreadable but she didn’t protest. Mulder slowly pulled her into his apartment, gently closing the door behind her. With a small tug, Mulder guided Scully towards him. His arms snaked around her waist and Scully rose up onto her tip toes to more easily wrap her arms around Mulder’s neck. She felt his face in the crook of her neck.
"I'm sorry, Scully. I didn’t mean to…" Scully pulled back briefly and placed her fingers on his mouth, quieting him almost immediately.
"I’m sorry, too " she quietly responded on the verge of tears.
He took her hand in his, gently running his lips along her fingers while keeping the other draped around her waist. He whispered his confession, almost like a prayer, "Dana, I didn’t mean to make you feel insignificant. Your life is my life too because I’m with you in all things… Your fight is my fight too… Anything to make you see that you never have to fight the darkness alone, I'll do it... Anything..." He stared into her eyes for a brief moment before pulling her back into a warm embrace. He planted a few small kisses on her neck, burying his face deeper and deeper into her.
Mulder felt Scully cling tighter to him. He couldn't say for certain, but he was sure she was softly crying. His heart broke a little more. Mulder just wanted to hold her and make the hurt she was clearly feeling melt away.
After several minutes, Scully pulled away. She grabbed Mulder’s hand, leading them both into the living room. She sat down on the couch, pulling him down with her. She turned in her seat and began to spread out unfolded the Navajo blanket Mulder always kept on the couch. Mulder tried to get up to give her space, but her hand reached out to him.
“Will you hold me?”
Without another word, Mulder gave a slight nod and moved to lay out on his side. Scully briefly stood up, allowing him up being his legs up, before positioning herself up next him so her back was tightly pressed to his chest, bringing the blanket over them in the process. Mulder pulled her close. Within a few minutes, he could feel Scully’s breathing even out and her body relax. She was fast asleep, nestled into him, her body perfectly cocooned by his own. Mulder felt a small smile forming on his face. He whispered, “I love you…” into the dark void as he felt himself drift off to sleep.
When Mulder woke several hours later, he was alone. At first, he thought last night had been a very vivid dream, but the smell of Scully's perfume radiating around him was too strong to be a figment of his imagination. Out of the corner of his eye, Mulder noticed a small note left on his coffee table.
Mulder -
Had to leave early for a doctor's appointment. I’ll call later.
- D
'So it wasn't a dream', Mulder smiled to himself. He felt a slight blush forming on his face.
He was pulled from his reverie by the sound of his phone ringing. Jumping from the couch, Mulder answered, hoping it would be Scully.
"Mulder."
"Mulder, it's me. I need you to come down to Holy Cross Memorial Hospital," Scully's voice was filled with concern, “…and I need you keep this between us…”
Scully's voice was a splash of cold water. In no reality could this be good news. His heart sank. "I'm on my way."
As Mulder quickly put himself together, he mentally mapped out a route to the hospital that would include a flower shop along the way.