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greekowl87 · 4 years

Note

Can you write something about Mulder and Scully that includes some lyrics from Garth Brooks "She's Every Woman" or "To Make You Feel My Love" for Season 6 or 7? Or even use the lyrics to create a storyline? . Thanks so much. Love, *Lyrics Anon

A/N: So this is overdue, anon. I had to sit on it for a hot minute. I ended up picking Garth Brooks “She’s Every Woman” set to the tune of “Rain King.” I hope you enjoy. I tried to include a bit of everything: fluff, angst, and some smut. And thanks for @gaycrouton for taking time to beta this. I really appreciate it :)

P.S. This is a tad long. Tagging @today-in-fic @suitablyaggrieved @baronessblixen @improlificinsarcasm

It wasn’t the first time that Mulder and Scully had shared a motel room or bed. There had been a few times over the years. It was usually because of podunk towns and cities having little or no accommodation. This was probably the first time they had to share a room because a cow had fallen into Mulder’s own room, almost crushing him to death.

From the corner of her room, well their room, Scully watched Mulder stare thoughtfully at his bags. “Oh for God’s sake, Mulder,” she rolled her eyes. “Just put your stuff in the dresser next to mine.”

“I didn’t want to intrude, Scully.” He looked over his shoulder and smirked slightly. “I can sleep on the floor.”

“You’ll do no such thing. The bed is big enough for both of us.”

Mulder smiled slightly. Things had been...okay between them lately. Diana was a topic not brought up. They had their office back. Their relationship, beyond work, was also something they decided not to go deeper into as well. Things were good and they had an unspoken agreement to leave it alone.

“I didn’t want to imply,” he said after a moment.

“There’s nothing to imply.” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Mulder, I don’t need any more to add to this headache that I already have. Shelia controlling the weather? I don’t even know where to begin.”

“It’s not Shelia. It’s Holman.”

“It’s not Holman. No one is controlling the weather.”

Mulder bent over to open his bag and transfer his clothes to the dresser. She watched him wince slightly as the fabric brushed against his fresh stitches. Scully sighed and came next to him.

“You need to recover, Mulder so that it doesn’t get infected.” She bent over to help him with his clothes. “You know, we don’t have to do this.”

“What? Talk?”

“No. We leave tomorrow. You don’t need to waste your energy. Why, what were you talking about?”

“Nothing.”

They shared an uneasy gaze before Scully turned abruptly and went to the bathroom. She grabbed her navy blue pajamas and shut the bathroom door behind her. Mulder sighed at another lost opportunity. He didn’t know what was worse...his love life or Holman Hart’s. He sat at the edge of the bed and flipped on the television as the shower turned on the other side of the bathroom door. Mulder cringed inwardly as a commercial for a local tractor store came on. It began with Garth Brook’s tune, “She’s Every Woman.”

“She’s sun and rain, she’s fire and ice. A little crazy, but it’s nice,” the commercial sang showing a man riding a John Deer tractor. Mulder snorted at the likely copyright infringement of Garth Brook’s song. “And when she gets mad, you best leave her alone ‘cause she'll rage just like a river. Then she’ll beg you to forgive her. She’s every woman that I’ve ever known.” The montage changed to the man kicking the side of the tractor in frustration. A male voice came on. “Broken down tractor? Did she use to be reliable like your wife? Well, don’t let get you down. Come on down to Larry’s Tact and Tractors and pick out a new girl that will last you a lifetime!”

Mulder muted the television and put his face in his hands. Unconsciously, his hand slid under the collar of his shirt to touch the puckered bullet scar from Scully’s gun years before. She shot him with precision accuracy and held him with her gifted hands. He liked to think of the scar as the equivalent as Scully’s unspoken love...or friendship...or whatever it was they had. Trust a copyright infringement Garth Brooks song to hit him right where it hurt the most, almost describing Scully down to smallest detail, except she wasn’t like every woman that he’s known. She was something else.

The shower stopped and he snapped to attention, unmuting the show. The bathroom door opened, he changed the channel to the local PBS station and a nature documentary about octopi filled the screen. Scully stopped and looked at him with an arched eyebrow. “Really, Mulder?”

“What?”

“Octopus porn. Again?”

“What? Scully!”

She smirked and sat on the right side of the bed. Mulder automatically went to the left side of the queen bed. “So,” Mulder paused, “cased closed?”

“Case closed. Another x-file.”

“Done and done.”

“Yep.”

Scully leaned against the headboard, pursed her lips, and sighed. “Well, I’m going to bed, Mulder. Try not to keep the TV too loud?”

“Of course,” he said.

He watched her turn off her light and turn her back to him as he flicked useless through the television channels trying to find something to distract him. After a while, Scully’s breathing slowed and indicated she was asleep. At one point while he was still watching television, Scully turned in her sleep, facing him. He hitched his breath as her arm stretched out and she relaxed as her arm coiled around his waist.

Talk about awkward.

Scully sighed contently and relaxed. Mulder looked down, clearly unsure of what to do. He tried to disentangle her arm but she only held onto him tighter. Mulder turned off the television and carefully laid down beside her. Her arm clutched his waist tighter.

Okay, maybe this wasn’t as bad as it could be.

Due to his body adjustment, she groaned unhappily in her sleep and nestled her head against his shoulder instead. Blame their amazing unspoken communication, even in their sleep. Okay, he definitely was not complaining. He stroked her hair with a free hand. He wished things came easily between them...especially trying to profess the thing between them.

Mulder sighed and kissed her brow. “Love you, Scully,” he murmured. She snorted in her sleep before nuzzling his shoulder. “Close enough,” he smiled.

**********

Scully could not believe the predicament she was in. Trapped in nowhere Kansas by some man that could apparently control the weather. Trying to convince Shelia that she wasn’t in love with her partner (that was hers) but Holman Hart, the literal weatherman. When she tried to conjure up her own love advice for the distressed romantic, she found herself thinking Mulder instead.

Scully found herself thinking about her own advice as the lights sparked as Holman and Sheila kissed, ending the god-fearing storm. Mulder quietly came from behind, gently touched the small of her back, and smiled. “See,” he whispered. “I told you so.”

“A literal weatherman,” she said. She arched his eyebrow. “Literally.”

“Literally.”

Mulder laughed as the power came back on the “Over the Rainbow,” resumed. The DJ jumped on apologizing and called. “Sorry for the technical disruption, folks. To make up for it, here is something to hold your significant another closer. ‘She’s Every Woman,’ by country sensation Garth Brooks.”

The changing decks on the CD player could be heard as Mulder smiled. “We solved a case of true love, Scully. Know what’s funny? I heard this exact same song last night while you were getting ready for bed. It was on a tractor commercial.”

“A tractor commercial?”

“Yep.”

Those who attended Kroner High School joined together for the slow dance. To her utter surprise, Mulder held out his hand with the same goofy smile he had at the Cher concert. “Scully?”

“No.” She found herself laughing. “No, Mulder.”

“Come on. No one is here. Skinner can’t judge us. It’s one dance.”

As Garth Brooks crooned, “She’s so New York in L.A.”

“East coast and west coast,” he whispered into her ear as he folded her into his arms in a slow rhythm.

Garth Brooks sang over him. “And every town along the way, she’s every place I’ve never been. She’s making love on rainy nights.”

“We could with Holman’s help.”

She laughed despite herself. Every part of this was wrong but it felt so right so she just let herself go.

“She’s a stroll through Christmas lights and she’s everything I want to do again,” the song sang.

Scully felt her cheeks growing red as she pushed her face into Mulder’s shoulder and took a deep breath. All of this was wrong but it felt so right. The song blurred away as Mulder hugged her closer and bent his face into the crook of her neck, breathing deeply.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, knowing exactly what he meant. She pulled back slightly and caressed his temple. “We’re okay.”

The moment stilled. Have you ever head of time freezing? This was one of those moments where eternity pulled at you and just knew. Scully knew at that moment. At the same time, a quick flash went off. An older man smiled and took a picture from a Polaroid. “I don’t recognize you,” he proclaimed. He fanned the developing photo. “You graduated with us, right?”

“Right,” Mulder smiled easily. “Rob and Laura...Petrie...like the dish. We’re high school sweethearts.”

Scully smirked. Petrie, she mouthed.

“We transferred in the last semester. I was from back East, Laura is from the West Coast.”

The man smiled and shrugged. “Enjoy. I’m doing couples’ photos for two bucks apiece. Consider this a freebie.” He passed the Polaroid to Mulder and went in search of news customers.

Scully took the photo. “Jesus Christ, Mulder.” She laughed. “I can’t look at it. Missy would rip me a new one.”

“Why?” He took the photo. He and Scully are so...in love. Hey, maybe the camera really captures the truth and is worth a thousand words. “I think it looks great.”

“Come on.”

“No, I really think it! We look…”

“Like a couple.”

“Well, we’re dancing at someone’s high school reunion.”

At that reminder, Scully tried to pull away but Mulder wouldn’t let her. “Scully, a picture is worth a thousand words.”

She was stunned as Mulder kissed her. Her entire world shattered, everything ceased to be but both of them. The Polaris disappeared into his jacket’s pocket as he began to sway with her to some obscure tune, their lips never unlocking. Finally, Scully felt the need to breathe. She pulled back as Mulder smiled indulgently. She felt...indescribable. “You do know how to kiss,” she whispered over the music.

“Who said that?” He smirked.

“Shelia.”

“Well to be fair, her experience wasn’t completely representative of what I can do.”

“Really?” She teased.

“I was only waiting for you,” he whispered.

Her arms curled around his neck protectively, as if she was ready to fight anyone for her partner. He belonged to her. “Goddamn, Mulder,” she teased.

He smiled and kissed her again. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Holman and Shelia smiling. “Told you you had to try it sometime,” Holman shouted.

Mulder grinned like a fool and turned his back so he could kiss her more. “What do you say,” he whispered between breaths, “we get out of here?”

“Our room.”

The smile he gave her sent shivers up her spine. “Our room,” he agreed.

As they disappeared from their fake high school reunion, the air suddenly felt changed--charged like right before a thunderstorm. She didn’t think the air would still feel like this after the flood was over. Mulder grinned like an idiot. “Maybe it’s Holman.”

“Shut up.”

Mulder instinctively went to the driver’s side of the car, his hand fumbled with the door handle. “Still wet from the storm,” he said lamely.

“Excuses only got you so far, Mulder.”

Mulder stood and stared at her. Something in Scully’s voice had changed as well. He only saw a Scully he had imagined. It wasn’t Agent Scully, FBI agent, and medical doctor. Nor was it Dana, the mysterious woman he had always wondered about. No. It was Scully. His Scully. The Scully he fantasized about

She was laughing. The sudden humidity from the previous downpour became palpable. Fucking Holman. “Let’s get out of here, Scully.”

Mulder switched on the radio, trying to find something to distract from the silence. Scully switched the radio off and played with the hem of her jacket. The tension was palpable. She took his hand and threaded their fingers together.

“You know, for years,” she began lazily, “I didn’t think you understood the meaning of personal space.”

“What do you mean?”

She caressed his thigh invitingly. “Are you kidding me? All those years, Mulder...the hand on my back, the caressing of my hair…”

“Caressing?”

“Well, what else would you call it?”

“Fair enough.” He bit his lip and clenched his muscles. “He had dreamed of moments like this. “But it’s…”

“Let it go.” As Mulder drove, Scully leaned over the armrest and kissed the crook his neck enticingly. “Come on, Mulder. Can’t you drive faster?”

“I don’t want to go fast with you.” What were these words coming out of his mouth? “Sorry.”

“Why? I’m not. What do you want, Mulder?”

She was becoming a distraction with her caresses and stroking. “You.”

“Hm. At a loss for words?”

“For once, yeah.”

His foot stepped on the gas pedal in an attempt to get back faster.

As they drove the short distance back to their motel room, Scully felt a storm of her own growing inside of her. It had been so long that anyone’s ever looked at her or touched her in that way that gave her stomach butterflies. And the fact it is Mulder--she knew the stories going around the secretaries’ gossip vine. She also hated feeling like this but because it was Mulder, her equal, it was somehow...different. It felt more right. Mulder was her’s. For once in her life, she was at a loss of a logical explanation, scientific or otherwise.

Mulder pulled into the gravel parking lot of the Cool View Motorpool Motel, she was already jerking at the door handle and he nearly kicked down the driver’s side door. It had been too long. As Scully tried to unlock the door, Mulder’s own appetite was unleashed.

He was behind her. Nipping at her neck. Hands under her jacket and blouse. Her hands fumbled with the key, dropping it on the wooden floor. “Shit,” she mumbled.

Mulder could be distracting but dear God, his hands made is worse along with this new use of his mouth. As she bent over to retrieve the key, his hands grazed her ass. “Jesus,” he muttered.

“Mulder,” she scolded half-heartedly. She quickly scooped up the motel key, jammed it in the lock, and couldn’t quite unlock it. “Goddamn it.”

“That’s what she said,” he joked.

“Fuck off,” she groaned.

His hands had a mind of their own, already palming her breasts. “Mulder, door…”

“Sorry. I forgot. We’re boyfriend and girlfriend here even though we’re married, high school sweethearts.” His hands were on his hips. “Open that door up.”

Between their combined weight, the motel door swung open. Mulder caught her with an arm around her waist and she laughed. Real laughter. Real happiness. She turned and grabbed the lapels of his coat. “Lock that door, Agent Mulder.”

He didn’t need to be told twice as he locked the door soundly. “So, Agent Scully, how do we do this?”

Scully licked her lips thoughtfully. Suddenly, every thought and fantasy filtered through her head. “You know, I had fantasies about this.”

Gauntlet is thrown down.

“So did I, Scully.”

“Tell me yours.”

“You start. Ladies, first.”

She breathed deeply. “Well,” she began, taking off her coat. “It always begins with the fact we have to share a bed. I imagine...something like this. Maybe a bit more x-file-ish.”

“X-file-ish?”

He removed his own jacket and put it with hers. “Sort of,” she replied. Scully turned her back to him and he went to her like a moth to a flame.

“Scully, don’t you feel these clothes are rather restricting?”

“Perhaps.”

She clumsily turned the radio alarm on to distract both of them from the growing tension. Mulder laughed as Garth Brooks came on, singing the song that had plagued his entire trip to Kansas. Garth Brooks sang, “She’s anything but typical. She’s so unpredictable.”

Mulder grabbed her arm and gently unbuttoned her blouse.

“Oh but even at her worse, she ain’t that bad,” the radio continued.

Mulder kissed her lips. “You’re perfect.”

Scully lifted her arms in an attempt to help him remove her blouse and bra.

He caressed her as if in a dream.

Garth Brooks continued over the radio alarm clock: “She’s as real as real can be and she’s every fantasy. Lord, she's every lover that I've ever had and every lover that I’ve never had.” The song ended as Mulder kissed her again.

“I’ve heard this song at least twice in the past 24 hours.” Mulder bit his lip trying to undo the hooks of her bra. “Goddamnit. I’m sorry. It’s been so long.”

“It’s okay.” She smiled.

Her deft hands helped him with the unruly hooks. “You know I’ve dreamed of this, Scully? Underneath those suits, everything.” He kissed her again, unconsciously pushing against her. “Sorry.”

She continued to smile and show him a side he never imagined. The bra dropped effortlessly and she lifted her arms behind her head momentarily.

“Scully.”

“What?”

“You’re making it worse.”

She laughed like a siren. Mulder lost all will to keep himself restrained as he crushed her lips again. Her hands, like a ghost, undid the buttons of his dress shirt effortlessly and peeled it off. She tore the white undershirt from underneath it. They took a moment to relish it. “This is ironic,” he whispered to her.

“In what way, Agent Mulder?” He wanted to touch her; he wanted to do so much to her. He licked his lips and, with a shaking hand, gently palmed her perfect breast. She entwined her hand with his and brought it to her lips. She kissed her fingertips. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

“Still trying to play doctor?”

She laughed. “Do you want to try for once?”

His eyes lit up. “That is one of my fantasies. Get on that bed, Scully.”

Scully walked backward, taking his hands, to bring him with her. Mulder kissed her again. She lay back and Mulder sat on the edge of the bed. “Now what, Mulder?”

“Um,” he smiled, despite himself. “This part is, um...not as awkward.”

“Well, from one doctor to another,” she started, “I suggest appropriate lightning for your examination.” Feeling self-conscious, Scully hugged a pillow across her chest. “That overhead light may be too much. The nightstand perhaps?”

Mulder quickly followed her advice.

“Next, I suggest a thorough examination of the upper torso. If you were performing an autopsy, a complete catalog of outside observances then a y-incision.”

He pulled away from the pillow and began his examination. Perfection was the first thing that came to mind. The still-raw scar near her abdomen warranted his first attention. Stupid Ridder. He kissed it lovingly, his tongue swirling around it. “I should have been there.”

“You’re here now,” she whispered.

She caressed his hair as he focused his attention on her breast. He kissed her reverently and traced the outline, slopes, and every shadow. Scully’s breath hitched. The feathery touches and the growing storm inside here was nothing like she could have imagined. She crossed her legs in an effort to control her body. God, this was worse than when she was a teenager with her early experimentations.

“You’re perfection.”

“Mulder,” she whispered. “As your doctor, this slow foreplay is killing me.”

“Well, let’s remedy that. Hips up.”

“And the same for you.”

“Really?”

“Equals,” she teased.

Scully took notice of his own evidence of the situation, protruding loud and proud. Her hands clenched at her sides. She wanted to take control. He took her hands as if sensing her frustration. “Scully, this is six years in the making, let’s just get this done.”

For once, Mulder: the voice of reason.

He undressed her until the lower undergarments remained. She flushed with embarrassment; it had been too long since she had done this. Fuck. He shucked his own pants and boxers and she breathed deeply.

“What?”

“Nothing. Nothing, Mulder. Well, not quite.”

His proof was understated. She bit her lip and clenched her thighs again. “You know I’m not done yet, right?”

“I know, Mulder.” Mulder stared at her before he bent down to kiss her again. But he switched it up. He kissed the cotton lining of desired areas. Again, it sent sparks up her spine. “Mulder, stop teasing me.”

Mulder’s thumbs hooked around the loops of her hips and gently peeled them off her. “The Holy Grail,” he murmured.

“Jesus, Mulder.”

“I haven’t even started, Scully.”

“I know but shut up.”

“That is the last thing I want to do.”

She felt chills. Another fantasy came to mind after watching him shuck sunflower seeds effortlessly for years. It happened in the blink of an eye. This was quickly becoming an x-file. His nose nudged away from the sensitive area. Then the flick of his tongue. Then the sucking. Then the teeth.

Holy Motherfucking of God.

Is this what rapture was? Scully was pretty sure of it because maybe her heart started and stopped a few times. The sensations were slow, like a building tropical storm about to turn into a hurricane. It was slow and felt...weird...dream-like? It was like she had suddenly been granted her deepest desires. She clenched the quilt and hissed, “Under, Mulder. Not on top.”

With effortless effort, they disappeared under the covers. Mulder left her hot center and crushed her against his own lips. She could taste herself on his lips. Scully wondered how often he had done this with previous women but the thought became fleeting as he broke away. How did he become such an expert? “Only you,” he whispered, answering her thoughts.

Scully gently turned him over so that she straddled his waist. The sheets and thin quilt hugged her thighs.

“This isn’t real.”

“Very much real.”

“Where does this leave us?”

For once, Scully didn’t have a reply. “To be determined?”

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

She felt his own hardness against her. Dear God, this was another thing she had imagined and, for once, her imagination failed her. Mulder peeled away the last of her garments as she took off his boxers. One upon a time, she would have worried about this little problem but now, she welcomed the potential. But at the same time, she mourned it too. Scully thought about her diagnosis following her cancer and her inability to have children. While it made for a new form of safe sex for her and the partner of her choice, it did make her feel sad.

“I do like the feel of it, Scully.”

“I must not be very imaginative,” she whispered.

She felt herself losing control and grind her hips against his. “Imagination is a poor thing against the real thing,” he whispered.

“So,” Scully asked, “where do we go from here?”

“Only way but up.” He laughed at his own lame joke. “Or down.”

She took his hands and extended them over his head. “Don’t resist.”

“Wasn’t planning to, Scully.”

Mulder found himself becoming more aroused. Scully normally wasn’t so...assertive but with the relationship she had with Mulder, she felt like his equal. Fuck, she was his equal. Still holding their arms and hands above his head, she leaned forward to kiss him. Her soft lips tasted him. He jerked his hips upwards as she giggled in surprise.

“I love hearing that,” he whispered into her ear. “You don’t laugh enough.”

“It is so hard these days,” she replied.

“I know.”

She slid up and down his length. Mulder freed his hands, unable to keep himself from touching her any longer. His hands flexed against her ass. His breath shuttered. “Mulder,” she whispered.

She guided him into her. Her body, despite the foreplay, protested at this new intrusion inside of her. But it felt like the missing piece. She remembered the awkwardness of losing her virginity; this was completely different.

“Oh, Scully.” He whispered her name reverently. Mulder hoped it was just as good for her. “Scully, this moment, everything about it. Perfection.”

“Faster,” she urged on. Her wish was his command. He dug his feet into the mattress and arched his hips upwards. Her eyes rolled back into her head as he hit the right spot. “Right there...right there, Mulder.”

“Harder?”

“You’re perfect. Just like that.” Over and over. “Yep.” Her voice sounded deeper than she thought it would. “Just like that, Mulder.”

He slowed his efforts. “Six years, Scully.”

“Feels like longer.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Keep doing that...no, right there. Like you’ve been doing.”

“Am doing?”

“Shut up, Mulder.”

Scully squeezed her thighs and he groaned at the sensation. Suddenly, the need became overwhelming for both of them. Mulder flipped Scully, taking control, and they never lost contact. This was a whole new whirlwind of sensation for both of them. Mulder felt Scully wrap her legs around him. They were both so close

“Flip,” she whispered in his ear. “I want to stay on top.”

Mulder did not have to be told twice. She was flipped again and Mulder relaxed as she clenched her thighs again.”Faster, Mulder,” she urged on.

“Hold on.”

With renewed vigor, he exerted the last of his energy to give her the best experience possible. Despite the years of not being vocal about their needs, they weren’t very quiet now. Scully remembered Shelia telling her that Mulder had a special connection with her; she would like to see the other woman’s face now. With a mere clench of her tights or a squeeze of her hand, she could tell Mulder what she wanted. The best relationships were rooted in friendship. Scully bit his lower lips teasingly and he nipped at her nose.

“Never been this good,” she whispered. She tried to catch her breath but Mulder found her lips and crushed them. “Jesus.”

“I’m so close, Scully.”

“Me too.”

Mulder got a devilish look in his eyes; his hazel eyes became almost black. “Together?”

Is that even possible, she thought?

With renewed vigor, she rode him and Mulder groaned loudly. “That’s...that’s not what I intended.”

She could feel him beneath her, curling beneath her. He wished they could do it together. “I’m sorry, Mulder,” she whispered. Her head fell downwards and Mulder brushed back her hair. “I just need a little help…”

“You’re perfect,” he murmured. “Show me how, Scully.” Their eyes met and she took his hand; she could already feel him withering inside her. “It’s okay, Scully. Show me. I want to.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Show me, Scully.” Her hand shook slightly but his larger hand covered her breast gently. “You’re beautiful, Scully.”Scully felt her anxiety ease and took his hand. She licked her lips and tried to keep herself from squirming away as Mulder caressed her mons slightly. She arched her hips and he found her clit. “Tell me, Scully. How does that feel?”

“Um, different.” She clenched her thighs again and let out a guttural moan as she guided him on how to do it just right. “Right there, Mulder.” She groaned again. “Right there.”

His thumb massaged wonders behind her eyes. This was better than any fantasy of hers. All this was better than any fantasy. He went down, she went up, and after six years, they were perfectly attuned. Soon, she clenched her thighs and she was coming hard. She moaned loudly, her eyes rolling back into her head. “Does that feel good?”

“Amazing,” she whispered.

He withdrew himself and she curled into his side. Mulder wrapped an arm around her snuggly. Scully smiled and whispered, “I can definitely get used to this.”

“You see more of this in the future?”

“I hope so,” she murmured.

He kissed her passionately. “I think that is a guarantee.”

#prompt #asked and answered #xfilex #xf fic #txf #txf fic #mulder #scully #msr #msr fic #rain king #smut #fluff #angsty a bit

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fandom-imagines-stories · 5 years

Text

Faces in the Water

Fox Mulder x Reader

Words: 4175 (I’m so sorry)

Summary: While investigating the disappearance of a group of teens, the reader stumbles upon a type of cult worshipping a mysterious creature. When the group takes her to serve as a sacrifice to the unknown life form, her professional and romantic partner Mulder must find her before she becomes an X-file herself.

Notes: I haven’t gotten this into a TV show in a while, so I’m super excited to write for it. I’m hoping to write more Mulder imagines soon, but please let me know if you guys are interested in seeing some Spooky Mulder stuff! Also, I’m just starting so in my mind, this is season one Mulder and Scully.

You dropped the file on an already cluttered desk and crossed your arms with a smirk. Mulder looked up at you over the top his glasses, which had fallen to the tip of his nose after hours of being hunched over paperwork and research.

“A dozen teenagers with ages spanning from twelve to seventeen have all gone missing in a small town outside Kansas City.” You informed him. You couldn’t contain your excitement.

“You might want to stop smiling or someone might get the wrong idea.” He pushed up his glasses and opened the file, the corner of his lips lifting slightly with amusement. As horrible as the disappearances were, it was the first legitimate case you’d found in a month and it had unusual written all over it.

“All twelve children were taken from public areas, but no witnesses saw who took them or where they went.”

“Have any bodies been found?” Mulder asked, flipping through each missing child’s case. The first disappearance was two years ago and the number of missing kids had escalated gradually in the past few months. The youngest was reported missing just over a week ago.

“No, but local authorities haven’t stopped searching. And they have stops at every exit to the town. If someone has taken the kids, they haven’t left.” You perched on the corner of his desk and set down the file, taking off his glasses and setting them on top of the folder.

“Am I sensing a road trip, Agent Y/L/N?” You took hold of his tie and pulled him up so he was standing in front of you.

“Bring the red tie… I like that one.” You smirked. While the two of you were usually awkward in most situations, when you were with him, you felt comfortable in your own skin. He didn’t look at you like you were crazy. He looked at you like you were more fascinating than anything in those file cabinets. With Mulder, you felt… normal. Or at least, your own strange version of normal.

Just as he leaned over you, his lips inching closer to yours, the door opened and you heard a cough carrying more sass than you thought humanly possible. Mulder turned his attention to the visitor, but you already knew who it was.

“Hey, Scully.” Mulder greeted, stepping away from you and picked up the file again.

“Don’t let me interrupt.” She sat down in the chair across from his, giving you a suggestive side glance. Dana was the closest thing you had to a friend and while you tried to keep your relationship with Fox private, it was no secret to her what went on in his hotel room when you snuck out of the one you typically shared like a highschool girl meeting a boyfriend her parents didn’t approve of.

“Y/L/N may have found a case.” He handed her the folder and she looked over it, her knowing smile still turning your cheeks red.

“I’d say it fits our typical profile.” She noted. “I’ll try and get us an investigation.” With one last subtle wink, she took the file to set up the case with your superiors. Mulder blew out a breath.

“Do you think she knows?”

Checking into the hotel, you and Scully took your bags to your room while Mulder spoke to the manager about the checkpoint set up down the road. Scully watched you put your clothes in the drawers and laughed to herself. You always made a show about putting your things around the room, setting the bed and pillows the way you liked them, to convince her that you’d be staying there.

“Since they haven’t found any bodies, looks like I’ll be making inquiries with you and Mulder.” She announced, changing out of the clothes she wore on the plane. You nodded and changed as well. You had just finished buttoning up your shirt when there was a knock at the door. Scully opened it and barely had time to step out of the way before Mulder barreled in.

“Did you know that the last kid to be taken called the police an hour before they disappeared?” He asked. “The manager’s brother was the first officer on the scene.”

“Did he find anything?” You grabbed your jacket. Mulder just shook his head.

“No one knows.” Mulder’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. “Officer Beacon’s body was found the next morning.” You and Scully exchanged a glance, shock apparent on both of your expressions.

“Cause of death?” Scully asked. Mulder shrugged.

“The manager says they never told the family.” He leaned against the dresser. “And due to the pending investigation, they haven’t released the body for burial.”

“Guess I’m doing an autopsy after all.” Scully went out to the rental car and you went to follow her, but Mulder hooked his finger on your necklace, getting you to turn back towards him. It was a little habit he just always had with you. Whenever he wanted to get your attention, he just tugged on the necklace he’d gotten you for your birthday.

“Something’s going on here and it’s more than just some psycho snatching up kids.” He muttered, wrapping the chain around his hand, pulling you closer to him. “We have to be careful.” You nodded in agreement and he moved his hand to the back of your neck, pressing a kiss to your forehead that silently promised that he wouldn’t let anything happen to you. And you took his other hand in yours to show him that you would have his back no matter what. It was your way of knowing exactly what each other were saying without saying a word.

“Are you guys coming?” Scully shouted from the car. You broke apart but kept your fingers intertwined until the last possible second.

Just standing outside the house felt wrong. Greyson Thermopolis, twelve years old, was the latest victim of the serial kidnappings- possibly murders. He lived with his mother and his younger sister- both were reportedly asleep at the time of the abduction. The curtains of the house were drawn, but you could just see a small, pale face looking out at you.

“Mulder,” You motioned to the little girl in the window.

“Lily, Greyson’s sister.” The girl vanished behind the curtain and you continued to the front door. Mrs. Thermopolis opened the door before Mulder even had the chance to knock. Her eyes were sunken and all the lights were turned off.

“I was wondering when you would show up.” She snapped, walking back into the house, expecting you to follow. You and Mulder exchanged a cautious look before following, feeling the cold darkness of the home close in.

“Mrs. Thermopolis, we were hoping to speak with you about the night that your son disappeared.” You began, looking at family photos as you passed by.

“I know why you’re here.” Mrs. Thermopolis lead you into the kitchen, the little girl from the window standing in the doorway to another room. Lily stared at you, the look of fear on her small features both frightening and intriguing you. She had seen something. “I’m just glad somebody is doing something around here.”

“What do you mean?” Mulder asked. To you, the countless checkpoints and patrolling officers sure seemed like something.

“Those useless officers have gotten no closer to finding my boy or any of those other kids.” Mrs. Thermopolis sniffed. “All they do is poke around and stir up trouble.” Turning your attention back to the mother, you handed her a handkerchief.

“What trouble have the police caused, Mrs. Thermopolis?”

“All they do is roam around the woods and give my daughter nightmares.”

“Do they think that the children may have been taken into the woods?” Mulder began asking her questions about what she thought of the ongoing investigation while you asked if you could speak with Lily. With the mother’s approval, Lily took you into the other room, sitting on the floor amongst piles of dolls and other toys.

“Are you one of the bad men?” She asked softly, holding a stuffed cat close to her chest. Her eyes held the fear of a child hiding from something in their closet. Like you were a monster she had to defend herself from. You knelt down so you were at her level.

“No, sweetie, I want to help.” Lily picked up a few of her dolls and placed them in a circle. “Your mom says that you’ve been having nightmares… do you mind telling me about them?” She placed a doll outside of the circle.

“The bad men come and take Greyson,” She started quietly, “they take him out to the woods where there are other bad men waiting…”

“Do you know why you’re having these nightmares?”

“I was supposed to be asleep,” Lily spoke in a whisper as if she didn’t want to get in trouble with her mother, who was still talking to Mulder. “But I was playing on the porch with my dollies and I saw them.” She pointed to the toys she had placed in a circle.

“You saw the bad men take your brother?” Your eyes grew wide. She nodded, keeping her eyes on the Barbie in her hand, the one that she had kept separate from the others.

“Then the nice man came to find Greyson,” Officer Beacon, “but the other one was one of them.”

“What do you mean the other one, Lily? Did Officer Beacon have someone with him?” This time, she held up two of the dolls, representing the two officers. “Do you know what happened?” Looking up at you, she popped the head off of one of the dolls, dropping the decapitated toy to the floor. The voice behind you nearly made you jump.

“Perhaps it’s time for you to leave.” Mrs. Thermopolis grabbed the toys from the floor, hiding the broken doll behind her and ushering Lily to her room.

“Mrs. Thermopolis, did you ever see Officer Beacon when he came to investigate your son’s disappearance?” You asked, trailing after her.

“No. I don’t know who that is and I would appreciate if you didn’t harass my daughter.”

“We just want to help,” Mulder assured her.

“If you want to help… find my son.” With that, she showed you to the door and slammed it behind you.

“Well that went well,” Mulder scratched the back of his neck with a sigh.

“What did she say?”

“That she was at a late shift at work when Greyson was taken and that both children were asleep. She mainly complained about local law enforcement. Apparently, the investigation isn’t being taken seriously by the chief.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” You scoffed. “The worst crime committed in this town before all this was the occasional chicken theft. This case would have even the most crime ridden cities on edge.”

“If you ask me, she just sounds like a mother waiting to find out what happened and she’s impatient with the investigation getting nowhere. Not that I really blame her.” The two of you got back in the car. “What were you talking to the sister about?” You shuttered, the image of that little girl tearing off the Barbie’s head still in your mind.

“Lily was slightly terrifying.” His eyes widened with intrigue.

“How so?”

“She said that she saw ‘the bad men’ take Greyson and that she saw Officer Beacon arrive… with another officer.” He pulled away from the house and you took notice of the woods that surrounded the neighborhood.

“Maybe that officer killed Beacon,” Mulder suggested.

“That’s exactly what I think happened.”

“Y/L/N, what if these kids aren’t being taken by some lone disturbed individual?” His brain was whirling with theories, most of which involved a town wide conspiracy. As you pulled into the parking lot, you devised your plan.

“Why don’t you go check in with Scully and I’ll go talk to the police chief about the investigation?” You wanted to know who else went with Beacon that morning. Mulder toyed with your necklace, stalling you from leaving the car.

“We don’t know who’s a part of this and who we can trust,” he started, the worry evident in his eyes, “just be careful.”

“I’m a big girl, Agent Mulder,” You teased but his expression was completely serious. “I’ll be fine.” He lowered his voice to a whisper- not because he was ashamed of what he was saying, but because his words were for you alone.

“I love you.” His lips barely moved as he talked, his eyes intensely fixed on yours. You were slightly shocked. It wasn’t that you hadn’t said that infamous four letter word to each other before, but it had only been uttered in the dark of his apartment or some secluded motel room. Even alone in the car felt public, but that somehow made it feel more impactful.

“I love you, Fox.” You placed a hand on his cheek. “I’ll be careful, I promise.” He pressed his lips to your palm and the two of you got out of the car, trying your best to leave your emotions inside it. The coroner's office was connected to the station, so you didn’t have to go far.

Chief Hally was more than willing to help you, offering to assist your inquiry and drive you to areas in the woods that may draw the weirdos, as he put it. After informing Mulder of your endeavor, you set out with the chief.

“I haven’t been able to sleep in months.” He admitted with a sigh, turning down the long, narrow road that led through the woods. “I just can’t stop thinking about those poor kids, you know?”

“It’s a difficult case,” You nodded sympathetically. He parked amongst a gathering of large, dead trees. The ground was littered with cigarette butts and empty beer cans, but nothing satanic.

Meanwhile, Scully and Mulder were making some shocking revelations concerning the death of Officer Beacon.

“It appears that something was injected into Officer Beacon via needle at the back of the neck,” Scully explained, showing Mulder the puncture wound. “Whatever it was seemed to eat him from the inside out. Almost all of his organs have been dissolved and it started to eat out through the skin here.” She pointed to a large tear in Beacon’s chest.

“Y/L/N said that Greyson’s little sister saw another officer with Beacon before he was killed.” Mulder pointed out.

“That’s where things get interesting.” Scully handed him a small log that Officer Beacon kept in his pocket. The pages were blood stained, but the most recent entry was still legible. “According to Beacon, Mrs. Thermopolis placed the call when she returned from her night shift. When he reported the situation, guess who insisted on going with him?”

“Who?” He cocked his head with interest.

“Chief Hally.” Mulder turned a ghostly pale like he was going to be sick. Scully put a stabling hand on his arm. “What is it?”

“Y/N just left with him. He’s taking her to the woods.” The sheer panic on his face sent Scully into action, picking up her phone and dialing your number. If her conclusions were accurate, then Chief Hally not only killed Officer Beacon, but most likely had something to do with the disappearances.

Hally was showing you another spot where punk teens gathered to smoke weed and complain about their parents when your phone started to ring. When you answered, Scully’s fantic voice responded.

“You need to get back here.”

“Scully?” She must have found something out about the body. “What is it?”

“Chief Hally killed Beacon.”

“What?” You whispered, cupping your hand around the phone to muffle your voice.

“He probably is responsible for whatever happened to those kids, now you have to get back here.” Scully watched Mulder pace the room.

You looked around, but Hally was gone. Your heart dropped and you quickly grabbed your weapon, whirling around just in time to avoid the needle Hally had at your neck. He charged towards you, knocking your gun from your hands.

“Y/N?” Scully exclaimed, hearing the commotion on the other end. Mulder stopped pacing.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” He asked.

You struggled as Hally advanced, barely able to dodge when he tried to stick you with the needle again. With a quick motion, you kicked his hand, sending the syringe shattering against a tree.

“Damn it,” Hally muttered. “I guess we’re going to have to do this the hard way.” He stomped on the phone that had fallen to the ground, leaving Scully to listen to the static.

“What the hell is happening, Scully!” Mulder yelled, snatching the phone from her, desperately hoping to hear your voice. “Y/N? Y/N!” Dana grabbed his arm.

“We’ll find her.” She assured him, grabbing her coat from the chair. If it wasn’t for her hand on his arm, he would have been frozen in place. He couldn’t ignore that terrible sound of silence on the other end of the line.

When they reached the lobby, Mrs. Thermopolis was waiting for them, an ashamed look on her face.

“He’s taken her, hasn’t he?” She muttered. Mulder stepped forward, a slightly wild desperation in his eyes.

“What do you know?” He growled. She sniffed, wiping her face with her sleeve.

“I think I know where they took my son… where he’s taken her.” Her body shook, but all he cared about was finding you. "But we don't have much time. By night it will be time.”

“Time for what.” He resisted the urge to shake her by the shoulders and demand answers. Her eyes were wide and frightened, tears pooling in them.

“The sacrifice.”

When you woke up it was dark. There was no moon to light the night so when the torches were out it was almost blinding. You could vaguely remember the sound of the windshield cracking when Hally slammed your head against it. You could feel the crust of dried blood on your face from the wound the blunt force had caused. The torches lit the faces behind them, casting dark shadows where their eyes should be.

You tried to move, but your wrists and ankles were tightly chained to a metal chair sitting at the edge of some kind of quarry. A face emerged from the dark, Chief Hally’s sadistic smile making you fight to free yourself more vigorously.

“Help!” You shouted at the circle of people. “Someone, please.”

“They will not help you,” Hally spoke calmly, but his voice only made you more afraid. “The Light must be satisfied.” As if called by name, the glassy black water began to slowly rise, reaching your feet. Feeling the freezing water, you could see something breaking through the dark surface at the other end of the quarry. Soon, a bright white light had engulfed the darkness. You stopped fighting, completely mesmerized by the glow.

“The Light brings us life.” The crowd chanted. “The Light brings us death.”

High above the cult and the water, Mulder and Scully followed a bright light shining through the trees. They reached a sheer drop into a quarry. The water seemed to be omitting the light, blinding them at first. Once their eyes had adjusted, Mulder could make out a group of people surrounding a single prisoner, strapped to a chair as the water rose around her.

“It’s her.” He gasped, stepping forward, the rocks crumbling beneath his feet and falling into the water. The light vanished.

You broke out of your trance and the group stopped their chorus, turning into confused and angry shouts. You looked around, trying to see what had happened and spotted the movement at the top of the cliff.

“Help!” You screamed. “I’m down here! Help me!”

“No,” Hally growled, unlocking your chains. You landed one punch to his ribs before the other cultists grabbed you.

“We have to do something.” Mulder started to figure out the fastest way down.

The crowd threw you into the water, your mouth flooding with the black liquid when you tried to scream. You swam up as fast as you could, gasping and sputtering for air.

“The Light brings life. The Light brings death. The Light brings life. The Light brings death.”

“Y/N!” A voice cut through the singing, but you were pulled under before you could see who. The water was once again bright, but it was no longer beautiful.

All around you, pale, lifeless forms floating motionlessly through the water. The children’s faces were blank, but their eyes were open, staring at you, clouded and as white as the substance around them. Some of them still looking normal, but others had pieces of skin missing as if they were being devoured. But it wasn’t the children holding you under. It was as if the water itself was keeping you frozen in place, waiting to feed.

Mulder took off his coat, moving his momentum forward. Scully grabbed his arm.

“What are you doing?” She snapped.

“I have to save her.”

“If you land wrong, they’ll be fishing your body out of the water too.” She wanted to save Y/N more than anything, but she wasn’t going to let him die. “If we hurry, we can get her- Mulder!” He dove in before she could stop him. From his height, he was lucky to smoothly enter the water without breaking any bones.

One by one, the children started to move towards you. As they closed in, the water began to burn your skin- not because it was hot, but because it was far below freezing. It was like every inch of your body was covered in dry ice. And suddenly, it all stopped. The children were yanked back into the dark as the water lost all illumination, releasing its hold on you as something else grabbed you by the waist, pulling you up and up and up until your head reached the surface.

You were pulled back to the shore where smoking torches were left lying on the rock, abandoned. You coughed up what felt like gallons of water, a hand on the small of your back, letting you know that you were safe. When you seemed recovered, Mulder pulled you into his arms and the two of you laid together until the moonless sky until you heard sirens and the yelling of a relieved, but fairly angry, Scully.

An entire day of questions and arrests and more questions passed until all of the cult had been rounded up and charged with the deaths of all twelve children along with the attempted murder of a federal agent. Officer Beacon’s brother was given at least some closure and refused to charge the three of you for your stay at the motel. The quarry was dragged, but no bodies were recovered. It was Mrs. Thermopolis who gave up the names of the conspirators, confessing to being a part of the cult. It was proven that she had been expelled from the group before any of the murders took place.

When she tested the contents of the vile that Chief Hally had tried to poison you with, she only found the water from the quarry. The exact cause of Officer Beacon’s death was still unknown.

You were sitting on your bed in the motel room, listening to the sound of the shower. Scully offered for you to have dibs, but just the thought of the water touching your skin made it crawl. The shower shut off and Scully emerged from the bathroom and turned on the TV.

“Go.” She said, turning to look at you.

“What?”

“Go ahead.” She gave you a small smile. “I won’t tell anyone.” With a grateful nod, you left the room and softly knocked on the one next door.

“It’s open,” Mulder announced from inside. You opened the door and stepped inside. He was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Seeing you, he propped himself up on his elbows.

“Hey.” You greeted, sitting beside him.

“How are you feeling?” He wondered, reaching his hand out to cover yours, gently rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, feeling suddenly overcome with emotion. “I saw them.”

“Who?”

“Those kids.” You sniffed, wiping away tears in the hopes he wouldn’t see them. “I saw their faces in the water. Whatever was in there was feeding off them… and it almost did the same thing to me.” He sat up to press a kiss to a spot on your shoulder, running his hands up and down your arms. You turned around to face him, hiding your face in his shirt. He gently tugged on your necklace like he always did, lifting your face so he could look in your eyes. Without saying a word, he pressed his lips against yours for a soft kiss that said more than either of you ever could and you buried your fears in his protective embrace.

#fox mulder x reader #fox mulder #david duchovny #expect to see him a lot #dana scully #x files #x files imagines

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realmofextremepossibility · 5 years

Text

Verboten

AU | Part 1/3 | PG - NC17

This was originally supposed to be an @xfpornbattle prompt, but of course, I never finished it. I’ve never really written anything multi-chapter before, so we’ll see how it goes.

Naval Air Station North Island, San Diego, California

June 1981

The salt of the sea tangled in her wind mussed tresses. She scrunched her toes deeper into the sand as the surf lapped at her ankles, a siren call beckoning her back to its depths.

A pair of strong tanned arms swept around her suddenly from behind and pulled her firmly against the chest of their owner swaying them gently from side to side, her burst of surprised laughter breaking over the crash of the waves. Her eyes slid closed and lips upturned as his soft lips nuzzled their way from the freckled skin of her shoulder, across the fine bones of her clavicle and up the curve of her neck to her ear.

“God, you are so fucking beautiful, Dana”

He pressed a gentle kiss in that sensitive spot just beneath it before pulling it into to his mouth. His hands crept lower on her hips, long curious fingers edging beneath the suit line, dancing their way towards the thin strings holding the sides together. A gentle tug on her ear…a gentle tug on the strings…closer and closer…

The sound of a car crunching in the driveway gravel jolted her eyes open and her hand from her panties. She jumped up in a panic, quickly wiping her hand on the towel she had laid down.

She peered out the window, her pulse speeding up and another gush of arousal flooding her already sopping underwear.

Fuck. It’s him. He’s here.

Fox Mulder was 19, brilliant, and beautiful, the star of many a late night teenage fantasy beneath the sheets in her darkened bedroom. He was also the on-again, off-again boyfriend of her older sister, Melissa, the forbidden fruit of her lust at whom she was forever allowed to look but never touch.

His tall, lanky frame leaned unaffectedly on the hood of his beat up Jeep, the epitome of cool, hair swept back and aviators perched on his aquiline nose, entirely unaware of the flurry of teenage anxiousness he was causing two floors up.

Her heart rampaged in her chest as she moved from the window to root around in the top drawer of her dresser, flinging her oversized t-shirt over her head in the process.

Damnit, pull yourself together, Dana. You can do this. This is your chance.

Her hand finally landed on what she was looking for and she pulled out the tiniest black bikini she had ever seen, let alone owned. The push-up cups gave her just the right amount of cleavage without looking too risqué and Melissa had insisted she buy it after dragging her to the mall last weekend.

"You need to learn to live a little, Dana," she'd chided, as she shoved her into the fitting room with the scrap of material. "You look smokin' and there isn't going to be a boy in town that can keep his eyes off you!"

Ahab would freak if he knew she had bought something like that. She looked in to the mirror to settle her breasts just right in the top before tugging on the barely there high waisted gym shorts her mother had expressly told she was not to wear in public. “Hot pants” were entirely inappropriate for a captain’s daughter. Her heart picked up speed at the illicitness of it all. Maybe Missy was right, she did need to get out of her comfort zone. And she knew exactly whose eyes she wanted on her.

Melissa and Mulder had been a thing since they met their sophomore year of high school and had broken up and gotten back together more times than she could count. Dana had been just a lowly thirteen year old in junior high, forever in the shadow of her beautiful older sister, but Mulder never treated her that way.

He was always kind, asking about school and her science classes, indulging her ramblings on Einstein and physics until Melissa pulled him away insisting she was boring him. He never seemed bored though. Bored people didn’t ask that many questions. Relevant questions at that. In a house where she was constantly talked over by Bill Jr. and Melissa, it was nice to have someone interested in what she had to say for once.

It was an innocent wish of a happy 14th birthday and kiss on the cheek that had changed everything. She'd stammered her thanks as her face flushed the color of her hair. Bill Jr. had teased her mercilessly for weeks afterwards. Her hand strayed to her cheek, certain she could still feel the gentle pressure of his soft lips on her skin, even three years later.

She smoothed her hair and leaned into the mirror, dabbing on just a hint of lip gloss and a few swipes of mascara, opting for the more natural look she knew Mulder preferred from one of the occasional eavesdropped conversations she had been privy to over the years.

Dana knew Melissa cared for Mulder, but she wasn’t the type of woman he needed. She was flighty and impulsive, and uninterested in settling down with one guy.

"Life is too short to tether one’s heartstrings to a single person so young, Dana," she'd once told her younger sister. "I want to follow my heart, be free to give and receive love."

What Mulder needed was someone stable and grounded. Someone to hold him when the nightmares about his sister woke him up crying and shivering in a cold sweat. He didn’t need someone to wave healing crystals over his head and babble about the deeper meanings of dreams and how they were the key to unlocking the subconscious.

Okay, so maybe she had eavesdropped more than just a few times. And Mulder’s bad dreams and beauty preferences weren’t the only thing she had “accidentally” overheard.

She’d heard him sneak in Melissa’s window one night, when they thought everyone else was asleep. Their shared bedroom wall was thin and hushed conversation quickly gave way to creaking springs. She could hear his muffled moans and felt an unexpected tingle down below.

She'd closed her eyes, imagining that she was the one making him make those noises. She hadn’t meant to, but she'd suddenly found her hand wandering lower of its own accord, pressing against the heat of her center. She'd quickly snatched her hand away, the nuns’ constant warnings about masturbation being the devil’s handiwork ringing in her head. But she couldn’t stop thinking about how good it felt.

In that moment, her innocent crush had turned into a full-blown obsession.

Dana Scully was a good girl. She was obedient and polite and god fearing. The heady rush of doing something so bad and wrong and downright naughty was intoxicating, even better than the time she sneaked one of her mother’s cigarettes in the dark. It was too tempting to resist. Night after night, she listened for his voice through the walls, a pile of soiled panties growing beneath her bed until she was alone in the house to do her laundry.

She took a final look in the mirror with a pop of her glazed lips and light spritz of Jovan Musk on her pulse points. “Discover the power,” the TV commercial had declared, claiming to bring more men and women together than any other fragrance in history. In a world filled with blatant propositions, brash overtures, bold invitations and brazen proposals, she was going to get her share. Satisfied, she slung her beach bag over her shoulder and headed down the stairs.

She wasn’t one of those immature girls littering the pages of her notebooks with hearts and his name in a loopy cursive scrawl. Mrs. Fox Mulder. Not anymore anyway. No, she was a woman. A woman who was going to show him that she was more than Missy’s kid sister.

As she made her way down the front steps to the driveway, he was still sprawled, god-like, against his car, chewing on that much fantasized about bottom lip and pensively shucking sunflower seeds with his tongue, an errant lock of hair flopping into his eyes.

Dana's fingers twitched with the urge to brush it back and just slide her fingers through his hair, certain it was as soft as it looked.

Keep it cool, Dana. You got this. Shoulders back, stomach in, chest out. Cool, casual, breezy, confident.

She strutted towards him with a subtle sashay of the hips, her chin tipped with an air of disinterest.

Mulder lifted his sunglasses slightly to peer over the mirrored lens, his eyes flitting briefly over the newfound curves of her body that had bloomed since she’d last seen him. Dana felt her face flush with a streak of pride and bit her lip to keep from grinning, willing herself to keep her cool. She had only recently become accustomed to having this power over men, and she’d be lying if she said it didn’t thrill her. For once, boys actually looked at her, instead of just Missy.

“Oh, hi Mulder,” she tossed out as casually and breezy as she could manage. He never let anyone call him Fox.

He pulled off the sunglasses, training the full force of his smile on her, the bright white glinting in the noonday sun. Her insides turned to mush and her knees went weak. He had no idea of his effect on her. It was entirely unfair.

“Hey, Dana!”

Just the sound of her name on his lips made her stomach flutter and crotch moisten again. She could listen to that throaty monotone for hours. She took a deep breath in a futile attempt to settle her nerves and prayed the thundering echo of her pulse wasn't audible outside her own ears.

"What are you doing here? Didn't Missy tell you she was going out of town for the weekend?"

“Oh…” Mulder murmured, his smile fading. He shook his head as if to clear it, suddenly looking like a lost puppy who couldn’t find his owner. “Yeah, I guess she did mention that. I must have forgotten. Sorry, I should go.”

He reached to put his sunglasses back on and turned towards the car.

“Wait!”

Mulder jumped, startled at the force of her tone and her sudden hand on his arm.

Perfect, Dana...that was absolutely chill, cool, calm, and collected. Fantastic.

“You should come with me to the beach,” she offered brightly, doing her best not to frighten him anymore than she already had. “It’ll be fun! Plus, I hear it rains a lot in England, so you should enjoy the California sunshine while you can.”

He smiles softly at her, his mood seeming to lift. “Yeah, okay. I'd like that.”

"I was planning on going down to Coronado -" she began, frantically stopping midway at his scrunched nose of displeasure."But if you have a better idea, I'm down for anywhere!"

Mulder chuckled and rested his hand against the exposed small of her back to guide her towards the Jeep, sending a rash of goosebumps across her skin.

“Actually, I think I do. Hop in, kid. I know just the place.”

#it's been forever since I've written anything #let alone something not intentionally terrible #imadethis #txf fic #xf fic #txf fanfic #xf fanfic #the x files #x files

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ghostbustermelanieking · 6 years

Note

Hi!! I read the extended IVF Christmas prompt and loved it! I was wondering if you'd consider also writing a bit more for #5 of the IVF? I could use a little cheering up and I love your fanfics! Have a wonderful day!

sorry for the wait, anon! i hope you enjoy this. other parts are here and here.

—

1. They’re living together. Mulder’s stuff has gradually migratedover to her apartment, her closets and shelves and dressers; his fish tank sitsin her living room. There’s a clutter of unpacked cardboard boxes in the hall,but the baby’s room is painted, crib set up, star mobile hanging from theceiling. Scully bought it on a shopping trip with her mother, and tried topretend like it was Maggie’s idea, but Mulder saw right through her and kissedher in the baby room with his hands on her stomach.

They’re living together, but they were practically living togetheralready. Nights in his apartment, nights in hers. The night she was staying athis apartment when someone called to tell them that Donnie Pfaster has brokeninto her apartment, and the two and a half weeks spent in a panic at hisapartment, refusing to go back until he gently convinced her. Cleaned it up forher while refusing to let her help and made her tea. The near month straight hestayed with her after his mother died and they found his sister too late.(Teena had left a lengthy letter of apology and family heirlooms for the baby.The onesie that Mulder and Samantha came home from the hospital in, old babytoys, a family doll that had belonged to them both. All things that sat in thebaby’s room now.) The week where he refused to leave after the smoker asked herto go on some insane road trip and she admitted she halfway considered itbefore telling him. She didn’t ask him to move in until the end of a weekendwhere there were crop circles in England and an ex in the hospital, and theywere lying in her bed together with her feet against his ribs and his head inher lap. But now, they are really living together, and their baby is due inthree days. It feels like some strange dream, some alternate reality.

It’s a Saturday in August, entirely too hot, and Mulder’s on thecouch, contemplating dinner, and Scully’s latest cravings, and whether or nothe can talk her into a viewing of newly released The Lazarus Bowl (theycouldn’t fly out to LA for the release, but Skinner reports that it is good;Scully caught a preview on TV one time and expressed her disgust), when Scullycalls out from the bedroom. “Mulder?”

“What’s up, Scully?” he calls, putting down his drink and standingup. “You okay?”

She exits the bedroom with an unreadable look on her face, one ofhis t-shirts stretched taut across her stomach and her hands on either side,pressing in. “My water just broke,” she says, with the tiniest, worried smile.

2. He stays with her. He doesn’t leave her side. He’s slightlyterrified to leave her side. He puts on the scrubs at Scully’s insistence (he’sbeen ignoring doctors for years, but he’d never ignore her), and then he standsdirectly beside her, holding her hand and letting her squeeze the life out ofit, kissing her sweaty forehead. When she cries out with pain, it is difficultnot to try to take it all away, not to bargain and plead for it to end. All hecan do is try to comfort her, and he does. And he knows it is worth it as soonas they hear the splitting cries, see the doctor hold up the baby.

“It’s a boy,” the doctor says cheerfully.

Mulder cuts the cord with trembling fingers, and they pass thebaby to Scully. He would have it no other way. She is crying as they lay thebaby on her chest; she places her face next to his and whispers something thatMulder can’t hear. Their son. He moves back to her side, strokes her hair andkisses her temple, his eyes on the baby. Their son. Their son. He touches thebaby’s arm with feather-light fingers.

“He’s here,” Scully says weepily. “Oh, god, Mulder, we did it. Wegot him here.”

Mulder dips his head and kisses the baby’s bald head. He iscrying, too. “We did it,” he agrees, and the tears are dripping down his face,and he genuinely thinks the sight of Scully with their baby is the mostbeautiful thing he’s ever seen.

3. “What do you want to call him?” he asks that night, seatedbeside Scully’s bed with the swaddled baby cradled in his arms.

Scully is stroking the baby’s hand with one finger, nudging hislittle fist open, and she says absently, “I was considering William.” He’sstartled, looking up at her in surprise, and she gives him a look of sort ofsoft confirmation. “After our fathers,” she says quietly.

He doesn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. He thinks of hismother, of the flowers from Maggie on the dresser and the outfit from hisfamily that Scully packed in the bag to bring William home in. “Yeah?” hemutters, leaning forward to rest his head against hers. “I like it.”

“Are you sure?” she asks in a low voice. Her hand is still on thebaby’s arm, but she reaches up with the free one to touch the side of his face.

He’s thought of his parents a lot recently, of everything shittyabout his childhood, of all the ways he doesn’t want to be like them. But withthe bad things come the good things, and with the wounds of his mother’s deathstill raw, he can’t help but think of the best parts of his father. The partsthat read Saturday morning comics to him when he was a kid, taught him how to throwa baseball, taught him how to change a tire and ride a bike and fix a leakysink. And his father feels almost irrelevant when he thinks of Scully and herfather; he’d never met the man, but he knows how much he meant to Scully.

“Positive,” he says, brushing his lips over her forehead. PassesWilliam to Scully as he starts to fuss. “As long as you promise we never haveto call him Bill.”

4. They’re surprisingly good together as parents. He feels like heshould’ve seen it coming, considering that they’ve worked together for sevenyears now, but he never did. Never thought they’d ever be in this type ofsituation.

But still: their lives fall into a sort of a routine. His leave isused up long before Scully’s, but he doesn’t take any cases. Skinner’s hintedthat their budget may be under review soon, and besides that, he doesn’t wantto leave Scully and Will. He spends most of his time rattling aimlessly aroundthe office, making calls home to entertain a tired and frazzled Scully,sneaking out early to give Scully a chance to rest. “I miss you at work,Scully,” he says almost every day, and her replies vary from genuine andaffectionate to exhausted and on edge, but they’re almost always some variationof, “We miss you at home.” He pins up baby pictures on the bulletin board nextto blurry photos of monsters and the photo of him and Scully.

Skinner puts him on a task force for an entirely un-supernaturalserial killer. He throws himself into work between 9 and 5, and then he goeshome and tries to forget it all, buries his face in Scully’s hair and holds herfor a long moment, cradles William on his chest while they watch TV. Theytether him to Earth in a way he is beyond grateful for. His family.

He learns to change diapers. He wakes up when Scully does in themiddle of the night, swearing that it’s practically a habit anyway, promisingto take over feeding duties when they switch him to a bottle. He puts Williamto bed, and he hums tunelessly, and he burns dinner again and again until hegets it right, and he makes an effort to make sure that there’s nothingexpired in the fridge, and he folds laundry as soon as it’s clean possibly forthe first time in his life, and he makes an effort to keep things clean. Hekisses Scully, and sleeps in her (their) bed, and steals all the coversand runs her hot baths, and lets her take four hour naps on the weekend.Promises to take her somewhere nice someday. And it’s about the most bizarreturn he could’ve expected for his life—his messy, dangerous, tragic life—and hedoesn’t regret a bit of it. This, this is what he imagined in the moment Scullyasked him to be a donor. The moment he said yes and saw that thousand-wattsmile spread across her face.

5. There’s another week on Scully’s maternity leave, but she’sbored out of her mind, and she’s declared that it’s time William sees theX-Files office, anyway. (Mulder grins dopily when she says that, and she says,“To show him what a crackpot his father is, of course,” and he says, “Oh, Ihave plenty of stories about his mother, you know,” and she kicks him in theshin.) He gives her the desk chair, scoops Will up from his car seat andbounces him on his knee, takes him around the office and shows him theparaphernalia. “Look, Will,” he whispers in the baby’s ear. William waves hisfist at the blurry photo. “That’s a genuine photo of Bigfoot.”

“That is not Bigfoot,” Scully says determinedly. “That is afaked photo, a complete scheme that your father fell for.”

William babbles absently, stuffing his fist into his mouth.Mulder’s about to retort when the phone rings. He passes Will to Scully andanswers.

It’s Billy Miles, a throwback seven years deep. Hearing his voiceand thinking of Scully, of what they are to each other and the way they were onthat case seven years ago is overwhelming. Especially with their child rightthere, balancing in his mother’s arms, sucking on a pacifier.

More alien abductions. All the way across the fucking country,thousands of miles away from Scully and Will.

He’s shaking his head before Billy can finish, politely refusingand offering condolences. He hangs up and turns to Scully.

She’s raising her eyebrows at him, curious. “Mulder, who wasthat?” she asks. “Something important?”

“No,” he says, and finds he actually means it. He reaches down toWill and lets his son seize his finger in his hand. He kisses Scully’s cheek,unable to help it. “Nothing important at all.”

#xf fanfic #i wrote this #i write too much kidfic dont i #this is the only thing i've finished since sunday

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mldrgrl · 6 years

Text

In Another Life 5/7

by: mldrgrl Rating: PG-13 Summary: See Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

Mulder did his due diligence and spent the week reviewing the files as Blevins had asked. The cases intrigued him and he found himself down rabbit hole after rabbit hole of research. The frustrating thing was knowing he wasn’t able to do anything about cases that were upwards of 60 years old. They sucked up all his time and energy and he hardly gave a thought to anything else. It was only when his sister called him the night before his meeting with Blevins to remind him that Thanksgiving was two weeks away, that he remembered he had an invitation to think about. He was so consumed that he hadn’t even gotten around to telling Samantha the latest news yet.

��How can she be married?” Samantha asked.

“I’m assuming they went to a church, a priest asked do you and do you and he said yes and she said yes, and then they were married.”

“You’re hilarious, Fox.”

“So, I don’t know what I’ll do. Maybe I will go, maybe I won’t.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“You’re just saying that because you want me to come to Rhode Island.”

“True. But, I’m also saying it because she’s married.”

“Maybe I want to meet the guy for myself.”

“Bad idea, Fox.”

“I’m the king of bad ideas. But, truthfully, I haven’t even really given it much thought. I’m absorbed in something for work right now and I haven’t even thought about her.”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so. And I have to hang up now because I need to prep for a meeting in the morning.”

“Okay, love you.”

“You too.”

The next morning, Mulder paced the anteroom outside of Blevins’ office, waiting to be seen. The old secretary gave him the evil eye as she opened mail. Mulder stopped and sat down, thinking that perhaps the woman’s age and size, she just might be capable of stabbing him with her letter opener. Blevins admitted him a short time later and the first thing Mulder noticed was a TV and VCR on a cart in the corner, making the cramped room even more cramped.

“How did you find the x-files, Agent Mulder?”

“Fascinating, Sir. Given the opportunity, I’d like to do more work on-”

“I don’t need any speeches,” Blevins interrupted. “I want to know if you’re interested on working these cases full time.”

“What would it entail, exactly? I don’t even know what the x-files really are.”

“What do you think they are?”

“Judging by what you gave me, I’d say they are cases with am underlying paranormal element to them, or at the very least, an unexplainable phenomenon or event that warrants investigation. But, the thing is, no one has done any real investigating. They’ve just provided a record of events without any real attempt at solving anything.”

“There is real challenge in trying to solve the unsolvable, isn’t there, Agent Mulder?”

“Challenge, yes, but I believe anything is possible with enough diligence.”

“Tenacity is exactly what I’m looking for.”

The phone on Blevins’ desk buzzed and he picked it up. “Yes? Yes, send her in.”

To Mulder’s surprise, Scully opened the door a few moments later. There was equal surprise on her face when she saw Mulder, but she quickly looked away and went to shake the section chief’s hand.

“Sir,” she said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. You’re just in time, I was about to brief Agent Mulder on a case assignment.”

“Should I wait outside?” she asked, stopping at the second empty chair in the room.

“Not at all,” Blevins answered. “You’ll be on this assignment as well.”

Scully raised a brow at Mulder as she sat down. She’d dressed for the meeting, he could tell, in a navy skirt and blazer. Her hair was more curled than usual and her makeup was a tad more obvious.

Blevins pulled the TV cart out from the corner of the room and turned the TV on. He took up a remote and then went back to his desk and pressed play on the VCR. “You’re looking at footage of a team of scientists in Alaska working on the Arctic Ice Core Project. They were sent up there by the government's Advanced Research Project Agency nearly a year ago to drill into the Arctic ice.”

On the screen was a staticky image of five men standing a beer keg, holding Dixie cups, raised up as to give a toast. The man in the middle spoke to the camera. “Team Captain John Richter here,” he said. “It's been a couple of frustrating months, but after a great deal of stick-with-it-ness, we're very proud to report that as of a half-hour ago, we surpassed the previous record for drilling down into an ice sheet.”

The men all cheered, and one tossed his ball cap up in the air. They high-fived each other and shook hands after downing the beer in their Dixie cups. Blevins paused the videotape.

“The samples they removed contained trapped gases, dust, and chemicals,” Blevins said. “Evidence that could reveal the structure of the earth's climate back to the dawn of man.”

“That would be an amazing discovery,” Scully said.

“Indeed,” Blevins agreed. “Their work was a success, nearly completed. No reports or indications of problems of any kind until roughy a week ago, this next transmission was received.” He pressed play again and a few seconds later, the screen on the TV went blue, and then the man called Richter appeared again, sitting in front of the camera. He leaned in close so that his face filled the screen.

“November 5th, 1993, I think,” Richter said, breathing hard, in some sort of distress. His speech was broken into fragments as he took deep breaths between nearly every word. “We're not who we are. We're not who we are. It goes no further than this. It stops right here, right now.”

Suddenly, Richter was pulled out of the screen by another man, so quickly that it seemed to happen in a blur. The camera fell over and the screen went blue again.

“What happened up there?” Mulder asked.

“So far,” Blevins said. “No one’s been able to reach the compound because of bad weather.”

“Is it severe isolation distress?” Scully asked.

“These are top geophysicists,” Blevins explained. “They were trained and screened for this project in every way imaginable, including psychological makeup. You’ll leave for Nome today.”

“I’m sorry,” Scully said. “Nome? Alaska?”

“From there you’ll meet with three other scientists familiar with the project, and then you’ll head north to Icy Cape. The National Weather Service reports a three-day window to get in and out before the next Arctic storm.”

“Guess I need to pack my mittens,” Mulder said.

“That’s all,” Blevins said, dismissing them both. “Mildred has your airline tickets at her desk.”

Mulder got up from his seat, followed by Scully. He held the door open for her and then smoothed his tie down his chest as he cleared his throat to get Mildred’s attention. Thankfully, the letter opener was no longer in her hand.

“You have airline tickets for us?” he asked.

Mildred handed them over and Mulder passed them to Scully while flashing the secretary a smile. Her glare was impenetrable.

“Long time, no see,” Mulder said to Scully as they waited for the elevator.

“I suppose we’ve both been busy.”

“Yeah, there’s...there’s actually something I’ve been working on that I want to tell you about.”

Scully nodded, but her focus was on the itinerary in her hand.

“What’re you thinking?” he asked.

“Alaska?” she answered. “Now?”

“Dress warm.”

******

Mulder never traveled all that much for work; not by plane, anyway. He was accustomed to rental cars and the DC Metro area, with occasional forays along the eastern seaboard. The furthest he’d ever been, for work, was Jacksonville.

He arrived at Dulles with only minutes to spare before boarding. Scully was already at the gate, in the same suit she’d been in during their meeting with Blevins. He’d changed into jeans, a thermal shirt, and a sweater while he’d gone home to pack.

“Hey, Scully,” he said, dropping his bag in the seat next to her. “Ready to explore The Last Frontier?”

“I thought that was space.”

“Some nerd you are. Space is the final frontier.”

“Oh.”

“Something wrong?” He shoved his bag aside and sat down next to her.

“Why am I being sent along?”

“I imagine it’s because those scientists are presumed dead.”

“Why wouldn’t Blevins say that?”

“No one ever wants to speak about worst case scenarios. They just plan for them silently and hope that things turn out okay.”

The agent behind the ticket counter announced boarding for their flight and they both stood. Mulder grabbed his bag. Scully retrieved a small duffel from under her seat. It didn’t look nearly large enough to accommodate winter clothing and all the things women seemed to need when traveling. Maybe she’d checked a suitcase as well.

“You didn’t have anything to do with it, did you?” Scully asked, as they moved into the line with the other passengers checking in.

“I found out about it at the same time you did. What’s your seat assignment?”

“10A.”

He tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice. “16C. Guess I’ll see you on the other side.”

Mulder settled into his aisle seat and did what he always did on airplanes; fiddled with the airflow, tested the overhead light, and rifled through the seatback pocket to see if the magazines were any good. To his surprise, Scully came down the aisle a few minutes later and stuffed her bag in the overhead bin above him.

“I found 16B,” she said. “We traded.”

Mulder stepped out into the aisle to let her pass and then sat down beside her. She latched her seatbelt right away and then went through the seatback pocket as well. She moved the vomit bag from the behind the array of safety cards to the front of the pocket.

“Someone left a People at my seat,” he offered.

“I should warn you, I’m not a great flyer.”

“Okay.” Samantha wasn’t a great flyer either, but mostly during turbulence and landing. She once squeezed his hand so fiercely he thought his fingers might break. “Is it something specific? Take off? Landing? Turbulence?”

“Yes.” She took a deep breath and blew out slowly. “I took a couple Dramamine after I got here. Hopefully it will help.”

Mulder wondered for a moment if she’d sacrificed the comfort of a window seat just to sit with him. Some people need to be able to see where they’re going to feel more secure. Or maybe sitting with someone she knew was what she needed.

“Hey,” he said. “How’d you get 16B to trade with you?”

“I told him we’d been separated by accident and if he wouldn’t mind, could we trade so I could sit with my partner.”

Partner? He wanted to ask, but didn’t. The cabin doors closed and no one came to claim the window seat in their row. If she wanted, she could move over and take it, but she didn’t. She stayed next to him, gripping the armrests with white knuckles when they took off, and then sleeping through meal service and two in flight movies on his shoulder. She woke slowly, minutes after the captain had announced their descent into Nome. Her head lolled slightly and she rubbed her cheek against his arm. He wanted to brush the hair away from her face, but kept his hand closed into a loose fist in his lap.

“Morning, Sunshine,” he whispered to her when she finally stretched and came to.

“Where are we?” she asked, groggy, eyelids droopy.

“About to land. You missed the riveting Last Action Hero and the critically acclaimed Free Willy. I’d like you to know the latter did not in any way tug at my heartstrings and I didn’t cry at all.”

Scully smiled slightly with her eyes closed. Her head slipped to the side again so she was resting against his shoulder, but she wasn’t asleep. He cautiously put his hand over hers where it lay on the armrest and her fingers twitched gently, but she didn’t move. They stayed that way until the plane landed, despite the alarm bells going off in Mulder’s head of how wrong it was.

******

The Nome airport was small and seemed rather desolate. Outside, Mulder could see the snow on the ground and feel the chill in the air when the cabin door opened. He pulled his jacket out of his bag and offered it to Scully, but she shook her head and said she’d change in the restroom and just be a few minutes.

The fact that she went into the airport restroom in a dress suit and heels, with a small duffel, and came out dressed in leggings, snow boots, a flannel shirt, and oversized white parka, should have probably been in one of the x-files Mulder had read over the week. All in less than five minutes too. It had to be some sort of world record.

“As if you’re not already amazing enough,” Mulder said to himself while Scully was too far off to hear him.

“I’m ready,” she said.

“Yeah, I’ll say.” He didn’t even ask how she accomplished such a feat. Some mysteries should probably remain unsolved.

They were directed to a hangar on the grounds of the airport to meet the remainder of their team and wait for their connecting flight. Two men and a woman, dressed warmly and with duffel bags of their own, were already in the hangar. They introduced themselves as Murphy, Hodge, and DaSilva; a geologist, a physician, and a toxicologist, respectively. A tall, burly man with dark curly hair came towards them and announced that he was their pilot and his name was Bear. The name suited him. Mulder saw Scully pale a bit at the sight of the single engine plane that was going to take them to Icy Cape. He put his hand on her back in support.

It was about an hour’s ride to the bunker where the ice core project made their camp. It was a bumpy ride, and Mulder kept close to Scully. She looked a little green during some of the more harrowing dips the plane took, but she bore it stoically and quietly. He noticed she was a bit shaky once her feet were on solid ground.

The landing strip was a short, five-minute walk to the entrance of the bunker. The team, including the pilot, lugged their gear across the snowy terrain. The door was stuck, iced at the seams, and it took two of them, Mulder and Hodge, to push it open. Six flashlights shined in unison into the dark room and they were greeted by the sight of two dead men on the ground, guns beside them. Mulder recognized one of them as the project leader from the tape, the man named Richter.

Scully pushed past Mulder and entered the interior chamber where the bodies lay. Her work there had begun the minute the door opened.

“Before anyone touches anything, we need to document the scene,” she said, crouching next to Richter’s body. “There’s a camera in my bag. Mulder, could you get that please. Someone try to find a way to turn the power back on.”

“Anything to get out of here,” Murphy, the geologist said, and turned to leave. He was tall, thin, and Mulder had him pegged as a nervous, anxious type.

“There are body bags on the plane,” Bear said.

“What should we do?” DaSilva asked. She was the toxicologist. Her blonde hair was tucked under a ski cap and she clapped her gloved hands together.

“Start taking pictures,” Scully answered, nodding towards her when Mulder went to hand over the camera he’d dug out of her bag.

A loud bang sounded from outside and then a light bulb suspended from the ceiling by a long electrical cord flickered on, casting a dull orange glow. Murphy came back and lingered in the doorway. Hodge kept waving his flashlight around the room. He landed on a cluster of barrels labeled Ice Cores 3,175 - 3,260.

“That’s what they were drilling for,” Mulder said.

“I need to preserve some samples,” Murphy said, pushing past Hodge to get to the barrels. Obviously, the work excited him and made him forget about the bodies.

Before he could get too far, Mulder heard a low growl and he threw his arm out, stopping Murphy from passing. “Wait,” he said.

A dog, fur standing at attention and back arched in a threatening pose, slunk into the room, teeth bared. Murphy yelped and then jumped back. The dog lunged and hit Mulder in the chest, knocking him back.

“Hey!” Bear yelled, kicking the dog off of Mulder. The dog lunged at Bear and bit his hand. Bear screamed.

Mulder yanked his jacket off and threw it over the dog’s head, subduing him. Hodge came running towards them with a hypodermic needle in his hand and plunged it into the dog’s nape. The dog yelped, whimpered, kicked his legs, and then went still.

“Are you okay?” Scully asked, cupping Mulder’s elbow.

“I’m fine.” He nodded towards Bear. “His hand is bleeding.”

“Is he rabid?” Murphy asked. “What if there are more rabid dogs here?”

Hodge, who was examining the dog, shook his head. “I don’t see any indication of glottal spasm or tetany. If it is rabies, it's certainly not a strain I'm familiar with.”

“Look at that,” Scully pointed to bottom of the dog’s paws. “Black nodules.”

“And swollen lymph nodes,” Hodge added.

“Those are symptoms of the bubonic plague,” Mulder said.

“The plague!” Murphy cried.

“Now, calm down,” Mulder told him.

Hodge stood and brushed his knees with both hands. “I’ll do a blood test. That’ll tell us more.”

“The dog’s got a skin irritation on his neck,” Mulder said. “Looks like he’s been scratching out his own hair.”

“What the hell is that?” DaSilva said, pointing to the dog’s neck.

Underneath the skin where the dog has scratched himself, a bump rippled over his vertebrae. The bump receded and then rippled again.

The small group, minus Bear who was sitting against the wall and clutching his hand to his chest, stood over the dog, puzzled and concerned.

******

Mulder and Hodge, on Scully’s orders, moved the two bodies from the interior chamber to the main laboratory, where the found the bodies of the remaining members of the ice core project. She set up a makeshift autopsy table and went to work. Each member of their little team went off to perform their own specialties. Murphy started analyzing the ice core samples. Hodge examined the bloodwork of the dog. DaSilva checked for the presence of toxins. Mulder helped Bear wrap his bleeding hand and then went poking around into areas he had no business in, that was his specialty, after all. The only noteworthy thing he found was on a bathroom mirror, written in black marker: WE ARE NOT WHO WE ARE.

“Find anything,” he asked Scully when she came out of the curtained area she’d commandeered for herself to do the autopsies.

“From the autopsies, it's clear that these men killed each other,” she answered, peeling off her gloves. “There are contusions around the throat areas of three men, evidence of strangulation. Richter and Campbell killed themselves. I also found tissue damage due to fever.”

“Did any of them have black spots like the dog?” Murphy asked.

“No. None of them had the black nodules.”

“Then those spots didn’t have anything to do with those guys killing each other?” Bear asked. He sat in the corner of the room, sweaty and pale. He looked like he might be sick.

“I wouldn't rule it out,” Hodge replied, pushing past a set of plastic flaps that separated one part of the lab from the other. “I just reexamined the dog. The nodules are gone.”

“What does that mean?” Mulder asked.

“Well, it could mean that the spots are a symptom of some disease at an early stage.”

“There’s one other thing that should be noted,” Scully said. “Hodge, you might want to take a look at it.”

“What?” he asked.

“There seems to be a presence of ammonium hydroxide in Richter's blood sample.”

“That’s impossible. Ammonia would vaporize at human body temperature.”

“I’ve analyzed two samples already.”

Hodge narrowed his eyes and followed Scully to a worktable with a high-powered microscope on it. DaSilva emerged from the hall that led to the sleeping quarters, followed by Murphy.

“I didn’t find any evidence of toxins in the air filtration systems,” she announced.

“But, I did,” Murphy countered. “In the ice. I found a high ratio of ammonia to water in the ice core. The earth's atmosphere could never have produced such high levels, not even a quarter of a million years ago.”

“Not unless a foreign object was introduced into that environment,” Scully said.

Murphy nodded and asked to take over the microscope. He exchanged the slide that Scully and Hodge were analyzing for one of his own, made some adjustments to the focus, and then offered the lens back to Scully. She peered into it and then looked up like she was startled.

“Tell me that’s not a foreign object,” Murphy said.

Hodge took a look after Scully and then Mulder had his turn. To him, it looked like some sort of worm was wiggling around on the slide, flipping its tail back and forth. He moved away so DaSilva could look as well.

“That same thing is in Richter’s blood,” Scully said, she walked around the table as though she was talking a theory out to herself. “What if that single-celled organism is the larval stage of a larger animal?”

“Kind of a leap, don’t you think?” Hodge said, taking another turn at the microscope.

“The evidence is right there,” she argued, pointing at the slides on the table.

“Maybe the organism in the ice core somehow got into the men,” Murphy offered.

“Come on,” DaSilva scoffed. “Nothing can survive subzero temperatures for a quarter of a million years.”

“That we know of,” Scully said, looking at Mulder, who nodded.

“Unless that’s how it lives,” he said.

Bear stumbled to his feet, interrupting the pow-wow over the worm. “Look here,” he grumbled. “I don't see why you're squabbling over some bug. You said it yourself, Scully, those men killed each other. That's it. You all found what you came for, now let's just get the hell out of here.”

“I agree.” Hodge nodded. “We can have the bodies sent to a facility where they can make a definitive diagnosis in the event that something was missed, Agent Scully.”

Mulder saw Scully bristle. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared up into Hodge’s face. “If those bodies are infected with an unknown organism, we can't remove them, Doctor Hodge,” she said. “We can't go back without proper quarantine procedures. We can't risk bringing back the next plague.”

“Let's say you're right,” Bear interjected, wiping sweat off his brow. “They came down with something. We haven't, and I ain't waiting around until we do.”

“I think it's perfectly safe to go back,” Hodge added. “We've taken all the necessary biological safeguards. There’s no reason to suspect we’re infected.”

“But, the dog bit Bear,” Murphy pointed out.

“It jumped on Mulder too!” Bear yelled.

“It didn’t break the skin,” Mulder argued.

Bear snarled and took a few aggressive steps towards Mulder, but both Hodge and Scully intervened and pushed him back.

“Listen,” Scully said, holding her arms out as though refereeing both sides of the room. “There's only one way to proceed, here. We have to eliminate every possibility and determine if any of us is infected.”

“Parasitic diagnostic procedure requires that each of us provide a blood and a stool sample,” Hodge told her, raising his brows.

Not to be deterred, Scully went over to a shelf in the lab and came back with an armful of sterile jars. She placed them down on the table and glared at Hodge, almost daring him to challenge her.

“Anyone got the morning sports section?” Mulder asked, attempting the break the tension in the room. He grabbed one of the jars and nodded to Hodge.

“I ain’t dropping my cargo for no one,” Bear growled, swiping up one of the jars and hurling it at the wall where it shattered on impact.

Both Murphy and DaSilva jumped and yelped.

“What I'm doing is getting my gear, getting my plane and flying the hell out of here.”

“You can’t do that,” Mulder said. “The dog bit you.”

“I got hired to fly you up here and fly you back. No one said this might be part of the deal. So, the deal is over.”

Bear stormed off to the sleeping quarters, where they’d all found a place to put their things. Scully moved to go after him, but Mulder put a hand on her shoulder and held her back. He was fairly certain Bear was sick, if not infected. There was no telling what he might do.

“We can't let him leave without being checked,” Scully said, shrugging Mulder’s hand off her shoulder.

“Who’s going to stop him?” Murphy asked.

“We have to,” Scully argued. “We can’t risk infecting the population.”

“If he gets on that plane, I’m going with him,” DaSilva said.

“We don’t have time to argue about this!” Scully hissed. “You want a majority rule on this? Fine, let’s take a vote. Whoever thinks we should confine Bear until he’s been examined, raise your hand.”

Murphy’s hand was the first one to shoot up in the air, followed by Scully. She looked at Mulder with a tight expression on her face, one that said, ‘if you don’t raise your hand, I will not hesitate to kill you,’ so he slowly put his hand in the air as well. Hodge sighed and then raised his hand. The only hold out was DaSilva.

“I guess that takes care of that,” Mulder said. He removed his weapon from his holster and flipped the safety off. Beside him, Scully did the same.

Bear stomped into the lab dragging a black bag with him and his coat over his arm. Scully trained her gun at him and he snorted.

“Bear,” Mulder said, using the even tone he’d been taught in hostage negotiation tactics. “We just want to check you out. If we don’t find any trace of a parasite or virus, we’ll let you go. We’ll all go.”

“Gimme the damn jar,” Bear growled.

Mulder holstered his gun and picked up one the jars. He handed it to Bear who stared at it for a few moments and then without warning, smashed it into Mulder’s head. Mulder groaned, but he instinctively brought the flat of his hand up into Bear’s nose. Bear yelled and stumbled back, giving Mulder the time and advantage he needed. He grabbed his arm, twisted it back behind him, and slammed Bear’s head down onto the worktable. He had a strong grip on Bear’s wrist and thumb, so that when he tried to wrestle free, his arm and hand bent back in opposing directions, maximizing his pain.

“Handcuffs would be nice right now,” Mulder complained. His temple throbbed where Bear had hit him.

“I have rope,” Scully announced.

As she worked to secure Bear’s hands, DaSilva stepped up next to Mulder and gasped. “Oh my god!” she cried. Mulder looked at the back of Bear’s neck where the skin rippled just like the dog’s had.

“Get my bag!” Hodge cried, pressing his hand down on Bear’s neck just below the ripple.

“What’re you doing?” Mulder yelled.

“I’m gonna cut it out!”

“We don’t know enough about it!”

“It’s killing him! Help me!”

Scully had grabbed a pair of gloves in the pandemonium, and she leaned over Mulder’s arm and hold the skin on Bear’s neck taut. Hodge grabbed a scalpel from the bag DaSilva brought him and began to slice through the skin. Mulder turned his head, gagging a little. Beneath him, Bear was screaming and spasming.

“Forceps!” Hodge yelled.

When Mulder turned to look again, Hodge was slowly easing a worm-like creature from the back of Bear’s neck. The worm writhed, pinched in the beak of the forceps, and splattered Bear’s neck with drops of black liquid.

“Hold still, Bear,” Mulder said. “You’re gonna be okay.”

DaSilva pushed a jar into the foray and Hodge dropped the worm inside, sealing it quickly. Bear stopped squirming and let out a sigh akin to relief, and then went limp on the table. He’d passed out.

******

The CB radio in the bunker was at a little station off the side of the laboratory. Mulder flipped it on and sent out a distress call. “This is the AICP Investigative Team calling Doolittle Airfield,” he said. “Come in, Doolittle Airfield.”

“DAF responding,” came the reply.

“This is Agent Mulder, we have a serious biological hazard on our hands. Request air pick-up and quarantine procedures, over.” The radio replied with static, and Mulder tried again. “Come in, Doolittle Airfield.”

“We copy, Agent Mulder. Your area is under a heavy storm and no aircraft can get out until the next day. Maybe the military base in Kotzebue can set up a quarantine. Advise immediate evacuation, the Arctic storm is bearing in your direction, over.”

“We were told we would have three clear days of weather, over.”

“Welcome to the top of the world, Agent Mulder. Over.”

Mulder tipped the microphone over onto the table in frustration. He laced his fingers together and brought them to the back of his head. His temple throbbed endlessly. He pushed out of his chair and went back into the lab.

“Is Bear in any condition to fly?” he asked. “If we don’t get out of here within an hour, we won’t be getting out for days.”

Scully looked down at her gloved hands. They were covered in blood. Hodge turned away.

“Bear’s dead,” Scully said.

******

Scully and Hodge spent the next hour studying the worm while Mulder, with the assistance of both squeamish and jittery Murphy and DaSilva, moved the bodies of the research team, and Bear, into the frigid interior chamber. It was difficult and laborious and it made Mulder’s head hurt even more. Hodge and Scully sat at the worktable comparing notes when the last body bag had been laid out.

“Well,” Hodge explained. “It's similar to a tapeworm in that it has a scolex with suckers and hooks.”

“It’s a tapeworm?” Murphy asked. “Then you know what to do about it.”

“I said similar to a tapeworm. But, also, very different from any organism that I know of.”

“Have you figured out how it’s transmitted yet?” Mulder asked.

“Exchange of fluids, touch, air, all of the above? I don't know.” Hodge shrugged.

Scully slid a jar across the table. “All of the other dead bodies had the creature,” she said. “This is the only one that's still alive.”

“Were they all in the spine?” Mulder asked.

“No. It appears that they were in the hypothalamus gland deep in the brain.”

Murphy closed his eyes. “Hypothalamus? That’s the…”

“It's a gland that secretes hormones,” Hodge supplied. “I don't know why a parasite would want to attach to it.”

“The hypothalamus releases acetylcholine, which produces violent, aggressive behavior,” Scully theorized. She paused for a moment and then nodded to herself. “That might be the connection. Everybody that's been infected certainly seems to act aggressively. Maybe the worm feeds on the acetylcholine which floods our capacity to control violent behavior.”

“A parasite shouldn’t want to kill its host,” Mulder said.

“It doesn't kill you until it's extracted,” Hodge said. “Then it releases a poison.”

“You're saying it's possible that the worm makes you want to kill other people, which is maybe what happened to the first team.”

“What if it happens to us?” DaSilva asked.

Hodge put up his hands to alleviate any worries. “This is just a theory. We don’t have any definitive proof of anything.”

“Except five dead men,” Murphy reminded them.

“But,” Hodge countered at Scully. “If the worm makes people violently aggressive, why did Richter and the other guy we found in the chamber-”

“Campbell,” Scully supplied, tiredly rubbing her forehead.

“Why did they kill themselves?”

“Maybe they did it to save us,” Mulder said.

No one responded. They all looked around at each other in awkward silence.

“Why don’t we get some sleep,” Mulder suggested. “I think we’re all a little wired and hypersensitive. We can get a fresh start in the morning.”

“I need to check the bodies,” Scully said. “Maybe I missed something.”

******

Mulder waited until the rest of the group had gone to bed to join Scully in the chamber. She was bent over the unzipped body bag that Bear had been placed in, cheeks ruddy from the cold. He crouched down next to her and put his hand on her shoulder.

“Why don’t you get some sleep, Scully?”

“I’m too tired to sleep, Mulder.”

“You should try. It’ll do you good.”

“I don’t want to waste a second trying to figure out what this thing is.”

“Look, I want to kill it too-”

“I don’t want to kill it.” She looked up at him and cocked her head. “I want to study it.”

“But…”

“Mulder, this area of the ice sheet was formed over a meteor crater. The thing, whatever it is, lived in ammonia. It survived sub-zero temperatures. Theorists in alternative life-designs believe in ammonia-supported life systems on planets with freezing temperatures.”

“Are you telling me you think that thing is some kind of alien?” Mulder nearly chuckled, but her face was stony and serious.

“I’m saying that the meteor that crashed here a quarter of a million years ago may have carried that type of life to Earth.”

“Scully, Bear developed surface symptoms within a few minutes. I saw him change. He was sweaty and agitated. He looked flu-like. Within a few hours, that parasite had total control. What would happen if this got into the population? A city the size of New York could be infected within a few days.”

“Exactly. But what do we know about it? This organism might be lying dormant in another crater. We need to study it, to find out how it works, so we know how to deal with it in the future, if another one surfaces.”

“I don’t want to run the risk of ending up like Richter and Campbell. Do you?”

“No.” She lowered her eyes and gave her head a few shakes from side to side.

“I think we need to take those bodies, worms and all, and incinerate them.”

“Mulder, you told me you believed that a scientist persists, and that’s why new discoveries are made every day. You even told me you thought I could be the one to make such a discovery.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t…”

“You don’t believe that? Or you were just telling me something you thought I wanted to hear?”

“I do believe it. I just think this might be a little more dangerous than...than...I don’t know what. I don’t want you to get hurt. I mean, I don’t want any of us to get hurt.”

Scully got to her feet and stared down at Mulder. “Don’t patronize me, Agent Mulder,” she spat.

“Hey!” Mulder jumped up and followed at her heels into the laboratory. He stopped short when Hodge and DaSilva blocked their way. Both had their arms crossed like disappointed parents.

“You okay, Agent Scully?” DaSilva asked. “You seem a bit stressed.”

“I’m fi...just what the hell are you implying?”

“Everybody calm down,” Mulder urged. “We’re all tired and scared, but that’s no reason to turn on one another.”

“She got Bear’s blood on her,” DaSilva accused.

“We all just need to get some sleep,” Mulder said.

“You kidding?” Hodge scoffed. “You think any of us could sleep right now? Let's face it, we've got to check for spots. Any person or persons who has them should be confined. Are we agreed on that?”

“Are you doing the exams?” DaSilva asked.

“No,” Scully said, sharply. “We do them on each other.

******

“Before anyone passes judgement, may I remind you we are in the Arctic,” Mulder told Hodge and Murphy as he undid his belt. Getting naked in front of two strange men was not high on his list of things to do, but for the threat of biological contamination, he’d do what he had to do. Hodge examined both Mulder and Murphy and Mulder examined Hodge. They did not find any evidence of black spots or ripples under their skin.

Throughout the process, Mulder was less concerned for himself than he was for Scully. In case either Murphy or Hodge had turned out to be infected, he had backup in the whoever wasn’t contaminated, but Scully only had herself. He waited for the results of their examinations rather impatiently, trying not to let his level of agitation show.

When they all came back clear, the team seemed to noticeably relax a bit and agreed that they should head to bed. The rooms Mulder and Scully had dropped their bags in were across from one another. Mulder held her back a little as they all shuffled off to the sleeping quarters and stood next to her door as she opened it.

“Hey,” he said, quietly. “If you thought I was implying that you couldn’t take care of yourself earlier, it isn’t what I meant.”

“I know that. I apologize for snapping, I’m just…”

“On a short fuse right now. I think we all are.”

“Yeah.” She nodded.

“Well,” he said, crossing the hall to his own door. “If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

“Good night, Mulder.”

“Don’t let the bed bugs bite,” he said, wryly.

“Mulder,” she said, waiting until he’d turned back to look at her. “Don’t forget, the spots on the dog went away.”

He nodded, but the warning was clear. No one was out of the woods yet. He closed the door softly behind him and then leaned against it for a long time before he crawled into bed.

******

Mulder woke with a start, his eyes flying open to the shadows on the ceiling. The desk lamp he’d left on still glowed. His gun was still on the table where he left it. He heard a noise, like the sound of a door closing, and he swung his legs out of bed and searched the floor for his shoes. It was probably nothing, maybe one of the others using the facilities, but he decided to check it out anyway. He was down to his thermal shirt and jeans, but he was warm from sleep and didn’t bother with his sweater.

Slowly, Mulder crept down the hall, his gun at his hip and flashlight guiding the way. He saw that Murphy’s door was open, but the rest were closed. As he passed by, he shined the light inside the room, but it was empty. The lights in the lab were still on so he tucked his flashlight in his pocket and looked around. The infected dog, having been confined to a kennel after being subdued and examined, was now awake, growling low in the corner. He hears something, like a leaky faucet, and he looks around for the source.

Beneath the large, walk-in freezer, something dripped steadily into a small puddle on the floor. Mulder eyed the dark liquid with trepidation and then opened the freezer. Murphy’s body, throat slashed and still oozing blood, fell out onto him. He yelped and lowered the body to the ground, just as Scully, Hodge and DaSilva ran in.

“Mulder!” Scully cried. “What are you doing?”

“Murphy’s dead,” he said, nodding down at the body in his arms.

“You killed him?” Hodge accused.

“I found him like this! I heard a door close and I came out to check. It’s one of you.”

“You’re lying,” DaSilva said.

“He could’ve done it and not even known,” Hodge said.

“No, he said he didn’t do it,” Scully defended.

“I don’t have any of the symptoms,” Mulder added.

“You examined him yourself, Hodge,” Scully reminded.

Hodge scoffed. “Six hours ago.”

“It was one of you!” Exhausted and angry at the accusations being thrown at him, Mulder jumped to his feet and took a few steps at Hodge, whipping his gun out and pointing it at him. Scully intervened so that she was standing between the two men.

“Stop it!” she yelled. “Stop it right now. Mulder, put the gun down and let Hodge give you a blood test.”

“So he could doctor the results? I’m not letting him near me with a needle, he could be infected!”

“He has to be confined, right now,” Hodge ordered.

“Turn around and let us look at your neck,” Scully said.

All this time he’d thought Scully was the only one he trusted, but she was siding with Hodge and DaSilva. It was disappointing and his feelings were hurt. He waved his gun and shook his head.

“I'm not turning my back on anyone! As far as I'm concerned, you're all infected!”

“Hodge is right,” DaSilva said. “We need to lock him up.”

While Mulder was distracted by glaring at DaSilva, Hodge had grabbed a crowbar from the worktable and lunged and Mulder. Mulder jumped back and aimed his gun at Hodge. Scully pulled her gun out and aimed it at Mulder, much to his shock and dismay.

“Mulder!” she yelled.

“Scully, get that gun off me!”

“Listen to me,” she pleaded.

“Put it down!”

“You put it down first!”

“Scully, for god’s sake it’s me!”

“You may not be who you are.” She begged him with her eyes to lower his weapon.

It was a struggle, and he broke into a sweat fighting his impulses, but he put his arm down and turned his weapon over to Scully, holding the butt out to her. She holstered it and kept her own aimed at him.

“The storage room,” Hodge said.

“Come on.” Scully nodded, moving forwards while Mulder moved backwards towards the little room off the side of the lab. He was still not about to turn his back on any of them.

DaSilva ran ahead and opened the sliding door to the room. Mulder shifted his body to a bit of an angle so he could see every one of them as he backed into the room. He pulled the string for the overhead light bulb and it swayed above him. He caught Scully’s gaze and held it.

“In here,” he said. “I’ll be safer than you.”

Someone slid the door shut between them and he heard them drop the bolt in the lock. Scully still hadn’t lowered her gun. It was devastating.

******

Hours passed. Exactly how long, Mulder wasn’t sure. At a certain point, he’d turned off the light and sat in the dark, sulking and brooding. His initial anger became sadness, and he’d even shed a few tears, which then turned to frustration and back to anger. By the time the door slid open again, he was feeling resigned and woozy. He scrambled to his feet and squinted in the sudden flood of light that illuminated the small storage room.

He was alone with Scully, and if things weren’t so tense and awkward, he might be inclined to believe he’d fallen asleep and was dreaming. His situation wasn’t a dream, however, it was a damn nightmare.

“It’s just you?” Mulder asked, eyes not quite fully adjusted.

“It’s just me.”

“It’s one of them,” he insisted.

Scully stood at least two feet away from him, her body perpendicular to his. She only looked at him sideways with her head down. He could see her chest rising and falling with the rapid breath of fear, though she was trying to hide it. It made him feel both smug and irritated. She should be afraid, but not of him. He stepped closer to her and she flinched and leaned away.

“Mulder, no one’s been killed since you’ve been in here.”

“So?”

“We’ve found a way to kill it. Two worms in one host will kill each other.”

“You give me one worm, you’ll kill me!” he snarled, leaning down into her face.

She swallowed. He could practically hear her heart thumping against her chest. She smelled of lingering perfume and anxiety. Her eyes darted around the floor below her, but never bounced to Mulder.

“Okay,” she whispered. “If that’s true, why wouldn’t you let us inspect you?”

“I would have, but you pulled a gun on me,” he whispered back, through gritted teeth. “I don’t trust them. I want to trust you.”

“They’re not in here right now.

Mulder stared into Scully’s face until she turned her eyes towards him, head still bent. He straightened and turned his back to her, pulling his collar down to his shoulders, presenting her with his neck. It took a few moments, but he felt her move close. He could feel her breath on his skin and it stirred his gut and his groin. Then, her hand passed across the expanse between his shoulder blades and the breath went out of him. Her hand was warm and soft, moving down his spine and up to his nape in a slow caress. He wanted to push her up against the boxes in the corner and drive the anxiety out of her until she proclaimed her loyalty to him and only him.

He should’ve been ashamed of himself just then, but he wasn’t. He was still angry, but he was also aroused. He only hated her because he loved her. It was wrong, he knew it was wrong to want her, but he couldn’t help it. If her hand continued to sweep across his back so softly, he just might forget that she was married.

She stopped though, and gave a nervous laugh. Her head bowed and bumped his back softly. He stood completely still while her hands dropped to his hips.

“You’re fine,” she murmured, to him or to herself, he wasn’t sure. And then she let go.

The loss of her body heat hit him in the gut. He whipped around, taking her by the shoulders and pulling her back to him. She tried to turn her head to look at him, but he touched the side of her face and gently turned it back. He pulled softly at the collar of her flannel shirt, exposing the top of her back and neck to his greedy hands.

He brushed her hair up and out of his way and his let his fingers trail through the soft curls at the back of her neck. He palmed her nape and swept his thumb from side to side across her vertebrae. He wanted to kiss each and every bump of her spine from neck to tailbone. She breathed deeply and sighed.

“You’re fine,” he said.

“Mulder,” she whispered.

He raised her collar up and lightly rested his hands on her shoulders. “It’s one of them.”

“Stay behind me. Let me do the talking.”

The anger he’d had evaporated. Deep down, he’d known all along that she was protecting him, and putting herself in danger to do it. Now, she wanted to lead a possible battle. It made him want to pull her back to him again and wrap his arms around her. It made him want to press his face into her neck and not come up for air until he had to.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

Scully hesitated and then stepped to the door. She gave two swift bangs and then it slid open. DaSilva and Hodge both backed up as Mulder and Scully walked out.

“I’ve examined him,” Scully said. “He’s not infected.”

“Neither is she,” Mulder added.

“Which means it must be one of you.”

“Okay,” Hodge said. “But, I still want to check him out myself, and then he can examine both of us.”

Mulder nodded once. The next few seconds happened in a blur. Hodge lunged at him and knocked him into a stack of boxes. DaSilva rushed at Scully and shoved her back into the storage room and locked the door. Mulder fought back at Hodge, wrestling him across the floor. They traded the upperhand multiple times, slamming into equipment, knocking things off shelves.

Hodge had Mulder pinned, his forearm across his neck, while Mulder kicked to free himself. DaSilva rushed over with the forceps, the worm dangling ominously from between the pinchers.

“No!” Mulder yelled.

“Do it!” Hodge ordered.

Mulder saw the worm come down towards his ear. He screamed and bucked, but Hodge had him locked down tight. Suddenly, his grip went slack and he shoved DaSilva to the side. Mulder rolled out from under him and skittered back.

“Mulder, it’s her!” Hodge yelled.

DaSilva seemed to make a break with sanity at that point. She screamed high and long, darting around the room and shoving things off the table, breaking glasses, pulling down shelves. Hodge ran to the storage room door to let Scully out and Mulder retrieved the forceps with the worm still held in its grip.

“It’s her,” Hodge told Scully. “It’s DaSilva.”

DaSilva managed to find a gun in the chaos and waved it around the room, screaming hysterically. She fired off a shot that one of the glass cases of equipment and shattered it. Hodge, Mulder, and Scully ducked.

“Take this,” Mulder said, handing Hodge the forceps. “On my go.”

“Be careful,” Scully told him.

Mulder jumped up and DaSilva spun around with the gun extended. Before she fired a second shot that hit the ceiling, Mulder tackled her to the ground, knocking the gun out of her hand. She screamed in his face and it felt like his eardrum might burst. Scully was suddenly there on the other side, holding DaSilva down where Mulder couldn’t. Hodge hovered over them and dropped the worm into her ear. She arched up off the ground, the tendons in her neck bursting and pulsing, face red. And then she went limp and whimpered.

“You’re okay,” Scully whispered, soothingly. “You’re okay.”

******

The storm that was supposed to blow through the area fizzled out, and a rescue plane touched down mere hours after DaSilva had been subdued. They’d moved her to the sleeping quarters where Hodge kept watch over her until paramedics took over and loaded her into the plane. They’d all been hustled as quickly as possible out of the facility and back to Nome, where they waited for flights home.

“She's being put in quarantine along with the dog,” Hodge said, as they watched DaSilva being loaded into a containment unit. “We'll keep her there until we're sure she won't infect the rest of the population.”

“We should go back,” Mulder said. “If we had the proper equipment, knowing what we know now, we could poss-”

“Don’t you know?” Hodge interrupted.

“Know what?”

“45 minutes after they evacuated us, they torched the place. There's nothing left.”

Mulder looked to Scully who had her brow furrowed. “Who did that?” she asked.

“Military, CDC, you’d know better than I would. They’re your people.” Hodge shrugged and then squinted up at the sunlight breaking through the clouds. He slung his bag over his shoulder and then walked away without a goodbye.

“It’s still there, Mulder,” Scully said, looking up at him. “200,000 years down in the ice.”

“What do you want to do?” he asked.

She inhaled swiftly through her nose and then reached down to pick up the bag at her feet. “Leave it,” she said.

He nodded in agreement, though if she’d said she wanted to drill, he’d grab a shovel and do it himself if he had to.

******

The flight home wasn’t even half-full. Actually, it was a flight to Vancouver, and then on to DC, but the handful of passengers who’d deplaned in British Columbia, were replaced with a handful of passengers headed to DC. Seeing as how they had their pick of seats, Mulder waited until everyone had boarded to head down the aisle to Scully’s row.

“Excuse me,” he told the woman seated in the aisle seat. “There was a mistake when our tickets were issued. Would you mind if I sat with my partner?”

“Oh, no, of course not,” said the woman. She unhooked her seatbelt and smiled at Mulder and then at Scully as she got up.

“Do you have a bag?” he asked. “I’d be happy to move it for you.”

“Oh, aren’t you sweet. Yes, the blue one.”

Mulder took the woman’s bag from the overhead bin and walked it down to the bin above his old seat. He traded her bag for his and then went back down to Scully. She watched him with a half-lidded gaze. Instead of stretching out in his aisle seat, he sat in the middle, next to her.

“Did you take your Dramamine?” he asked her.

“Yep.”

“I heard the stewardess tell someone one of the inflight movies is going to be Groundhog Day. You’re gonna miss it.”

“I’ll live.”

“I’ll give you a summary when we land.”

Scully yawned and nodded. She had her head leaned against the wall next to the window, but she shifted in her seat and rested it on Mulder’s shoulder instead.

“Is this okay?” she asked.

“I don’t know, Scully. You tell me.”

She was quiet for a few moments. “Have you thought about where you’ll go for Thanksgiving?”

“Yes.”

“Have you made a decision.”

“Yes.”

“Are you gonna tell me what it is?” She yawned again and her eyes closed.

“I’ll come.”

“You will?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad. I’ll…” she paused to yawn and stretched against his arm. “I’ll send the time and place to your email address.”

“Okay.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

She yawned again and didn’t answer. Minutes later, she was asleep. This time, she missed Groundhog Day and Benny & Joon. Mulder thought both of them were terrible.

******

#i wrote this #xf fanfic #msr #season 1 #slow burn

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blackcoffeeandteardrops · 6 years

Text

Lullaby

So I avoided it for a while, but it is now two weeks post-MS4, and I have written baby!fic. Their surprise second baby is a girl and everyone knows it, including William, by the way. ANYWAY, you can find it below the cut. Also at AO3.

In retrospect, Scully knew she should have seen this coming. Despite a rocky start, her pregnancy had been relatively normal. The morning sickness lasted longer than she would have liked, and she was out on light duty earlier than she might have wished, but thanks in large part to Kersh’s placing she and Mulder on suspension that hadn’t exactly been a problem. After talking everything through, their plan had been to give up their lives as agents altogether, choosing instead to go other routes. She was brushing up on recertification courses although she wouldn’t need them for a while, and Mulder had accepted a few requests for guest lecturing rather than dodging them like he used to.

He hadn’t wanted to accept this request with her due date around the corner, but she’d insisted there were a few weeks left and that she knew how to get ahold of him should anything happen. It helped that the school was little more than ninety minutes away, and he could get there fast if the need arose.

The whole pregnancy had been fine. Scully had found an OB they’d not just checked but double and triple checked, using sources outside of the FBI to verify she stood up to the standards they required. Given her history, Mulder knew she was right to be cautious. True to his word, he’d been there every step of the way. She’d caught him up before the sun painting the room they’d selected as the nursery, and had it not already been clear, she’d realize then and there he was just as dedicated to the new child growing inside of her as she was, pouring whatever energy he had into it, perhaps in an attempt to make up for having missed so much of this the last go around.

They’d held onto each other while walking through Ikea and picking items out that months ago might have been a sore subject, a sad reminder of what was once lost. Once, she thought, because despite everything life had thrown their way, William--or Will as he asked them to call him, because Jackson wasn’t who he was anymore and William seemed too formal--had slowly but surely carved out a place for himself back in their lives. He started coming around to the house for a few hours at a time, always needing to borrow something or ask for something to eat, but staying under their roof for one night turned into two and then a week, and while he still took off for a day or two without saying anything, he more than made up for it whenever he came home.

Home, Scully thought, dropping a plate she’d been cleaning into the sink of soapy water. She gripped the counter, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth. The pain low in her abdomen had started early that morning, subsiding just as soon as it started. With Mulder out of town, she didn’t want to call him back and risk worrying him for nothing, so she’d spent the morning lounging on the couch, propping her feet up as she dozed off to the sounds of daytime TV. It happened only once again after that, a subtle reminder that the little one inside her was preparing to make their entrance, but it wasn’t enough to trouble her.

“Whoa,” William’s voice called from beside her. “I came down to get something to drink, but you--”

Had she not been in pain, Scully might have laughed at the way his hands fluttered from her shoulders to the small of her back, recognizing that she needed help but unsure of how to provide it. “I’ll be fine, it’s probably just a false alarm.”

William stood next to her, taking in the way she squeezed her eyes shut, gripping the edge of the sink so tight her knuckles turned white. He’d been with them for a few months now, so it wasn’t like he was entirely a stranger, but he didn’t know how much of a say he got in all this. They’d carefully tiptoed around references to his own connection to the baby, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable, until the week before when she must’ve shifted downward and Scully said something along the lines of “you’re sister’s giving my bladder a harder time than you did.”

“Really, Will, it’s okay,” Scully insisted, though she reached out for his arm before he could back away. “Can you help me back to the couch? I’ll leave you alone after that.”

“You’re not bothering me, you know,” William replied, waiting until her grip on his arm was secure before starting to move back towards the living room. “You guys, like, let me move in here without question. The least I can do is make sure you’re okay. Do you want me to get you some water or anything?”

Scully winced, shoving one of the throw pillows behind her back for better support. “Water, please.”

William hesitated, furrowing his brow as he watched her attempts at getting more comfortable, and then turned to get her the requested water. He came back a few moments later to see her face much more composed, with her head tilted back and her eyes closed. “I was just up in my room watching a movie. I could move it down here if you wanted.”

Scully rested a hand atop her abdomen, rubbing at the spot where her unborn baby girl was jutting out what she believed was her heel, and she smiled. She opened one eye and shook her head as she looked back at William. As much as it warmed her heart to hear him offer, she was honestly looking forward to a few minutes of rest by herself. The moment would soon come when that rest was hard to come by. “I appreciate it, Will, but now that I’m feeling better, I think I’m going to take a nap. I doubt I’d be good company.”

William stared at her for a second, dubious, before shrugging and heading for the stairs. “Well, if you need me, you know where I’ll be.”

Scully nodded, taking a sip from the water he’d brought her and pressing the cool glass to her cheek. She put the glass on the end table and then settled back into the couch, intending on getting some sleep. As it turned out however, any attempts at sleep would be short lived. Her eyes bolted open as she felt pressure in her lower abdomen, followed by a pain that was far too sharp for her liking. As far as she could tell, her water hadn't yet broken, but Scully couldn't pretend any longer that she didn't know what was happening. The baby was coming, whether they were ready for her or not. Reaching for her cell phone sitting on the coffee table was a struggle, but eventually she was able to grab it and key in Mulder’s number. “Come on, pick up,” she whispered. She hated the idea of bothering him, especially when he was so far away, but she didn't want to take any chances.

Mulder's phone rolled over to voicemail, causing Scully to groan, tossing her own against the couch cushions. The pain had temporarily subsided, but Scully knew it was only a matter of time now before it happened again. She cast a glance in the direction of the stairs, unsure of how he'd take it but also knowing that without Mulder she didn't have any other viable options. “Will!”

William appeared less than a minute later, brushing the hair from his eyes as he took in the sight of her pained expression. “What can I do? Is it time?”

Scully winced, trying her best to keep her breathing steady. “I think so,” she replied, knowing she needed to try her best to remain composed if she were to ask this of him. “I need you to go upstairs and grab my purse. My keys are inside. I need--”

“You can't drive like--” William paused, his eyes widening for second as he realized what she was asking. “Oh. So you want me to drive you? Do I need to pack you a bag? Aren't you supposed to have like a bag of clothes or whatever when you go to the hospital?”

Scully shook her head, pulling her lip between her teeth. “It's already in the trunk. Will, I’m sorry, but can you hurry? Please?”

“Right, yeah. I’ll...be right back,” William replied, glancing once more at her before dashing upstairs for her purse.

On their way to the hospital, Scully called Mulder several more times, leaving him a message and finally deciding to text him where they were headed. She knew he couldn’t be lecturing the entire day, but she also didn’t know his exact schedule, so she pressed her head against the window and prayed he’d manage to get a break in between classes to check his phone.

William changed lanes, tightening his grip on the wheel as he risked a glance over at her. She hadn’t made any strange faces and she hadn’t yelled out, but he still wasn’t sure if that was a good sign. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” Scully replied. At the moment, it wasn’t entirely a lie.

“Sure you are,” William mused. Maybe it was odd they could joke at such a moment, but he knew as well as she did how much of a miracle it was that they’d gotten here. While the visions had ceased months ago, other abilities still remained. He hadn’t impersonated anyone ever since the fateful day on the docks, at least for any length of time, but a part of him considered flooring it and putting on the face of some officer on the way to an emergency should they get pulled over. He looked over at Scully in the passenger seat, thinking better of it, at least for the time being.

By the time Mulder called back, Scully was already admitted and put in a room for monitoring. She cradled the phone, telling him to be careful, all the while knowing he was likely breaking so many speed limits to get to the hospital quicker. “Just hold on,” she said, sighing slowly. While rationally she knew there was no holding the baby back when she decided she was ready, the last thing she wanted was for her to get there before Mulder was there to witness her birth.

“What was it like?” William asked, smiling weakly as he saw her jump. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You didn’t bother me,” Scully insisted. She reached for the cup of ice chips at her side, relishing in the cool relief it brought her. “I was just thinking your father needs to hurry up and get here. Although historically, we haven’t had the greatest timing where these things are concerned.”

“You’re talking about when I was born?” William asked, although he already knew she was. He shifted in his seat, pulling the chair closer to her bed. He pulled one of his legs into the chair, propping his chin on his knee.

“Yes,” Scully replied. While they’d spoken of their shared history during the months after they’d reconnected, they had yet to speak much about how he actually came to be. William knew he’d been loved, and the circumstances that warranted his adoption were dangerous, and for a while that had been enough. The curiosity lighting his eyes was proof positive for her that she’d now have to delve deeper into the story. “Well,” she said, chewing on another ice chip. “You were born in Georgia.”

“I was?” William asked, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. He’d seen flashes of his birth in his visions, of Scully and a dark haired woman, and he’d heard crying which he figured was his own.

Scully nodded, gripping the cup of ice tightly in her hand as she waited for another round of pain to subside. “Yes,” she said, glancing at the clock on the wall before looking at him. “Do you remember what we’ve talked about? About how dangerous it was then?” she asked, waiting for his nod before she continued. “Shortly before you were born, it became clear that we needed to get away in order for me to have you without anyone trying to harm us. We formed a plan, and it was Agent Reyes who ended up driving me to a secluded area in Georgia where we could hide out until it was safe.”

“But I guess that moment never came?” William asked, realizing perhaps a beat too late that he’d spoken the question out loud. He knew he’d lived with her for nearly a year and that for most of that time it had been safe, so in truth he’d only been referring to the circumstances surrounding his birth. Still, references to what he now knew was a difficult decision for her weren’t easy to process, and he wasn’t sure if they’d ever be. They were family now however, he knew that, and so he leaned forward in his chair, intent on learning more. He watched as her face contorted in pain, and carefully pressed a hand to her arm. “Do I need to get the doctor? I just saw a nurse walk by, I can--”

“No, no,” she said, laying her free hand atop his. She waited for her heart rate to return to normal and looked up at him, offering a smile. “This is all a part of the process. Babies come when they want to,” she said, sheepishly glancing at him.

“I wasn’t born at a hospital then, was I?” William asked, suspecting by her tone that the answer was no.

Scully laughed at that, the sound bubbling out from her lips a bit louder than intended, though at the moment she couldn’t have cared less. She had to admit that, while circumstances weren’t entirely ideal--she checked the clock again and debated calling Mulder to get an update on his whereabouts, thinking better of it because she didn’t want to risk a wreck while he was driving--the idea of soon having both of her children and her husband in the room with her was something she took comfort in. William’s poking at their history was something she long ago knew would happen, and she hoped not for the first time that it would feel less painful the more they talked about it. She took in the way he anxiously bounced his leg, clearly eager to move but hesitant to leave her side. “There is one thing you can do. Can you go downstairs to check if your father is here yet? You guiding him back here might spare some poor nurse from facing his wrath for not pulling up the details fast enough.”

If William sensed it was a ploy to get him out of her hair for a minute, he didn’t show it. “I’ll be back. Just,” he said, trailing off as he pointed a finger in her direction, mouth poised to speak but thinking better of it. “Just...I’ll be right back.”

Not long after Mulder arrived, Scully was whisked into delivery. The process wasn’t fast, but before long she gave birth to a happy (and healthy, judging by the high pitched cries that echoed through the room) girl. Mulder had apologized for taking so long, but cradling their new child in her arms, Scully insisted that it didn’t matter. He’d managed to get there in time, and that was what counted.

“She’s got your nose, Mulder,” Scully said, laughing as she traced it with her fingertip.

Mulder reached out, feeling his stomach flutter as his daughter’s tiny hand curled around his thumb. “But your coloring,” he mused, swallowing as he glanced back up at her. “I guess that runs in the family.”

At that, Scully looked up, furrowing her brow as she scanned the room. Since they’d moved her to a private suite she’d seen William briefly, but had been more occupied on bonding with the new baby than keeping an eye on his whereabouts. “Where did he go?”

“He bummed a few bucks off me and said he was going downstairs for a bite to eat,” Mulder replied with a shrug. “Although I get the feeling he also just wanted a few minutes,” he continued. He didn’t want to dampen the mood, but he was also pretty sure similar thoughts were going through her head.

“Today’s been a long day for everyone,” Scully mused, pressing a kiss to the soft skin of her daughter’s face. She adjusted the pink cap on her head and smiled, sniffing as she fought to control the well of emotions she felt churning inside. “I forgot they made hats this small.”

“You still have a few from when William was a baby, don’t you?” Mulder asked, thinking of the boxes that had been carried into the house after the years they’d spent stored in Maggie’s attic. At her nod, he carefully sat next to her on the hospital bed, placing an arm around her shoulders. “He wasn’t this little, was he? She’s like a doll.”

“He was,” she replied, her voice little more than a whisper. Since William had barrelled back into their lives, they’d made attempts at getting to know him better and in turn hopefully letting him know them as well. Still, until more recently, the subject of his time under their care had been carefully avoided, for fear of pressing too much too soon. They had made it clear he was welcome and that he always would be, but as Scully felt the baby squirming in her arms, she felt a lump growing in her throat at remembering the times she’d held William at this stage. Giving him time seemed like a good idea, although she couldn’t help wishing he knew how far their welcome for him extended. Yes, he knew she loved him and yes, they’d gotten past the awkward beginning stages of their newfound relationship, but she wondered if she’d ever stop feeling as if she was walking on eggshells each time they happened to be in the same room.

As if he’d heard her--and, Scully thought upon seeing his face smile meekly from the doorway, perhaps he had--William knocked softly before slowly entering the room, careful to not shut the door too harshly behind him. “I, uh, sort of got something when I was downstairs,” he said, pulling a small vase secured with a pink ribbon containing tulips from behind his back. He held it out, not exactly shaking but not holding it steady either. “The gift shop didn’t have a lot that looked good, and balloons didn’t seem right. The pink ones are for good wishes, and the white for innocence. Purity, I guess. I don’t know, I just thought it was good for...her,” he stammered, awkwardly placing them on the table at Scully’s side before stepping away and focusing intently on his shoes.

Scully looked to Mulder, her mouth hanging open, but when he didn’t speak she cleared her throat and waited until William looked up at her to say anything. “They’re beautiful, Will. Thank you.”

William nodded, feeling a bit out of his element but also grateful his gift had the intended reaction. His first week’s living under their roof hadn’t exactly been easy. They’d had to work through a lot, had to fight for trust on both sides, but he knew now how much she cared for him--how much they both did. He still didn’t understand everything about why he could do the things he could, and what purpose his abilities served, but the more time he spent around them, the more he started thinking that even if it didn’t all make sense, his abilities weren’t all bad. Before he had a chance to contemplate it further, he heard Scully calling his name. “Sorry, what?”

“I asked if you wanted to hold her,” Scully replied, gesturing to the now awake baby in her arms. He’d been supportive in the weeks leading up to her giving birth, had jumped up to clean the kitchen after dinner or down to the basement to take care of the laundry, but William had never outright voiced much of an opinion about the situation. She hadn’t wanted to push the issue, and if he didn’t want to hold the baby she wasn’t going to force him, but if this was going to work, she at the very least wanted to try.

William risked a glance, appearing vaguely interested, but he jumped back at hearing the baby whimper. An image flowed through his head unbidden of a hotel room months ago, and of him jutting his head out just so in an effort to cause severe pain if not worse on those intent on capturing him. Since the night at the docks, they hadn’t heard a word from the soldiers who’d tried hunting him down, and he hoped that wouldn’t change. Still, he could do things no one could explain in ways that didn’t make sense, things that admittedly scared him at times. If he was careful and if he kept his cool everything would be fine, but what if the time came when he couldn’t control it? Rationally, he knew it was all nonsense and he knew he was fine, but he still had to fight to tamper down the doubts he felt stirring inside. “I don’t want to hurt her,” he said.

“You’re not going to,” Mulder insisted, hopping up from his position at Scully’s side. He rounded the bed, taking hold of William’s shoulders, only having to push a little to lead him to a chair where he could sit comfortably. “Babies aren’t scary,” Mulder replied, raising his eyebrows in a silent question to Scully before carefully lifting his daughter from her arms. His daughter, he thought, feeling himself get a little choked up. In spite of all the crazy things that had happened in the years leading up to this moment, Mulder stared lovingly down at his little girl’s face before focusing back on William, and he felt grateful for it. “Do you want to try? You don’t have to, but you can if you want.”

“Sure, I guess,” William replied, shifting so he could rest his elbow on the arm of the chair, thinking the position might be more comfortable for holding her. He still didn’t know if him holding an actual baby was the brightest idea, but they both seemed okay with it and if he was being honest, he was curious.

“Just make sure you support her head,” Scully said, carefully watching as Mulder lowered the baby into William’s arms. If she could have frozen time, she might have considered saving this moment.

“Hey, kid,” William said, laughing nervously as he softly cradled her head like Scully asked. “She’s lighter than I expected.”

“Yes, she is,” Scully agreed. She looked to the flowers and then back at them. “How did you know that, Will? What you said about the tulips?”

“When I was a kid, my mom worked as a florist for a few years,” he said, risking a glance up at her as he spoke. She didn’t begrudge him calling his adoptive parents mom and dad, because to him that’s still who they were. “We had to move. I was at the shop one afternoon when she was working with a pretty difficult customer. The lady started calling her a liar, saying she was manipulating the prices and didn’t know what she was doing. I saw she was getting upset so--” he paused, uncertain of how much he should reveal. Bits and pieces of his childhood had been doled out over the past few months, both from their careful prodding and from his simply wanting them to know, but he still felt afraid of letting things they might not approve of slip. “I...sort of made the vase the lady was holding break. Water got all over her shoes, and apparently they were super expensive or whatever. There was no way to prove it was me, but--”

“But they moved away with you before anyone could figure it out,” Mulder surmised, slowly nodding as he took the story in, mulling it over. If the tables turned, he knew that he and Scully likely would have done the same thing. It didn’t matter where they lived, so long as they were together.

“Yeah,” William replied. He shifted his attention back onto the baby who was apparently content in his arms. His sister, he thought, just as he felt a flicker of something tickling the back of his mind. As he looked down at her, he knew it was impossible but wondered if the feeling had come from her. Then again, he wondered, maybe the whole abilities thing ran in the family, although he figured it was too soon to tell. He tightened his arms around her, feeling an odd sense of protection wash over him, and coughed as he looked back up at Scully. “What did you guys name her?”

“We’re not completely decided on that yet. There’s a few we’re debating, but right now it’s Olivia,” Scully replied, her focus landing on the infant’s face. She remembered staring at William as a baby, having already decided on the name before he was born but wondering if it would fit, not knowing at the time that for years he’d go by another. They’d lost him once, more than that if they were splitting hairs, and she planned on doing whatever she could to make sure it wouldn’t ever happen again.

“Olivia? I kind of like it,” William replied, nodding as he mulled it over in his head. He waited for the tickle of recognition again and was almost disappointed when it didn’t happen. Maybe he’d imagined it the first time, he figured, but either way he felt the baby’s slight weight in his arms and thought about how he felt more part of a family than he had in a long time. “Listen, there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you guys about.”

Scully raised a hand to her chest where her cross necklace would’ve been, had they not insisted she remove it before taking her into surgery. She rubbed at the spot of her chest it would have rested instead, fearing whatever his next words might be. They’d settled into a good rhythm, she and Mulder and William, and now their new baby girl. She didn’t want to imagine what life might be like if he decided he no longer wanted what they had to offer. “What is it?”

“I’ve been thinking about getting my GED,” he said, forcing the words out before he changed his mind. “The past year or so hasn’t entirely made it easy for me to go to school. And, well, I don’t really know what I wanna do with my life or whatever, but I kinda figured that if I wanted to do anything past this point, I need to at least say I finished my classes.”

Scully released the breath she was holding, slowly moving her hand to rest back in her lap. Whatever she’d expected, it certainly hadn’t been that.

William shrugged, tucking his sister’s blanket tighter around her as she started to fuss. “I know it’s not exactly traditional, but--”

“Listen, Will, your mother and I? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re not exactly traditional people,” Mulder replied. “I think that’s a good idea.”

“Me too,” Scully said, reaching her arms out for the baby when she started to cry out again. “She’s probably hungry. Come here, little one.”

Carefully, William stood, shuffling over to place her in Scully’s arms. Maybe they weren’t traditional and maybe it didn’t always make sense, but when they all came together, it seemed like a good fit. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned his head to see Mulder pulling the new smartphone he’d bought a few weeks ago from his pocket. “Do you even know how to use that thing yet?”

“Yes,” Mulder replied, defiant as he tapped the screen to light it up. He swiped the screen, cursing as instead of pulling up the camera he opened an app that started playing music instead.

“You sure about that?” William asked, reaching out for the phone. “Just hand it here, I’ll show you.”

“Will one of you just figure it out?” Scully asked, realizing only afterwards how harsh her words sounded. “Sorry, but she’s hungry.”

“Ha! Never fear, Scully, I got it,” Mulder said, triumphantly raising the phone to capture a picture and then another, well aware of the way William was rolling his eyes as he did so, but finding he didn’t care. The younger man knew at least a fair portion of everything he and Scully fought through to get to this moment, so he wanted to capture it, knowing Scully would likely berate him later if he didn’t. The impromptu photo session was interrupted by a subtle gurgling sound. He tapped the screen to make it go dark before slipping his phone back into his pocket. “What was that?”

“That was you,” Scully said as she turned her head in William’s direction, fixing her face into a look of concern. “Did you spend the money he gave you on the flowers?”

William hung his head, knowing he’d been caught, but also finding he didn’t care, at least not really. “It’s remotely possible.”

Mulder clapped his hands together and rose from his position by the foot of the bed. “Come on, kid,” he said, pointing towards the door. “I saw a sign by the cafeteria that said today’s special is pizza. Are you down for a slice?”

“Oh yeah, totally” William replied sarcastically. He stood up, briefly stepping into Mulder’s space. “You can’t call me kid, you know, not when I’m taller than you.”

“Whatever you say,” Mulder replied, watching as William headed out the door. “I still can’t believe he’s taller than me, Scully. You two going to be okay for a bit while we head downstairs?”

She nodded as the baby turned her head towards her chest, her pink lips opening as she rooted around. “Yes,” Scully replied, thinking not just of the daughter nestled safely in her arms but also of Mulder and William, who was waiting down the hall. They’d made it here, in spite or perhaps because of everything thrown their way. No matter what happened in the coming days and weeks, she never wanted to lose sight of that. “We’re going to be just fine.”

#msr #william #otp and their kids #txf #fanfic #domestic fluff ftw i guess #i'm not a hundred percent sold on the name I used but I kind of like it #kind of #anyway #they deserve all the happiness in the world

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tatooedlaura-blog · 6 years

Text

The Chip

This third series reads as follows:

Shattered … Desolation … Determination … Us and Ours … Ratty Towels … The Sleepover … Skinner and the Punch … Oregon … Impossibilities … Something from Nothing … Out of the Car … Partners … News ... Never Replace You

@today-in-fic

First series … Second series

*********************

Christmas came and went, out of control and wildly entertaining as usual, Skinner part of the festivities this time around as well as the Gunmen, whom Maggie invited to dinner weeks before Mulder pulled her aside to ask her quietly if it would be all right if he invited them himself.

“Fox, I asked them before Halloween. Melvin is bringing the green beans, Richard the rolls and John some kind of flaming pudding that he guarantees not to set the house of fire with.”

She got a hug and a promise to do all the dishes that night.

&&&&&&&&

The day after Christmas, however, proved much different.

&&&&&&&&

He woke up on the balcony, standing barefoot in the snow, when Scully pulled open the door, “Mulder!”

Not replying, his teeth clenched too tight to move, he barely got his head turned in her direction before he felt her pulling him inside, not feeling the hands on him but sensing the movement, the stumbling, the landing on the living room floor, face bouncing against the carpet given his arms were frozen in place at his sides.

“Mulder! Mulder! Wake up! Mulder, please!!” She must have had her hands on him somewhere, rolling him over, because suddenly the room rotated, carpet exchanged for her terrified face, eyes frightened, cheeks pale, “Mulder! What’s wrong?!”

Like fighting through broken glass and hardening cement, he concentrated all his scattered thoughts, his fragmented letters into, “cold.”

It was only then that she noticed his deathly white feet, translucent hands and with lightning speed, at least to his unblinking eyes, she flew around the room, grabbing blankets, turning up the heat, back at his side in less than one sluggish beat of his heart. Alternating between rubbing toes and fingers after she layering several afghans on him, they sat in quiet, Scully not demanding and Mulder not offering until she finally noticed some color back in his appendages and his cheeks began pinking up, “you up for moving to the couch?” Holding his hand for assistance as response, she helped him stand, then move, settling beside him, “want some tea? Hot chocolate? Hot shower?”

“Tea … tea would be … good.”

It didn’t take long to make and by the time she returned, he’d burrowed into the corner of the cushions, shrinking, hiding, “let me know if it’s too hot. I can put an ice cube in it if you’d like.”

“No mention of ice cubes … please.” Giving her a look over the edge of the cup, his stuttering chatter of teeth banged the ceramic once before he put it back down, “maybe I’ll just hold it for a minute.”

With a deep sigh of fearful resignation, she asked him, breath carrying words rather than volume, “do you remember going outside?”

“If I remembered, Scully, I’d have come right back in. There’s eight inches of snow out there! I’m not an idiot.”

“Hey, hey, I never said you were.” Moving her palm to the lump under the blankets she assumed was his knee, “I just have a terrible feeling this has something to do with that chip in your neck. When that cold hit you, when you stepped into the snow, you should have woken up had you been sleepwalking but instead, you stood there for who knows how long and you probably would have stayed out there had I not found you.”

The stone heavy look he gave her froze her chest much colder than any winter could, “how did you know to come find me?”

“I had to pee.” Realizing implication, “I just … I had to pee and you weren’t in bed so when I finished, I came out to see what you were doing. I figured you were reading or watching TV.” Looking at the snow beginning to swirl against the glass door to the balcony, “I didn’t see you at first and I was about to go check the second bedroom but then, there you were.”

Not caring about spillage or breakage, he slammed the coffee mug down on the table, “fuck! This is just … fuck! … I’m tired of this God-damned ride and I want off!”

Ignoring the tea now spread across the table, she scooted closer, “we can’t take it out. We take it out and you get cancer and … well, we’re just not going to take it out so we need to come up with something else.”

“Aluminum foil collar?”

She knew even he couldn’t bounce back that quickly, “Mulder …”

“Either I joke or I scream, Scully, which would you prefer?”

Not a fan of either, she gave him a distraction, “so I didn’t tell you what arrived in the mail today.”

Still shivering, still pissed, he didn’t hear her at first but once she repeated, he stopped to think, “did we miss a Christmas gift?”

“Nope. We actually ordered it before Christmas.”

His face lit up suddenly, realizing this is exactly what he needed, “the ultrasound machine.”

“Yup. Want to take a look at our kid?”

&&&&&&&&&

Two arms, two legs, one stomach, one heart … two eyes, two ears, one liver, one brain … Pituitary, Thalamus, ten fingers, ten toes … two lungs, two kidneys, one spine, one nose …

Twenty minutes later, reclined slightly on the sofa, they both got first glimpse of their miracle baby, the size of a strawberry, the shape of one except for wee arms and fuzzy spots. They both teared up at the doppler of the baby’s heartbeat and Scully confirmed, Mulder holding the wand to her gelled up belly, the she was 99% sure there was only one kid in there and from what she could tell, it had a head.

“And you’re sure you went to medical school?”

“I slept through some of it but I got the general gist: Oxygen equals life, sex makes baby, when in doubt, Neosporin and a Bandaid can cure almost anything.”

Giving her a Mulder grin, “can we get a picture of our strawberry with a possible head on it?”

She would have swatted him had she felt like it, “well, it doesn’t have a printer but I can save it and have the Gunmen print it out.”

Making sure she had saved the shot, they stared at their blob for another minute, then shut the machine down, cleaned Scully up, then remained in the dark on the couch, “are you feeling better?”

“I’m not cold if that’s what you mean and I’m a lot calmer than I was ‘cause we got to see Berry there but that doesn’t explain anything else.” Flopping backwards, cushion cradling his bones, “why would they want to chip me now? This is the most stable, happy, non-let’s take down the government and all its conspiratorial shit that I’ve ever been. What the hell, Scully, I mean, I’m actually happy … I’m happy and you’re happy and honestly, if somebody told me right now if I quit, we could take our chips out, no consequence, I’d do it in a Goddamned heartbeat … less than actually. By the time they’d finished saying the offer, I would’ve clawed that motherfucker out of my neck and handed it to them!”

Tugging at his elbow, then shoulder, she got him to slide sideways, lay his head on her lap, “and then I could have used my Neosporin and a Band-aid knowledge.”

Mulder groaned into her thigh, “am I going to have to handcuff myself to the bed every night and have you hide the key? Do I have to have Frohike implant his own tracker on me so when I wander off next time, you can find me? Should we install an alarm that wakes the dead if I try to leave the house?” Fingers cracking as he made a fist, frustration taken out on five innocent phalanges, “what’s going to happen when I go out of town? Do I have to sleep with Skinner tethered to me?”

As she ran one hand through his hair while the other unfurled his digits, she gently reminded him that the situation wasn’t new to either of them, “I’ve been doing okay so far.”

“You nearly died on that bridge?!”

“But you found me.”

“Not quick enough though.” Studying her upside down, her eyes soft as they surveyed him chin to crown, “I can’t have you worrying about me. You don’t need any more stress. I cause enough by just existing.”

Not hearing the slightest bit of levity in his comment, she curled over him, kissing his nose, whispering to him so no one could possibly overhear, read her lips, “we will talk to the boys tomorrow about trackers for both of us.” Sitting back up, paranoia reaching unheard of levels instantly, “why don’t we just get some sleep? I’m sure you’ll feel better in the morning.”

His trusting Scully was disappearing more and more every second.

#msr #scattered thoughts and fragmented letters #stuttering chatter of teeth #that damn chip #xf fanfic #xfiles fanfic #my writing #Life part 3 series

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tsurumitokushiro · 7 years

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Get to Know Me Tag

RULES: Answer these 92 statements and tag 20 people

I was tagged by @droid-to-the-world, thank you so much my dude!!! I love these things

I’m gonna put it under a cut bc it’s long

LAST:

1. Drink: a strawberry kiwi Capri Sun

2. Phone Call: my grandma

3. Text message: my dad

4. Song you listened to: Reunion of Friends by John Williams

5. Time you cried: I cry like every day so not a clue

HAVE YOU:

6. Dated someone twice: djhgdjghd I’m a single pringle I’ve never dated before

7. Kissed someone and regretted it: nope

8. Been cheated on: nope

9. Lost someone special: yes

10: Been depressed: of course

11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: I'm under 21 and am kinda responsible so no

LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS:

12-14. Sapphire blue, mint green, mango yellow

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU:

15. Made new friends: yup!

16. Fallen out of love: sort of?

17. Laughed until you cried: yessss

18. Found out someone was talking about you: yes

19. Found out who your friends are: yeah?

20. Kissed someone on your Facebook list: I don’t have Facebook

GENERAL:

22. How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: don’t have Facebook

23. Do you have any pets: I have a dog named Lucy and a cat named Buffy

24. Do you want to change your name: yes, the name I have on this blog is clearly not the one my parents gave me

25. What did you do for your last birthday: I had a sleepover with my closest friends

26. What time do you wake up: depends

27. What were you doing at midnight last night: attempting to fall asleep

28. Name something you can’t wait for: the day that I get credit for everything I do for people

29. When was the last time you saw your mom: Like fifteen minutes ago

30. What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: I wish that I hadn’t taken part in the event that lead to an eventual falling out with a formerly close friend, because I didn’t really want to go to it anyway and I regret not staying home

31. What are you listening to right now: Angel On the Wing from the Wonder Woman soundtrack

32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: yes, multiple Toms over the course of my life

33. Something that is getting on your nerves: uhhh a lot of things?? Politics, shampoo, the fact that Kathleen Kennedy works for Lucasfilm

34. Most visited website: Tumblr

35. Moles: one on my left cheek, 7 on my right arm, 3 on my left arm, 2 on my right leg, 1 on my left leg

36. Marks: I have a giant scar on my right forearm that looks like a mole, but its’ actually a mosquito bite that I picked at for a year. I also have four scars further up on the same arm in a kite formation and I still don’t know what they’re from (I CAN TAKE A PICTURE TO PROVE IT, IT’S REALLY WEIRD). I also have bruises/scars from self-harm on the same arm as well. My face is absolutely covered in acne scars and pimples, as well as my chest and back. I used to have a really big, bright red/pink birthmark on my upper lip but it’s since faded. I have a scar from falling in gravel and tearing my knee open at age 4, too.

37. Childhood dream: Same as it still is. I want to be a writer.

38. Hair color: Brown, but I used to be blonde when I was really little

39. Long hair or short: Mine is short

40. Do you have a crush on someone: Sofia Boutella, Gina Torres, Eliza Dushku, Dichen Lachman, Daisy Ridley, Zoe Saldana, Gal Gadot, Lupita N’yongo, so on and so forth (they’re all celebrities, I haven’t crushed on somebody I know personally in a long time)

41. What do you like about myself: Physically? My shoulders. Personality-wise? Uhhhhhhhhhh my cheerfulness and leadership abilities

42. Piercings: Well. Long story. Let’s just say not anymore.

43. Blood type: not a clue

44. Nicknames: Spocky, Scully, Mulder, A5, Alan, Tina, Rosie (nobody uses this one anymore, Rose is my middle name so that’s what I was called as a small child), Leonard (I MISHEARD MY FRIEND), Ernie, Wash, Jim is short for James so I suppose that counts

45. Relationship status: Single Pringle

46. Zodiac: Aries/Sheep

47. Pronouns: They/them

48. Favorite TV Show: Doctor Who

49. Right or left hand: Right

50. Surgery: I had surgery last year to remove embedded teeth, and I will need surgery within the next few years for wisdom teeth. Beyond that, not sure if there’s any in my future or not.

51: Hair dyed a different color: I once got a green streak and I’m thinking about being a blonde again

52. Sport: BASEBALL

53. Vacation: One of my two dream vacations may be achieved this summer! I might be going to Riverside, Iowa, and then I want to go to San Diego Comic Con

54. Pair of trainers: all of my shoes except two are trainers... I’ve got blue high-top Nikes, and then 4 pairs of Converse (the other two pairs are some fancy preppy shoes and then sandals)

MORE GENERAL:

57. Eating: Nothing at the moment but I had ham like an hour ago

58. Drinking: Nothing since last night

60. Want: to feel more like it’s summer, and also my new frames to come

61. Get married: I really don’t know

62. Career: I want to write and maybe act. I’m also going to flight school after I get my drivers’ license.

63. Hugs or kisses: HUGS. I love hugs.

64. Lips or eyes: Eyes

65. Shorter or taller: I’m literally 5′1″

66. Older or younger: in preference, idk

67. Nice arms or nice stomach: Both, but more importantly, nice personality

68. Sensitive or loud: sensitive, I’m loud enough as it is

69. Hook up or relationship: Relationship

70. Troublemaker or hesitant: hesitant

HAVE YOU EVER:

74. Kissed a stranger: no

75. Drank hard liquor: NO

76. Lost glasses/contact lenses: thank goodness no

77. Turned someone down: yes

78. Sex on the first date: N O

79. Broken someone’s heart: I don’t know

80. Had your heart broken: no

81. Been arrested: no

82. Cried when someone died: yeah

83. Fallen for a friend: unfortunately

DO YOU BELIEVE IN:

84. Yourself: Maybe?? Idk

85. Miracles: not really

86. Love at first sight: not really

87. Santa Claus: nope

88. Kiss on the first date: no, not really

OTHER:

90. Current best friend name: Lila

91. Eye color: hazel

92. Favorite movie: DO NOT make me choose

I’m s’posed to tag 20 people but I’m lazy so

@lieutenant-sapphic

@mountaindyke

@wesleyknope

@chameleon-kirk

@friendraichu

@reaverattack

@sexual-kakuzu

@stevtrevr

@kira-nerys

and whoever else wants to do it! You don’t have to do it if you don’t want

#WHOOF THAT WAS LONG BUT FUN #oh boy #tag games #self harm tw

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fistful-of-fandom · 7 years

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92 Truths

Tagged by nanna banana 💕 @conversationinthehallway

Rules: once you have been tagged you are supposed to write 92 truths about yourself. At the end, choose however many people you want to tag!

LAST… [1] drink: coffee! [2] phone call: mom [3] text message: my sister-in-law [4] song you listened to: middle kids “never start” [5] time you cried: probably last time I watched “finding dory” [6] dated someone twice: no [7] been cheated on: no, thankfully! [8] kissed someone and regretted it: yes [9] lost someone special: yes [10] been depressed: not severely [11] gotten drunk and thrown up: yeah

LIST 3 FAVOURITE COLOURS [12] sky blue [13] lavender [14] lime green

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU… [15] made new friends: yes [16] fallen out of love: no [17] laughed until you cried: all the time [18] found out someone was talking about you: they probably are, but I never found out! [19] met someone who changed you: hmm, probably not this year [20] found out who your true friends are: yes [21] kissed someone on your facebook list: the only person I kiss isn’t on facebook

Read the rest under the cut because this is long!

GENERAL… [22] how many of your tumblr friends do you know in real life: none, but I would love to meet some of you someday! [23] do you have any pets: one fluffy dog [24] do you want to change your name: no, please don’t make me go through that again [25] what did you do for your last birthday: brunch with my lady friends and dinner with my husband [26] what time did you wake up: 7 [27] what were you doing at midnight last night: sleeping! [28] name something you cannot wait for: the weekend (let’s be real) [29] when was the last time you saw your mother: Christmas, but she is coming to visit me in three weeks! [30] what is one thing you wish you could change about your life: my location [31] what are you listening to right now: laura marling [32] have you ever talked to a person named tom: yeah [33] something that is getting on your nerves: work drama [35] elementary: Is this a question? [36] high school: yeah I did that too [37] college: loved it [38] hair colour: brown [39] long or short hair: long [40] do you have a crush on someone: I’ve had a crush on Fox Mulder for the past two decades. Although I am aware his heart belongs to someone else. [41] what do you like about yourself: I am kind and compassionate [42] piercings: ears [43] blood type: I actually don’t know [44] nickname: cass [45] relationship status: married [46] zodiac sign: gemini [47] pronouns: she/her [48] fav tv show: the x-files (I know, shocker) [49] tattoos: no [50] right or left handed: right

FIRST… [51] surgery: I’ve only had my wisdom teeth out [52] piercing: ears [53] best friend: dana (no, her last name isn’t scully) [55] vacation: NYC [56] pair of trainers: I have absolutely no idea

RIGHT NOW… [57] eating: I had cereal for breakfast [58] drinking: coffee [59] I’m about to: get back to work [60] listening to: I feel like I just answered this – still laura marling [61] waiting for: txf season 11 announcement (any day now... right???) [62] want: to go to greece [63] get married: done [64] career: marketing & design

WHICH IS BETTER… [65] hugs or kisses: hugs make me feel secure [66] lips or eyes: eyes [67] shorter or taller: taller [68] older or younger: older [69] romantic or spontaneous: spontaneous [70] nice arms or nice stomach: arms [71] sensitive or loud: sensitive [72] hook up or relationship: relationship [73] troublemaker or hesitant: hesitant

HAVE YOU EVER… [74] kissed a stranger? yes [75] drank hard liquor? yes [76] lost glasses/contact lenses? yes [77] turned someone down: yes [78] sex on first date? no [79] broken someone’s heart? you’d have to ask the person [80] had your own heart broken? yes [81] been arrested? no [82] cried when someone died? yes [83] fallen for a friend? yes and it didn’t turn out well

DO YOU BELIEVE IN… [84] yourself? yes [85] miracles? maybe [86] love at first sight? not love, but sparks that suggest the potential of love [87] santa claus? I’m not five [88] kiss on the first date? sure but no tongue [89] angels? not sure

OTHER… [90] current best friend’s name: didn’t change from when I answered this earlier [91] eye colour: blue [92] favourite movie: so hard to pick just one – jurassic park or empire strikes back

Is anyone actually still reading this? Tagging (if you feel like it and sorry if you’ve already done this!) @ohyayaseance @moonprincess92nz @starrynight-over-thepast @startwreck @notorious-igg @scullywolf @foolishheadstronggirl

#ask games #answered #about me #personal

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contrivedcoincidences6 · 7 years

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The Truth* Is In Here

*about me, on account of I was tagged by (the lovely) @edierone

Rules: once you have been tagged you are supposed to write 92 truths about yourself. At the end, choose however many people you want to tag!

LAST…

[1] drink: White wine [2] phone call: my mom [3] text message: my mom [4] song you listened to: Way Over Yonder by Carole Kind [5] time you cried: I might have cried when I was drunk after the tipsy rewatch. I got a little talkative and morose when it got late.

HAVE YOU EVER…

[6] dated someone twice: Nah I’ve only ever dated one person [7] been cheated on: no [8] kissed someone and regretted it: Nope only kissed one person [9] lost someone special: yes my grandpa this summer [10] been depressed: Yeah I was diagnosed when I was 14 [11] gotten drunk and thrown up: I’ve gotten drunk and had other problems with my stomach....

LIST 3 FAVOURITE COLOURS: [12] Royal Blue [13] Any other shade of blue [14] Coral pink

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU… [15] made new friends: yes (but not irl) [16] fallen out of love: never with a person. (with fandoms and characters? yes) [17] laughed until you cried: definitely [18] found out someone was talking about you: yep (always fun) [19] met someone who changed you: for sure [20] found out who your true friends are: yes but in a very painful way [21] kissed someone on your facebook list: I mean my husband....

GENERAL… [22] how many of your tumblr friends do you know in real life: none [23] do you have any pets: technically she’s my parents dog but I call her mine because she is my everything. [24] do you want to change your name: Never I love it. (though I’ve had some difficulty deciding about my last name) [25] what did you do for your last birthday: Ha not much. [26] what time did you wake up: 10:30am (but I went to bed at lik 3am so) [27] what were you doing at midnight last night: Reading this- Dark Seed [28] name something you cannot wait for: Moving home [29] when was the last time you saw your mother: January 5th [30] what is one thing you wish you could change about your life: I wish I could not be sick anymore I guess. I mean there is just too much to name. [31] what are you listening to right now: Well like right now now I’m watching Iron Fist but in general I’ve been listening to different radio stations on spotify (carole kind, bob dylan, fleetwood mac, 10,000 maniacs, Queen) [32] have you ever talked to a person named tom: I’m sure I have [33] something that is getting on your nerves: I was going to call bingo for the senior residents and was looking for a shirt. My Black Lives Matter shirt was clean and on top but I wondered if it was too political for bingo (and yeah it was) But then I got pissed that the statement ‘Black Lives Matter’ is political and I went on a short rant to my husband about how people’s lives and safety should not be political. [35] elementary: it was ok [36] high school: An exercise in torture [37] college: did two and a half awful years then gave up

[38] hair colour: Brown and red [39] long or short hair: Medium [40] do you have a crush on someone: Well I’m married but yeah if DD or GA were into me I’d be so on that. [41] what do you like about yourself?: I don’t know right now too tired to try to think of something. [42] piercings: ears [43] blood type: Oh god I can’t remember.... [44] nickname: My mom has called me ‘mrs’ since I was tiny, my dad calls me peanut sometimes still, and some have called me Clariceie [45] relationship status: married (2 years in June) [46] zodiac sign: Aquarius [47] pronouns: she/her [48] fav tv show: Oh gosh.... I just can’t even answer that. [49] tattoos: nope [50] right or left handed: right

FIRST…

[51] surgery: Wisdom teeth and hymenectomy (dont look it up) [53] best friend: Emily and Sarah (twins so...) [55] vacation: Manitowish Waters, Wisconsin (still pretty much my favorite place) [56] pair of trainers: Well I don’t remember that far back but the ones I learned to tie my shoes in were Pokemon with Misty and Pikachu on them.

RIGHT NOW… [57] eating: Nothing [58] drinking: White wine [59] I’m about to: Do some cross stitch [60] listening to: (and watching) iron fist) [61] waiting for: txf season 11 (I’ll die waiting) [62] want: My fuzzy socks (about to get those) [63] get married: Check [64] career: Minimum wage maybe a mommy someday

WHICH IS BETTER… [65] hugs or kisses: depends on the person & relationship [66] lips or eyes: Like my eyes or lips? Or someone else's? if someone else's whose? [67] shorter or taller: I mean I’m fine with my hight but I’d rather be shorter than taller. [68] older or younger: Than I am right now? I’m ok where I’m at [69] romantic or spontaneous: Depends [70] nice arms or nice stomach: Ug I’d kill for a nice stomach [71] sensitive or loud: I am so loud but also sensitive so not sure.... [72] hook up or relationship: relationship [73] troublemaker or hesitant: hesitant troublemaker (going with edies on this)

HAVE YOU EVER… [74] kissed a stranger? No [75] drank hard liquor? Yep [76] lost glasses/contact lenses? Yes both [77] turned someone down: I mean to a high school dance once but he was asking out any girl who was nice to him so not sure if it counts. [78] sex on first date? Nope [79] broken someone’s heart? Not that I know of [80] had your own heart broken? Yes but not in a romantic way. Broken by who I thought were my best friends. [81] been arrested? Nope [82] cried when someone died? many times [83] fallen for a friend? Yepp

DO YOU BELIEVE IN… [84] yourself? No [85] miracles?: Yes [86] love at first sight? Not in the way people write or talk about it. Maybe like a spark or attraction at first sight. [87] santa claus? wtf of course [88] kiss on the first date? Depends [89] angels?: Yeah but not in the way most people talk about it. OTHER…

[90] current best friend’s name: Zach [91] eye colour: Light brown [92] favourite movie: My go to is Oh Brother Where Art Thou

I tag @alittlemissfit @wholeperson @whatfallsaway @stupideffinbee @judas-mulder @pickingoutchinapatterns @mihosayuri @scully-loves-ruthie ! (if you’ve been tagged already no worries)

#questions

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greekowl87 · 5 years

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Fic: After Shock

A/N: I feel like I haven’t had time to breathe since I started the new job and my anxiety has made it so I haven’t been sleeping a lot either. I haven’t been writing either. So decided to rewatch ‘Wetwire’ after some friends were just rewatching and tried to bust out a quick fic. It took two weeks.I don’t know where my head took me with this. Taggin @90saolchatroom because it was one of her comments that started this idea.

P.S. I also make a reference to another fic I wrote called Sure. Fine. Whatever. Also, @90saolchatroom‘s headcanon was also the source of inspiration that well. Heck, she was the inspiration for these fics period.

P.P.S. No beta so mucho apologies for the typos. Between lack of sleep and getting used to the new job, I’m sorry.

Tagging @today-in-fic @baronessblixen @improlificinsarcasm

Scully was free to leave the hospital after a few days of observation with her mother dogging her at each step. She couldn’t blame her, especially after what had happened. Fears of trust and betrayal. Rushing to the only place where she thought she had left. Pointing a gun at her partner. Breaking down in her mother’s arms still grasping her weapon, afraid to give up control. She remembered feeling Mulder’s sad gaze linger as her mother soothed Scully.

The same moment had entirely had been mirrored months previously with Modell control Mulder and point a gun at her. The pain Mulder realized he couldn’t control his own actions. And then with her, she had shown just the opposite. Fear. True fear. What an odd twist of fate. In shared moments of desperation, both had almost shot their respective partners. Except for this time, something resonated deeply in Scully’s heart. A deep ache that hadn’t healed.

After many promises to call Maggie Scully in the morning and assurances that Scully would be fine in her Georgetown apartment, her mother left shortly before ten. The paranoia was still fresh in her mind, however, that was one side effect she hated from the entire experience. She could remember everything. Logically, she knew there was nothing to be afraid of but that would stop checking the locks on all of her windows and triple checking the lock on her front door. Satisfied that she was safe, Scully retreated to her bathroom to draw a long bath in an effort to relax.

It still bothered Scully that she could have let herself think that: Mulder had betrayed her and broken their deeply earned trust in one another. As she slid beneath the steaming water and bubbles, she flashed back over the past three years. Tooms trying to kill her in her bathroom. Duane Barry breaking through her living room windows that lead to abduction. Then to chasing Mulder down to Puerto Rico and staying with him even after news of Melissa taking the bullet meant for her.

Scully flinched in memory, a twinge of regret. It should have been her instead of her sister. When Missy and her mother had needed her, she was with Mulder, chasing the Truth with a capital ‘t’, finding her name amongst endless files that should not exist.

But in the hospital room, when Scully arrived at a vacant bed, it was Mulder who wordlessly held her hand in that empty hospital room and then hugged her as she became adrift with grief. But during all this, during these past three years, Scully had come to trust him more than she would have thought possible. But now that regret and anxiety lingered over her current actions. Had she destroyed it? What they had? What was there left to go back to?

Unable to help herself, Scully climbed out to tub, draining the water, and reached for her cordless phone. It was near midnight but she knew Mulder to be up. The man hardly slept. After she dialed his number and reaching is answering machine, she decided to get dressed and drive to Old Town Alexandria, her conscience weighing heavier by the minute. The midnight drive took longer than she would have liked and parking being worse than she imagined. She turned up the radio in an effort to drown out her thoughts as she parked the car. Scully could go back home and pretend she was okay for the next time they saw each other at the office on Friday morning or she could do something.

**************

Scully found herself in front of apartment number 42 with her hand poised to knock but the door was quickly pulled open. “I saw you parking from the window,” Mulder greeted her softly. “Couldn’t sleep either, huh?”

Scully tried to look beyond her tall partner and saw a reading lamp on, heard The Cranberries playing, and no blue tv light. “Um, no.” She refocused her gaze. “Um...I called and it went straight to voicemail. I was, uh…”

“Did you? I must’ve missed it. I ran out to get some food. Are you hungry?”

He stepped away from the entryway and opened the door wider so she could come in. “So no tv tonight?”

He lowered the volume on his stereo. “I thought I would take a break from watching tv, given recent events.”

She chuckled. “Don’t stop on account of me.” Mulder disappeared into the kitchen as Scully picked the book he had been reading up off the table. “I could tell you the ending to the book your reading, Mulder.”

“I thought I would give it a go since I remind you so much of the title character. You remember our conversation when you wrecked the boat,” Mulder laughed from the kitchen. Scully looked down at the library copy of Moby Dick fondly. “And don’t ruin it.”

“Some coincidence, Mulder.”

“I guess.” He came back out with two cans of soda and one hand and two plates balanced precariously on his other arm like a waiter. “I think I remembered. Beef and broccoli with white rice instead of noodles because you want to be healthier, sweet and sour chicken for me and one single egg roll for you.”

“Mulder, that’s our normal Chinese order. I wasn’t planning on coming over tonight.”

“Call it initiation.” He paused and shrugged. “I must have done it out of habit. Now that I have, we can’t let it go to waste can we?”

“I suppose not,” Scully conceded

“So,” Mulder began, passing her the plate, “are you feeling any better? Not gonna draw your weapon at me if the rice isn’t hot enough?”

“Mulder, please don’t. I feel bad enough as it is what happens.” She sighed, looking at the food. “I still feel ashamed.”

“Scully, you can’t let it eat you like that,” he answered. “You weren’t in your right mind. Just like when Modell controlled me. We had no control over the situation.”

They sat on the leather couch so close that they were touching. Scully moved slightly in an effort to make it less awkward. She shoveled the Chinese around on the plate. “I feel like I did, in some way. Why would it make me believe that you had betrayed me?”

“It prayed on our worst fears. I guess,” he paused in thought, “I guess my betrayal is one of yours.”

“Well, it’s true. I thought you would actually betray me, kill me...I can’t believe I let myself accuse you of those things.” She shook her head in disgust. “Mulder, how can you be okay with this? Be mad. Do something. Anything!”

“Scully,” Mulder sighed, “please don’t.” She set the plate in front of her, unable to eat. He sighed and took her hand without thinking. “Please don’t let us go down that road. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“How could you be so forgiving, Mulder? I pointed a gun at you. I’ve shot you before, don’t forget!”

“Did you forget I did this same to you not a few months ago?” And he smiled sadly. “And you shot me because I was out of my mind. You saved me, remember? Who else could perform surgery both with a pistol and scalpel?” She bit her lip and tried to pull her hand away. Mulder did not let her hand go. “Neither were you. So why do you hold yourself to a set of different standards than everyone else, Scully? I’m allowed to make mistakes but you aren’t?”

“I can’t afford to be,” she answered after a few moments. She gave up fighting. “I can’t afford to be because I have to prove just as much as the next guy.”

“Not to me, remember? You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

“But I accused you of…”

“You weren't in the right state of mind or have you forgotten? Let it go, Scully. Now eat something before your dinner gets cold.”

Mulder forced the plate into her hand and took a few bites of his own meal. After a moment’s hesitation, Scully followed suit. They continued to eat in silence as The Cranberries played. How could he be so forgiving of her?

“So what’s next?” She asked as she finished her Chinese. “For us?”

Mulder shrugged and picked up the plates. “I’m not letting you travel again tonight, that’s for sure. I know you just got out of the hospital, but it would give me peace of mind. And I don’t fancy your mother’s wrath when she learns you are out and about.”

“You’re no better than my mother. I’m fine, Mulder.”

He knew a losing battle when he saw it when it came to his partner. Her independence and stubbornness matched his own. “Well, at least let me drive you home, using your car and I will catch a cab back here.”

“Mulder, you don’t have to baby me,” she said.

“I’m not babying you. I…” Mulder sighed. “I just worry about you, Scully. And care. That’s all. I’d prefer you stay here honestly. I just want to make sure you are okay.”

For a moment, Scully let her guard down. Maybe she was still tired of everything from the previous ordeal or maybe it was more. Maybe she was just tired of more than the most recent life or death situation. “And what sleep on your couch? It isn’t necessarily that big.”

“I have a seldom-used bedroom, aka the guest room as I call it. You can stay there.”

“Mulder, I’m fine.” She stifled a yawn and wiped the sleep from her eyes. “If you want to mother hen me then come back with me to Georgetown and I will call you a cab. I just want to be in my own bed.”

“Fair enough. I think you may have wasted your gas coming out here.”

“I got a free meal out of it.”

Scully was mentally panicking. This was not going anyway she had planned. She did not feel any better about the situation. More than anything, she needed to run. Mulder reached for her hand again, and for the second time that night, he grounded her and brought her racing thoughts back to a standstill. “Scully, just stay the night. I won’t bite and you would ease my fears.”

“Mulder, I'm fine.”

“I know you are but I’m not. I worry about you, Scully.”

After a moment’s consideration, she gave into Mulder’s request. Not for her sake of course, but for him. She did remember Missy confiding how much her abduction almost destroyed him. “Okay, Mulder,” she relented. She held up a finger conditionally. “But only for tonight.”

“You got it, Scully.”

He had that boyish smile on his face and nodded towards her. “I don’t suppose you would mind if I run out to my car to grab my overnight bag?”

“Since when did you start carrying an overnight bag with you?”

“When you started to call me at odd hours to travel halfway across the country.” Something flashed in his eyes. “It wasn’t meant as an insult,” she added hastily.

“I know, Scully,” he said softly. “I’ll go make up the bed for you.”

She collected her shoes to grab her bag out of her car before taking the elevator back up to his apartment. In the back of her mind, since she had arrived at Mulder’s apartment, the entire ordeal felt off. She thought driving over Mulder’s apartment would ease some of her own worries and doubt but this entire situation was spiraling out of control. She did not know if she felt comfortable with that at all.

She turned the doorknob to find the door in Mulder’s living room open. She heard him moving about the rarely sed room. “I hope you don’t mind the clutter,” he called. Scully stood in the doorway and watched him. “Sheets are clean. The bathroom’s through there.” He gestured at the lit doorway opposite of him. “Can you think of anything else?”

“No, I don’t think so, Mulder. I can still go home and get out of your hair.”

“You’ll do no such thing, Scully. If it makes you feel better, I won’t say anything else about the matter.”

He adjusted the quilt on the bed and gave her one last smile. “Goodnight, Scully. And I’m glad you decided to stay.”

She bit her lip as he shut the door behind him. Scully suddenly felt trapped and at odds with the war of doubt that had been brewing in her head. Hell, that was the whole reason why she had made the trek to Alexandria to begin with. Now, here she was, a prisoner in Mulder’s rarely used bedroom. She could make a run for it and go back to Georgetown, but she was tired. Scully decided that she would likely have trouble sleeping even in her own bed and decided to spend the night and try and make the best of a crappy situation.

**************

The second time Scully woke up, she was disoriented and it took a moment for her to gain her bearings. The dimly lit alarm clock revealed it was 3:14 a.m. The unfamiliar bed felt foreign and she could not get comfortable. She tossed and turned before giving up and turning on the lamp. Boxes upon boxes surrounded her and in the dim light, she caught words like textbooks, photos, Samantha, and research. She shifted her attention and saw a dim light coming from the door that separated the bedroom and living room. She couldn’t hear the tv.

With curiosity biting at her, she got out a foreign bed and creaked the bedroom door open. Scully shivered and grabbed a spare blanket off the bed to wrap around her shoulders. She found Mulder wide awake lying on his couch, staring at some fixed point within his fish tank. The mollies swam back and forth and he sighed. “Am I keeping you up, Scully?”

“No,” she answered softly. “I just woke up. You know I have trouble sleeping in different beds sometimes.”

Mulder pushed himself up and patted the leather couch beside him invitingly. “Come sit with me.”

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I was already up, Scully.” He gave her a tired smile. “I can turn on a light or something.”

“No, this is fine.” She sat gingerly on the couch next to him. “I just have been having trouble sleeping since this entire ordeal. That’s why I tried to call earlier tonight. And why I came here.” She shrugged and Mulder tugged at the blanket fondly. “Sorry.”

“You’re fine,” he chuckled. “I remember having the same problem after Modell.”

“What problem?”

“The lack of sleep.” He crossed his legs and rested them on the coffee table. “Well, worse than usual. I kept seeing the gun and your face. More than anything it was your eyes, Scully that always woke me up.”

“My eyes?”

He nodded and glanced at her. “It is what you mentioned yourself. Betrayal of trust. I just remember the pain in your eyes.” Mulder sighed. “I know that this...little crusade of mine has cost us both.”

Scully maneuvered the blanket around her shoulders and cast it over both of them. Mulder smiled gratefully in the dim light. She brought her knees to her chest and rested her head against her bicep. “I know,” she murmured.

“I should’ve have protected you better,” he confessed softly. He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “The night on Skyline Mountain. The light. You were gone.”

“But I came back.”

“Because they decided they could bring you back to prove a point.”

“Mulder,” she whispered, “I’m not Samantha.”

“I know,” he replied. “You Scully. My Scully.” The way he repeated her surname sounded like an endearment. “But still...I can’t help but think that your sister would be alive if it wasn’t for me.”

The silence was deafening.

“Missy said everything happens for a reason, Mulder. One Christmas, when I was still in medical school, she came home. We went to Old Town Alexandria. Not too far from here. We had a girls' night. I was drunk. She was drunk. We both decided to do palm readings from this little place on the second story off King Street next to a tobacco shop.”

He chuckled. “You, Scully? A palm reading?”

“It was her idea and I was too drunk to disprove it.” Mulder chuckled again. “What?”

“Next time we discuss one of my theories, I’ll bring the whiskey.”

She smiled and moved closer to him to the point they were almost touching. “Missy went first,” she continued, ignoring his loaded comment, “and the fortune she had, well, it was a good thing we were both drunk.”

“What was her fortune?”

“Missy was told she would die young. The fortune-teller specifically said 33 years old.”

“Scully…”

She held up a finger. “But, in the afterlife, she would do her most beneficial work.”

Mulder recalled the night he thought about taking his own life during Scully’s abduction and it was Melissa Scully that had interrupted that horrible attempt. But it was her that made him believe Scully was still there, even if she was in a coma.

“Do you think she is watching over you now?” he whispered.

“I like to think so,” Scully replied. “But what was ironic was my own fortune that strikes a chord...well, at the time.”

“What do you mean?”

“We were both drunk that night and I haven’t actually thought of it until now.”

“What about it?” He moved so he could face her. After a moment, he took her hand and lounged backward. She fought him initially but relented after a few minutes. It was much cozier than just sitting on the couch. “Just relax.”

“This is very unprofessional.”

“Since when is anything we did professional?”

Mulder’s hand drifted to the small of her bag and she relaxed. His fingertips grazed her bare skin giving her shivers. He pulled the blanket up around them. She relaxed. “Tell me what your fortune was?”

“I would meet my other half,” she confessed after a long moment.

“Really?”

“Quit making fun of me.”

“I’m not.”

Scully nuzzled his cotton shirt and breathed deeply. The familiar scent of whatever was ‘Mulder’ wafted through her nose. As she reflected on the fortune she had been told, at the time, she thought it meant Daniel but now, after going through the past few years, and Missy’s prodding. Maybe it meant someone else.

“But yeah. False promises on soulmates.”

“I wouldn’t call it a false promise or false fortunes.” He moved a stray piece of hair out of her face. “Maybe you just haven’t met him yet.”

“Maybe.”

His fingers drifted up under her top towards the rest of her back. “It was the trust,” she whispered. He was distracting her. She couldn’t collect her thoughts. “I feel like, after everything, I can only trust you because you know. You understand. I call you first. Then my mother. Or my brothers.”

“So when you thought I betrayed you, you went to the next place?”

“My mother’s.”

Mulder rested his forehead against hers. “You know that I would never do anything to you, Scully. Right?”

“I know, Mulder.”

She licked her lips and kissed him before she could stop herself. Mulder broke away, smiled, and attacked with renewed vigor. Words were lost between them as useless couch cushions were pushed off and Scully gained leverage to straddle his waist. Wait. No. So many no’s flashed through her head but she could not stop herself. It was an urge to feel safe, to trust, and to know that someone was there for her. Mulder was that person. But she felt the rising pressure between her legs that came from Mulder.

“We shouldn’t,” she warned.

“I know,” he breathed.

“So much could go wrong.”

“I know.”

But neither one of them made an effort to stop themselves. “Scully, we can go a step further or we can stop this. I don’t want it to stop. Tell me what you want?”

She slid slowly off his hips and gathered the blanket. “I should, uh, go back to bed. I’m sorry for what just happened.”

“Scully…” he called.

She disappeared into the bedroom and shut the door, her last barrier to keep her from losing herself control. After the most recent episode with fearing Mulder’s betrayal and being prepared to shoot him in the face. But to her utter horror, Mulder was trailing her. The door opened with a bang and she jumped. “Jesus, Mulder.”

“Please, hear me out. Is it something I did?”

“No,” she breathed. “We just can’t, Mulder. I had a moment, that is all.”

“A moment,” he repeated. “That wasn’t a moment. You can trust me, Scully. I promise I won’t betray you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She brought the blanket around her shoulders instinctively like a shield. Childhood memories of distrust flashed in her head, one of the reasons why she became so private of a person as an adult. But here he was, invading her personal space just like he did the first day they met. He cupped her cheek. Her eyes closed as he gently stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Sometimes, I don’t know who to trust but I know, deep down, I always can trust you.”

“You can trust me now.”

Scully nodded into his hand. Mulder took that as a sign and gently leaned forward to kiss her soundly. The kiss sent electricity through every part of her body and unconsciously, she grasped both of his hands and held on tightly. Mulder deepened the kiss. At that moment, they were both lost. It was something about being able to trust someone with your entirety, body, mind, and soul, and not have to worry about any fears or repercussions. Just because you knew. You trusted them. The blanket fell from her shoulders. Mulder’s warm hands crept under her shirt and she shivered. They were so close to one another.

“Scully, please.” He sounded like he was begging. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”

She closed her eyes, bit her lip, and give him the slightest nod. He was reverent in his movements as he let his fingers trail down her back slowly as if memorizing her. She bowed her head forward and willed herself to move, to do something. Finally, she regained control of her hands and gently peeled off his tee-shirt. She saw the puckered scar on his shoulder that still looked fresh despite it being over a year old. He smiled slightly and kissed her tenderly. The first time Scully had let herself imagine this scenario, she imagined he would be much more vigorous in his efforts, almost like one of his films. But so fair, he kept surprising her.

“I know,” she whispered.

She walked them backwards until the back of her knees met the mattress. “It’s been a while,” she whispered.

“Same here.”

Scully felt all sorts of insecurity which she thought buried long ago bubble up. As if sensing those insecurities, he kissed her brow encouragingly and she relented. She pulled off her top in one movement and he swallowed hungrily. The small bulge earlier took on a new life.

“I know I’m not like…”

“You’re perfect,” he breathed.

She was tired of fighting and without hesitation, she lunged forward to kiss him, and then guide him back onto the bed. Like explorers charting the unknown lands, they began their newest adventure. He left a trail of kisses like breadcrumbs down her shoulder blades and down the valley of her breasts. She shivered at the soft touches from his lips. “I wouldn’t go that far,” she murmured.

She leaned back into the pillows taking him with her. “I’ve wanted this for so long, Scully,” he breathed. He took a moment to meet her gaze. “I want you to trust me. I want to be the only one that you trust. More than friends.”

“I remember, Mulder.” She played with his hair. “But that was then, this is now. Things have changed between us.”

“That little small town wasn’t that long ago,” he countered.

He was intent on just lazily kissing her right now. She didn’t seem to mind. “But again, neither one of us was in our right mind.”

He paused and rolled to the side so he could watch her. “The planets hadn’t aligned properly.”

“Not then anyways.”

Mulder propped his head upon his left arm so he could watch her. Despite the wall of boxes in the unused bedroom, he had left the sole window free and clear. The blinds were half open and she could see the streetlights and shadows dance across his face. “I know you said you were ashamed during your little episode but you shouldn’t be.”

“How weren’t you affected by it?”

His hand traced down her smooth abdomen in thought and played with the elastic of her pajama pants. “Hmm? Oh. I’m red-green colorblind and according to the Gunmen, it was something like that causing it.” He saw her raised eyebrow. “In one eye. A childhood accident or something?” He switched winking at her with each eye. “My right eye is fine. My left eye...not so much.” He opened both eyes and smiled. “I can still tell you’re hair is red, not green, but it isn’t as vibrant with both eyes versus just my right eye. Now you blue eyes? Those stand out. Isn’t that funny how that is a thing?”

She chuckled. “I can think of any number of reasons how you might have become color blind in one eye, though extremely rare…” She sighed at the sensation as any rational thoughts escaped her as Mulder found her mons. “Jesus, it’s been too long.”

“Good vibrations,” Mulder sang off-key, “I’m picking up good vibrations.”

Scully laughed at Mulder’s horrible rendition of The Beach Boys before she was silenced by one of his kisses. His hand moved with an independent mind of its own as he experimented with a kiss or a slight tug on her earlobe. Each new sensation caused her to gasp and move under him or buck towards him. “Mulder, enough play.”

His fingers dipped into the ‘v’ of her thighs. “Yes, ma’am,” he answered.

They awkwardly peeled away the remains of their clothes and with unspoken communication, they sealed their union. It was quick, awkward, but all at the same time, unforgettable. Afterward, entangled together like a sailor’s knot, beneath the lightly used blankets, they lay together. It started to rain and Mulder nuzzled her neck and whispered. “You can trust me, Scully...if nothing else, we will always have each other.”

“We’ve been some dark roads,” she whispered into the night air. Mulder coiled around her. “I fear it’s only going to get worse.”

“Mmm.” He vibrated all around her and she tried to pull him closer. “While it may, you'll always have someone to trust.”

“Where does this leave us, Mulder?” she whispered.

“We’re good,” he whispered. “We’re fine. Nothing will change.”

“We just…”

He silenced her with another kiss and she melted against him. She was tired of being unable to trust anyone and the weight of their work felt crushing in moments like this. “We’re okay, Scully. We’re going to be okay.”

“Do you trust me?”

Scully breathed deeply and tried to memorize the moment. Mulder around her. The unused bedroom that had become their private sanctuary. The rain outside beating against the window. The streetlights and the wind moving their branches. He pulled the blankets around them.

“Yes,” Scully answered. “I trust you.”

#xfiles #xf fic #txf #txf fic #early msr #smutlite #msr #msr fic #wetwire #angst #fluff #maybe #i don't know #mulder #scully #mulder and suclly

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startwreck · 7 years

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Tagged by @fistful-of-fandom, queen of life-ruining edits

Rules: once you have been tagged you are supposed to write 92 truths about yourself. At the end, choose however many people you want to tag!

LAST… [1] drink: water [2] phone call: co-worker [3] text message: a friend [4] song you listened to: The Cantina Song from Star Wars, because @damselindistressmya, @snowvitamins, @stellagibsonisalifeforce, and I were discussing how much Mulder would enjoy having sex to this song. You’re welcome. [5] time you cried: Frequently of laughter. [6] dated someone twice: no [7] been cheated on: no [8] kissed someone and regretted it: no [9] lost someone special: yes [10] been depressed: yes [11] gotten drunk and thrown up: no

LIST 3 FAVOURITE COLOURS [12] cerulean blue [13] gunmetal blue [14] turquoise

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU… [15] made new friends: yes [16] fallen out of love: yes [17] laughed until you cried: yes [18] found out someone was talking about you: no [19] met someone who changed you: yes [20] found out who your true friends are: uhh I don’t think this is a one-and-done deal [21] kissed someone on your facebook list: no

Rest under a cut

GENERAL… [22] how many of your tumblr friends do you know in real life: 8ish [23] do you have any pets: no [24] do you want to change your name: no [25] what did you do for your last birthday: I was on vacation. Watched the sunset and ate ice cream cake. [26] what time did you wake up: 8 am [27] what were you doing at midnight last night: Tumblr-ing [28] name something you cannot wait for: Epic reunion this weekend, my upcoming vacation [29] when was the last time you saw your mother: Few days ago [30] what is one thing you wish you could change about your life: hard question. not much, though I wouldn’t say no to a higher salary. [31] what are you listening to right now: the rain [32] have you ever talked to a person named tom: yes [33] something that is getting on your nerves: frantic end-of-quarter work shenanigans [35] elementary: done [36] high school: done [37] college: done [38] hair colour: brown [39] long or short hair: long [40] do you have a crush on someone: just fictional characters [41] what do you like about yourself: most things [42] piercings: none [43] blood type: alieum [44] nickname: n/a [45] relationship status: sweet freedom [46] zodiac sign: virgo [47] pronouns: she/her [48] fav tv show: star trek tng and txf [49] tattoos: none [50] right or left handed: depends what I’m doing (didn’t mean for that to sound dirty)

FIRST… [51] surgery: n/a [52] piercing: n/a [53] best friend: caitlin [55] vacation: not sure [56] pair of trainers: this is the most british question ever

RIGHT NOW… [57] eating: n/a [58] drinking: n/a [59] I’m about to: try to sleep [60] listening to: still just the rain [61] waiting for: this week to be over [62] want: plan adventures [63] get married: not anytime soon [64] career: data analyst

WHICH IS BETTER… [65] hugs or kisses: hugs [66] lips or eyes: eyes [67] shorter or taller: taller [68] older or younger: older [69] romantic or spontaneous: I don’t understand the question and I won’t respond to it. [70] nice arms or nice stomach: arms [71] sensitive or loud: sensitive [72] hook up or relationship: relationship [73] troublemaker or hesitant: troublemaker

HAVE YOU EVER… [74] kissed a stranger? yes [75] drank hard liquor? yes [76] lost glasses/contact lenses? yes [77] turned someone down: yes [78] sex on first date? no [79] broken someone’s heart? don’t think so [80] had your own heart broken? yes [81] been arrested? no [82] cried when someone died? yes [83] fallen for a friend? no

DO YOU BELIEVE IN… [84] yourself? yes [85] miracles? no [86] love at first sight? yes, but not necessarily romantic love. [87] santa claus? never did. I was a skeptical Scully even at age 3. [88] kiss on the first date? I wouldn’t say I have any belief systems about such things [89] angels? one

OTHER… [90] current best friend’s name: I don’t have a singular best friend. as you get old and people get married and have kids you realize you gotta diversify your assets to survive as the needy single friend. [91] eye colour: brown [92] favourite movie: Anchorman

I’m too sleepy to look at my activities and tag people but consider yourself tagged if you’re actually reading this.

#about me #ask thing #ask meme #quiz long #this successfully lulled me to sleep #quality bedtime activity

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allyinthekeyofx · 7 years

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The Truth is here!

Thank you @all-thats-left-is-the-heart for tagging me :D

Rules: once you have been tagged you are supposed to write 92 truths about yourself. At the end, choose however many people you want to tag!

LAST…

[1] drink: Orange Juice [2] phone call: My Mum [3] text message: My friend Jane [4] song you listened to: ‘Wonderful Life’ by Hurts [5] time you cried: My eyes leaked a bit when reading the latest chapters of the ‘Christmas’ series by @tatooedlaura-blog

HAVE YOU EVER…

[6] dated someone twice: No [7] been cheated on: Yes [8] kissed someone and regretted it: Yes [9] lost someone special: Yes [10] been depressed: Not clinically no. [11] gotten drunk and thrown up: Yes

LIST 3 FAVOURITE COLOURS: [12] Chocolate brown [13] Aqua blue [14] Mint green

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU… [15] made new friends: Yes [16] fallen out of love: No [17] laughed until you cried: All the time. [18] found out someone was talking about you: Yes [19] met someone who changed you: Yes [20] found out who your true friends are: I already knew! [21] kissed someone on your facebook list: Yes

GENERAL [22] how many of your tumblr friends do you know in real life: Two [23] do you have any pets: A cat and a horse [24] do you want to change your name: Only if it were to Mrs Duchovny! [25] what did you do for your last birthday: Besides being just old enough to forget how old I was you mean? I went out for a meal with my husband and our best friends and was presented with a life-size cardboard cut-out of David Duchovny (Who now lives in the bedroom!) [26] what time did you wake up: I’m a restless sleeper but I woke up properly at 7:10am [27] what were you doing at midnight last night: Sleeping [28] name something you cannot wait for: Season 11 - partly to get Mulder off that sodding bridge but also because I need to see more Gillovny promo fuckery! [29] when was the last time you saw your mother: This morning at around 10am [30] what is one thing you wish you could change about your life: I wish I had been able to have kids.

[31] what are you listening to right now: Music - ‘Afire Love’ by Ed Sheeran

[32] have you ever talked to a person named tom: Yes [33] something that is getting on your nerves: I only get to pick one??? Errrrm the rift in the fandom. It makes me sad to see how divided it has become. [35] elementary: Too many years ago [36] high school: Ditto [37] college: I got drunk a lot, lost my virginity (I was sober for that!) Made lifelong friends and passed all my exams with minimal effort!

[38] hair colour: Blonde (Natural)

[39] long or short hair: Long [40] do you have a crush on someone: In real life no. [41] what do you like about yourself? My need to create. [42] piercings: Ears, navel. [43] blood type: A + [44] nickname: Ally [45] relationship status: Married [46] zodiac sign: Scorpio [47] pronouns: she/her [48] fav tv show: X-Files [49] tattoos:Two - a blue rose on my left shoulder blade and a heart trace which turns into an X on my lower back. [50] right or left handed: I am actually ambidextrous although I write mainly with my right and draw mainly with my left.

FIRST…

[51] surgery: I had my ankle pinned when I was nine after a horse stepped on my leg. [52] piercing: Ears at thirteen. [53] best friend: Simon Marshall. He was my neighbour when I was teeny. [55] vacation: Cornwall [56] pair of trainers: I am a 70s kid - we didn’t really get trainers until the 80s and my first ‘proper’ pair were white with pink flashes.

RIGHT NOW… [57] eating: Nothing [58] drinking: Coffee (De-caff) [59] I’m about to: Disconnect the washing machine because a new one arrives tomorrow. Then post some fic. [60] listening to: Music [61] waiting for: My husband to arrive home from work to help me move the washing machine! [62] want: a twitter notification announcing season 11 [63] get married: Fourteen years ago! [64] career: That ship has sailed lol

WHICH IS BETTER… [65] hugs or kisses: Hugs [66] lips or eyes: Eyes [67] shorter or taller: Taller? [68] older or younger: Older [69] romantic or spontaneous: Romantic [70] nice arms or nice stomach: Arms [71] sensitive or loud: Both! [72] hook up or relationship: Relationship [73] troublemaker or hesitant: Hesitant

HAVE YOU EVER… [74] kissed a stranger? Yes [75] drank hard liquor? Yes [76] lost glasses/contact lenses? No [77] turned someone down: Yes [78] sex on first date? No [79] broken someone’s heart? Yes [80] had your own heart broken? Yes [81] been arrested? No [82] cried when someone died? Yes [83] fallen for a friend? Yes

DO YOU BELIEVE IN… [84] yourself? Yes [85] miracles?: Yes [86] love at first sight? Yes [87] santa claus? No [88] kiss on the first date? Yes [89] angels?: Yes

OTHER… [90] current best friend’s name: Paulina just because I saw her last. [91] eye colour: Blue [92] favourite movie: The Wedding Singer

I tag @guitargirl48 @scully-loves-ruthie @a-january-girl @thattimetheykissed

#that's all folks lol

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ghostbustermelanieking · 6 years

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whispering images (part two of two)

part one

s8 au: within, without, this is not happening, mentions ofinvocation and per manum (related to 5x07 emily). part of my series that i write as i rewatch the x files.

Summary: During his abduction, Mulder realizes that Scully’s daughter, Emily, is still alive.

---

A morning not long after Scully's ordeal with Mary Hendershot, she received a call from someone she really wasn't expecting to hear from. “Scully,” Gibson Praise said on the other end when she picked up.

“Gibson,” Scully said with surprise. She hadn't expected to hear from him, especially not after the resentment he'd more or less displayed for her during their last encounter. She tried not to get her hopes up, the possibility that it was about Mulder. “What's going on? Is there something wrong?”

“I'm with someone named Jeremiah Smith,” said Gibson. “He can heal people and shapeshift, and he says you know him.”

Scully felt her heart thud in her chest. “Yes, I know him,” she said quietly.

“He wants you to come out here, to Montana. He's been healing abductees and he says Mulder will be coming back soon. He wants to heal him, too.”

Scully felt limp with relief, terror. Mulder was coming back? Mulder was hurt enough to need healing? “He's coming back?” she managed.

“Yes, he is,” Gibson said. “And there's… something else.” He hesitated, silently, before adding, “I don't want to explain over the phone.”

Worry clogged her throat, worry and anticipation; she said, “Gibson, what is it?”

“Just… come to Montana,” Gibson said insistently. “Helena, Montana. I'll tell you where to find us. I'll explain when you get here.”

Any other time, a cryptic offer like that might have made her more suspicious, but Scully didn't have a choice. She missed Mulder so much it hurt. The lack of his presence still nearly physically hurt; she felt it deep in her chest, in the pit of her stomach. She couldn't give up a lead, no matter how cryptic. Her hand crept to her stomach, covering the baby. “I'll be there as soon as I can,” Scully said quietly.

She left her apartment half an hour later, just barely missing a call from Doggett to tell her to come to the Bureau on an urgent matter: Teresa Hoese's return.

---

Gibson called her cell phone as soon as she landed, directing her to an outpost in the wilderness. She drove with her hands clutching the wheel hard, jaw clenched, trying not to dwell on the possibilities. Mulder, hurt. Mulder, dead. Her head spun with the images in her mind. She offered up a quick prayer for him, her heart thudding hard in her chest.

Gibson was waiting outside of the cabin for her. “Jeremiah isn't here,” he shouted as she got out of the car. “He had to go help a woman, Teresa something. We haven't seen any sign of Mulder yet.”

Scully quelled back the rise of disappointment in her throat. “Teresa Hoese?” she asked as she approached. “Was she returned?”

“Yeah, in bad shape, I think,” Gibson said, shielding his eyes from the sun. “Jeremiah will help her, though. He's good at that.”

Scully nodded in acknowledgement, shifting her bag on her shoulder. She swallowed back her fear that Teresa was in bad shape, what that meant for Mulder. “Should we go inside?” she asked, starting to step past him.

“Scully, wait,” Gibson said, grabbing her arm. “Don't go in yet.”

Scully froze, pulling her arm out of the teenager's grip. “Why not, Gibson?” she asked, maybe a little coldly. Suddenly she couldn't stop picturing his broken body, crumpled on the ground. What were they trying to keep her from seeing?

Gibson hesitated, chewing at his bottom lip. “You remember your daughter?” he asked finally, gingerly. “Emily?”

Coldness coursed through her veins like ice water, her hands going stiff around the keys. “H-how do you know about Emily?” she asked, definitely cold now. Nearly frigid.

Gibson fidgeted, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “She's… she's inside,” he said. “Emily, she's right inside.”

The coldness inscreased, a harsh reaction that made Scully feel like she was going to vomit. Morning sickness, she diagnosed idly. “That's impossible,” she said icily. “Emily died three years ago.”

Gibson was shaking his head. “No, that's just what they wanted you to think,” he said insistently. “They made her sick. It was an alien virus that made her look dead. And then they took her away.”

Scully shook her head. It was impossible, it couldn't be true.

“Mulder met her during his abduction,” Gibson said, and he was starting to sound annoyed. “He projected to me. He wanted me to find her and make sure she was safe. Jeremiah found her, he—”

“Gibson, is she here?” A small figure pushed its way out of the cabin, darting out and then skidding to a stop at his side suddenly. It was a little girl. She looked up at Scully with a tremulous sort of expression.

At first Scully thought, Melissa. And then she seemed to realize all at once that this thought didn't make any sense. The girl looked like a little girl she remembered from a few Christmases ago, her serious face staring up at her from the hospital bed, from the floor of the nursing home. Her face was the same, although thinner and older. Scully couldn't breathe.

“Are you Dana?” the girl asked, twisting her hand in the hem of her sweater. “Dana Scully?” There was a glint of gold at her neck, and with a hint of amazement, Scully saw that the girl was wearing her cross. The cross she'd given Mulder before he disappeared.

Scully nodded. She felt unable to do anything else. “Yes,” she said softly. “I am.”

The girl—Emily—looked down shyly. “Mulder told me that you were my mommy,” she whispered. “He said you'd take care of me.”

A lump rose up in Scully's throat until she was absolutely certain she was going to cry. “Yes,” she whispered, too, tears rolling down her face. “I will. I promise.”

Emily looked up, gingerly, before running at her, throwing her arms around her waist and burying her head in her stomach. Scully wrapped her arms around her daughter tightly, stifling sobs as she held her close. “Emily?” she whispered, questioningly, and Emily nodded, her tearstained face against her blouse. “Oh my god,” Scully whispered. “I’m so sorry, sweetie.” She was suddenly unable to do anything but apologize to her daughter who she'd let go. Who she never would've found if it weren't for… “I’m so sorry,” she said again, cupping the back of her head with one hand and wiping her eyes with the other. “I thought you were dead. I never would’ve let them take you away from me if I’d known.”

“T-that's what Mulder said,” Emily said, her voice rolling with her sobs. “H-he said you'd be happy to know t-that I'm alive.”

All that time of never knowing that her daughter was out there: hurt, scared, alone. Taken to wherever they'd taken Mulder. She never should have given up on her, she never should've stopped looking. “I would've never stopped looking if I'd known,” she tried to reassure, her voice wobbling, but she felt like no apology was substantial enough. All this time.

Emily clung hard to her, crying against her shirt. Scully kissed the top of her head briefly. Gibson had gone inside—probably to avoid the tearful family reunion—and it was just the two of them standing in the ankle-high grass. Her daughter was alive. She rocked her slightly, rubbing circles on her back.

“We have to help Mulder,” Emily mumbled. “They're hurting him up there. He made them take him so they wouldn't hurt me.”

Tears flooded Scully's eyes again as she remembered: Mulder was out there somewhere. Mulder had taken care of her daughter, told Emily about her and gave her cross to her. They were hurting him somewhere. She let go of Emily, drawing back to kneel in front of her so she could look her in the eye. “You were up there with Mulder?” she asked, and Emily nodded. Scully swallowed back more tears and said, “Is he okay?”

Emily started to nod before reconsidering and shaking her head. “They were really mean,” she said. “Not just to Mulder, but to everyone else.” She wiped her nose. “He said maybe you could save him. Can you?”

Scully sniffled, stroking hair out of her face. “I'll do everything I can,” she said softly. “I promise.”

Emily wrapped her arms hard around her neck, pressing her face into her shoulder. Scully hugged her daughter. The two of them rocked back and forth.

---

Jeremiah didn't come back for a long time and Scully didn't leave. Emily drifted off to sleep a couple of hours after Scully arrived, sprawled out on one of the bed, so Scully sat beside her. Emily was too skinny, sleepy and malnourished, she noticed with a pang; her hair was long and tangly, the same color that Melissa's had been during childhood, more red than blonde. Scully combed through it with her fingers absently as she sat on the edge of the bed, nerves on edge. Her face was still wet from crying. She was scared about what Jeremiah would tell her, what she would have to face. Mulder's fate. Any of it.

Gibson sat on the floor near a staticy TV, watching The Simpsons. It made Scully think of when she knew him years ago. This kid who Mulder had thought was the key to the X-Files, who she'd never imagined having this much impact on her life.

“Thank you, Gibson,” she said, because she didn't know what else to say. “For taking care of her.” She didn't like having her daughter's fate in the hands of strangers, but she'd rather her be here, safe, then Jeremiah toting her around to abduction sites.

Gibson ate a handful of orange popcorn without looking at Scully. “She's just a kid,” he said. “I don't like it when kids get mixed up in this.” He was talking about himself, she knew. “Besides,” he added, “this place has TV and food, and that's a better temporary setup than I had in Arizona.”

Scully hated to ask—after all the times she had failed to help him, all the times she and Mulder had more or less used him—but she had to. She said, “You said you talked to Mulder. When you did… was he…” She didn't want to know the answer, but she had to.

Gibson turned to face her, his back blocking out the TV. He said solemnly, “He thinks he's dying.”

The words hit Scully like a wave; she thought she was going to throw up. Her hand stilled in Emily's hair, moved to clench around the blanket as she forced herself to ask, “Is… is he…”

“It's not what he thinks, though,” Gibson added in what she supposed was supposed to be a comforting way. “Jeremiah told me. It's a virus the abductees have that keeps them alive, even if they die. They'll look dead, but they aren't. And he heals them.” He waved a hand at Emily's sleeping form. “It happened to her, too. They gave her an early stage of the virus and used it to fake her death. Except she won't turn into what the abductees’ll turn into if they aren't healed.”

Emily turned over in her sleep, her forehead bumping against Scully's knee. Scully put a hand on top of her head. “And what will they turn into?” she asked quietly.

Gibson shrugged. “Aliens, I think. I dunno. But it can be stopped.”

Scully stroked a hand over Emily's forehead. “How do you know all this, Gibson?”

Gibson shrugged, turning back to the TV. “Jeremiah. Snooping. I dunno.”

“Are you saying that it's too late to save Mulder?” Scully asked, her voice a little sharp.

“No. I'm saying it's not too late. I'm saying he still has a chance.”

Scully looked down at Emily, sleeping restlessly on the bed. She could see her eyes moving rapidly with her dreams. It seemed impossible that she was here, alive. It seemed impossible that Scully could get back almost everything she had lost just like that. She put her other hand over her stomach; she couldn't help it. She was a mother and her children weren't dead. And neither was her partner. They might be able to save him.

“God,” she muttered desperately under her breath. “I hope so.”

---

The day was long and one of the stranger Scully had experienced. Emily slept half of the day, to the point where Scully was starting to get concerned. “She needs to go to a hospital,” she said to Gibson at one point, feeling Emily's forehead with the back of her hand. She was warm, but not enough to be overly concerning. Still. Alien healer or not, she needed medical attention.

Gibson shook his head immediately. “She can't,” he said. “Not until we find Mulder. If we leave her alone, they'll come for her again, and we can't leave Mulder alone, either.”

Scully bit her lower lip, pushing hair off of her face. “We don't have any guarantee that Mulder will be back soon,” she said softly, much as it hurt to say it.

“We don't have any guarantee that he won't,” Gibson said insistently.

Scully looked back at Emily, her too-pale daughter who she'd thought was dead for years, and decided. “She needs medicine, at least, and real food,” she said. “Will you be okay here if I run to the store?”

“We were the past couple days,” Gibson replied.

Scully rummaged in her pocket until she found her keys. “I'm going to go, but I'll be back in an hour or two,” she told him. “Make sure Emily knows I haven't… abandoned her if she wakes up. Okay?”

Gibson nodded, his attention already mostly on the TV.

Scully bent over and kissed Emily softly on the forehead. She half-hoped Emily would wake up so she could clarify where she was going, but she stayed firmly asleep. Scully left the cabin slowly, half-reluctant, but she did manage to leave.

Her mind swirled with thoughts the entire time she was gone. Mulder, Emily, whether or not he'd be okay when he'd return, where the hell they'd go from here. She thought she might could feel the baby moving, but she dismissed it as a nervous stomach. She couldn't calm down; her heart thudding during the entire shopping trip. She just wanted them safe, Mulder and Emily, she wanted to take them home. Wherever the hell home would be. She'd barely allowed herself to plan for the baby—it was still so early and she felt a tremendous guilt doing any of it without Mulder—much less having her six-year-old daughter return from the dead. She couldn't allow herself to plan now, it was too mind boggling. What if the state took Emily away, what if she had to leap through hoop after hoop and she didn't even get to keep her daughter? What if Emily was angry because of the new baby, felt replaced? What if there was something wrong with the baby? What if Mulder was dead?

She drove back to the cabin, feeling nauseous in a not unfamiliar manner after weeks of morning sickness. There was a car outside when she arrived, and she spared a quick prayer for the hope that Emily and Gibson were still safe.

Emily was sitting inside when she entered, at the kitchen table with her feet swinging, and Scully's shoulders sagged with relief when she saw her. Emily turned her head and offered Scully a shy smile. “Hi, Dana.”

Scully smiled back, wider in an attempt to reassure her. God, it was a miracle that she was even here. “Hi, Emily,” she said in an unusually sunny voice for all the fear she felt, setting the grocery bags down on the table.

Emily kicked the table leg with a bare foot. “Jeremiah came back,” she said. “He says he hasn't found Mulder yet, but he says he helped some other lady.”

Scully bit her lower lip, squeezing her skinny shoulder. Towards the back of the cabin, a door opened and a man who didn't look very much like Jeremiah Smith came out. Scully stepped closer to Emily on instinct, but the man's face shifted before she could say anything, to the familiar face of Jeremiah. Her mouth fell open a little, her hand tightening on Emily's shoulder.

“I must ask that you keep a certain amount of discretion,” Jeremiah said. “I've been hiding out with a cult near here, healing abductees, and if I'm exposed, I'll be unable to save people.”

Scully looked down at Emily, who was staring at the tabletop. She squeezed her shoulder briefly before letting go. “Do you know where Mulder is?” she asked in a thin voice.

He shook his head. “But the FBI is here. Investigating the return of abductees. I had to sneak out Teresa Hoese just to be able to heal her.”

“You healed Teresa Hoese?” Scully asked, her heart thudding. It made sense that the FBI would be here, that would explain all the missed calls on her cell phone, but the repeated reiteration of abductees needing healing, appearing to be dead terrified her. What had they done to him? “How bad was she?”

Jeremiah hesitated briefly before saying, “If I hadn't interfered, I don't think she would have lived.”

There was a small whimpering sound below Scully, and she looked down to see Emily's fearful face. She wrapped an arm around her skinny frame and whispered, “It's okay.” But she didn't know that she believed that.

Jeremiah was still talking. “That's why it's essential that I am not exposed,” he said. “I must heal them.”

Scully chewed her lower lip. “You'll heal Mulder,” she said. “When he comes back.”

“Yes.”

Emily tugged on the side of her shirt, startling her. “He healed me,” she said. “When I landed. I hurt my ankle, and he helped.”

Scully was struck with sudden memories of Mulder's mother's illness years ago, Mulder's search for Jeremiah Smith. (It was still a little stunning to remember that Mulder’s mother had passed, remember when she had autopsied the grandmother of her future child. She tried not to think about it.) Mulder's half-tearful account of their trip to Canada, finding the clone of his sister that he was unable to save. She hadn't known Smith well, but she supposed she knew what he could do. And she had to believe that he could help them.

She offered Emily a small smile. “Thank you,” she said to Jeremiah, stroking hair off of Emily's forehead.

When she turned back to Jeremiah, his face had changed again, to the way it'd looked before. “I need to be going,” he said. “You can stay here for the time being. Gibson is in the other room. I will alert him if I see your partner.”

Scully nodded. She watched awkwardly as Jeremiah left, standing by Emily's chair until the door closed behind him. She had no idea what to do; she loathed sitting here and waiting, helpless. She wanted to be out there looking, but she couldn't leave Emily. She didn't want to.

Emily tugged on her shirttail again and she looked down. “Mulder will be happy to see you,” she said. Her eyes were the bright, clear, serious blue that reminded Scully of her sister and mother, her face solemn. “He missed you a lot up there,” she added.

Scully gulped so she wouldn't tear up and tried to smile. “I missed him,” she said, sitting across from Emily at the table. “I missed you, too.”

“Really?” Emily asked in a cautious sort of way. “You did?”

“Mm-hmm.” She took Emily's hand and squeezed it reassuringly. All the nights of guilt over the new baby, the grief over the child she'd lost. She'd missed her with a fierce sort of hopelessness; she hadn't thought she'd ever see her again.

She couldn't imagine what Emily had gone through—again, Mulder's family came to mind, Samantha and her diary detailing the horrible things she had experienced—and she felt an immense degree of protectiveness building in her chest, some maternal instinct. “Listen,” she said, looking her daughter in the eyes. “Emily, I want you to know… this is all going to be over soon. We're going to find Mulder, and then we're going to get out of here.”

“We'll go home?” Emily asked in that same nervous, shy way she'd been communicating, like Scully was going to turn her away, somehow.

She didn't know what the law would have to say about her adopting Emily. If she'd be able to, if they'd have to go through some trial period. But she didn't care about that at the moment. Her daughter was alive, and she was going to keep her safe in whatever way she could. “Yes,” she said. “We will.”

---

Emily ended up falling asleep on the bed she had before after eating dinner. She seemed exhausted, and Scully reciprocated, the fatigue from a flight and the other emotionally taxing activities of the day catching up to her. She slept beside Emily on the overlarge bed, partially out of a fear of leaving her alone and partially out of not particularly knowing where else to go. She slept restlessly, plunged into a nightmare of Mulder badly hurt on the ship somewhere. The kind of nightmares she had when he'd first disappeared. She woke up gasping in fear, running to the bathroom to retch into the toilet. Morning sickness, she tried to tell herself, letting her forehead rest against the cool porcelain of the toilet tank.

“Dana?” She looked up and saw Emily standing in the doorway, looking at her with concern.

Scully wiped her mouth before standing shakily and flushing the toilet. “I'm okay,” she said. When Emily shot her a suspicious look, she insisted, “Really, I'm fine. I promise.” She didn't want to tell Emily about the baby, especially not before she told Mulder. That was an explanation that could come later.

Emily had nightmares of her own that night, and Scully tried her best to calm her. She couldn't fall back asleep, so she waited, for news of what had happened with Mulder or for an instance where Emily would need comforting from her. No news came all night.

The next day, she continued to hear nothing about Mulder. Gibson reappeared from one of the back rooms to park himself in front of the TV. Emily watched with him some—she declared several times that it was boring there, although not as bad as the plane was (the haunted degree in her voice horrifying Scully)—but mostly, she seemed to want to talk. She had questions for Scully about herself, about her family and her job and Mulder. She turned the subject back to the fact that Mulder had apparently called himself her boyfriend. “He said he might marry you someday,” she said at one point with a smug smile, and Scully didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

No news for the entire day.

Emily and Gibson huddled in front of the TV as it got dark, Emily wrapped in the blankets Scully kept giving her because it was freezing. She paced the small kitchen area, on edge, her gun on the table. None of them had heard from Jeremiah all day, not Gibson or Scully or anyone.

The moon rose in the sky. Emily fell asleep with her cheek pressed to the fibers of the carpet. Gibson stayed in the main area, sitting with his back against a chair. When Scully gave him a questioning look, he simply said, “I think something might happen tonight.”

She honestly didn't know if she'd prefer that or nothing to happen. Her nerves were shot; she couldn't relax, much less sleep. She excused herself and went to stand outside, the cold air bearing through Mulder's coat, the one she'd been wearing since November. She shivered, burying her hands in the pockets. Her breath puffed out in front of her. She hated this, sitting around and waiting for something to happen. She'd been forced to do that for months, with no leads on Mulder. She wanted him back. She had her daughter back and she needed Mulder back, too.

She stared at the half-frozen grass for a few minutes before looking up, twisting her fingers in the sweaty threads of the coat’s pocket and starting to turn around. But she saw something that made her freeze in her tracks as she turned. It was Mulder.

It was Mulder and yet not Mulder, like he was only partially there. Almost see through. He didn't say anything, didn't move. He was just watching her, in a careful, tender sort of way. Like he'd come to say goodbye.

Scully watched him, too, refusing to take her eyes off of him. Every second felt too long, too much time not moving. Mulder. The word rose in her throat, but she didn't say it. She couldn't move.

“Scully!” The door slammed behind her, and she turned in time to see Gibson burst out, slightly frantic. “The FBI found the cult compound where Jeremiah is healing abductees. They're keeping him there. He says he has to go help Mulder.”

More words caught in her throat, things she wanted to plead for. Things she wanted to say. She whirled around and saw nothing where Mulder had been. Like he'd never been there. Something Gibson had said before sprung up in her mind: He thinks he's dying. They'll look dead, but they aren't. She remembered the feeling of Emily's life leaving her body as she lay beside her, but it hadn't happened. She hadn't been dead. Was it possible that Mulder had…

“I saw him,” she said breathlessly, her breath puffing out in front of her. She felt like she could sob. “He was here, he…”

Gibson touched her arm briefly. “Scully, we have to go,” he insisted, in the rushed teenager way he had about him. “It's the only way to save Mulder.”

Scully understood. She went inside and put Mulder's coat on Emily, carried her out to the car and covered her with the blankets before strapping her in. She wanted her to be warm; it was so cold outside. Emily never even woke up.

They were running out of time.

---

Gibson directed her to the compound where he claimed the FBI was holding the cultists, where they were holding Jeremiah. Scully saw the scattering of generic black cars on the lawn as she pulled up to the house, but no signs of Doggett or Skinner. She was immensely relieved; helpful as they'd been throughout the search, she didn't want to have to stop and explain what she was doing. The little girl curled up in the backseat.

She threw the car into park at the edge of the field with a heavy hand. “I'll go find Mulder,” Gibson said, in a surprisingly commanding voice for his age. “He's in the woods somewhere, Jeremiah is showing me. You go get Jeremiah and bring him out here.”

“Okay,” agreed Scully breathlessly, rummaging in her pocket for her badge.

“Don't call him by his name,” Gibson insisted tensely. “He says to not expose him. He says that's important.”

“Okay,” Scully repeated, a little irritable herself. All she wanted was to find Mulder, and yet she never wanted to see what was in those woods. She was terrified of what they'd find.

“Dana?” said a small voice from the backseat.

Scully twisted in her seat and saw Emily blinking up at her from the backseat. “Where are you going?” she whispered. “Can I come?”

“Sweetie, no,” said Scully, shaking her head. “I'm going to get Mulder, but I need you to stay here, okay? I need you to stay here and wait for me. Try to sleep. I'll be right back.”

Emily blinked at her in confusion for a few seconds before nodding and nestling back into the nest of coats and blankets.

“Okay,” Scully breathed briefly, before turning and getting out of the car. She hated leaving Emily alone, but leaving her back at the cabin would have been worse and she didn't know what they'd find here.

Gibson took off in a run towards the forest while she forced herself not to run up to the house. Running will look suspicious, she told herself firmly. The agents out front let her in after she told them she was with Doggett. She found a man who looked like Jeremiah's alternate face back at the cabin and hauled him out of the cabin.

She waited until they were out of earshot before hissing in a quiet, frantic voice, “Where's Mulder?”

“He's here,” said Jeremiah. “On the property.” He paused for a moment before adding, “We must hurry.”

Scully let go of his arm where she was gripping it and took off at a run into the woods.

She saw Gibson before she saw Mulder, standing in a copse of trees with his shoulders hunched up around him. “Where is he?” she called, nearly shouting, and Gibson turned. His face was nearly white, his eyes wide with fear. He looked the way he had when they'd found him after his brain surgery. And that was when she saw the crumpled figure on the ground.

“How bad is he?” she demanded, refusing to believe. “How bad is he hurt?” She heard the pounding feet behind her: Jeremiah. When Gibson didn't answer, she pushed past him. She pushed past him and then she saw Mulder, really saw him and understood.

“No,” she said, horror mounting inside her. He was lying in an unnatural position, crumpled like someone had dropped him. His face and arms were scarred. Gibson had thrown a blanket he must have taken from the car over him. His eyes were closed. “No,” she said, unbelieving. There was no way he could look like that, so helpless and lifeless and…

She fell to her knees beside him, touching his face, and then she knew for sure. He was so cold. “No, no,” she insisted, pleaded, a hysterical feeling rising in her throat. She wanted to laugh, she wanted to scream, she wanted to hurt someone. She couldn't, she couldn't lose him. She wanted to find that ship and burn it in the ground.

Jeremiah touched her arm and she whirled on him, almost hitting him in the face, her knuckles barely missing his jaw. He didn't move back, just looked down on her with the face she recognized, calmly. “Let me help him,” he said gently. “I can help him, Agent Scully. Just step back.”

Her chin trembling, quivering from head to toe, she nodded. “Please,” she whispered. She couldn't lose him. “Please.”

She stumbled away to allow Jeremiah access, but not too far. She knelt on the cold ground beside him and took his hand. It's okay, she told him silently, but tears were rolling down her face. She gripped his cold fingers tightly, trying to keep him from slipping away.

Jeremiah placed his hand on Mulder's forehead. His scars began to fade, slowly. Scully closed her eyes. She kissed Mulder’s palm and pressed her nose against it. She didn't let go, and he began to get warmer. She didn't open her eyes until she heard a shuddering breath, like someone coming to life.

When she opened her eyes, Mulder’s eyes were still closed. But his scars were gone, his skin healthy again. And he was breathing. He looked as if he was just asleep.

She choked out a sob of relief. “Oh my god,” she whispered, moving closer to him. She touched his face, his hair, the side of his neck where his pulse beat under her hand. “He's alive? He's okay?”

“You need to get him to the hospital,” said Gibson, the first she'd heard out of him in a while. He sounded sick to his stomach. “But, yeah. He's alive.”

Jeremiah put his hand on her shoulder. “I must go,” he said in a low voice. “I can't let them keep me here.”

Scully nodded, barely hearing what he was saying. She bent over Mulder and kissed his forehead, whispered, “You're going to be okay.” He didn't respond, but he was breathing. That was all that mattered.

She didn't notice Jeremiah leave. She called an ambulance with trembling fingers. “My partner is unconscious and needs medical attention,” she said into the phone. She told herself again and again that he was alive.

---

While the paramedics attended to Mulder and the agents fluttered around asking questions, Scully went to retrieve Emily from the car. She didn't want to leave either of them alone. They could ride to the hospital in the ambulance with Mulder.

Emily was awake, blinking in surprise as she approached. “Dana?” she asked, shoving aside blankets and moving to greet her. “Did you find him?”

Scully nodded, smiling a little with relief. She couldn't help it. So close, they'd been so close. “Mulder’s okay,” she said, wiping away a stray tear and smoothing back Emily's hair. “He has to go to the hospital for a little while, but he's going to be okay.”

“Are we going to go with him? Can we go see him?” Emily asked gingerly.

Scully nodded. “C’mon and we'll go see him,” she whispered. She took Emily's cold hand and walked with her towards the ambulance, Mulder’s large black coat dragging the ground.

Emily gasped a little when they climbed in next to Mulder, who was still unconscious on the stretcher. “Is he okay?” she whispered to Scully anxiously.

Scully nodded. “He's fine,” she said, trying to be reassuring. She could barely believe it herself, but he was. She smiled inadvertently. “He's just… not awake right now. But he's fine, I promise.”

Emily's mouth twisted a little, but she nodded. Scully squeezed her hand comfortingly, to reassure herself as much as Emily. He'd be okay. They sat together beside the stretcher, and Scully reached for Mulder’s hand where it dangled off of the stretcher. Emily let go of her hand and leaned into her side bonelessly. “My first parents died,” she whispered, and Scully shuddered, rubbed a hand over Emily's hand comfortingly. She still felt sorry for the Sims on occasion, their experiment daughter and their murders, the parents Emily had lost too young. She couldn't resent them; it wasn't a fate that anyone deserved. “But Mulder won't die,” Emily added softly. “Will he?”

“No,” Scully said coldly, determinedly. “No, he won't.” She hugged Emily a little from the side. “It'll be okay.”

One of the paramedics bent over Mulder, drawing blood. Much as Scully wanted to interfere, try to help them, she forced herself to hold back. To just be content with sitting on the floor of the ambulance holding his hand. He was okay, he was alive, and he'd wake up eventually. She would thank him for taking care of her daughter. She would tell him about the baby.

There was a shriek from outside, a gasped, “Oh my god!” A sudden blue-yellow light passing over the ground. The light from Skinner's stories of Oregon, when the UFO had taken Mulder.

Scully tensed from head to toe. Nonononono, a very small part of her mind protested; the rest of her went into action. She kept a hard grip on Mulder with one hand; she wrapped her other arm around Emily fiercely. Emily had her head buried in Scully's side—whether it was from fatigue or fear, she didn't know. Mulder breathed easily. She held onto them both tightly and shut her eyes. Whatever happened, she wouldn't lose either of them again.

The ambulance stayed still, not shaking, not flooded with light. Her heart thundered hard against her ribs. The screams were faint, far off. Maybe, maybe they didn't want them.

She opened her eyes again when the ambulance started moving, its sirens wailing above her. Both Mulder and Emily were still there.

---

They put Mulder in a private room at the hospital, thankfully. Scully requested a cot; Emily needed to rest. She tucked her in with the thin hospital blanket, brushed hair off of her forehead and told her to sleep. Emily protested vehemently, in the way of little kids, but she was conked out in five minutes straight. Scully smiled fondly as she sat in the chair provided, positioned between the bed and the cot. Motherhood felt unfamiliar, something she wasn't very good at, but she felt like she would grow into it. And she already loved her child—both her children, she had to remind herself—with a fierceness she found surprising. The doctors asked about Emily, and she told them that Emily was her daughter.

She got phone calls from Skinner, from Doggett. She answered, briefly, if only to reassure them that she was fine, that Mulder was fine and would wake up soon. They both seemed relieved, Skinner in a more overt way; she knew his guilt over losing Mulder had been horrible, how hard he'd been looking. He promised to come by and check on Mulder as soon as they got things cleared up at the cult’s compound. She sensed he wanted to clear things up about how, exactly, she'd found Mulder as well as check on Mulder, but she didn't really care. She didn't mention Emily to either of them.

Mulder slept peacefully. The nurses came occasionally to take blood or check his vitals, but by all appearances, he seemed fine. They did scans, as she requested, to check him for the brain disease he'd been suffering prior to his abduction, but she was praying that Jeremiah's healing job had done more than just bring Mulder back to life.

He looked fine, scarily fine. If Scully hadn't known what he had gone through, she would've thought he didn't need to be in the hospital. She held his hand in hers, refusing to let go.

She dozed off at some point, slumped in the hard chair. She didn't remember falling asleep, but she started awake out of nowhere at a strange sensation coming from her abdomen. Blinking, she sat up and put a hand on the slightest swell of her stomach, but she didn't recognize what it was until it happened again.

“The baby's kicking,” she muttered out loud to herself in near disbelief. After everything that had happened in the past few days, it seemed impossible. Mulder was alive, Emily was alive, and the baby was kicking. Her mouth lifted up at the corners in a small smile.

“What's happening?” Scully jolted a little bit before looking over at the cot. Emily was sitting up on it, legs crossed, watching her curiously. “Did you say baby? You have a baby?”

The baby kicked again, just under her palm. Scully smiled. She was barely showing—she’d been able to hide her pregnancy thus far under larger shirts and coats, people didn't often ask about it—but this was real, it was really happening. She decided in a split second. “Yes,” she said calmly. “Emily, a couple of months ago, I found out that I… that Mulder and I were going to have a baby.”

Emily blinked in shock. “A baby? Mulder didn't tell me about that,” she said in a half-bemused, half-surprised voice.

Scully swallowed hard, said, “He didn't know.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “But the baby just kicked for the first time.”

“Really?” Emily stared at her stomach in a skeptical sort of way. “It's kicking in there?”

Scully nodded. “Want to feel?” she offered.

Emily moved forward in a cautious sort of way, laying her hand tentatively next to Scully's. When the baby kicked again, she yanked her hand away, her eyes widening in surprise. “That feels so weird!” she said, giggling a little. “Why does that feel so weird?”

Scully laughed a little, too, the emotion bizarre considering everything else. “It feels weirder on my end, you know,” she said, and Emily laughed harder.

“Scully?”

She almost thought she didn't hear it. She turned, slowly, towards the bed, and saw him. Mulder was awake, half-sitting up, and staring at them both in shock. “Em?” he asked, a little confused, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand.

“Mulder!” Emily scrambled up off of the cot and went to hug him.

Scully swallowed hard, smiled through her tears. The baby kicked harder. Mulder was hugging Emily back, but his eyes were on her, full of questions. He was here, he was really here.

“Hi,” she whispered weepily, but she was smiling. She reached out to take his hand.

He kept an arm around Emily and reached for her with the other. He smiled back, a little shakily, a little confused, but very relieved. “Hi,” he whispered back.

#xf rewatch #xf fanfic #i wrote this

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