#I don’t know anything abt burn treatment soooo don’t think about this too closely

[thescullyphile]

Doubt

post-ep for 5x11 ‘Kill Switch’

The smell of wet leaves almost, almost masks the acrid tang of burned flesh and cloth. Their feet shuffle through the damp decay to the car, Mulder leaning on Scully perhaps more than he ought. They leave a mobile home, Esther Nairn, and the ever-elusive Truth behind them in a wind-whipped pile of embers and ash. The ride home is quiet.

Scully can tell the shock and adrenaline are beginning to wear off when Mulder starts picking gingerly at the charred remnants of his dress-sleeves. His skin is red, angry and blistering from electrical burns. He rests his cheek against the chilly window when Scully tells him to stop messing, ever caring in her no-nonsense little voice.

Overburdened clouds reluctantly leak as she walks him to his door, a promise of a later storm in the drip, drip on her medical bag. Mulder feels stiff and fevered, still reeling from his pseudo-real interrogation even as Scully sits him down on the creaking leather of his couch. Her doctor’s hands check him for a concussion, tethering him back to reality with the run of her hands through his hair. Mulder becomes cognizant of finally focusing when she cups his scratchy cheek in her palm. He knows Scully can tell that he’s checked back in because their eyes meet and she blushes, dropping her hand with uncharacteristic reticence. “Welcome back.” Her dryness is a facade for relief.

Mulder sighs and drops his head against the back of his couch in response. “Another one bites the dust.” He can’t be held responsible for questionable references in this state of mind. Scully just huffs and unbuttons his shirt, leaving him in his undershirt as she clears away the crackling fabric from his burned wrists. She lathers on antibiotics and ointments in silence as he stares at the rain through the window. Only then does he realize that she never turned on the lights, tending his wounds, save for the glow of his fish tank, in the dark.

Fever fades to cool cynicism as Mulder watches Scully kneel in front of him, wrapping bandages around his forearms. “I’m so tired of being left with nothing, Scully. Why does it always have to be a game of smoke and mirrors? Can nothing be straightforward?” He thinks of David’s dead eyes staring listlessly up at him.

Scully heaves a sigh and turns around, resting her back against the edge of the couch so she doesn’t have to meet his eyes. Her cheek flirts with the idea of resting on his knee, and when he smooths his hand on her hair she gives in to the impulse.

“Will there ever be any proof?” He is tired, pondering and not expecting a response.

“Only our scars.”

Her voice is not quite resigned, and they find comfort in resting against each other. He lets himself stroke her hair, wondering if it calms her like it calms him. “Thanks Doc, I don’t know what I would do without you.” She hums in acknowledgement and they stare out at the storm, waiting for it to pass.

#the x files #x files #txfic #dana scully #fox mulder #I don’t know anything abt burn treatment soooo don’t think about this too closely #hooray for me writing for the first time since Valentine’s Day