#xffictober2022

[the-spooky-alien]

Day 23 of Fictober !

Fandom : X-Files with the prompt "Not on my watch."

Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober2022

-

‘’Hey, partner,’’ Mulder said as he entered the room, with an ersatz of a smile on his face, something so forced she had to look away. ‘’What are you doing still awake ?’’

Her gaze fell on the book she was holding. She had thought reading Moby Dick might appease the churn in her stomach, allowing her to fall back into a world of comfort and familiarity, the feeling of being wrapped into her father’s arms. But the words made no sense, not when exhaustion kept prickling her eyes, and her father had been gone for too long for her to remember his warmth. ‘’I couldn’t sleep.’’

‘’Migraine ?’’

Mulder pulled the chair closer to her bed and sat on it, casually dropping a book on her nightstand. A flash of amusement coursed through her when she read the title. The Search for Bigfoot (Monster, Myth or Man). Did he really think she was that desperate for anything to quell her boredom ?

(She absolutely was. But if she was to pick up this book and read it, Mulder would be the last one to know.)

‘’No,’’ she replied, shuffling slightly, trying not to let show the nausea rising by waves in her belly.

His head tilted to the side, Mulder gave her a barely concealed concerned gaze. She was too tired to care about it. She had stopped feeling frustrated about his overprotectiveness when she fainted one too many times. When blood became the only thing she could taste, constantly swimming around in her mouth, its metallic hint making itself at home in her throat.

‘’What’s keeping you up, then ?’’

She shrugged, absently staring at his hands, carefully resting on his lap, unmoving. It felt wrong. Mulder was always moving, one way or another. But now, when he came to visit her, his body was still, like a stone. As if he was afraid to sap her own energy by moving around.

As if he was afraid it would remind them of how much weaker she became in the last few weeks.

They didn’t need the reminder. It was everywhere. She could barely walk to the bathroom, could barely hold a fork to her mouth without her arm shaking. Her whole body reeked of death.

She didn’t feel quite alive anymore.

‘’Nightmares ?’’

She didn’t understand why it was so important for him. But his eyes held a sort of pleading glint. Mulder was trying so hard to fix whatever he could, even if it was only helping her sleep a bit. If she had been more tired, she might not have had the patience to play his game.

But she had been lonely today, and she had missed him.

So, she mulled over his words. Dreams of the future haunted her sleep recently. These dreams and nightmares were the same now.

Cold.

Bleak.

‘’Something like that,’’ she muttered, watching as a small smile curled his lips. Sometimes, she thought he was smiling for her when he wanted to cry.

‘’Well,’’ he drawled, leaning forward, his tie grazing the mattress, ‘’Not on my watch.’’ His smile turned more sincere, one of his hand slowly creeping to touch one of hers. Without even having to think about it, she interlocked their fingers. ‘’I’ll keep the nightmares away.’’

His confident tone made her snort. ‘’And how are you planning to do so, oh my knight in shining armour ?’’

His eyes crinkled. For the first time since her diagnostic, Mulder seemed relaxed. Not quite happy, but not quite sad either.

Or maybe both at the same time. Both too woven together to be pulled apart, sad and happy, happy and sad.

‘’I might sing,’’ he said, pulling her away from her thoughts. By now, Mulder’s elbows were resting on the bed, and their tangled hands were pressed against one of his cheeks. There was a tenderness in the gesture that made her shiver. His words caressed her knuckles. ‘’I’ve got a very nice voice, you know.’’

‘’I don’t doubt it.’’ Her sarcasm fell flat, weighed down by the honesty in her voice. Mulder’s eyebrows raised, but he recovered quickly, sending her a bright grin. Fire erupted in her cheeks and ears. ‘’I meant- I didn’t- Of course, you have a nice voice, Mulder-‘’

The more she was talking, the bigger his smile was getting. She bit her tongue, clamping down on her growing embarrassment.

‘’Do go on,’’ he teased, ‘’It’s hilarious to watch you dig your own grave.’’ They both froze, the echo of his words like thunder in her ears. His face darkened as he lost his smile, guilt weaving its way through his expression. ‘’I’m sorry, I didn’t-‘’

She couldn’t hear him apologise for joking about her own death. Her grave would be dug soon enough. She said the first thing that came to mind. ‘’What would you sing ?’’

‘’What ?’’

His confusion never ceased to make her smile. This time wasn’t an exception.

‘’What would you sing ?’’ she repeated, relishing the soft pain of smiling big enough to pull at her forgotten face’s muscles, squeezing his hand once. ‘’To keep my nightmares at bay ?’’

‘’Oh,’’ he said, blinking, before answering her smile, his guilt disappearing so quickly she thought she might have imagined it. ‘’Elvis Presley of course.’’

She pondered his choice. ‘’Can’t help falling in love, I suppose ?’’

He nodded, a shy smile playing on his lips. ‘’What else would I sing ?’’

The implication of what he was saying hit her in the face. She stared at him, at the open way he was watching her, letting her see everything bubbling underneath the surface of his crafted composure. Underneath her fingers, in the slight crook of his wrist, she could feel his heart, racing and stumbling in its own rythm.

In a brief moment, suspended in time, she saw the whole of him, from his brilliant mind to his irritating habit to throw pencils at the ceiling, from his overbearing passion to his craving for love. His eyes glinted, his palm was soft on her skin, and he smiled, so gentle and loving, here with her through the worst moment of her life, saying he would sing the cheesiest song for her, if only to help her find sleep.

In a D.C. hospital, dying from cancer, she fell in love with Fox Mulder all over again.

Her eyes burned. It wasn’t tears born from desperation this time.

‘’It’s a nice song,’’ she choked, words struggling to pass through the feeling planting its roots in her heart.

Mulder smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her cold hand. His lips were scorching. ‘’Ready ?’’

Settling comfortably on her side to face him, bringing his hand under her chin, like a child cuddling its favourite plushie, she closed her eyes to the sound of his deep voice, letting it wash over her.

‘’Wise men say,’’

Letting him make her forget about tomorrows and her soon to be grave.

‘’Only fools rush in,’’

Letting him bathe her in all of his love, unrestrained in his feelings.

‘’But I can’t help,’’

She sighed against his skin, burrowing into the blanket of peace and safety he was draping over her. Sleep tugged at her, but she daren’t fall into its embrace yet.

‘’Falling in love with you.’’

Smiling, she murmured her gratefulness in his hand, giving it to him so he could cradled it close to his heart.

The last thing she heard before falling asleep, was his voice, gently crooning Elvis Presley’s words to her.

#txf #dana scully #fox mulder #msr #fictober22 #xffictober2022 #it's scary how i cant help myself from writing msr in the cancer arc #this arc has a firm grip on my brain and won't let be go #i hope you will like it ! #and thank you for reading !

[astridncs]

The Best Day Ever

-a little bit late oops-

Fictober 2022  — Day 8: Mulder and William have a day-out ; tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2022 ; also on AO3

--

“You sure you guys will be alright?” Scully asked for probably the third time already.

“Yes, Scully, we’ll be fine.” Mulder reassured her. “Right, buddy?” he asked turning to their four-year-old who was already bouncing off the walls with energy.

“Yeth, Daddy!” William exclaimed. He was all smiles and excitement that Scully couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Alright, but you have to promise Mommy that you’ll be good for Daddy.” Scully said, getting down to William’s level.

William nodded his head eagerly before saying, “I pwomise, Mommy.” He had a serious look on his face that Mulder would swear made him look so much alike Scully.

“Okay, well, you guys have fun, alright?” she said. “But not too much fun.” She added, looking up to Mulder who just winked back.

“Give Mommy a big hug, buddy.” Mulder instructed William.

William softly lunged himself into Scully’s arms and she engulfed him with a hug and tons of kisses that made him giggle loudly. It was one of the sounds that made Scully’s heart soar with so much love.

“I love you, both.” She said, pressing a kiss on William’s cheek before standing up and kissing Mulder on the lips.

“And we love you too.” Mulder told her, pressing another kiss on her lips.

Scully walked them to the car, made sure they all had their stuff packed – food, first aid kit, bicycles – yes, bicycles. They were going to a trail that Mulder reassured her was safe for the both of them. She trusts him so much that she doesn’t seem to worry.

She watched her boys drive away, waving back at William who was waving to her from his booster seat and blowing her kisses. When they were out of sight, she went back inside and wondered what to do having the whole house to herself for the next couple of hours.

continue on AO3

#xffictober2022 #xf fictober 2022 #fictober 2022 #fictober2022 #todayinfic #txf #thexfiles #mulder and scully deserves their happy ending #mulder and scully #William Scully-Mulder #william does not get adopted #fanfic #astridncs #skepticsculls

[atths--twice]

Chapter Fifteen

They Look Like They Could Be A Couple

Sharing the space in the morning after being forced to bunk up for the night.

Y'all... this chapter is coming in just under the wire once again. My plans for the day took a huge turn and I cannot believe I was able to get this done. I honestly think there may still be smoke coming off my phone. 😂

I hope you all enjoy this chapter. 💓

Scully stretched and hummed as she turned over, holding onto the pillow beneath her head. Hearing the shower running, she opened her eyes and looked around the room.

Oh. Right.

She heard something fall, followed by Mulder saying shit. She smiled as she moved her legs beneath the sheets and closed her eyes again, knowing she had a moment before she would need to actually get up.

She now remembered waking in the night, the feeling of a heavy weight around her waist. A sense of panic had filled her until she realized it was Mulder’s arm and she relaxed, as he breathed softly behind her.

Used to sleeping alone, anytime they were forced to share a room, there was always a moment of awkwardness when they would wake up touching or especially when he was pressed against her, his lower half making its presence known. He would mumble an apology and move away from her, even as she stated that it was a normal human reaction and to not worry about it, though his sigh told her he definitely was.

Sometimes when she would wake up, with him still asleep beside her or already up and readying for the day, she let her mind wander. She imagined how it would be if they lived together and she heard him singing in her shower or making coffee in her kitchen.

She thought of watching television with him, lying on the couch with his fingers in her hair, yelling at the Knicks game or reciting some movie he had seen dozens of times.

Then after… going to bed together to sleep or more often than not, to not sleep.

Those thoughts though, they were best left for when they were no longer sharing a bed, as they could lead to trouble.

Images of him loving her gently, adoringly, and more often than she would admit, with a firmer hand, made her flush and her stomach quiver. When she thought of the way he would look at her, his gaze penetrating and solely focused, her breath would catch and she needed to put physical space between them.

The shower shut off and she opened her eyes, swallowing and then licking her lips. Metal rings slid across the metal shower rod once, then twice, and Mulder sang quietly as she heard him moving around the bathroom.

“God,” she breathed, shaking her head to push away lingering thoughts. She sat up and stretched, needing to be up before he came out.

Standing to her feet, she tugged at his sweatshirt and attempted to smooth down her hair which she knew would most likely be quite a mess.

The bathroom door opened and he came out with a towel around his hips, the air behind him thick with steam.

“Since you’ve gone, I’ve been lost without a trace,” he sang, catching her eye with a grin. “I dream at night, I can only see your face. I look around but it’s you I can’t replace. I feel so cold and I long for your embrace. I keep crying, “Baby, Baby, pleeeeease!” Yeah!” He raised his fist in the air and nodded aggressively.

“It’s a bit early for songs of that nature, don’t you think?” she asked and he grinned again, walking towards her.

“That part in particular was dedicated to you. Cold, longing for an embrace,” he said. “Dreaming at night and only seeing my face.” He clucked his tongue and her eyebrows shot up.

“Dreaming about you?”

“You said my name in your sleep,” he stated. “I hope you were dreaming about me. And… I really hope it was a good dream.” He pumped his eyebrows and she rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms.

“Probably more likely that I was dreaming you wouldn’t hog the bathroom,” she said flatly. “Which you’ve clearly done this morning.”

“Nah,” he said, shaking his head with an obnoxious grin. “First of all, you were still sleeping when I got up. And second, it wasn’t that. I’m sure of it.” She stared at him and shook her head.

“Fine. Whatever,” she said, looking toward the bathroom. “Can I get in there?”

“Mi baño es su baño,” he said and she scoffed as she walked past him.

It was hot in the bathroom, the mirror half covered in steam as she washed her hands and stared at her reflection. Wiping the mirror with a spare washcloth, she brushed her teeth and washed her face, drying it on a towel and hanging it back up.

Brushing her hair, she saw it was not as mismanaged as she previously thought. A little water brushed through it and the hair dryer set to high speed, it was easily fixed.

“Knock, knock,” Mulder said, rapping his knuckles against the door. She opened it and he stood before her in slacks and a white undershirt. Looking down, she saw he was wearing boots, not his dress shoes.

“Boots?” she asked as she started to take out her makeup.

“I want to go to the widows rock today.”

“I’m sure it won’t be muddy or slick. Nope, not one bit,” she said, looking at him in the mirror.

“If you slip, I’ll catch you,” he said, winking as he reached for his deodorant.

“You’ll be the one to slip,” she said under her breath as she opened her face lotion and began to apply it. He grinned and she smiled back with a roll of her eyes.

They moved nearly in sync, reaching for things, moving out of the way, talking above the hair dryer when he used it on his own hair.

He glanced down at the counter when he had finished getting ready and then touched the bottles she had sitting out, picking them up and examining them, then looking into her makeup bag.

“Huh,” he said, setting the items down and meeting her eyes in the mirror.

“Huh, what?” she asked.

“I notice that none of those bottles contain green face goo.”

“You mean my face mask?”

“Yeah,” he said with a nod and half a smile.

“Because I didn’t bring it with me.”

“Just when we had to play happy husband and wife? Perpetuating the stereotype of the housewife in a mask, rollers, and a nightgown?”

“I don’t use rollers,” she said in mock disgust, shaking her head slowly. “How dare you insinuate such a thing.”

“But the green face mask is fine,” he said with a laugh.

“Well, yeah, as I do use that often,” she said, leaning closer to the mirror to apply some mascara.

“You do?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve never seen you wear it.”

“I don’t usually wear it when you’re around. Or if you are, I don’t call you over to see and discuss it. What would be the point of that?” She recapped her mascara and turned her head to look at him.

“But why do you use it?”

“A face mask?” she asked with a smile.

“Yeah. I mean… what is it for exactly? The end goal of using it is what I suppose I mean.”

“Well,” she said, leaning her hip against the counter as she turned to face him. “It’s moisturizing.”

“Better than face lotion?” he asked, pointing to her moisturizer.

“Not better, just different because of how it’s applied. It doesn’t absorb the same way as lotion.”

“Okay… what else?”

“It’s exfoliating, if that’s the kind you buy. It also removes excess oil and helps to reduce the signs of aging.” She shrugged and he smiled as he raised his eyebrows with a whistle.

“That’s a lot of promise in one little jar of green goo.”

“Well,” she said, turning her head to look at her reflection, tilting her head to either side and then up and down. “I think it’s doing what’s intended. Especially the aging bit.” Looking back at him, she shrugged again and he stared at her, letting out a deep breath.

Stepping closer to her, he looked at her closely, his eyes traveling from her forehead to her chin, across her cheeks and back to her forehead again as he brought his hand up to hold her chin between his thumb and index finger.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

He did not answer, but instead tilted her head gently, guiding her with his touch. Her stomach clenched as she stopped breathing and watched him looking at her face.

“You’ve been using it for a long time?” he asked in a low voice and she nodded.

“About five years,” she replied softly.

“Hmm, so I’ve known you longer than you’ve been using it.”

“I suppose,” she agreed, her breathing now returning, her heart rate increasing.

“I don’t see a change. You look the same to me.”

“Then… then it’s… it’s working,” she said, her words getting stuck in her throat.

“I don’t think that’s it,” he said, smiling at her and moving his fingers from her chin to trail them gently down to right below her chin. “I think it’s just you. Age defying and continuing to look the same as you did when I first met you. With considerably less shoulder pad bulk, of course.”

He smiled and she let out a breath-like laugh. His hand moved from her face and she pitched forward slightly, covering it with a step toward the mirror.

“Well, thank you,” she said, her breath still sounding too loud in her own ears. “But I think I’ll… continue to use the mask.”

He nodded and seemed on the verge of saying something when his phone rang. He looked at her and then turned to leave the bathroom.

Letting out a breath, she looked at herself in the mirror as she heard him speaking to Skinner. Her cheeks were flushed and her chest was rising and falling too quickly.

“Jesus Christ. Get it together, Dana,” she said, shaking her head.

Hurriedly clearing her things away, she left the bathroom and put on her shoes to go back to her room and get dressed. Picking up her room key, she caught Mulder’s eye and he nodded as she opened the door.

Her room was still freezing as she quickly dressed, adding an extra layer under her clothes, not wanting to be too cold if they were going to hike to the rock.

Putting on her own boots, she shivered as she opened the door and stepped out.

“Oh, Agent Scully,” Darcy said, walking up at that exact moment, a tall brown haired man beside her. “My older brother Andy is going to take a look at your heater. He knows a little about them.”

“Okay, great. Thank you, Andy . I really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” he said with a grin. “Hopefully you won’t be suffering through the cold again tonight.”

“Oh, I-” she began, but was interrupted as Mulder stepped out of his door with her coat over his arm.

“Ready, Scully?” he asked and then smiled at Darcy. “Good morning, Darcy.”

“Agent Mulder,” she said, smiling and tucking her hair behind her ear. “My brother Andy is gonna take a look at Agent Scully’s heater.”

“Oh, that’s good. Though I’ll be sorry to see you go, roomie,” he said, smiling at her.

“Yes, well,” Scully said, reaching to take her coat, the air too chilly for only her blazer. As she took it from him, she looked at him in surprise. “It’s warm.”

“While I was talking to Skinner, I turned the heater up for a few minutes and laid it on top to warm it up for you,” he said with a shrug.

“Thank you,” she said, putting it on and pulling it around her as she continued to look at him.

“You’re welcome. Breakfast?” he asked and she nodded.

Saying goodbye to Darcy and Andy, they left them staring after them rather perplexedly.

“FBI agents?” Andy asked.

“Yup,” Darcy replied.

“Work partners at the federal bureau?”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, you could’ve fooled me. They look like they could be a couple.” He shook his head and used the key to open door six, shivering as he stepped inside.

“He warmed her coat up for her,” Darcy said softly to herself with a sigh. “Where can I find someone like that?”

#the xfiles #xf fanfic #fictober22 #xffictober2022 #season 7 #case fic #sharing a room #getting ready together #laughing #teasing and flirting #msr #sweet #fluffy #humor and fluff #long post

[enigmaticdrblockhead]

Looking Forward to the Abyss

(I felt inspired to write a spooky XF mini-fic for Halloween. Apologies.) @xffictober2022

SUMMARY:

A case gone wrong.

——— x ———

She knew. She’d known for a while now, but it seemed she grew tired of waiting for him to prove her wrong and decided to take the initiative.

His former self would’ve probably found this amusing. To be honest, his current self did a bit as well: ‘a fox, a Maggie, and a priest walk into a bar…’

But to be honest, he was more annoyed than anything else. He never could stand religion, and yes he now acknowledged the hypocrisy that his faith in ‘the truth’ was without a doubt a warped sense of religion for him, and he surmised that it was that part of him that understood and at times appreciated Scully’s conflicted nature; both the scientist and the catholic. But still, this was different; a feeble attempt at an exorcism he would guess.

Sorry Mrs. Scully, I skipped on lunch today so no green vomit I’m afraid.

He was; however, not annoyed by their expressions. Similar to prey in the near clutches of a predator, perhaps they could see the error, the miscalculated step they had made.

His eyes, non-blinking since all three joined together in the room, held little glimmer of light, only shadows of a forgotten, ancient, abyss. While he couldn’t bring himself to smile at the absurdity, he could feels the edges of his lips curl back away from his teeth in a snarl. Then as quickly as what little emotion he felt enter his mind and body, it quickly evaporated.

“Do you know what hell is?” His voice soft, but with a textured quality to remove any pretext of sincerity. He watched their shocked faces become somewhat perplexed, but didn’t wait for a response.

“No you don’t. You think hell is fire and brimstone. A place where ‘bad people’ go and pay for their sins. Where horned figures wrapped in red flesh dance as the damned scream in agony.

“It’s not that. I know, I’ve been there. Many times in fact. Hell…is everywhere. Hell is an abyss, devoid of light, heat, cold, love…of anything really. Hell is your darkest fears made into reality, where your nightmares are your only source of comfort, and where your mind is warped and shredded to the point where there is no hope of regaining your sanity.

“People think when you die, you go to heaven or hell. But people never think about what happens if you come back.

“Well, Mrs. Scully…I do. Because I did die, on a case. They killed me, and they foolishly thought to bring me back. They were religious too…although…”

He couldn’t help but smile now. It was a joke and he knew the punchline. How could he not smile.

“They worshipped a different entity, I’m sure you can guess who based on our meeting. But when they brought me back, I was different, that’s how they wanted it. You see,”

His voice had taken on an odd and out-of-place jovial quality now. His affect seemed to lift and brighten; it really was a good story after all.

“I think, they were trying to summon a demon, but…they actually brought ‘me’ back. Not that they knew. I was different. At first I didn’t know who, or what I was. A monstrosity, they hid beneath the floors in the basement. When they could they’d bring in someone, maybe two. With each person I consumed, I gained a larger understanding as to who I was.

“As I feasted on their corpses my body and my mind shaped back into something more familiar. But it only made it worse, I wanted to be myself again, but it came at the cost of devouring another. With a Joe, I could walk again. A Susan, speak. A Dana…”

He paused and his face fell. This was the hardest part of the story, even if it did have a happy ending.

“I was so close, so close to being me again. But they brought her. I couldn’t do it! I couldn’t!!!! But the darkness inside me could. I begged to God to kill me and to save her, I begged to my captors to let her go and that I would take double, no triple, the lives if they would just let her go. But their response was silence.

“Except for her. She didn’t believe it at first, of course not. But she saw the scrawled markings and warnings laid by my previous victims: to hide before sundown. Before I changed. Before I slaughtered them.

But there was nothing she could do. Initially she tried to find an opening, some way for us to escape. And in that process found a video recorder, apparently one of my former victims was on vacation and was recording their trip. And in their desperation, must’ve recorded their final moments… She saw it… I saw it…

“Despair. That’s what I think hell is. And that’s where we were. I didn’t know what else to do, but she did, she always knew. She sat me down and held me in her arms. Sobbing and stroking my hair, she said she loved me. And I loved her. That’s why, I did what I did.

“Yes Mrs. Scully, I killed your daughter. I tore into her flesh and consumed her mind, body, and soul.”

He saw their faces twist and contort into confused horror, but again he refused to wait for their response.

“But unlike the others, when I was done and I came back and those fools released me… I prayed… one last time… This time, my prayer was answered. He brought her back, all I had to do was sacrifice my captors in His name, which I was all to happy to do. And I have to say, their flesh was incredible.”

He couldn’t help but lick his lips.

“And as promised, she was back. But even better, she had no memories of what happened and no hint illness or disease in sight. I can’t count how many people I killed that night, or since then, if I’m being perfectly honest. And I don’t regret it…not one bit.

“But by all means Mrs. Scully and Father…I’m sorry I didn’t get your name; by all means sing your hymns, say your prays, perform your exorcisms…it won’t work. I’m not a demon, I’m Fox Mulder.”

#xffictober2022 #the x files #fox mulder #xf fanfic

[extra-terrestrial-blue]

Fictober Day 2

Prompt: “Nobody warned you about me?”

Rated G

His brain was working overtime. He had been learning so many things about her since her recovery. The new ‘not-dying’ Scully was fresh and raw and he didn’t want to waste one moment with ingratitude. Not only did he not want to waste this newness, he desperately wanted to capitalize on it. He had a running list of all the things he wanted to show her, to experience with her and he felt like he might short circuit and end up doing nothing.

“Mulder, don’t look so despondent. I’m sure you’ll have a blast catching me up on all the ‘important’ movies I’ve never seen.”

Is she flirting ? He could feel his eyes opening wider than he intended and she just laughed. She laughed and reached over to pat his thigh. Did she let her hand linger? Suddenly his mental list was blurry and his skin tingled under his slacks where her hand had been. He looked out the window to distract himself.

“You know Scully, you do always keep me guessing.”

She chuckled, “Nobody warned you about me?”

“Huh?” He turned to her for clarification.

“I just mean, your reputation as Spooky Mulder and your work with the VCU preceded you. All you really had to go on back then were my credentials so it was really easy for me to keep who I really am close to my belt.” Her eyes held a hint of mischief and something like a promise.

Then she said something that really did surprise him.

“It’s kind of unfortunate really.”

He turned fully in his seat to face her head on.

She looked at him and must’ve seen the question there.

“It’s just that …” she paused, searching for something. “I think I kept too much of myself boxed up, in fear of not being taken seriously, and maybe, in trying to prove myself.” Her voice faltered. “After my abduction and Phaster I just felt so vulnerable and that was unacceptable to me.”

Mulder wanted to reach out and stroke her cheek, to press the pad of his thumb to her plump bottom lip. He wanted to drink her like a cold glass of lemonade on a hot summer day.

But instead he said, “Scully, vulnerability isn’t necessarily weakness and weaknesses aren’t shameful. If I had the power to do anything …” he swallowed, “it would be to have you see what I see when I look at you.”

The car was quiet for some time as they both swam through their own thoughts.

Finally she spoke. “Thanks, Mulder.” And then she clasped his hand on his thigh and this time it definitely lingered.

@atths--twice

#xffictober2022 #xffictober22 #the x files #msr #fox mulder #dana scully #txf fanfic #x files crack fic #case fic

[xffictober2023]

X-Files Fictober 2022

That time is approaching once again! Please like and/or reblog this post to let me know if you're participating in fictober this year so I know who to reblog. Also, remember to tag this blog in your fics so I don't miss your stories!

XF fandom only.

#xffictober2022 #xf fictober #fictober 22

[baronessblixen]

Mulder says yes when asked if he's the husband in order to stay with scully....go

Together with this prompt: Scully wakes up in Empedocles to see Mulder laying his head on her bed holding her hand. She asks how he managed to get in her room. He replies, “Well we might be married now.” Set in "Empedocles", obviously.

Fictober Day 11 | Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2022 | Wc: 1,224

Everything Will Be Just Fine

“Who are you? The husband?” Mulder makes his decision in a split second, looking at the ER nurse, seeing Scully being wheeled away from him. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Agent Doggett rush toward them. What is that guy even doing here? It doesn’t matter. What matters is Scully and that one question. Who is he, really?

“Yes,” he says, hoping she won’t have time to check Scully’s paperwork. “I’m her husband. I’m the- the-” How easy it is to lie about being married to Scully, and how difficult it is to spell out the true words. Who he is. To her, to the child she’s carrying. Who might be in danger.

It’s enough; the nurse pushes him through the double doors and into a whole new world before Doggett can speak to him.

Mulder’s only job in the ER is to hold Scully’s hand while they work on her. He picks up a few things here and there, not understanding much. Scully is the medical doctor, and she’s just lying there, with her eyes closed.

“You’re going to be okay,” Mulder mumbles, half to himself.

“You’re here,” she says weakly, trying to turn her head to look at him, but then another nurse steps in between them, making him let go of her hand.

“Sir, you better wait over there.” She points to the corner. “We need to make sure your wife and baby are okay.”

With one last look at Scully, who’s anxiously staring at the monitor, Mulder does what he’s told. He stuffs his hands into his coat pockets, feeling useless. He watches the doctors take care of Scully, talking to her. He sees her nod. Was that a smile on her face? He wants to know what’s going on, too. Later, he’ll ask her and she’ll explain it to him. Once they know the baby is fine.

The baby.

He’s seen it before. There were several sonograms pinned to Scully’s fridge. He observed every single one of them. Then, one night, he found one in his own bedroom. He stared at it for a long while, his finger tracing the tiny shadows again and again until tears fell from his eyes.

But today is the first time he’s really seeing it. Over there on the monitor is the baby – their baby – and its heart is beating. One beat after another, never stopping. Their baby is tough. Mulder finds himself drawn to it, wanting closer. Needing to make sure this is real.

“Your baby is okay, Mr. Scully,” a nurse says and he needs a moment to understand that she’s talking to him. Mr. Scully – that’s him. He’ll change his name, be anyone, if he gets to be here.

“My- my wife?” The word should feel wrong from his lips, but it doesn’t. Not even a little bit. It comes easily to him, like the most normal thing in the world.

“We’ll put her up in a room now. Everything is going to be okay,” the nurse says with a smile, and Mulder is so overwhelmed with relief that he almost hugs her.

*

He doesn’t know what they gave Scully to sleep, but it must have been the good drugs. What is it about them and hospitals? They’ve spent half a lifetime between bad cafeteria coffee and uncomfortable hospital chairs. His heart hasn’t quite caught up yet.

They’re going to be fine.

The doctor confirmed it again when Mulder walked into Scully’s room, now set up more comfortably. She was fast asleep, her head rolled to the side, just the way she’s been sleeping lately. The sight of her filled him with love. Lately, she’s falling asleep everywhere, her head falling against his shoulder more often than he’s used to. He wants to get used to it. Mulder wants to hold her hand through all of it, the good and the bad.

That’s why he’s still here, hours later. Scully hasn’t woken up once. Skinner has called him a few times and he’s told him in no uncertain terms that he won’t go anywhere until Scully wakes up. Exhausted himself, he rests his head on her bed, right next to her arm. Just for a moment. He closes his eyes, and listens to her even breathing. It’s always been his favorite lullaby.

“Mulder? Is that you?” Fingers run gently but uncoordinated through his hair.

“Hm? Scully? Hey, you’re awake.” He lifts his head to look into her droopy face. He’s never been more in love with her. “How are you feeling? Do you remember anything?”

“A little bit… the baby,” she says, putting a hand on her stomach.

“The baby is fine,” Mulder assures her, putting his own hand next to hers. “The doctor said you had a partial abruption. You’ll know better what that means.”

She nods and says, “I do. I guess they’ll monitor me for a while but we’ll be… we’ll be fine.” She poses it as a statement, but he sees the question in her eyes, the hint of uncertainty. He takes her hand into his, entwines their fingers, and kisses her knuckles.

“You’re going to be just fine. The both of you. Trust me, I pestered every nurse and doctor.” They smile at each other.

“Do I want to know how you convinced them to let you stay with me?”

“Well,” he says, clearing his throat. “We might be married now.”

“What?” Scully asks, smiling in disbelief. How he missed that smile. He doesn’t want to spend another moment without seeing it.

“It’s family only,” he explains. “The nurse asked if I was the husband and I-”

“You said yes.”

“I did. You’re not mad, are you?”

“I’m too tired and too drugged to be mad. But no, Mulder, of course, I’m not mad. I’m happy you’re here.” She squeezes his hand. From the looks of it, he won’t have much time with her before she falls back asleep. Any questions he might have wanted to ask will have to wait. There will be a right time for all of it.

“I saw our baby,” he says, awe-struck. “I saw its heartbeat.”

“Hmm,” Scully hums sleepily, her eyes closing, but her lips are curled upwards in a soft smile. “Maybe,” she trails off, her voice slow. He watches her, blinking slowly, fully prepared to not hear the end of her sentence. Then she surprises him, his Scully. “Maybe you can come to my next appointment. Husband or not,” she says without opening her eyes.

“I’d love that.”

“But first,” she says with a sigh. “First I want to have a pizza.”

He laughs, his eyes filling with tears. His Scully. Their baby. They’ll all be just fine.

“I think we can arrange that.”

#fictober2022 #i wanted to write angst today and look what happened #but i've been wanting to write this for ages! #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic

[scully-loves-ruthie]

Fictober Day 13

Prompt: I don't want you to do that

Fandom: The X-Files

 She asked him last week what he wanted to do for his birthday, he seemed less than jovial about the occasion.

          “Come one Mulder, we haven’t really celebrated the last couple years.”

          “It’s not like we were really in a position to be celebrating.”  He mumbled out, pushing past her for his morning coffee.

          “I could make a cake,” She offered wrapping her arms around his waist from behind.

          “I don’t want you to do that Scully.  It’s just another day.”  He shimmies out of her embrace headed toward the office, his pajama pants dragging on the hardwood offering a stark contrast to her work heels.  He loved the way Scully looked when she left for the hospital, it was his own niche he was looking to fill, and pajama pants weren’t getting him on the New York times best seller list lately.

          “Suit yourself Mulder.”  She offered dropping him a patterned kiss on her way out the door.

          That’s exactly how they ended up here, blankets laid in the backyard, the slow hum of insects and the wind lulling them to sleep.  Scully’s naked body nestled perfectly beneath Mulder’s, both cocooned tight insides a sleeping bag.  A call back to earlier times, not better, just able to be the stuff of fodder these days.  He did get lucky he thought as he rolled over to pop a mini cupcake in his mouth.  He never said no to mini cupcakes.  He lowers his head to kiss Scully slowly, deeply, intentionally feeding her some of his frosting.  He may be 46, and it may be just another day, but another day with Scully is all he ever wanted for his birthday and for his life.    

@fictober-event @xffictober2022 @today-in-fic

#Fictober day 13 #xfiles fanfic #my fic #fictober 2022 #short and sweet my dudes

[scully-xo]

Now complete! “Quantum Files”

X-Files/Quantum Leap crossover, pre-series canon divergence, pining, angst, MSR

word count: 12k, rated t

@today-in-fic @xffictober2022

Their connection was tenuous - always had been. It began in person, a few brief moments he cherished, but it had been forged from light, her projected image shining out at him. Now she flickered, crackled - tiny lightning-bolts arcing through her façade. Or was it all in his head? Had his visions of her become more real than her manifestations? Or with each leap, was he surely, inevitably, fraying the threads that let her appear to him? Would the day come that he wouldn’t see her at all? Or would he continue like normal, talking to a figment that truly wasn’t there?

Read on AO3

Chapter: 1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6

***

Chapter 7

After dropping off his cargo, Mulder learned that it was 1978. Too late. Too early. So, he led Jared Sica’s life as best he could. His wallet didn’t contain any photos of a family. Only a few crumpled bills and plastic cards. A rosary was wrapped around the rear-view mirror, but he had to stow it away in the glove compartment. It was one thing to want to hold on to memories of Scully, to remember what she looked like and the steady sibilance of her voice. It was entirely different to be reminded with every glance as he drove that he would never see or hear it again.

Instead of getting another payload, and continuing his cross-country lonesome journey, he found himself hanging around the same area. Driving by Vicky’s aunt’s place. He never saw her, but he wondered. It was safer than his other thoughts.

Several times, he passed by the place where he’d found her. The oil tanker was long gone. The weather turned, the brightness of summer burning away the mist. Each time he drove past, wheels grumbling on the asphalt, he wished for the fog. Maybe if it returned, Scully would come back, materializing through the wall of trees. Her unsubstantial light morphing into something real. It wouldn’t happen, couldn’t, but still he wished for it.

Soon, he’d have to move on. Jared had savings, and Mulder was Jared and could do what he wanted. He could use his savings, sell his truck, move near Vicky, and make sure she’d be okay. It was the only thing he could think to do that might make a difference. After all, he was five years too late to save Samantha. 

But some part of him wouldn’t let him. A little nugget of hope. Maybe Scully would find a way. If anyone could, it would be her. He didn’t let himself linger on that idea very much. Usually just in the moments before he fell asleep. When he reached out and pretended to run his fingers through her crimson hair. At this moment, it was just as real as every other time he tried to do it. Just like those other times, he’d feel nothing, as his hand moved through space instead. It felt real. Maybe pretending would be enough.

***

Mulder was passing by the stretch of road once again. It was the trees that gave the spot away. Something he’d even noticed in the mist, and was even more obvious in the bright glare of a summer sun. Two massive redwoods, side by side, crossing as they rose into the sky. It made a giant ‘X’, screaming that this was spot. This was it. Where he’d lost her.

He parked, pulling onto the gravelly shoulder, and approached the trees. Up close, he was dwarfed by them. It was a dizzying effect, and he laid his hand on the tough, spongy bark and inhaled the spicy-sweet scent. Bowed his head. In his pocket he carried Jared’s rosary and he fingered the chipped wooden beads. How much of the trucker did he carry with him? Would Jared’s God answer his prayers, fooled by the deception?

Even if Jared believed, and Scully, Mulder didn’t. He sighed, stretched his back, sore from sitting for so long. Then he unzipped his pants and pissed against the tree instead.

“Mulder.”

“Shit!” He spun around, dick in his hand, spraying everywhere, to see Scully standing next to him.

Her eyes flicked down, then back up to his face. “Um…”

Turning his back to her, stuffing himself in his pants, he whipped around again. “Scully!”

Her cheeks blazed. Her hair shone in the sun. Looked just like he remembered, better than any sunrise. 

Crossing her arms in front of her chest, her expression turned serious. “We don’t have much time. Where are you?”

“I’m, uh… right where I should be, I think?” He wanted to reach out and hug her. Wrap himself around her, like Vicky’s aunt. “God, Scully… you did it.”

Then he noticed her face. Drawn, thin. Her straight nose stood out, her cheekbones soared. Eyes a dull blue. Of course she’d done it. And it had cost her.

She nodded, looking around. “You were driving. Can you get to the same place? Even if you’re within a few yards I think I can manage it.”

“I remember, Scully.”

Standing a few feet away, she looked up at him. Hesitated. “I don’t want to go,” she said, biting her lip. 

He kneeled in front of her. Felt the stones of the rosary in his pocket jam against his leg. The weight of the device around his neck.

“It’s never changed, Scully.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“I believe in you.”

Nodding, her back straightening, she gave him one last smile before stepping back into the shadows of the trees around them. Disappearing, hopefully, for the last time.

>>>FLASH<<<

His whole body ached. Limbs felt like he’d been torn apart and put back together again, over and over. His eyes felt like he’d been standing in a sand storm.

He coughed. Throat was dry. Stomach felt like it had shrunk to the size of a pea. Like he hadn’t had any food or water in three months. Maybe he hadn’t.

Cracking his eyes open, he saw the familiar capsule surrounding him. Trapping him inside. And across the plastic barrier, dark and dreamlike, was Scully. They were in the same room as before, but the lights were off. The screens surrounding him, and the ones near Scully, were the only source of light. She stood there, eyes wide.

“Wanna…” he croaked, his voice rough with disuse. Coughed again. Pulled against his restraints.

Instead of Scully, it was Mario in front of him, unlocking the door and pulling him out. Scully hadn’t moved.

“Slow now,” Mario supported him, half-carrying him from the chair onto another one. “There ya go.”

Everything was under plastic sheets. Packed away. Chairs lifted from the ground onto long rows of tables. Cables strewn along the tiled floors. He craned his head to look where he’d last seen Scully. She was gone. Disappeared. Was this a dream? Would they taunt him, for the rest of his life?

Small hands laid upon his shoulders. They trembled. He opened his eyes and saw her.

“Mulder.”

“Hey.”

“You’re really here.”

His eyes burned, but he kept them open until tears formed, turning her into an indistinct apparition. But she was there. He felt the touch of her hands as they patted over his arms, up his neck, over his cheeks. When her thumbs grazed over his lips, he nearly jumped from the contact. Her breath was sweet, minty. She smelled like sweat and soap. As much as he loved seeing her and hearing her, knowing she was there, it was all the rest of his senses catching up that convinced him this was real.

“God, Scully.”

Her face twisted, tears falling from her eyes, though she didn’t stop staring at him.

“It’s okay. It’s okay Scully. You did it. I’m home.”

Nodding, silent, she bowed her head against his chest. Her hands wrapped around his shoulders and held him close. It was a loose embrace, nothing like the bruising hug he witnessed between Vicky and her aunt. But with every second that passed, holding her and laying his cheek against her soft hair, he felt himself twining around her. Making an endless thread, her and him, that could never be unraveled.

She pulled back and looked into his eyes. Shining, bright, hopeful for the first time in weeks. Months.

Then he kissed her.

End.

#xf fanfic #mulder and scully #msr #txf #canon divergence #crossover #quantum files #i write #scully x mulder #dana scully #fox mulder #pining #angst #the x-files #xfiles #angst with a happy ending #hope you enjoyed taking this journey with me #completed fic #complete

[the-spooky-alien]

Day 18 of Fictober !

Fandom : X-Files with the prompt "I don't think this is your problem."

Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober2022

-

‘’Scully ?’’ Mulder’s voice echoes softly behind the locked door, almost inaudible over the wrenching sound of retching coming from her. It feels like it will never stop, bile rising in her throat like a burning flame, washing everying in an acidic taste that makes her cringe. ‘’Are you okay ?’’

In her eyes, tears burn. In her stomach, shame curls. She doesn’t want him to see her, to hear the horrible sounds leaving her weakened body. She doesn’t even want to hear it herself. ‘’Please, Mulder, just go away.’’

A noise leaves him, muffled by the door between them, but still recognisable as his usual sign of confusion. A part of her, the one not buried under tons of self-disgust, wants to laugh at him, picturing his puzzled face.

The biggest part of her just wants to lie down and never move for the rest of her pitifully small life.

‘’I can’t just leave you-‘’

‘’Yes, you can. I’m fine.’’ She’s beginning to get tired of saying the same things again and again. The words taste like ash on her tongue. Or maybe it’s the residual of saliva and bile. She can’t decide which is worse. ‘’And I don’t think this is your problem to begin with. Just leave, Mulder.’’

‘’Do you hear yourself sometimes Scully ?’’ There’s an edge in his tone. She would have said anger, but it’s too dark, too raw. She wonders if it’s fear, twisting his words, seeping into his voice without his consent. ‘’How could I leave you now ?’’

How could you not ? Anger sparks in her belly, fuelled by shame and disgust, and soon, she’s snapping without even meaning to. ‘’You’ve never had a problem about it before.’’

‘’What ?’’

‘’Leaving me behind.’’ Does she really have to spell it out for him ? He’s ditched her so many times now, it doesn’t even surprise her anymore (It still hurts though. So fucking much.) ‘’I don’t know why you should care now.’’

She knows she’s being unfair. Mulder is just trying to do something to help her. Wouldn’t she do the same for him ? Wouldn’t she beg and plead and fight to take care of him, to hold his bloodied hands, to infuse warmth inside his chest ? But the thought of it, of letting him see how her disease is ravaging her body, leaving behind a body crumpling in exhaustion, eyes haunted by the ticking of Time’s clock, is enough to make bile rise in her throat again.

She wants to be warmth and beauty for him. Someone radiant, full of life. Not a fucking mess of hollowed cheeks and bloodshot eyes.

Not a goddamn walking corpse.

(She knows, if he sees her, his face will match hers, his body will fold on itself to accomodate the changes, until they’re both skeleton, remnant of a past, all dreams of a future collapsing on themselves.)

‘’Scully-‘’

‘’Go. Away.’’

‘’Goddammit, Scully, I can’t fucking leave right now !’’ Mulder yells, the door buckling under the weight of the fis the threw against the wood. It makes a loud thud. She knows he hurt himself, can hear the slight shudder in his heavy breathing, even through the door. But his next words are gentle, a breeze after the storm. ‘’I just want to help you. Please, don’t shut me out. Not again. Not when you clearly need someone.’’

‘’Don’t psychoanalyze me, Mulder,’’ she mutters, leaning heavily on the wall, sliding to the floor now that her stomach settled enough. She squashes the urge to curl against the door, in a desperate need to feel his warmth (the wood would do nothing to quell the fire raging under his skin. If she’s ice, Mulder is fire, always has been, consuming everything in his close vicinity, devouring her until there’s nothing left of her). ‘’I don’t need anyone, I’m-‘’

‘’If you say you’re fine once more, I will kick this door open.’’

A broken sound, something like a laugh, escapes her. Behind the door, Mulder echoes her. There’s another thump, softer this time. Maybe he’s leaning against the door, trying to reach out to her in all the possible ways.

He’s always reaching out to her when she doesn’t want to be touched. He’s always withdrawing when she tries to pull him close. Maybe that’s their great tragedy. Never being ready for the other’s touch, for the other’s gaze.

For once, she wishes they would be on the same page.

‘’I don’t…’’ she begins, the words heavy on her tongue. For a brief second, she entertains the notion of not saying anything. Of pulling everything back inside herself, hiding every aspects of her that is sick and feeble, only to wrap herself in steely shield. But he deserves the truth. And maybe, a small, very small, part of her is ready to reach out too. ‘’I don’t want you to see me like this.’’

‘’Oh, Scully…’’ God, Mulder sounds so soft, and tender. On his tongue, her name is like water. As if he’s dying of dehydration, and needs it to stay alive, drinking the syllables like a man lost in the desert, finally finding his oasis. ‘’Do you really think I care for you so little I would judge you or think you weak for being sick ?’’

She hates him for this. For saying words that would have kept her alive, months ago. That would have lit a flame so high, nothing could have quell it, not even the news of her upcoming death.

She hates him for loving her when she is unloveable. Broken and weary, unable to return his affection even though her heart still clenches at the sound of his voice.

‘’It’s not- I don’t-‘’ She inhales deeply, forces herself to remember it’s Mulder behind the door. Her best friend. The man she trusts more than anything. ‘’I don’t think it’s really about you. It’s about me. It’s about how I don’t want to appear weak. How I don’t want to feel weak.’’

‘’Because, unconsciously, you think I would find you weak.’’

Words leave her before she can reply anything. Somewhere inside her throat, there’s the taste of blood. Somewhere inside her throat, there’s the taste of love. And there’s no way to tell the difference. Maybe it’s like that.

Death and Life so close, embracing one another, each tendrils curling around each other until death is life and life is death.

‘’I would never, Scully,’’ Mulder says, softly. His shadow settles at the bottom of the door, slowly pouring in the bathroom as he presses closer. She spreads her legs, until each of her feet is bathed in his shadow. ‘’You’re the strongest person I know. And even sick, I still think you’re the strongest, badass, woman ever.’’

‘’You don’t have to-‘’

‘’Oh, but I have to. Don’t you see yourself ? You’re-‘’ His words dies down in his throat, drowned in his awe. A tear slips out, despite herself, drying on her skin before she can wipe it out. ‘’God, Scully, you’re amazing. Half of the time, I just stand there, watching you do all the work and kick ass, thinking to myself ‘wow’,’’ he adds, chuckling to himself. His smile is bright in her mind, not like the small, subdued one he usually sends her way since he knows of her cancer. ‘’Seriously, Scully, you’re struggling with something so… Dark and insidious and yet, you’re still standing on your feet. How could I ever see you and think of you as weak ?’’

The urge to open the door, to burrow into his arms, to cling to him until everything fades away, is so strong, her muscles tense, ready to move and let him in. She struggles against it, remind herself of how she looks, how she feels. Reminds herself what it would cost to let Mulder in now, when she’s at death’s door.

‘’But I can feel it in my bones, Mulder. My body is betraying me, and I just feel so… Powerless. Like the wind could blow me away. It’s…’’

She doesn’t finish. She doesn’t think there’s a word for the emotions raging in herself.

‘’I know.’’ He doesn’t, not really. But she allows him to, because there’s something comforting in hearing someone say this. She’s not alone in this, no matter what she may think at times. ‘’But that’s why I’m here with you, okay ? It’s alright to feel weak sometimes. To feel like you can’t control everything, not even your own body. What matters is that you have someone to lean on.’’ For a moment he stops. She wonders why, wants to see his face, see what makes him stop. The wooden door keeps her from him. ‘’Someone to catch you if you fall.’’

There’s silence as she digests this, what he’s offering her. ‘’You would do so ?’’ she asks, hating how small her voice sounds, hating how it crumbles in on itself. (She is crumbling. This is the ugly truth, this is what her voice betrays.)

‘’Scully, I’m offended you even have to ask. Of course, I would catch you,’’ Mulder says, and his voice comes closer, like his mouth is pressed against the wood, trying to cross the distance between them. ‘’I would catch you even if I was falling myself.’’

Oh, and this is it, isn’t it ? She doesn’t want him to catch her if it means he’ll fall. The image of him, crumpled in agony on the floor of a house who saw him grow and cry, flashes in her mind. The gun, quivering in his hand, the self-loathing and desperation.

He fell that night, and she caught him, stumbling under the weight of her own burden. She caught him, but their added weight sent her falling even farther into the abyss of her own making.

That night, she woke up to cough blood. That night, spitting blood in her sink, she realized he was going to let himself die.

That night, she cried. Not for her. For Mulder. For the boy of twelve losing his sister, for the man losing his best friend. A circle of lost girls, with one man inside, alway losing.

‘’The truth is,’’ she says, deciding in a instant that he must know, ‘’I’m afraid, Mulder.’’

‘’Of what ?’’

Breathing deeply, she crawls to the door and presses her hand to the wood. Somehow, she knows he’s doing the same on the other side, as if the warmth of his palm seeps into her own.

‘’I don’t think anyone can catch me this time. I’m plummeting towards my own demise and… I don’t want you to fall with me. I don’t-‘’ It slips out of her then, tumbling outside her mouth, fear and pain and anger. ‘’God, Mulder, I don’t want you to follow me in the darkness. I’m dying, but you’re so alive still. If I hide myself, if I cover every part of my body reeking of death, then maybe, it won’t tug you into its arms. Maybe you will ignore its call.’’ Her whole body is pressed against the door. She doesn’t move from it, lets herself melt against the cold wood. Speaks the words in a feverish tone. ‘’I might have to die, but you don’t have to.’’

His only answer is silence. She deflates, closing her eyes, hanging her head against the wave of pain hitting her between the eyes, rippling to the point in her brain sucking the life out of her.

‘’Please, Mulder,’’ she whispers, so, so tired, ‘’go away.’’

‘’Open the door.’’

Her eyes snap open. ‘’What ?’’

‘’Open the door, Scully.’’ He’s pleading, in a tone she’s never heard before. It strikes her then. It’s the sound of tears, of heartbreak and loss. ‘’Let me in. Don’t let yourself burden this alone.’’

A spark of irritation ignites her belly. Her hand curls into a fist.

‘’Did you even listen to what I just said ? Mulder, I-‘’

‘’If there’s no hope for you, there’s no hope for me either,’’ Mulder says. She stops, struggling not to cry, not to throw herself against him and shakes his thick skull until he understands what it would cost her to take him with her. ‘’You’re half of me now, have been for years. I can’t lose you, Scully. Wherever you go, I’ll go.’’

There’s a scream stuck in her throat. She wants to yell at him until her voice his raw, until his life matters to him more than hers. But there’s something inside her mind, something that imagine how it would be if the situation was reversed, if Mulder was dying of cancer. She thinks of him, pale and hollow like she is, telling her to live her life fully, to move on from him.

The thought squeezes her heart, makes bile rise in her throat once again.

He can’t live without her, and she used to think it was too overwhelming. It’s not. She can’t live without him either.

‘’Mulder-‘’

‘’Please, open the door.’’ She realizes then, that they aren’t really talking about the door now. Maybe they never have been. It’s always been about her in the end.’’ Let me see you. Let me help.’’

There’s a pause. Time stays still, her hand hovering above the door’s handle. Behind, Mulder’s breath is not making any sounds.

She is going to die. No matter what. In the face of it, of eternity without him, baring herself to him doesn’t seem as terrifying.

She opens the door.

#txf #dana scully #fox mulder #msr #fictober22 #xffictober2022 #im really proud of this one #sometimes i cant write anything good for days #and sometimes i get possessed by an entity that doesn't belong in this world and write two thousands words in one go #i hope you will like it :) #and thank you for reading ! #also #if there is any doctor who fans following me #i couldn't help but snuck a line from it #im letting you guess

[astridncs]

As The Rain Pours

Fictober 2022 — Day 15: “Good morning. No, don’t get up, it’s raining, let’s stay in bed a little longer...” (from this list); tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2022; also on AO3

--

She slowly woke up in the dark room, only a bit of sunlight shining from the windows provided light. She could hear the start of rain falling, the soft rapt of the branches from the trees outside his room, and his soft snoring against the back of her neck. He was snuggled against her; a heavy arm slung over her waist, his head burrowed in her neck, and his soft lips touching her bare skin. It was intimate and sweet, and perfect. But they had work soon and she needs to shower and change her clothes, but at the same time, she didn’t want to leave. She loved being in his arms, the way she felt safe and secure, the way she felt so much love. And he was warm, so warm.

“Hmmm, Scully…” Mulder softly groaned behind her. Flashbacks of the night before came into mind and it was enough to make her body buzz with excitement once again.

She slowly turned to face him. He was beautiful, always had been. She studied his face; the way his long lashes fanned, his nose which she loved, and his lips were still a bit swollen from the way they made out. He was awake, she knew it. She leaned in to kiss his forehead and waited for him to become fully awake.

“Good morning.” He whispered, his voice laced with sleep and his eyes still a bit droopy.

“Good morning.” Scully whispered back.

They laid there for a few moments, basking in the silence. Looking at each other, studying each other’s faces. The rain started to pour outside and it started to become chilly. Noticing the way Scully shivered, Mulder began to pull over the duvet just over their shoulders. She moved closer to him and without hesitation, wrapped an arm around his waist and slung one leg over his. She looked up to him, waiting for his reaction and her face bloomed into a smile when she saw him smile as well. He pulled her even closer to him, and held her face into his hand which she nuzzled into. He marveled at her beauty, he always did. But her being naked in bed with him, the way she was glowing – he can’t help but admire her more. He felt more than lucky.

Scully moved herself to lay her head on his chest, just above his heart. She reached over to touch the scar she inflicted from shooting him years ago. It was a reminder of so many things, but never of hate and resentment. Rather, it was of love and protection. She sighed at the memory of it.

“Don’t think about it,” Mulder’s voice softly said, taking her hand and pressed kisses on her fingers. “I know you’re thinking about it, don’t.”

She nodded and laid back her head on his chest. She took in all his warmth and loved it. She could feel his hand rubbing her shoulder and the kisses that he pressed on top of her head. She closed her eyes and took in the moment.

But some things just have to come to an end.

“Mulder…” she whispered and he hummed in reply. “I have to go.”

He sighed, but remained silent. He understood and wasn’t even mad, but he wanted her stay a while longer. Was he scared that things might change as soon as she was out of the door? Maybe. But he doubted it would.

It may sound selfish of him to want her to stay rather than let her go, but the moment was too perfect to let it burst like a bubble. He just hoped that he could convince her.

Scully on the other hand, took his silence differently. A part of her was disappointed that he seemed to not be making a move to stop her. She sighed and slowly broke away from him, but the way his arms tightened around her made her stop from getting up.

“No, don’t get up,” he softly said. “It’s raining, let’s stay in bed a little longer…” a soft smile was on his face, and his eyes were sincere, but she could see the want in them. Suddenly, she didn’t want to leave anymore.

She kissed him in response, and there he knew she was going to stay.

#xffictober2022 #xf fictober 2022 #fictober 2022 #fictober2022 #todayinfic #txf #mulder and scully #set in All Things #scully stays #season 7 #fanfic #astridncs #skepticsculls

[atths--twice]

Chapter Thirteen

It's Freezing

A busted heater and a cold night. With no room left at the inn, where will Scully find a place to lay her head?

Scully closed her motel room door, leaning against it as she shivered. Cold enough outside without the sudden surprise downpour as they had stood in the cemetery, she was now soaked through and in desperate need of a shower to warm up.

Turning her heater on high, she shivered again as she went into the bathroom. Stripping down as the water warmed up, she looked at her reflection and shook her head. Stepping into the shower, she sighed with relief as the warm water hit her chilled skin.

Washing twice and staying in until the water began to start cooling, she got out and dried off, then wrapped the thin towel around her body.

“So much better,” she said, wiping the steam from the mirror.

Taking another towel down, she squeezed the water from her hair somewhat before running a brush through it and then wrapping it in the towel.

Opening the bathroom door, she was hit by a wave of freezing air, causing her to gasp and step back, closing the door again.

“Shit,” she whispered, shaking her head. “Goddamn it.”

Sighing, she opened the door again and hurried to her suitcase, getting dressed as she whined and shivered.

Standing in front of the heater, she tried to fix it, thinking maybe she had done something wrong. No matter how she turned it or set it, the air was freezing.

“Shiiiiit,” she said, shivering as she closed the panel and went to the phone.

Ten minutes later, after Darcy’s father, who was working that evening, had come to look at the heater but was unable to fix it, she stood in front of Mulder’s door and knocked. Her hair was still slightly damp and she shivered in the cold air. Her fingers felt nearly numb against her lips as she attempted to warm them.

The door opened and he looked at her with wide eyes.

“Hi,” he said and she sighed.

“My heater’s broken.”

“Oh. Is it now? In the room that you so carefully chose when we arrived? That heater broke?” he asked with a smile.

“Mulder,” she said, shivering again. “Yes, okay? It did. Can I please come in?”

“Of course.” He opened the door further and stepped back to let her enter.

“Oh, it’s so warm in here,” she said, standing in front of his heater and holding out her hands with a contented hum as she closed her eyes.

“Are they working on fixing it?” he asked as the door shut and she shook her head.

“No. They said they’ll have to call someone about it tomorrow. Can I turn this up a little?”

“Sure,” he said and she opened her eyes, setting the heater to eighty.

“Not for long, but just a bit. I know you run hot.”

“You coming onto me?” he joked and she laughed softly as she shook her head. “Make it as warm as you like. I can lose some layers if I need to.”

“Okay,” she said with a smile.

“Although, if you wanted to get me naked, all you had to do was ask. Breaking your heater to come over here… that’s going pretty far.”

“Shut up,” she said with another laugh, looking at him over her shoulder. He smiled and shrugged. “I just need to warm up a bit and then I’ll go back to get my things for the night.”

“Oh, you’re moving in?” he teased.

“You said that we’d have to share if something happened,” she reminded him, raising her eyebrows. “I’m simply taking you up on that offer. Especially as there isn’t another room available. I already asked and they’re completely booked up.”

“Yeah, I suppose that’s fine then.”

“Oh, how very kind of you,” she said as she rolled her eyes. “I’ll go back over to my room when I have feeling in my fingers again.”

“Stay,” he said with a smile. “I’ll go get your things.”

“You don’t have to do that. I can go.”

“Stay,” he said again. “It’s fine.”

“No, I can do it and… God, I left my coat on the bathroom floor. I was going to hang it up.”

“Scully. I got it,” he said. “It’s the least I could do to welcome you into my humble abode. Mi casa es su casa. Or no wait… what’s the Spanish word for room?”

“Mulder,” she said with a scoffing chuckle.

“Whatever the word is, the place is yours. Besides, your hair is wet for god's sake, Scully. And you’re only wearing those thin pajamas. In fact… here.” She turned towards him and watched him take off the hooded sweatshirt he was wearing and hand it to her, leaving him in black sweatpants and a dark gray henley. “Put this on.”

“No. Mulder…”

“Yes. It’s warm, you’re cold.”

“But-”

“Scully… put the damn sweatshirt on.”

She sighed and took it, putting it on and staring at him.

“Happy now?”

He looked her up and down and smiled with a nod.

“It fits you perfectly.”

She snorted as she dropped her arms to her sides and the sleeves hung far past her fingers.

“Yup. Perfectly.”

“Hey, when you’re short…” He shrugged and grinned as she narrowed her eyes. “I’ll go get your things and be right back. Key?” She handed it to him and smiled.

“Thank you.”

“Stay here. Warm up. I’ll be back.” He slipped on his shoes and opened the door with a nod, closing it as he stepped outside.

“Hmm,” she hummed, turning back to the heater and pushing the sleeves up to put her hands out again to warm them. Taking in a deep breath, she closed her eyes, the comforting scent of Mulder all around her.

He must have recently washed the sweatshirt as it smelled like a mix of his laundry detergent and the scent that was unique to him. His Mulder scent that she would know anywhere; a combination of his body wash, cologne, and him.

Pulling the hood up, she held the fabric to her nose and breathed in with a smile. God, he smelled good. Her cheeks flushed and she turned the heater down, now feeling warm.

She walked to the small table in the room and looked down. The pamphlet Flora had given him was there, along with the files about the missing men, and a notebook Mulder had been writing in, attempting to connect the dots to everything.

She went into the bathroom to use the hair dryer, shaking her head at his tube of toothpaste lying on the counter and squeezed from the middle. Unable to stop herself, she fixed it, making it less chaotic.

Taking the hair dryer off the wall, she pushed the hood back and began to dry her hair.

Mulder appeared in the doorway, her wet coat on a hanger a couple of minutes later. He shook his head as he hung the coat on the shower rod to dry overnight.

“It’s absolutely freezing in there,” he said over the sound of the hair dryer and she shut it off with a nod, picking up his brush and pulling it through her hair.

“Exactly why you’ve gained a roommate.”

“Let me get your toiletries for you, roomie before you need to borrow… oh, I see you’ve already had your way with my toothpaste,” he said in a droll tone and she tried not to smile.

“It begged me to set it right.”

“Sure,” he said, chuckling low and shaking his head as he left the room.

She turned the hair dryer on again and thanked him for her toiletry bag with a nod as he set it on the counter and walked away.

Her teeth brushed and face moisturizer on, she brushed her hair one more time and left the bathroom, turning off the light.

He was sitting at the table, looking through the files, his left leg bouncing absentmindedly. Feeling extremely tired, she stood between him and the bed, debating if she should join him or go to sleep.

“I think I’m gonna go to bed,” she said, feeling him out to see if he had any wild theories to discuss, but he only looked at her with a nod.

“Take any side you like. Mi cama es su cama,” he said and she smiled.

“You know the word for bed, but not bedroom?”

“It rhymes with casa, it’s easy to remember.” He shrugged with a grin and she laughed softly.

“Oh, here,” she said, starting to take off his sweatshirt.

“No, keep it on.”

“I’m warmed up now, you need it-”

“Nah. I’m hot, remember. You said so yourself.”

“Not exactly what I said,” she said, readjusting his sweatshirt and chuckling as she looked at him.

“Eh,” he said with a shrug. “I know what I heard.”

“Whatever,” she said, raising her hands, the sleeves still covering them.

“I’m not ready to go to sleep yet. Will the light bother you?”

“No,” she said with a yawn. “It’s been a long day. Thank you for getting my things. And not refusing me and forcing me to sleep in the car.”

“Wait, that was an option? Shit… Well, next time, I suppose.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, smiling as she pulled the covers back and sat down. Turning off the light on the nightstand, she laid down, covered up, and closed her eyes.

“If the light does bother you, let me know,” he said softly and she sighed.

“It won’t,” she said tiredly. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Scully.”

Comforted by the warmth of the room, Mulder’s scent, the sound of papers being turned, and Mulder humming occasionally as his pen clicked and he wrote something down, she soon fell asleep.

#the x files #xf fanfic #msr #fictober22 #xffictober2022 #humor #cold weather #no heater #sharing a room #fluff and humor #sharing clothes #teasing and flirting

[extra-terrestrial-blue]

Day 8 Fictober

The X-Files

Rated G

Prompt: “Do you remember?”

Chapter 4b

Work Text:

“Mulder, Do you remember?” Scully threw a piece of popcorn up in the air and caught it deftly on her tongue, feeling smug.

“Hmmm?” Mulder seemed distracted. “Remember what?”

“What time do they do the nightly tour of the ‘dungeon’?”

They had been informed by the room service employee about the events and attractions at the manor. They were told that room 666 was actually basement level and that the guided tour was known internationally for its fear factor.

Mulder threw his piece of popcorn and caught it, matching Scully’s score. “They said the dungeon tour was at 11:30pm but the escape rooms on level 39 (fifth floor) shut down at 10:30pm on weekdays, 11:30 on Friday and Saturday.”

He was about to catch another piece of popcorn but she reached over and snatched it out of the air, popping it into her mouth. He launched himself at her and grabbed for her bowl. She squealed as she clung to it for dear life, sending an arc of popped seeds across her hotel bed.

“You’re a sore loser, Scully. We were neck and neck and you just had to sabotage me. He yanked the bowl, grabbed a handful and shoved it in his mouth.

“You’re cleaning this mess up, Mulder.” She giggled, settling back into her spot.

He started to argue but started choking instead.

Scully laughed hysterically at the blatant display of karma … until he didn’t stop.

“Mulder?” She slid over to him and firmly rubbed his back. He coughed and sputtered and her heart sank.

“Mulder, look at me.” She knew he was getting some air since he was still able to cough but she was worried it would turn into a blockage. She got up to get water when he grabbed her wrist, flashed her a devilish grin, pulled her down and dumped the remnants of the bowl on her head.

She was about to retaliate when suddenly the tv roared to life and started blaring an old black and white film. They both froze. Familiarity flooded her awareness and Scully could feel the blood drain from her face. It was the same old movie they had watched the night before. In the motel room. Alone and miles away.

Mulder’s eyes were saucers when he looked at her and said, “Spooky.”

#xffictober22 #xffictober2022 #the x files #msr #fox mulder #dana scully #txf fanfic #spooky

[the-spooky-alien]

Day 27 of Fictober !

Fandom : X-Files with the prompt "That's not why we're doing this"

Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober2022

-

The wall is cold on her back.

She feels it even through her clothes. Colder than Mulder’s fingers desperately reaching under her blouse, clawing at her skin in his need to press her closer to his body. Colder than his mouth, roaming on the skin of her face, landing on her neck, feverish and scorching.

A part of her, the one not currently engaged in her rather pleasant activity, wonders briefly if the cold comes from her.

‘’Scully,’’ Mulder pants in her ear. It would have aroused her had it been any other day. Hell, her body still wakes up to the hoarse sound of her name on his lips, warmth curling low in her belly. But there’s too much fear in his voice. It seeps under his words, thick and heavy.

Before she can think, she’s pushing him away.

Mulder stumbles back, eyes wide. ‘’Scully ?’’

It sounds feeble in the oppressive silence between them. She wants to bring him back to her, to curl in his warmth again. She wants to flee the hurt on his face, to bury herself so deep in the ground nothing can reach her.

In the end, she shakes her head, blinking back the sting in her eyes. ‘’What are we doing, Mulder ?’’

‘’You're here,’’ he replies, colder than she has ever heard him. His face is carefully blank, but his cheeks betray him, still flushed. He looks beautiful and she’s breaking his heart. ‘’You should know.’’

He’s breaking hers too.

She closes her head, inhales deeply. A wave of diziness hits her and she slumps against the wall. Between her eyes, pain intensifies, matching the agony raging in her heart.

‘’Doing this,’’ she says, surprised to hear her voice comes out so even when she feels like breaking apart, ‘’whatever this is… It’s not going to postpone the inevitable.’’ She opens her eyes, watching as Mulder’s jaw clenched, eyes darting away.

He’s not letting himself think about it. Truth is, most of the time, she tries not to think about it either. Some days are easier than others. Some days, the taste of blood never touches her tongue, other times it’s all she can taste.

Some days, Mulder and her are friends, partners, investigating together in synchrony.

Some other days, they’re colliding against each other, kissing skin and lips and tasting fear and desperation.

They can’t keep doing this.

It hurts so fucking much.

His stare is unreadable but he steps closer to her. She doesn’t think it’s a conscious choice from him. Maybe it’s as natural as breathing for him. Be close to her in any way possible.

It’s not natural for her. It takes courage.

Courage to let him graze the deepest parts of her.

Courage to look into his eyes and see her reflection, hollowed and emptied by the lump in her brain.

‘’That’s what you think ?’’ he asks, tilting his head to the side. His voice is softer but there’s still an edge to his words. ‘’That I’m doing this because you’re ill ?’’ Hurt is written on his face, dark and twisted. She nods, voice too tight to answer. Mulder sighs, hanging his head with a bitter smile. ‘’It’s not what I’m doing. That’s not-‘’

‘’That’s not what ?’’ she whispers, so afraid of breaking him completely.

His chest rises and fall, quiet. She knows how it feels. How soft his skin is, how many dips there are between his ribs, how his heart speeds up under her touch.

She knows.

(Not for long anymore. The knowledge will follow her into her grave.)

‘’That’s not why we’re doing this.’’

‘’Isn’t it ?’’

His hands land on her shoulders, gentle, delicate. ‘’It’s not,’’ he says, firmly. ‘’It’s more than that. It’s more than your cancer.’’

The wall is cold and he is so very warm. Unable to resist the tentation anymore, she snakes her arms around his waist, relishing in his quiet sigh. His mouth finds her forehead, kissing the spot where her tumor lies.

She blinks back tears. ‘’How do you know ?’’

His hold on her tightens, brings her as close as they can be. It’s different from before. Less lustful, but just as urgent.

He holds her like he’s trying to carve her body inside his own.

‘’Because I’ve wanted to do this long before you became sick,’’ he confesses in a whisper, voice wobbling. She feels his tears, the tremors in his body, running from his spine to the tips of his fingers. Despair pours out of him like waves, pulling her underwater for a brief moment before he adds, ‘’Because I don’t remember a time when I didn’t want to do this. When I didn’t feel like that. Scully, I-‘’

‘’Don’t.’’ His chest jerks against her head, but no sounds escape him. She knows without looking that he’s biting his lips, swallowing back his sob. Her arms crushes him to her. ‘’Don’t say that now. Please, I can’t-‘’

If you say this, I will fear leaving you more than dying. If you say this, hope will flare and it will hurt so much more.

‘’I’m sorry,’’ he croaks against her hair.

She almost says to him that it’s okay, but it would be a lie.

Nothing would ever be okay.

#txf #dana scully #fox mulder #msr #fictober22 #xffictober2022 #not me writing for the cancer arc once again haha #i dont know what's wrong with me with this arc #it's in my brain i have so many thoughts about it #sorry for subjecting you to it once again #i hope you'll still like it #and thank you for reading !

[the-spooky-alien]

Day 8 of Fictober !

Fandom : X-Files with the prompt "Do you remember ?"

Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober2022

-

They used to play a game, when the car rides would become too long, when Time would stretch endlessly. He came up with it, like most of their games, and as usual, she followed him blindly.

''Do you remember the first time you got drunk ?'' he would ask and she would roll her eyes but answer anyway, with a sort of shy smile playing on her lips and a twinkle in her eyes. Like she wouldn't dream of being anywhere else than here, with him in this cramped car and the stars above their heads.

''Do you remember the first time you broke a bone ?'' she would fire back, eyes widening when he would tell her he never did. And he would laugh at her shocked face, at her spluttering, and at the fact she was sitting here with him, laughing with him.

And then she was gone.

The car rides felt like an eternity now. In the silence, one question always burned his tongue, until inevitably the words escaped him and tumbled out, as loud as thunder.

''Do you remember when you were with me ?''

And he imagined her, rolling her eyes, teasing him about how melodramatic he was because she was right here with him.

Except she wasn't.

And he was alone with all his do you remember.

Do you remember the first time you wanted to kiss her ?

Do you remember the first time she hugged you ?

Do you remember how her hands felt on your skin ?

Do you remember how fierce and passionate she was ? Do you remember how she cared and fought for you ? Do you remember Dana Katherine Scully and her striking blue eyes and endearing rationalism ?

Do you remember how you failed her ?

How she cried out for you and you weren't there ?

In front of him, the road became blurry and he forced himself to stop, crumpling against the wheel with a strangled cry as soon as the motor died down. Wishing more than ever for Scully to be there with him, to grab his hand and whisper in his ear, everything is going to be fine.

She wasn't here.

She wasn't.

Do you remember how we were together ? He wanted to ask her.

Brilliant, she said in his mind, with a small smile.

He cried harder.

-

He didn't even notice Melissa or Mrs Scully. His eyes were on her weary face, on the smile tugging at her lips as soon as she saw him.

His body almost gave out, his knees shaking against the pure onslaught of relief washing over him.

She was alive.

He should have asked her how she was feeling. He didn't.

''Do you remember-''

She shook her head, like she was disappointed in herself. ''I don't remember anything, Mulder, I-''

Grabbing her hand, he pressed it against his chest, unable to care for the audience they had. Scully stopped herself and stared at him, confused.

''Do you remember the first horror movie you've seen ?''

For a moment, he feared she forgot it. That whatever happened to her took away the precious memories of their time spent in various cars, talking for hours about everything and nothing at all.

But then, she smiled, something soft and wobbly. Her hand slid to his cheek, the touch unfamiliar but warm and soothing.

''I was ten when I saw the Exorcist'', she said gently, and he finally crumbled, falling into her, holding her as tight as he could. His tears burned his skin, but she was there to hold him back and whisper in his ear that everything was fine now.

#txf #dana scully #fox mulder #msr #fictober22 #xffictober2022 #its very hard to write in English sometimes #anyway here is some angst today ! #i hope you will like it :)

[the-spooky-alien]

Day 31 of Fictober !

Fandom : X-Files with the prompt "I'm not alone and neither are you."

Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober2022

I would like to thank everybody who interacted with my fics throughout this month ! It was my first time doing something like this and you all were so nice about it, so thank you ! I hope you'll enjoy reading my last fictober and I wish a spooky Halloween to anyone reading this :)

-

It’s dark and he’s tired and Scully is here, pressing ice on his broken finger, and somehow, he can’t find it in himself to push her away again. Not because he knows it won’t work – because he can push her away, hurt her until she doesn’t want to help him – but because he doesn’t want to.

Deep inside himself, in the shipwreck where he hid his memories of Samantha and the lingering warmth his mother used to exude, in the shipwreck where his childhood lives, there’s a lonely boy who wants nothing more than someone to pet his hair and tell him everything will be okay. And sometimes, the boy cries and yells until someone, anyone, answer his call.

For a few years now, Scully’s been the only one answering his call. Wiping away his tears, shushing his cries, urging him to burrow into her devotion and care as she does now.

Still, the part of him who’s an adult, an FBI agent enamored with his partner, screams at him to do something to protect her. Her presence in his appartment is already enough danger for them both, she can’t stay here and become involved in the fucking mess that is this mission.

She has to leave. No matter what the little boy in his mind thinks.

‘’It should be alright now,’’ Scully whispers, her fingers trailing on the makeshift bandage on his broken finger. ‘’Make sure you don’t use it.’’

He nods, unable to speak despite the thousands raging thoughts in his head. Her eyes snap to his, and they’re cold and angry and terrorised. Her grip on his hand tightens, making him hiss as a flare of pain burst in his finger.

She mutters an apology, turning away. In the dark, her eyes glint too much.

She’s crying, he realizes dimly. She’s crying and he’s sitting there, across from her, and he almost died and suddenly it hits him how he could have never seen her again. He could have died.

Fear rises in his throat, ashen and thick on his tongue. He could have died, but she would have been safe. It’s what matters the most. Her safety, not his.

‘’Mulder,’’ she begins, voice choked, her brows scrunched together. ‘’Why-‘’

He doesn’t let her finish. He can’t. She has to go. She has to be safe.

‘’Get out of here, Scully.’’ Hurt flashes on her face. He hangs his head, both because he can’t look at her face, at the trust he’s stepping on, and because of the weight of guilt settling on his shoulders, pushing him down down down.

‘’Mulder-‘’

It flickers in his belly, blazing as high as a hungry flame. Fear or anger or maybe something else encompassing everything he feels towards her. ‘’Just go away. Leave while you still can. Before it’s too late,’’ he snarls, jerking away from her enticing warmth and tenderness, standing on his feet despite the diziness and the urge to fucking curl up on the floor and cry.

He doesn’t see her expression, but he doesn’t have to. He knows her, can perfectly picture her face, the twitch in her cheeks as she clenches her jaw, the narrowing of her eyes, the tilt of her head. When her voice echoes in the deafening silence between them, he isn’t surprised of how cold it sounds, how much it burns with anger.

‘’I am not leaving you.’’

A broken sound escapes him, somewhere between a whine and a laugh. ‘’You have to. Please.’’

‘’I won’t, Mulder,’’ she says, and it’s soft again. It would have been grating if he wasn’t starved for the gentleness she offers him.

‘’If something happens to you…’’ The thought is unimaginable. It tears at his guts, brings the taste of bile on his tongue. It blossoms in his chest and plants its angry claws in his heart until his heart bleeds. Shaking his head, he lets out a heavy sigh. ‘’If something does happen, your family would be inconsolable. You’re not alone, you can’t jump into this like that.’’

Unlike me, you have a mother who cares, he almost adds, but it would sound sad.

He startles at the feel of her hand curling around his uninjured one. ‘’You’re right,’’ she replies, pulling him to face her. There’s a sad smile playing on her lips as she considers him. ‘’I’m not alone Mulder, but neither are you.’’

He hates the tears burning his eyes at her words, hates how tender her touch is. He doesn’t deserve softness or tenderness or anything coming from her. What he deserves is a broken finger and an empty appartment.

She shouldn’t be here. Why is she here ?

‘’Don’t say that,’’ he chokes, trying to swallow the lump obstructing his throat without succcess. ‘’I don’t have-‘’

‘’Yes, you fucking do,’’ she whispers fiercely, dropping his hand to cup his cheeks, forcing him down to bend at her level. He sees all the protectiveness raging in his chest mirrored in her eyes. ‘’I’m here, Mulder. And you know what ? I’m not going to leave. Even though it’s dangerous. Even though you think you don’t deserve to have anyone.’’ Her fingers dig in his skin, and it hurts, but she’s looking at him like he's the most important person in the world and it’s all worth it. ‘’I am here and I don’t want you to be hurt. I don’t-‘’ Her eyes close briefly, like she’s steeling herself to say her next words. ‘’I don’t want you to die.’’

He’s too late to blink back the tear escaping him, or the sob tearing at his throat. Scully doesn’t seem to mind, wiping the wetness away and wrapping her arms around him as he dissolves against her. She’s so small against him, and yet, there’s no doubts in his mind that she can’t steady him as he cries. She’s so strong, stronger than him.

‘’We’re in this together,’’ she whispers in his chest when he nuzzles her scalp, inhaling her familiar scent, ‘’whether we want it or not. Always. Alright ?’’

He nods, letting her affection wash over him. The little boy in him finally settles. ‘’Alright.’’

#txf #dana scully #fox mulder #msr #fictober22 #xffictober2022 #im really happy to have done this #this has been a source of joy for this month and seeing other writers try their hand at it was also so cool #so thank you all <3