#and mulder is writing to her that he just wants to come home to her and to will.

[carefulfears]

top 5 (or 10 if you have em) scully taking care of mulder moments <3

she said IF i have 10 😭😭😭

1/ sein und zeit

i fear i have talked about this television scene more times than anyone has ever talked about a television scene....like. one, two, three, four, i was even foolishly invited onto a podcast to talk about it more...

my tags here:

she gets down on the Ground. there's something so primal about it. there's such a lack of pretense and sense of desperation about it. the way he hits the table. we so Rarely see him lash out like that. but it's just too much to Bear. like everything in him is just Breaking the only thing that he's even remotely been able to hold onto amidst all of the unbearable loss and trauma in his life has failed. he's fumbling around for anything that might make it better. that audries fic describing him in this moment as an 'addict out of a fix' with 'newborn anger.' “this is the world? this is it?” it's the way that he spends this whole ep cooking up some elaborate mythology about missing children and how they can be found and then the last shot of the episode is that wide shot of all of the children's graves. sometimes he's just wrong. the world is so much fucking darker and uglier sometimes than the way he sees it. and that's what is crashing down around him in this moment. and she's sitting in the wreckage holding him tight.

this is such brave, brave love. i keep thinking about CSM in the following episode, standing in scully's apartment, warning her. "allow him his ignorance, it's what gives him hope."

she doesn't know what will happen to him, to her, to them, when she breaks down the only method of coping that he has. his mother lost her bedrock too, and she didn't survive. from the moment scully enters, you can watch it break her. she does it anyway. she gets down on the ground, and she cries, and she holds him. god, it all just would've been so different, if there'd been just 1 person, 27 years ago.

(thinking about mulder reaching up to hold scully when missy died, and these tags asking: did anyone hold him, when it was his sister?)

i love the show's message on grief (and trauma), in that this is all that is necessary for "closure." there is no "Truth," (and there really isn't any closure, there's no "beyond" the sea). but it matters that someone knows. it matters that someone bears witness. it matters that someone tells you the truth, even when it fucking breaks their heart. sits in the destruction with you.

the exhaustion in her voice the next morning, when she tells skinner, "it's been a hard night for him." she's still wearing her work clothes from the day before. she was up all night. she's tired, and she's scared, and she's sad. it's been a hard 7 years. it's been a hard 27 years.

it makes me tear up every time i see it, the way she blocks him in the doorway. she's not moving. this is just so scully. it's not even starbuck, it's just so scully. she would keep him in that apartment where she could cover him and control what touches him forever, if she could. (she can't, so you're not taking him anywhere without her. the way she looks her boss in the eye and tells him he better book her a flight too. brave love.)

2/ demons

god, this one just makes me sad. this might be the one that makes me saddest. she's dying. she doesn't have it in her, anymore. i talked about this in my newsletter (and i wrote a fic about it once) but this is like...the only time where she never calls him out on what he's doing. she never yells. she never rolls her eyes. she never gets frustrated with him. she doesn't have it in her. she's dying. he will be alone. she won't be here the next time. what can she even do about it?

i always think about this post:

and you know she is thinking about how if she hadn’t been there he would’ve died. and how the next time he does something like this, she won’t have enough life left in her to keep them both alive. she might not even have enough left for herself. and she’ll give whatever she does have left to him, but it won’t be enough to save either of them. she’ll die cold and pale and he’ll burn himself out. and what can she do but hold him? who will he have when she’s gone? what will he do to himself? who will he call?

and these tags:

this is so cautious and tender and apologetic. sorry for all the pain he feels constantly. and sorry that nothing can ease it. and sorry that she is dying and leaving him like this.

she started writing to him as soon as she was diagnosed, begging. begging forgiveness, begging courage, begging grace. begging for him to not feel there was anything more he could've done, to not become the next cause he is lost in. for him to keep going, as she needs to know he's "out there."

but she's seen him hold a gun to himself too many times, and she knows he's coming down with her. and it's such a loss? this is a person she gave up everything, including her life, to follow, because she believed in him and what he wanted to do in the world that much. but things are different now. he won't survive this. he won't be "out there" saving the world.

what can she do? go to rhode island at 5am, wrap him up. stay quiet, stay still, but scream and thrash at anyone who's careless with him. sink down next to him, cover him, hold him. "maybe we need every answer in the world to survive a single question: how long do we have each other?" (x)

(also, her memento mori journal, in general. she sat in that hospital alone, for days, knowing she was going to die. and she wrote letter, after letter, after letter, to him. so that he would have something. so that he wouldn’t be left alone with nothing, again.)

3/ the end

"as mulder appears. the look on his face is of a man who's seeing, smelling, and tasting the loss of everything he has worked for. it's the look of utter defeat. angle on scully at the door. she sees only mulder right now...she moves to him now. putting her arms around him, holding on to keep him from breaking. off this, we fade out. the end." (script)

i think so often about the script notes of this scene. the description of mulder, as absorbed in destruction. everything that he's worked for, literally reduced to (cigarette) ash. scully only focused on him.

in the final angle of the season, you can really see how she's standing in front of him. her fingers clutching him. but when she first grabs him, it's so tentative. it almost feels like she's trying to see if he's still there, if he exists, if his work doesn't.

this is...the whole thing! there's a reason why this was "the end." the final image of this iteration of the series, before everything changes. this is what it is all about. it's mulder walking headfirst into the devastation of the world. drenched in loss. seeing it. smelling it. tasting it. surrounded by it. and it's scully knowing what he'll find even as he's still moving (this script note, from the hallway: "reverse on scully. returning the look. knowing what mulder is going to find. and what it will mean.")

following behind. eyes on him, while he takes in the ash. just holding on for dear life; trying to keep him close, whole.

(also, i love the moment before the fire, at his apartment, after diana was shot. the way scully tells skinner that he can reach her at mulder's if he needs her, because that's where she'll be. he doesn't even have a bed, or anywhere for her to stay!! she's not leaving him.)

4/ paper hearts

oh, starbuck. we are really in it now.

paper hearts is an ahab and starbuck episode, yes. but mostly it's about grief. mostly it's about harsh awakenings. mostly it's about confrontation with fear, scully's included.

one of the most haunting moments of the series, to me, is when they speak to the father of the 14th victim, twenty-one years after his daughter went missing. and through tears, the father says, "i used to think...that missing was worse than dead, because...you never knew what happened. now that i know, i'm glad my wife's not here. she got luckier."

in that moment, as mulder looks over at the photos on the mantle, missing is not worse than dead. it is not worse than knowing. and later that day, in his first scene, roche calls it exactly as it is: "i understand you take this very personally, mulder."

i've written about this scene in the hallway so many times, because it's truly the crux of this episode (my favorite episode).

from my newsletter:

There’s something so viscerally deep about this episode that’s hard to put into words, but to me, it is most palpable in the moment in the hallway when Mulder asks Scully if she believes that his sister was abducted by aliens. And you can see in his face that he knows the answer, and he’s challenging her to come out and say it. You can see in Scully’s that she would rather admit to anything else.

he's challenging her. he's taking their entire dynamic, and throwing it in her face. not to be cruel. not to disrupt. but just to say...so what now? isn't this what you believe?

i don't think that they've ever been so fragile, as in this hallway, honestly. they rarely threaten to break it all down. their entire lives are built on him walking up to tragedy and saying: it was aliens. it was XYZ. and her following behind saying: no. it was a killer, it was a man.

what does that mean? what is she really saying?

this episode is hard on scully. mulder has never been more haunted. there has never been a bigger reminder of what they are actually doing. they are not just chasing little green men, having adventures, studying sewer worms. they are trying to make sense of something that will never make sense. they are trying to find a "truth" that they do not want to know. they are living their lives in mourning, in bereavement, in remembrance, of a missing little girl, and scully is terrified that they'll find her. that it will be exactly like roche threatens. that missing is not worse than dead.

and there is no one else. there is no one else that even knows how haunted he is. how stuck he is, in that childhood bedroom, like he said all those years ago. how deeply sad it is.

it's all of the little things. it's the "you did good work, mulder" in the beginning. it's the way she asks if he's okay to go tell the 14th victim's family. it's way she exclaims "oh my god" when roche says that he just wants to see mulder's face, when he finds samantha's body. one of the few times that we ever see scully lose control, but she just stands up and screams, opens the door and wordlessly waits for mulder to get up and get out of there.

it's the way that she hears "help me, scully" and digs in the dirt, with her bare hands.

(you can tell in his eyes here that he's been crying, and it really gets to me. there's so much that we don't see.)

in the end, they're back in the basement. nothing left but one scrap of tattered fabric, one more lost failure. it's over. she just comes down to check on him.

the progression of scully's face in this last scene is just unbelievably gut-wrenching to me. her smile, when she tells him to get some sleep, and he laughs. the way it disappears when he holds her, and can't see her anymore. with his mother, flashing that smile and hugging her was all that it took to convince her not to worry. when he repeats the same actions with scully, she looks like she could break.

this post:

Episodes like this make me think how alone - not just lonely, but truly alone - Mulder was before her. Nobody lost sleep over him falling apart under the fist of decades old trauma. Nobody grappled with him, let him wrestle his grief against them, and still stayed. Nobody visited him in the hospital, flew to Alaska, lied for him, stayed by his bed for days straight without an extra change of clothes. Nobody else knew he was suffering or wanted to, knew it more than he knew. That end of Paper hearts where she tells him to get some sleep, he laughs at the ridiculousness of it, but also out of incredulity at having someone to wish for better on his behalf. The heartbroken look on her face as he’s laughing into her waist seems to be her coming to the same realisation; “Who looked after you before? How long did you feel like this on your own?”

she is heartbroken. there is so much grief, in being starbuck. there's grief in being needed. there's grief in following ghosts. there's grief in loving someone who is so encased in pain, in loss. he will not go home and get some sleep. a well-placed joke, that smile, a hug, does not convince her that he's okay. he hurts so much, for so long, and he has one person who knows it. and all they do is keep moving: closer and closer to that breaking point that she is so afraid of, and they can't stop.

5/ redux ii

remember when dana scully lied on her death bed and looked up at mulder as he told her that he was not willing to jeopardize skinner to save himself, and she replied, "well, then, you have to lay it on me."

the way he smiles and shakes his head, chokes out "i can't...i can't do that." through tears...they are so kind to each other. all that she has left in the world is her reputation, and she says: take it. take it all. take everything.

she cries when he won't do it.

6/ herrenvolk

okay, i wanna get into some slightly lighter ones, so y'all remember when she nearly fully knocked skinner into the wall, because mulder came in with a (checks notes) scratch on his face?

this is just so scully.

she is so panicked. she just wants to slow him down, to stand between him and the world for even one moment longer.

these tags:

she's almost begging him not to go in. the extent of her worry is heartbreaking. she loves him. it frightens her to know what awaits him.

one of the biggest conflicts of scully's character is that she just cannot stop him, she cannot shield him, she cannot protect him. the way she leans up here, and pulls him to her shoulder. covers him with a blanket. this is what she can do.

there is so much grief in being starbuck!! in loving someone who walks blindly into a world that you do not trust. in following someone into the worst night of their life: over, over, over. years, years, years. in being first mate, holding the responsibility on your shoulders of having to steer in a safe direction, only having one to choose from.

(i also think it's really special, all of the little moments where she checks in. in the previous episode, in the hospital hallway, the way she says "are you okay?" so softly.

in paper clip, when she makes him stop, and says "no, wait, hold on a second...i don't think you've had time to process everything that you've been through."

remnants of the girl who told him she'll cover for him and he should just go get a beer, take some time for himself, after jersey. who suggested he talk to someone, when jerry lamana died. she's always wanted so much for him, but she understands more now. there's still room to pause, for a moment, before he carries on.)

7/ anasazi

ladies, would you shoot your man with a gun, to keep him from endangering himself, while he was being laced with LSD, and then drag him across the country singlehandedly, while he was unconscious, despite him being twice your size? and this, too, is taking care.

the way she says, "i was certain they would have killed you, mulder." and the fear in her voice, his hand on her knee. (she is so young. she really doesn't know what to do, not as often as she seems like she does). the way he says, "thank you. thank you for taking care of me." they are so kind to each other. it'll break your fucking heart.

(i remember asking y'all a few weeks ago, if mulder and scully ever say "i'm sorry," if they ever apologize to each other. and we came up with a couple of times. i'll tell you what, though: not as often as they say "thank you.")

8/ fire

girlbosses when they singlehandedly solve serial murders, to get their best friend's shitty ex away from them!!! okay, i put this one on here because we were talking about it yesterday, but scully really does handle the entire situation with phoebe so perfectly, and that's hard to do, when you're dealing with friends and abusers.

trish, i loved this part of your post yesterday:

scully gives him the space to talk about it, never says too much but she says enough. her phrasing is SO important. she repeats what he just told her in a way that frames it as wrong.

she's a little rabid, lol. we can see it on her face when she's alone, or when mulder's not looking. but around him (around phoebe too) she's calm. she listens, she addresses what he tells her as bad, without pressing. when he tells her that she's off the case, that he doesn't want to expose her to what phoebe is doing, she asks one time: are you sure you don't want help?

he says yes, and she does it anyway. she catches that fucking murderer so that this woman can go home. just, like, an inspiration to us all.

trish's tweet:

really, truly, genuinely. scully solving the case in fire was the absolute best course of action she could have taken. get that woman out of here, an ocean away from mulder. (give him freedom, let him heal, teach him what real love feels like)

(her eyes locked in on him here, phoebe behind her. the way that when phoebe leaves the room, scully says, "you alright?" instantly.)

meeting phoebe just a few months into their partnership made her so fucking crazy like...i make fun of her for being sick in the head in regards to everyone he meets (men and women alike) and never wanting anyone around him other than her but like, my god, can you blame her!!! he's such a gentle person and people are so cruel and it makes her eyes bug out of her head.

yeah, i really don't have much else to say here, you guys. she solved a murder herself, a case that she wasn't even supposed to be working, so that his old gf would go away and stop being mean to him. she doesn't play!!

(also! while we're on the subject of abusive exes, honorable mention to scully cornering diana into an empty room and telling her to "just think" about who mulder is, who he was when she met him, compared to where he is now. "and then try and stand there in front of me. look me in the eye. and tell me mulder wouldn't bust his ass trying to save you.")

9/ deadalive

oh, you guys remember that time she raised him from the dead, right?

scully at 8 months pregnant, sitting in that hospital chair, holding his hand, for days. knowing he can’t feel it, knowing that there’s nothing that says he’ll ever wake up. that it’s impossible. that there is no science…yeah. she just sits there and holds his hand.

i love the moment when she finds out, and she comes barreling through that hallway. she hits skinner first, and starts yelling, “i want to see him. no, i need to see him,” slams her fists into his chest.

then she moves onto doggett. repeats, “i need to see him” through tears. and the way doggett says… “i know. but i wish you wouldn’t.”

she’s loved. they want to protect her, protect her image of mulder as she knew him. but they also both know she will fucking plow them down.

i always think of this fic and feel so ill:

“I pulled you six feet out of the ground,” she whispers, dangerously low. “Because I couldn’t live without you. I gave birth to your child.”

she fed his fish while he was in a casket. she planned a funeral and decorated a nursery alone, at the same time. she ran herself ragged all over the country, trying to keep his work going. she raised him from the dead.

(i also feel that i can throw in here, as related, the time that she busted him out of prison and then abandoned everything in her entire life including her career, her family, and everything she owns, to go on the run from the law and live secretly in seedy motels for years to be with him.)

10/ fight the future

there are too many contenders for my last spot, so i’m gonna keep it simple, and go with the most special movie moment. (of all movies).

from my newsletter:

“Mulder watches the spaceship as it flies overhead, his face glows with a heart-melting grin of childlike wonder and awe.”(x)

That’s exactly what it feels like to me, it’s an innocence and excitement that was so present in season one, that was all over him when he told Scully to come look in the second episode, but that’s rare to see in the later seasons. It’s rare to see at this point in their story, after all that’s happened. They are stranded in Antarctica, both of them injured, both of them freezing in the cold, and they are holding each other and gazing up at the sky. What a perfect thing in their big momentous feature, to bring it all back to what it started with.

there’s such a reverent sentimentality to it, in the simplicity. she had stopped breathing, a few minutes earlier. but when he passes out, she pulls herself up, and grabs onto him. keeps him alive, keeps them both alive, just by holding him close. that’s really the heart of it.

(also, i find it so moving that this film is the only time in the franchise that scully considers leaving, not working with him anymore, and it’s because she thinks she’s not good for him. that she’s holding him back. she never considers him as anything other than wanted, something worth believing in.)

some honorable mentions to: little green men, which i’ve written about here. (especially her secret-signaling him to their secret meet-up place, just to ask if he’s okay). the erlenmeyer flask, which i’ve talked about here. (she literally stops him in the street to tell him that she should have listened to him, and she’s sorry, because she should have trusted his instincts. that means so much, you guys). her telling colton she hopes he falls on his ass after he was making rude comments about mulder in squeeze, screaming at a serial killer that she’ll gas him into hell herself and no one will stop her, if mulder isn’t okay, in beyond the sea….she has threatened and shouted at and smacked around so many people for fucking with him, and this too is care!! (anger meaning you’re worth being angry over, etc etc)

how desperately she became frantic to find their son, after 17 years resigned to never ever looking for him, never ever endangering him that way…because she became convinced that it’s the only thing that would help mulder.

and how important samantha is to her. it matters. it matters, that sam is remembered. that someone else in the world knows. someone knows that they played baseball in the summers, that they fought over the television, that he’s looked for her in every room he’s ever been in. someone else cares about her; not as a white whale, not as a photo on a desk, as a little girl who broke her collarbone because she played on swings too hard. scully listened to her journal, and cried. listened to how much she suffered. how much she just wanted to see her big brother. (scully kept a journal like that, too, once. underwent those same tests. almost died at the hands of those same men. wrote her testimony to that same person.) it’s taking care of mulder, to love samantha. and she does.

[thursdayinspace]

Unexpected day off means writing longer smut! I'm really enjoying writing these little things right now.

She knows he isn’t even aware that he’s doing it, he’s so completely oblivious to the effect he has on other people sometimes. She’d been good—or mostly successful—tuning it out before they started sleeping together, but now, watching him like this just reminds her of all the wonderful things he can do with that mouth of his. And she has no idea what prompts it, but some days, he just won’t stop doing the most infuriating things with it when there’s nothing she can do but watch. It’s bad today.

He must have gone through half a bag of sunflower seeds by now, lips and teeth and tongue working on them absentmindedly as he reads through reports. He puts things in his mouth to hold them while his hands are busy—pens, paper clips, the fucking coffee stirrer…which he then just keeps there to chew on it. He bites his full bottom lip, runs his fingers over it as he carefully studies a picture in a file, and she’s going crazy. He won’t stop. He just won’t stop. He just keeps going. In their office, in the car, at a fucking crime scene they’re investigating, in a meeting with five cops, Skinner, Kersh, and several other people whose names she didn’t get because she can’t think straight.

She’s sitting at the conference table clenching her thighs together, trying to ignore the throbbing between her legs. Her underwear is soaked and still she can’t stop looking at him, throwing sideways glances at him in the chair next to her. He’s chewing a hangnail on his index finger, his tongue flicking out occasionally to soothe the spot, and she considers excusing herself and finding the nearest bathroom or closet or any empty room to take care of herself. It would take no time at all; she feels like she’s been on the brink of orgasm for hours and it’s not going away.

When they finally, finally finish for the day, she doesn’t even spare anyone a single glance, doesn’t say anything, just speedwalks straight to the elevator to get down to the basement. Their tiny bathroom down there is her best chance of not being caught. Mulder will hopefully stay upstairs, talking over details of the case with…whoever all these people are. God. She needs to come so she can finally form a single clear thought in her head.

Unfortunately, Mulder seems to have no intention of hanging out with anyone up here, instead comes running after her, catching the elevator door with his arm at the last moment, joining her in the small metal box where she can’t get away from him.

“Scully,” he says, a little out of breath. “Are you okay?” He sounds so concerned and she wants to groan in frustration. She manages a deep breath instead and nods, keeping her eyes straight ahead, avoiding his gaze.

“I’m fine.”

He puts a hand gently on her shoulder and she can’t stop herself from shivering under his touch. “You were fidgeting in your seat all through the meeting and you didn’t say a word. If you’re not feeling well…” He touches the back of his hand to her forehead as if he’s checking her for a fever and she closes her eyes, breathes through the fresh spike of arousal. “You are a little hot,” he says. “And your face is flushed. Look, I can handle this, if you wanna go home—”

“I’m fine,” she snaps and wants to cry. She needs to get off so badly, and now here he is, standing so close to her she can feel his body heat, and he smells so good, and she can’t remember ever being this turned on in her life. All because of his stupid mouth that, right now, just won’t stand still.

“You’ve been pushing yourself hard lately. It’s really no big deal, I’ll tell Skinner that you’re—”

“Shut up,” she growls at him, and the last thread holding her together finally snaps. She spins around and shoves him up against the elevator wall before grabbing his head in both hands to pull him down into a fierce, hungry kiss, moaning as she manages to get his thigh between her legs. The sudden pressure against her aching clit feels amazing and she pants against his lips as she rocks into him. She feels lightheaded with relief.

“Scully,” he says, surprised, but then his hands are on her ass, pulling her tighter against him.

“Your mouth,” she groans. “All, fucking day, god, Mulder, do you know what you’re doing to me?”

He needs no time at all to catch on, and his teeth grazing her neck is almost enough to push her over the edge. But the elevator stops with a slight jolt, the doors sliding open, and she doesn’t protest as he lifts her up by the backs of her thighs. She wraps her legs around him, lets him carry her down the short hallway to their office, the promise of release pushing her arousal to new heights.

“I didn’t know,” he says right into her ear, voice low and full of something that makes her shiver.

“Would you have stopped if you did?”

He sets her down on the edge of the desk, and his eyes are dark, the bulge at the front of his pants unmistakable. “Probably not,” he admits, and sinks to his knees.

She can’t stop looking at him, her heart speeding up at the look on his face as he works her out of his skirt. There’s something dangerous in his expression and she wants him, she wants him. He doesn’t ask, doesn’t speak as he rips her pantyhose, pushes her underwear aside, and buries his face between her legs.

Her head falls back and she cries out, hoping nobody followed them down here, but honestly, she wouldn’t care, would beg him to keep going, even if the whole crowd from that meeting were watching. Shit, she’d let him fuck her on that conference table in front of everyone right now.

He swipes his tongue through her folds and moans. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he says, and she wants to answer, wants to tell him it’s all for him, but he sucks her clit into his mouth and she forgets how language works. Her legs are hooked over his shoulder, his hands holding onto her thighs, and he’s eating her out like his life depends on it. She thinks her life might actually depend on it.

The ferocity of her need is unbearable, every cell in her straining, burning, her mouth open in a voiceless scream as she feels her body reaching it’s breaking point. Her orgasm rips through her violent and fierce, a ruthless current of electricity that shatters her into a million pieces.

He rises to his feet and she vaguely registers him unzipping his pants and shoving them down his legs. He’s so big, she thinks, so hard it looks painful. She does her best to wiggle out of her panties as he pulls them down her legs and off. She can’t do anything but let him take what he needs, and she’s wrecked, boneless, helpless as he steps in between her legs and finds her opening. He thrusts in hard enough to lift her off the surface of the desk. And she wants him, she still wants him, aftershocks rippling through her, and they’re not done, not yet.

He picks her up, carries her over to the wall with his cock deep inside her, and she clings onto him as he starts fucking her with a feverish urgency that leaves her breathless. God, she loves it when he needs her, loves it so much she’s not surprised when she feels a second orgasm building inside her. She clenches hard around him as he pushes in with amazing force again and again, her back arching off the wall as she comes a second time. He keeps going, teeth sinking into her shoulder as his moans rise in volume, and she’s on the verge of discomfort when he slams into her one final time and stills, his moan deep and broken, his fingers digging into her thighs hard enough she knows there will be bruises.

They sink to the floor together and she curls into him as he pulls her close. “Did that help?” he asks, and she laughs, her voice hoarse and tired.

“It helped. For now. Thank you.”

“Hey,” he says. “Anytime. By the way…” He kisses her hair and rests his cheek on the top of her head. “You can just ask next time. You know, instead of zoning out on an entire meeting.”

“Yeah,” she says, “you may have to catch me up on what we were actually talking about up there.”

“In a minute,” he promises, and she’s fine with that.

[baronessblixen]

Fictober Day 1: Pixelated Moments

Mulder appreciates Scully saving him after the video game debacle in "First Person Shooter" - and tells her so. (wc: 971), rating: T

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober24

She’s scrubbing at her face, hoping to get rid of the paint splatters that speak of their victory in the video game. After all, it could be blood. They could be, she realizes with a shudder, lying dead and cold in a morgue. They’re not. She’s here in the shower, trying to get rid of the paint and the ringing in her ears.

They got home half an hour ago, her muscles protesting as they walked upstairs to her apartment. Despite the hour, they ran into one of her neighbors, who just stared at them. They’ve long stopped asking questions. Tonight, she’s too tired to answer any of them anyway. That’s why she made Mulder write up the report. The thought of him sitting out there in her living room, still partly dressed in gaming gear, splotches of color on his face, typing away, puts a small smile on her face. Her face, she finds, is one of the few body parts that’s not sore.

Lucky her.

As the water drums down on her body and she realizes that she should probably leave some hot water for Mulder, too, she can’t shake the niggling feeling in the back of her mind. The Mulder she saw today, the one who was drooling like a dog over a video game character, and felt the need to blast the crap out of something, is a Mulder she’s unfamiliar with. After all these years together, he’s never shown that particular side of himself to her.

“Hey, you.” Mulder knocks softly against the shower door, surprising her. “Leave me some hot water, huh?”

“I’m almost done.” She closes her eyes and lets herself enjoy the warmth one more moment before she turns the water off. When she steps out, Mulder is there with a towel for her, while he’s stark naked. Unashamed as always. She mouths a thank you while she lets him wrap the towel around her body.

“That was good work,” he murmurs, touching her face. His finger follows the contours of her cheekbones where the paint splotches were just an hour ago. “I still look like a clown,” he finishes with a grin.

“You do.”

“I wasn’t talking about the paint, though. What you did in there- Scully, you were amazing.”

“That’s my job.” She tries to step away from him, but he stops her with a gentle touch on her elbow.

“Being amazing is your job?” He grins. “I’m serious, Scully. I would have been toast. We all would have been. You beat the game.”

“I didn’t. The kill command did.” Mulder shakes his head.

“Before that. You saved my ass.”

“Worth it,” she whispers with a raised eyebrow before she does something she’s always wanted, and never before dared. She gently slaps one of his ass cheeks, making him chuckle.

“Glad you think so. Before all my blood moves south, though, and I won’t be able to think with my actual brain anymore, let me just say thank you, all right?” She’s taken aback, staring up at him. He’s serious. He’s almost too serious. “I don’t say it often enough. I know you don’t understand the need to blast the crap out of something.”

“Maybe I do now.” His eyes grow wide. Only when it is to save him; but that remains her secret for now.

“You want to do it again?”

“No,” she says quickly.

“You were incredible,” he says with a sigh. “But that’s not – I’m glad you came in there, Scully. I’m glad that you saved my ass and probably will do so again next week or next month.”

“And you’ll save mine.”

“Oh yeah.” Up until now, he’s kept his hands to himself. Not anymore. The towel comes loose again and his hands make contact with her skin. Goosebumps appear where his fingers travel over her body. They wander from her shoulder over her arms, make a detour to her boobs, and finally land on her hips. Heat emanates off of Mulder and Scully wonders if he’ll even need hot water at all.

“I know I haven’t showered yet, but…,” he trails off, his mouth landing on hers. His tongue makes a compelling case; he’s teasing her, knowing she can’t resist his plush mouth and his taste. But there’s still that feeling in the back of her mind. She ends the kiss, and Mulder's mouth follows hers, until she puts a hand on his chest.

“Mulder, how often do you play video games?”

“Huh?”

“I didn’t even know you liked them.”

He shrugs before he loops his arms back around her. “I don’t. I play them sometimes with the Gunmen. Or used to. It was, well, call it a misguided sense of nostalgia.”

“I didn’t ask because I think you shouldn’t play them. I was just- it’s something I didn’t know about you.”

“And you were wondering if one of these weekends I was going to ask you if I could bring my Playstation? Don’t worry, Scully,” he says, leaving a soft kiss on her nose, “I won’t. I have better things to do with my hands.”

“Do you, now?” And she knows he does. Her body is well acquainted with his hands by now. She can’t get enough of his touch. Not now, not ever. His kisses become hungrier, and she realizes they’re walking backward, towards her bedroom. Mulder’s shower is forgotten, and she laughs softly as she comes face to face with the paint still on his face.

“You can help me wash it off.”

“Later,” she says, touching every paint splatter on his face, no matter how small. They tell a story, too. She wonders what else she’ll learn about Mulder. And what he’ll learn about her in the process. There are still so many stories to tell. Tonight, though, she wants to feel.

[actual-changeling]

partly inspired by my own meta post that i wrote about it a while ago. i thought about the love confession at the end of triangle for too long and somehow managed to uh. make it hurt even worse. sure, i could have fixed it BUT i can also write the equivalent of making us all chew glass so that's what i did.

800-something words of bittersweet angsty hurt/comfort

———

"Hey, Scully."

Her feet are aching and her body is screaming for rest, and yet she returns to his bedside when he calls, exactly like she always does. The day is heavy on her bones, eating away at her composure and leaving her raw, with her nerves exposed. It feels like she hasn't slept in a week, and all she wants is to go home, have a hot bath, and probably cry for a good hour or two. 

Mulder pushes himself upright, and with her hands grasping the railing, she leans in closer than she probably should; she can still see him floating in the water, no matter how hard she tries to expel the memory.

"Yes?"

Scully can't say what she expected—a 'good night', maybe, or a 'thank you for saving my ass again'. 

But when Mulder looks at her with an unflinching gaze and says, "I love you,"  she breaks. Easily and all at once, a dry twig snapping underneath her heel, a ripe peach bruising as it rolls from the kitchen counter. Her eyes flutter close, her next inhale shakes almost violently, and she falters. The white-knuckled grip she has on the plastic railing is the only thing keeping her upright.

Scully cannot look at him, can't face the determination, the hope she knows she'll find. After a minute of tense silence, she speaks with a quiet, tortured voice, and clings to the last remnants of her self control.

"Don't—don't do that to me, please. Not today."

Mulder's hand lands next to hers, and she stares at the inch of distance between them as hers begins to tremble.

"It's not drugs talking, Scully, I mean it."

I know you mean it, she doesn't say. That's the problem.

God, she's tired. She just wants to go home and forget about all of it, and now he cannot even give her that one last respite. The tears pricking in the corner of her eyes are born of overwhelmed exhaustion, and her strength fizzles and burns out as she attempts to hold them back. She does not want to cry in front of him, never has, and the hot trail running down her cheek feels like a dagger pointed at her chest.

When Mulder sits up and leans in, she squeezes her eyes shut and is about to turn away when his fingertips brush along her jaw. He slowly, hesitantly, traces the lines of her face until he cups her face with his right hand and wipes at the tears with his thumb. 

It's everything she wants at the wrong time, and yet she helplessly sinks into the touch. After a few moments of her allowing the gesture, his other hand comes up, too. Mulder is close enough for her to feel his warmth against her skin and his breath ghosting over her lips.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, and she doubts either of them knows what exactly he's apologising for. 

Saying it. Not saying it earlier. Saying too many things he shouldn't have. Almost getting himself killed again. All of it and more.

"I can't do this, Mulder. Not when—when you could change your mind and take it back."

She can sense him scrambling to respond, and she finally opens her eyes to stop him in his tracks. Not unkindly, she softly shakes her head.

"You will promise not to, but it already happened. You meant what you said until you didn't. You wanted me around until—well." The laugh bursting out of her throat is weak and humourless.

In a flash of panic, Mulder's grip on her face tightens, not uncomfortably so, just enough to cause her hands to shoot up and wrap around his wrists in return. Keeping him in place, pulling him away, she doesn't know. Both. Neither. He does not want her to walk away, and, deep down, she wants to stay despite knowing she can't. 

"Never again," he pleads, an edge of desperation to his voice she heard once before; another missed chance hidden badly from view. "Never again, Scully, I swear."

She's shaking her head before he finishes his sentence, squeezes his wrists once, and then slowly leads his hands away from her face. Immediately missing the warmth, she lingers and keeps them in her grasp. After everything they went through, he's still Mulder, the one person in the world she knows would never willingly hurt her despite having done so before. She still trusts him, no matter how hard she tries not to.

Regret is dripping from her words, and she smiles, if only to soften the blow. She doesn't want to make the situation worse than it already is, but she can't do this. She can't. Not now. Not like this.

"I want to believe that, I really do, but it's not enough. Words aren't enough."

She slowly slides her hands upwards until she can unfurl his fists and press a kiss to his palms. Then she lets go and steps back.

"Get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow." 

Scully feels his eyes on her for days, no matter how many miles stretch between them. He does not say it again. She didn't expect him to—somehow, it still hurts.

[randomfoggytiger]

Collector's Edition: Reworking Requiem and Mulder's Return (Part II)

Ahhhh, Requiem. The episode that drove me to read fanfics after Season 8 wrapped up.

Loose chronological order below~

@amplifyme/wonderland/Lydia Bower (Tooms Gossamer)

“New year’s resolutions?”

Mulder looks over at her with one of his sidelong, appraising glances. “Do I look like the type who makes resolutions?”

“Come on, Mulder. We’re stuck in this car on New Year’s Eve on what is most assuredly a dead-end stakeout all because you’re convinced that one Herman Jiménez is preparing to escort his family to a new home somewhere in the heavens, compliments of a spaceship steered by little green men. Humor me just this once and play along. And yes, I do think you’re the type to make resolutions.”

“Well, see, that’s where you’re wrong. I don’t make resolutions at the beginning of a new year. I make promises instead.”

Pre-Requiem: There is, in fact, no Requiem-- only a stakeout, a debate, and New Years promises.

@cecilysass's Pause (Ao3)

“Mulder?” she repeats.

Very slowly he turns, allowing her to see his face for the first time.

His expression is flat, without affect. He blinks.

“Hi,” she tries again. She scrambles to stand up. “I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s just me. I’m…I’m having a rough time. I don’t have any idea what’s going on. I don’t remember what’s happened.”

He takes a step towards her, and she sees how terrible he looks. He needs a haircut and a shave. There are deep purple smudges lining the bottom of his eyes.

His eyes dart over the scene in front of him: her clothes, her hair, the half-eaten lasagna on the plate in front of her, the coffee table with no dirty dishes.

Something like fear flickers across his face.

Pre-Requiem: Scully is presumed dead for a year, only to be returned missing a chunk of her memories (and unaware she is pregnant.)

@leiascully's (Ao3) Imagine Other Worlds - Chapter 7

She can feel it. She knows there’s no medical reason she should be able to. But she knows, somehow. When she goes to see her doctor and she touches Scully’s shoulder with that expression, it isn’t difficult to gather herself. She’s been through this before.

Pre-Requiem: Not only is Scully pregnant, but her cancer is back. There is no Bellefleur, only a hope that she'll pull through.

Variations on a Requiem

Scully wondered, just for a moment, what had ever happened in Bellefleur. She hoped that Theresa Nemman no longer got nosebleeds. She hoped that Billy Miles had found some peace. Maybe nobody saw lights in the sky anymore and the tourists just enjoyed the salmon and the peace of the deep woods. She didn’t mention any of it to Mulder. He’d want to revisit their first case, sifting through the pine straw for any evidence of the ashy dust she’d found. Some things were better left alone. A town like that needed its motels, and she and Mulder were inadvertent firestarters. But she looked up across the rows of manila folders and smiled at him, and he smiled back, and the magic was still there, just like it had always been.

Pre-Requiem: Mulder and Scully live their lives gently growing older together... until a late-life pregnancy shocks their routine.

@msrafterdark's (Ao3)

Could you write something in which Scully tells Mulder she's pregnant in the afterglow?

He stares at you for a beat longer and you watch as his gaze darts back and forth across your face. To your immense shock his expression nearly crumples before you, his eyes glassy with immediate tears.

Pre-Requiem: Scully tells Mulder about her pregnancy.

I'm not sure when you're accepting prompts but can you do one where Scully has a pregnancy scare with Mulder?

“Well, I just…you told me once that you had little desire to start a family…”

“Yeah, Scully—awhile ago.”

Pre-Requiem: Scully is shocked Mulder is happy at her news.

MSR Ficmas

He looks down at the note again, the one he found on his desk after he came back from a morning financial meeting. He was already in a testy mood about their budget being further tightened, now he just feels ill.

@ Doctor appointment, 11 am. Will call. Do NOT worry.

Pre-Requiem: Mulder and Scully are married; and Mulder is panicking over Scully's latest doctor's appointment.

Ficlets (Tumblr Prompt) - Chapter 103 (Ao3)

Content with his reasoning (oh what a rarity), she relaxes, nods, her eyes immediately growing heavy as she leans against his shoulder. She’s excited to see that house tomorrow, with its beautiful deck and an office and that gorgeous master bedroom…She’s trying to keep an open mind, but her heart has already been sold.

Post Requiem/Mulder is returned early enough to make pampering little first trimester nests for Scully.

@sigritandtheelves/DarlaBlack's

Canticle (Ao3)

She wakes sobbing in his arms, saying “No, Mulder, no!” And when he tries to tell her everything is okay, she rushes to his tiny bathroom to vomit.

He pounds on the door. He calls her Dana until she unlocks it and looks at him with haunted eyes, holding a cold washcloth to her face.

“We’re taking you to the doctor,” he says.

“You can’t go near the ship,” she says. “It’s you it wants.” Then she collapses against him.

Requiem: Mulder listens to Scully's dream and flies home with her.

Ground

 It was science and mysticism and love-magic, combining like a perfect syzygy. It was the history of them, their lives, their suffering, their work, their love, emerging of some dark alchemy into a perfect future person, housed now beneath his palm. “The baby will be like Gibson,” she said: a weapon and a target and a key.

“But it’s ours,” he whispered—it was a question and a statement.

“Yes,” she said. “Only ours. Of that I’m sure.” And therefore so much more than merely weapon, target, key.

Post Requiem: Mulder is returned in the desert two months later, to revelation upon revelation.

@mldrgrl's (Ao3)

MSR 38

Skinner was already on the phone calling for an ambulance.  The gunmen hovered, giving orders to each other to give her air, get her water, find a pillow.  Marita knelt down next to Mulder and put a hand on Scully’s ankle.

“Alex,” she said.  “Find a blanket.”

Requiem: Scully passes out in the Bureau.

Resignation

Mulder had a nagging feeling about returning to Bellefleur even before he boarded the plane. It had actually started when he'd told Scully he was leaving and she was going to stay.  He expected her to put up more of a protest than she had, but it was the look on her face that gave him the first sense of foreboding - like she didn't expect to see him again.  

Requiem: Mulder, acting on a gut instinct, resigns on the plane.

Not Again: Part 1 and Not Again: Part 1 - Gone

“Sir.”  Mulder stops Skinner from turning away and squeezes his upper arm.  “What did that man, Agent Doggett, mean when he asked if it was about the baby?”

Skinner takes off his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose.  He hesitates before he hooks them back over his ears and looks Mulder directly in the eyes.  “Agent Scully used the bureau labs yesterday afternoon to run some bloodwork on herself,” he says.

Post Requiem: Scully is abducted, instead; and Mulder is forced to work alongside a task force that suspects him.

@o6666666's

au where Mulder didn't go....

He picks her up like a bride. “We’re going to the ER.”

“What, no, Mulder, you need to—your flight.”

“Ha ha,” he says. “Very funny.”

“Mulder, I’m—“

“Scully,” he tells her, jostling her around a little to get the car keys from his pocket, “shut up, will you? I’m taking you to the hospital.”

He can tell he’s moved her when she leans her head on his chest.

Requiem: Scully faints in the garage before they even leave the FBI.

Lapsed_Scholar’s Variations

“I must have fainted,” she tried, shakily. “I was feeling a little bit strange, just now. I should be fine in a moment.” Her mouth felt peculiarly clumsy around the words.

Exasperation flared across his eyes, but he kept his voice steady and gentle. “I don’t think so, honey. I had the airport staff call an ambulance. It should be here in a moment.” Honey? In public? It was apparently worse than she thought. When she found that she didn’t have the energy to call him on it, she knew it was worse than she thought.

Requiem: All the many, different ways Mulder could have been kept from Bellefleur-- from heartfelt to frustrated to comic to close shave.

@baronessblixen's (Ao3)

Fictober Day 11 Ao3 Fictober 2020 - Chapter 11

“You let him go alone?”

“No. I- um, I might have caused a slight ruckus at the airport and, um, we were asked to leave. He drove me here.”

“What kind of ruckus, Mulder?” Scully asks, amusement in her voice.

Requiem: Mulder crashes through the hospital, determined to get to Scully's side.

Fictober Day 12 Ao3 Fictober 2020 - Chapter 12

Hesitation drips from her voice. What happened to being ready? He turns his head and rests his chin on her stomach.

“Nothing is going to go wrong, Scully,” he says.

“It might.”

“It won’t.”

Post Requiem: Scully tells her mother the good news (without having Mulder halfway out to space.)

isamariposa's Bullfrogs and Jello

He smiles, and then he's so tired of this.

Requiem: Mulder is too worried to leave, so Skinner calls up Doggett to take his place.

@moonprincess92/Moonprincess92's Are you up for writing some season 7 fluff?

And as it became more and more likely that they would be shut down, Mulder knew that now all Scully had to do was ask him, and he’d walk away in an instant. He wouldn’t risk their lives for anything. 

He certainly wouldn’t risk hers.

Requiem: Mulder leaves Skinner at the airport, afraid Scully's cancer has returned.

@rationalcashew/RationalCashew's Dark is the Way; Light is the Place (Ao3)

He moved quickly to her, barely registering the note in her hand until she handed it to him. Mulder felt the blood drain from his face when he looked at it.

Take your chance. Wave and grin. So many guys just play with sin.

Underneath the typed note was something new: an incredibly detailed eye, drawn in black ink.

Devil eye.

Requiem: Mulder returns from Bellefleur, surprised and delighted at Scully's news. The two barely have time to process before they are thrown into a Deadly Sins case.

@frangipanidownunder/Frangipanidownunder's Already Special

Diana stands, pulls out a file from a drawer. Holds the Manila folder up. “This is a contact list of all the women who have been, and who will be, used as hosts for the experiment. They are all patients of the same pair of doctors. Lev and Parenti.”

There’s a sharp silence in the room. Lizzie Gill spreads her fingers flat on the desk. Scully presses a finger under her nose.

“I know about the IVF,” Diana says and Scully scrapes her chair back across the floor. The door slams behind her.

Post Requiem: Mulder was never abducted; and he and Scully tackle Per Manum and one Diana Fowley head-on.

@ghostbustermelanieking/skuls's

oregon forest

Skinner finds them. They’re somewhere in the desert, and they’re still together. They’re shivering. Scully’s teeth are chattering. Mulder is wrapped around her, his face in her neck, his fingernails digging into her back desperately. She’s gripping him just as hard, and she squints as someone shines a light into her eyes. She’s frightened all over again until she hears Skinner’s panicked voice: “Scully? Mulder?”

Relief fills her, suddenly, and she nods, a little whimper bubbling in her throat, as her head falls limply to Mulder’s shoulder.

Skinner drives them to the hospital. Mulder won’t let go of her hand. He won’t stop touching her face, her hair. He whispers it again, the things she remembers from the ship; he whispers, “I’m sorry, Scully, I’m so, so sorry.”

Requiem: Scully runs after Mulder, catching up just in time to get abducted along with him.

AU where scully finds mulder in the Arizona desert during within/without

He and Doggett seems equally stunned at the whole thing; Mulder had never really expected her to hear him. 

Within: Scully sticks to her instincts and finds Mulder in the ship.

s8's roadrunners AU where it's mulder instead of doggett

She tells him on the bus. After Doggett is finished cutting the slug out of her, because she’s shouting that it needs to be cut out and Mulder wants to do it but he can’t. His hands are shaking too badly. So he holds hers, lets her squeeze the life out of them as she screams, as the cultists pound on the bus, as Doggett pulls out the slug and shoots it. The cultists are dismayed. Mulder can see the flashing lights through the dusty window of the bus. As Doggett runs outside to deal with it all, Scully collapses woozily against his chest. He presses a quivering hand over the bloody wound at the back of her neck, and he realizes only then that she is sobbing. “It’s okay,” he whispers in frantic reassurance, pressing one hand against the wound and wrapping his free arm around her shoulders.

Roadrunners: Mulder is returned in time to rescue his partner.

@wexleresque/hellsteeth's

lost time (Ao3)

“What now?” he says, though it may be to just himself.

“I want to look at the files you set aside for me.” Scully says.

“Do you want to be alone? There might be some upsetting stuff in there. I didn’t see a lot but…you don’t end up in the x-files for just having a really great time.”

Scully shakes her head. “No, I want you to be there. You lived this through it all, too.”

Requiem: Mulder and Scully are abducted together, and returned with seven years of memories erased.

DeadAlive Switch (Ao3)

Mulder never gets the chance to beg Scully to stay in DC. She collapses on the forest floor, wakes clammy and nauseous, eyes glassy. He runs for help, yelling desperately. When he returns, she is gone, stumbling into the forest against her will. 

Requiem: Scully is abducted instead; then returned, "dead." Months after she's buried, Mulder claws her up from the ground.

stellar_dust’s (Ao3)

Threnody 01 - Divested (Ao3) and Threnody - Domani Non Viene (Ao3)

Some time later, empty of tears and drained in his soul, Mulder rose and quickly, deliberately, packed up all of his things.... As he grabbed clothes off the floor, he couldn't bear the thought of pulling his and Scully's apart, of taking hers next door and zipping them into her own suitcase, so into his they went, together.

Requiem: Scully is abducted instead. Not only is Mulder the primary suspect, but he must also grapple with his worsening brain disease and the sudden revelation of Scully's pregnancy.

Threnody - Indelible (Ao3)

With a deep breath, she got a grip on herself. All roads lead somewhere. Eventually, there will be a town, with a phone. She raised herself on shaky legs and began to walk.

Two steps later, Dana Scully disappeared.

Post Requiem: Mulder and his new partner Doggett drive up to Skyland Mountain after a ghost sighting. The ghost happens to be someone very different than he'd been expecting.

amorfati3215/Amorfati32’s (FFN)

Unnamed 1 and Unnamed 2

“We’ll find him,” replies Mulder, his smile faltering. “The Gunmen and their friends are monitoring everything. As soon as there’s any sign of him or the other abductees we’ll know.”

“That doesn’t stop me from feeling guilty.”

Requiem: Skinner, not Mulder, is dragged off to parts unknown.

@writingwell/RocketMan/Darkstryder's (xffics) Second Coming

He was weaker than he'd led them to believe. His head rolled along the seat when Bear spun the ATV around, but Scully was holding him up, trying to keep him from falling asleep.

Post Requiem: Scully and Krycek make a deal over Mulder's return.

@lotsoforangesoutside/@lotzzoforangezoutside/ lots_of_oranges_outside's

Impossibilities (Ao3)

She has half-expected Skinner to stick her with a new partner like he did to Mulder six years ago. That didn’t happen. She’s also thought her mother would freak out about her being an unwed mother and demand a wedding before her stomach starts to show; that also didn’t happen. So many things have been happening that really shouldn’t be happening; talking to her unborn babe is pretty low on the list of things she’s never imagined happening.

Post Requiem: Scully makes a wish upon a genie's ocarina.

@cauldronoflove/thegoodthebadandthenerdy's Gravity, Oh Gravity

the first thing he sees is not scully, but rather the stars. they're a comfort--they're still there and still bright and still patterned how they should be. they burn his eyes and slide down his throat like top shelf whiskey. but they don't even come close.

because the second thing he sees is scully. scully in a shirt he's had to have seen her in a thousand times, the one he thinks is green, but isn't sure because his eyes have always betrayed him. his eyes have to be betraying him. scully and-

and         and                  and

(and his heart stops beating.)

it thunders back to life as he stumbles forward, legs feeling like they've been chopped from his body and reattached in the wrong direction. 

Post Requiem: Mulder is returned as he was taken.

@onpaperfirst's Ao3, LJ) For the first sentence prompt

He’d been pushed out the back of a truck on the side of the 5, just north of Eugene, wearing a thin t-shirt and scrub pants. His tenure on the ship itself had been short. They’d all been taken to a warehouse just across the border on the outskirts of Juárez where he had proven surprisingly adept at levitation but had refused to cooperate when asked to mind read.

Post Requiem: Mulder has been abducted, and returned, by the government.

@enigmaticdrblockhead's AliveDead

Out of some sick inner desperation, his body continues on. Blood still pumping and heart still beating, by definition he is alive. Life. To him it is nothing but lying down.

His right hand almost seems stiff. Fingers are curved upward to show a gray palm. He begs for whatever they can give. He is never lucky.

Post Requiem: Skinner finds Mulder, sick and amnesic, on the street.

@pinebluffvariants/@flukemen/scienceandmysticism's

An idea: scully becomes pregnant but mulder never "dies"

They spend their time in silence, but it’s comfortable. His pupils focus easier and easier and she wheels him around the hospital grounds. He looks up at her from his wheelchair, sadly and adorably rumpled but alive, and she bends down for a kiss. Of course their first kiss in public will be far from home, one of them just this side of peril. It only strengthens her resolve to do it again.

Post Requiem: Mulder is returned two months later, aphasic.

@virtie333's (Ao3)

Dream a Little Dream - Chapter 4

While Aldrich took them on another tour, chatting away, Doggett knew Langly and Frohike were tapping into the building's security systems. Tonight, after dark, he and Byers would sneak in, with the assistance of the computer geeks in the van outside, and do a little search and rescue. 

Post Requiem: Mulder is rescued by Doggett and TLG, and the three take down the Alien Bounty Hunter and speed off to help Scully.

The Hunter

For that past week, however, the Prey had been hunting as well, and the trail had finally stopped here, in Savannah. A beautiful town, if one cared about those things. But the Hunter was single minded. He only wanted one thing. And tonight, he was about to get it.

Post Requiem: Mulder escapes, and is returned in time to save Scully and Doggett.

@suitablyaggrieved/ScullyLovesQueequeg's Ignorance

The backseat occupant made a noise of delight upon making eye contact with Mulder, and Scully steals a glance at her partner, to see a small smile on his otherwise somber features. It was gone as soon as it had arrived, however, and his eyes shift out the window again. The backseat occupant was satisfied with this outcome, and he too turned his attention to the slow moving blurs that paint the window as the car moves along the side streets.

Post Requiem: Mulder is returned a year later, and suspiciously reacclimates to his new life.

@contrivedcoincidences6/Spooky66/geektime66’s AU 5 HC

“Hello Ms. Scully, this is Amy from Holy Cross Hospital, we’ve been trying to reach you from your other numbers.”

Scully’s brows draw together. In years past she would have thought they were calling about Mulder.

“Yes?”

“A man was checked in a few days ago with no id. Today he started talking and asked for you before he fell back asleep, we were unable to get a name.”

Scully’s heart beats in her ears. She knows it’s not Mulder but she doesn’t know who else it could be. 

Post Requiem: Scully tries to move on... until Mulder is returned a year and a half later.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

my favorite scully moments from s4

in episode 1, she cracks encrypted messages, commenting that “you say ‘a twenty letter code’ to any scientist and they immediately think ‘protein amino acid sequence code’, which is what this turned out to be” <- and that is genius at work right there!!

skinner pulling her aside to ask “do you realize what you are promoting?” when she puts together there's a whole international smallpox conspiracy, and she cuts him off with a clear “i am a SCIENTIST, sir” <- that is right!! you tell him!!!

trying and failing to come up with a theory for how the photos in episode 4 became terrifying: “plus, the film is two years out of date” “oh” “the-the photographic chemistry could have changed” “uh-huh” “the-the dyes fade… they… alright, that’s your theory?” (had me absolutely giggling)

we also learn in episode 4 that she took german in college <3

in episode 6, she spends a great deal of time explaining the science behind sleeping pills and their controversial effects

(and i also loved her fury that such an advanced facility was being used for plastic surgery rather than life-saving care)

tearing into the culture of lawlessness while testifying in episode 9; talking about how she left the medical field to protect the innocent and punish the guilty- such an excellent moment, more of that good old fashioned scully righteous rage combined with inherent optimism- and her continuing to read her statement despite the council repeatedly cutting her off (as she should!)

choosing to be jailed rather than reveal where mulder was located, because she will do the right thing no matter the consequences (and is also just a really great friend)

((and bonus points for skinner checking up on her: “you holding up alright?” “i’ve got plenty to read”, she says, as she flips through medical texts))

“it is my natural inclination to believe they are acting in the best interest of the truth… but i am not inclined to follow my own judgment in this case” (casting aside her own optimism in the face of such corruption, understanding her personal bias and objectively putting it to the side… i admire her ability to do so)

((but still. after all she has been through, it is natural for her to believe that the government means well. it's incredible))

this exchange from episode 12: “where could he hide an adult body where it wouldn’t be found?” “i’ll show you” (cut to them sorting through the medical waste, mulder looking horrified as she casually says she needs his longer arms to sift through the body parts)

((but isn't it just great that she knew the answer to that question instantly?))

in episode 12, when she realizes that leonard betts trying to kill her means she has cancer, she responds to mulder saying she should be proud of stopping him with a quiet “i just want to go home”

(we get another "i'm going home" moment in episode 22, after their confrontation in the hallway about her fears, and the exhaustion contained in those few words could make me weep)

in episode 14, she writes letters saying goodbye to mulder, trying to convince him her inevitable death was not his fault: “and if the darkness should have swallowed me as you read this, you must never think there was the possibility of some secret intervention, something you might have done”, she wrote, knowing how he would blame himself, trying to spare his feelings of guilt even as she knew she had so little time left

later on, her nose starts bleeding while they're making an arrest; “quit staring at me, i’m fine!”, she says in the voice of someone who is deeply not fine, her helplessness inspiring a fury that thrashes about and digs its claws into everything inch of her

how she told mulder she was going to die, but insisted to her mother that she was fine- her mother is furious she didn’t tell her she was sick, shaking in fear, giving her a kiss and a hug, and saying that she is her only daughter now as they hold each other. while she can tell mulder the truth, she can't find the words to tell her mom how bad things really are

writing in her journal that she needs to draw strength from mulder, needs someone to lean on, even though she works so hard to be entirely self-sufficient; “i need to know you’re out there if i’m ever to see through this”

(contrast this with her earlier attempts to do absolutely every single thing by herself and bask in the character growth)

((but then she REJECTS what she wrote in the journal, saying that she isn’t giving up, and she has so much to prove to herself and her family- they have the conversation in the hallway that made me cry and cheer and yell and experience every emotion in between as she realizes that she is something worth fighting for))

in episode 18, she tries her best to save pendrell, telling him that “we still haven’t celebrated my birthday, pendrell; i’m not gonna let you off the hook like this” - it's the way she spent his last moments on earth trying to make him smile that gets me so emotional

later, she's having this very tense face off with skinner until he notices she was trying to hide her nosebleed; he grabs her hand and says “i have a responsibility for the safety of the agents under my supervision, agent scully. i’m not going to put another agent’s life in jeopardy just to keep her out in the field”, and she assures him she’s okay with tears in her eyes (the way he pierced through her best attempts at a stony exterior… i'm emotional)

they visit max fenig’s trailer again and she still HATED it lmao, she says “i remember being amazed at what some people will call a home”

(and then she disses the very bare hotel room they visit in the next episode, saying “i’m not sure if ‘living’ is the word i would use to describe this space” - give her all of the blankets and throw pillows, she wants a cozy house)

((this, combined with her saying "i want to go home" when she is experiencing moments of earth-shattering grief, made me realize how important to her it is that she have a nice, comfortable, safe space for herself))

smirking at her own stupid joke in episode 19; “what was he wearing, a long black robe and carrying a scythe?”

she knows the lowest temperature a human body has ever reached and survived (70 degrees) and also uses the phrase “nuclear magnetic resident spectra”, both of which made my heart skip a few beats

“okay, so this photo that was never taken, when was it never taken?” <- SEVERELY underappreciated line!!!!

in the opening of episode 20, she starts reciting facts about babies born with extra appendages in incredible detail, and i want to know so badly why she is educated on the subject. scully, please give us the story time video

she also mentions her plans to write an article on “diminished acetylcholine production in recidivist offenders” when she goes home from work. because that is how she spends her evenings, very casual. no big deal (said with great sarcasm)

her realization in episode 22 that the killer had been switching around the rings on each victim’s fingers, based on some blurry photos (it was a very good catch!)

talking to her therapist, admitting she struggles to talk about her fears, and that mulder’s passion has been a source of strength during her sickness

(we then, very briefly, see her praying in her nightgown in her apartment, before mulder knocks on the door to ask for her medical opinion. i find that shot so compelling, especially when you contrast it with her saying in the finale that she is not ready to return to the church- it must be too personal to talk about, god must be something she wants to experience on her own at this point in her life)

((and she grapples with the revelation that everyone else who had seen the spirits had been dying, knowing what it means for herself))

the way she shoots the evil nurse in the shoulder not to kill her, but to incapacitate her… scully, your aim is legendary

fun facts with scully, episode 23 edition: dostoyevsky had waxman-geschwind syndrome!

VERY FIRMLY telling mulder that he NEEDS to get to the hospital, and when he continually refuses, instead asking to go on a road trip, she agrees... ONLY on the condition that she drives!!!!

and when his terrible trauma ketamine trip culminates in him almost shooting her and himself, she manages to talk sense into him, before she rests her entire body on him, shielding him, not letting him move, weighing him down like an anchor back to reality

(her being the one taking charge in this episode even while she feels she is losing so much of her agency in her life makes me so emotional)

when mulder interrupts her family dinner in episode 24 to go on a quest for alien answers, she reminds him that this is his goal, and not hers. when he tries to convince her, she refuses to budge- it was frustrating to watch him put her in that situation, but amazing to watch her stand her ground

(and the fact that she wasn’t able to tell him her cancer was getting much worse is also so fascinating to me- why couldn't she bear to break it to him? would saying it aloud make it real?)

and of course, her tracking down the dude that shoved her down the stairs and nearly hitting him with her car (it was deeply satisfying)

[leiascully]

X-Files OctoberFicFest Day 31: Caller ID

"Hello?"

"Hi, Dana."

"Oh... Bill. I thought you were Mom." Scully leaned back on the pillows piled up against the headboard of her bed.

"Is this a bad time?" Bill asked.

"Um, no," Scully said. "Just... doing the crossword."

"Not at mass," Bill said disapprovingly.

"Neither are you," Scully said in a sweet voice. She gasped.

"You okay?" Bill said.

"Uh, yeah," Scully said. "I... dropped my pen. Surprised myself."

"Of course you do it in pen," Bill said, like it was a stain on her character.

Sculy sighed and shifted on her pillows. "Were you... were you calling about something in particular?"

"Tara thought we should host Easter dinner this year," Bill said with an air of self-importance. As if he would be doing any of the work. "Can you make it?"

"It's... January," Scully said.

"I know how hard it is to get on your calendar," Bill said.

"Mm," Scully said. "Well. I'll pencil it in."

"You'll pencil it in." He sounded disappointed. As if he had the right to be disappointed in her.

"Ye-esss," she said. "I'll pencil it in. I can't... guarantee anything. My job... you know it's... irregular."

"Easter's important, Dana," Bill said. "It's important to Tara. And Mom."

"And God?" Scully asked in a dry voice. "Oh. Well. I'll pencil it in and then... go over it. Again. So it's hard... to erase."

"Whatever you say," Bill said. She could hear him frowning. She didn't give a damn.

"I'll try." She made a startled noise. "Oops."

Bill scoffed. "Your pen?"

"Yeah. Um. It's slippery," she said.

"Maybe you should use it to write Easter dinner on your calendar," he sniped. "Before you drop it again."

"Oh," she said. "Oh! I have to go. Bye." She hung up the phone before he could respond and yanked the cord out of the wall. "Oh, Mulder, oh, God." She wove her hands through his hair, tugging. "Ohhhh don't stop, please."

Mulder hummed against her clit, sounding smug. His tongue traced what had to be mystic runes, some kind of spell; nothing had ever felt so good and she told him so, several times, increasingly loudly and incoherently.

When she came it was like the scene in Star Wars when they jumped to light speed and the stars blurred into lines and the universe moved around them. She was transported; she was pure energy; she was jolted from her mundane life to a new reality of exquisite and infinite pleasure as Mulder pinned her hips and closed his eyes like her cunt was somewhere holy. She trembled under him, screamed his name like a profane prayer. He held her down and it felt like an embrace.

She recovered slowly, gasping when Mulder moved away. She missed his mouth, but she was too sensitive for the rasp of his tongue.

"I really wanted to make you come while you were on the phone," he said. He wiped his face with one hand. It seemed to be a fruitless effort: his mouth and chin still glistened with her wetness.

"Yeah, well, Bill is the mind-killer," Scully said.

Mulder looked charmed, as he always did when she made some kind of nerdy reference, as if she hadn't been the kind of kid who read every book she could get her hands on. He eased his way up her body, trailing a path of kisses from her knee to her shoulder. When he kissed her mouth, she tasted herself on his lips. Somehow that was even more of a turn-on.

"What are you penciling in?" he murmured, kissing his way back down her neck.

"Ohhhhhh," she said. "Um, Easter dinner."

"Hmm," Mulder said. "Am I invited?"

"Do you want to come?"

"Very much," Mulder said, nuzzling under her ear. "And I'd like to attend Easter dinner."

"Ha," she said. "It's at Bill and Tara's, apparently."

"Do you get a plus one?"

"Usually they invite someone for me," she said. "One of Mom's friend's sons."

"How thrilling." Mulder nibbled on her ear lobe. "Do you think you'll take him home?"

She moaned a little. "No, I suspect I'll be previously engaged."

"Well," Mulder said, "I know it's not Easter yet, and I know you had a pretty, uh, full morning, but I'm happy to report a miracle: he is risen."

"He being your cock, in this case, I assume" she said, reaching for it. "Hmm. He is risen indeed."

"Amen," Mulder said solemnly.

"Mulder?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think you could make time to fuck me through the mattress?"

"You're the only thing on my calendar," he promised, and made her wishes come true.

[cecilysass]

Milagro Fic Recommendations

These are good for any time of year, of course, not just February 14. But here are my favorite fics related to the season 6 episode Milagro, a long time favorite. (And @sisterspooky1013's favorite episode of all time: happy VD, girl!) I’ve been reading and sifting through these for some time, and I have tried to include some from all eras: newer AO3 fics, some written right after the ep aired, etc. But I'm sure I've missed some, so hit me with your own faves, please.

Because of Milagro's ending, this entire genre of fic tends to be heavy on the hurt/comfort and angst (which is fiiiiine by me), but that’s not all that’s here. Many of these are smutty, but not all.

Adagio - Terma99 A meditative, peaceful take on the aftermath of Milagro by a veteran author that includes both agents realizing something they had learned. Lovely.

Alma - 6hoursgirl (@sixhours) A lovely hurt/comfort Milagro piece. This one is Mulder POV, which is a little less common for post-Milagro, I think, and I like this characterization of Mulder as desperately wanting to help Scully, desperately wanting to protect her, but also a tiny bit scared of the intimacy and relationship he feels they’re on the cusp of. He’s so good-hearted and also a little dysfunctional here, and I love it.

Bated Breath - dreamingofscully (@dreamingofscully) This one has an original take on Scully's experience; it leaves Scully with clarity and new direction in her relationship with Mulder. DreamingofScully tends to write a more confident, in-charge Scully in the MSR than some do, and I appreciate it.

Beyond the Strokes of a Typewriter - storybycorey (@storybycorey) When Scully is stricken and ashamed that it’s been so long since anyone has seen her as a woman as Padgett did, Mulder is pushed to revelations. Mulder 3rd person POV. Very good smut build up. And nobody does a gorgeous feelings reveal from Mulder like storeybycorey, man.

I Believe - Diana Battis There are a lot of lovely, heartfelt hurt/comfort fics about the aftermath of Milagro (for obvious reasons), but this one is especially well done. Viewed from Scully’s third person point of view, it focuses on Mulder’s capacity for tenderness and guilt. Plus some smut.

Don’t Look Up - ArtemisX5 After Padgett's hallway revelation, Scully is horrified that she has no secrets left. But you know, Mulder is much slower on the draw than she gives him credit for. There is also such moving hurt/comfort in this.

Intimacies with Strangers -mldrgrl (@mldrgrl) This mid- and post- Milagro piece has Mulder and Scully simmering in tension and then boiling over. Their relationship is complex and painfully entangled, and I love how it plays out. There is also excellent Scully characterization. This one helps me to get more fully why she might have been drawn to Padgett initially, something I struggle with in the episode.

La Madrugada - h0ldthiscat A carefully told tale of RST that takes both characters seriously and is sincerely moving. Excellent.

Lacuna - Aloysia_Virgata (@aloysiavirgata) This is a longer work, not really a classic post ep per se. But I love this moody, angsty casefile set right after Milagro. This Scully has not come to terms with her emotions, is thoroughly freaked by how she reacted to Padgett, and hasn't even entirely worked out how she feels about Mulder. There is Scully/other here, but the ship is steering home. The end of this is so moving, but cw: dark themes in the casefile, extreme violence against children, traumatized agents.

Still Life - Seek_Its_Opposite (@seek-its-opposite) Ah, this is such a thoughtful and exquisitely written Scully character piece — and it contains some truly beautiful insights about Mulder, too. It suggests the heartbreaking idea that Mulder’s way of showing Scully respect (giving her distance) is continually hurting her. So tragic (and consistent with canon, e.g. Never Again.) One memorable line: “Every one of their fights is about how to care for one another, every last one.”

Alma Gemela - matchingfabric (@matchingfabric) After the events of Milagro, Scully (and Mulder) get accustomed to platonically sharing a bed for comfort. This is a slightly different take on post-Milagro. Exceptionally, irresistibly sweet. Oh, and smutty.

What did I miss? Tell me. And yes, I'm working on my own short Milagro fic that will be coming soon-ish.

[deathsbestgirl]

idk how to write reviews at all but i think perihelion dealt with with msiv so well. its all pain & grief & denial that we see in the finale, its complicated and i never felt it reflected what they truly believed or felt. mulder & scully just went through hell. mulder watched his biological father shoot him, they watched william die after trying so hard to find him, and not abandon him. the whole revival is about william even if we don't see him until s11.

perihelion assumes mulder & scully believe csm, because it's something they've both always feared. scully was going to leave csm in en ami because she was suspicious. mulder was always afraid william was an experiment, much like emily. and his birth was traumatic for not just scully & william, but mulder & everyone who helped them (doggett, reyes, skinner).

mulder & scully are so vulnerable when it comes to william, and that's literally what the whole thing is about. and now scully is pregnant again, and they have another child coming under questionable circumstances again!! and now they have more reason for concern because of scully's dna, like that's part of why scully was reignited, why she wanted to find william (and everything in home again with losing her mother, and the visions jackson sent to her).

i don't think you can fault scully or mulder for believing. sure, they have experience with csm, maybe they should know better. but they're also constantly discovering they've possibly believed lies. and this is personal.

i think their relationship develops perfectly in it. they've decided to coparent and move in together. they're both terrified to fail again. what if the x files is all that ties them together, and they're about to lose them again? what if sleeping together doesn't mean the same thing to the other as it does to them? their communication has improved greatly, but they're still mulder & scully, always trying to protect each other & not put the other through more hell than necessary. always extremely independent, as "codependent" as they can be.

and as we have seen many times before, their coping mechanisms conflict and it's addressed. they're together but they're not, as with most of the series. but now it's from a place of knowing what being together is, how their personal struggles impact the other, and a deeper understanding of themselves. and eventually, this only gets them closer. they've always moved at their own pace and perihelion is no different.

it isn't fanfiction, it's meant to fit in with the series and follow the arc of the revival, and take it further. i think it makes complete sense with the scope of the show, and the interests of people today.

and i know i'm probably one of the few in fandom who loves it, but it has so much goodness. the words & phrases & names claudia gray uses are a callback to so many episodes, some widely loved scenes. scully has a friend! she's temporarily working a job maybe harder than her last job as a doctor (until they know the fate of the x files) and it's extremely difficult for her. mulder has no idea what he's gonna do (they'll figure it out). there are new players, some closely related to ones we already know and others who are basically Brand New.

idk!! but in talking about the revival, i also felt the need to throw my two cents in about perihelion. i'm just a big fan and i hope she makes it a series.

[atths--twice]

A Bit of Nostalgia

Mulder invites Scully over for an evening free of any discussions of work or worries.

Hello there. It's been a bit since I've posted. Had some personal issues that needed all my attention and my writing took a backseat. Things are turning around and looking better so I'm here to post the next Fictober story. While this is not a birthday story, it is Mulder's month so this story seems fitting to be posted today. 💓🎃

October 1999

Mulder pulled his door open, grinning at Scully. 

“Hello,” she said, her eyebrows knitting together, looking him up and down. 

“Hi.” 

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” 

“Life,” he said with a shrug, stepping aside to let her enter, although she remained in the hallway. 

“Life?” she asked and he nodded, his smile growing. 

“Yes. Tonight I am happy to be living this life.” 

“Okay,” she said with a slight nod. 

“You gonna come in? Or just keep standing there?” 

“Is there a gas leak in your apartment?” she asked and he laughed, shaking his head. 

“Not that I’m aware of,” he said, beckoning her to come inside. 

“I’ll trust you,” she said, stepping across the threshold and then stopping in her tracks, pointing at the table. “What’s that?” 

“Oh, Scully,” he said, nudging her to keep moving so he could shut the door. “You’re an intelligent person. Surely you recognize a pumpkin when you see one.” 

“Or two?” she asked, looking at him. 

“Yes. There are two pumpkins. There are two of us, hence I got two.” 

“For what reason?” 

“Scully, Scully, Scully,” he said, shaking his head and reaching out to take her coat. “It’s October. What do we do with pumpkins in October?” 

“We, Mulder?” she asked, shrugging off her coat and crossing her arms. “We have never done anything with pumpkins.” 

“Exactly,” he said, hanging her coat on his coat rack. “We never have and so it needed to be rectified.” 

“So you bought pumpkins for us to carve?” she asked, looking at him with a half smile. 

“Yup!” he said, clapping and then rubbing his hands together. “I have a stack of newspapers I’ve been meaning to toss out that we can lay out on the table, spoons for scooping, and sharp knives for carving. We’re goin’ full board nostalgic here.” 

“Is that why you invited me over? Did you have this specific activity in mind?” she asked, stepping closer to the table and touching each of the pumpkins. “Because I remember you saying something about dinner and yet all I see are these pumpkins.” 

“Dinner is on the way. I ordered some Chinese food just a few minutes ago when I got home from the store. It should be here soon.” 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve carved a pumpkin,” she mused, glancing at him. 

“For me too. It should be fun.” He grinned as she looked back at the pumpkins. 

“I want this one,” she said, touching the rounder of the two. 

“Whatever you want,” he said, nodding at her. 

“But I want to eat first. No getting sidetracked.” 

“Of course not. I would never expect you to do anything on an empty stomach,” he said and she snorted, turning her head to look at him. 

“You’re so full of shit,” she said. 

“Sheesh. Such language.” 

She rolled her eyes and he smiled, watching as she patted her pumpkin. A knock sounded at the door and he turned around to answer it. 

The pumpkins were moved aside as they ate, and he watched how often her eyes fell on them, most likely imagining how it would look carved. 

When the food had been put away, he covered the table in newspaper while she went to use the bathroom. Two large bowls, different sized spoons, and knives were laid beside the pumpkins along with a couple of kitchen towels. 

“Okay. Let’s do this,” she said, walking back into the room. 

He looked up and froze for a moment, taking in the sight of her. She had changed out of her black sweater and was now wearing one of his gray t-shirts. 

“Well, go ahead and help yourself,” he said, hoping to cover how the sight of her in his clothes made him feel. 

“Thanks. I did,” she said, looking down at his shirt. “Seeing as how I wasn’t informed about the evening’s activities, I needed something different to wear than my sweater. It was expensive and I didn’t want to get pumpkin guts on it. So… I borrowed a shirt. That’s okay, right?” She raised her eyes to his and he had to push aside his myriad of thoughts, keeping his face neutral. 

“Ye… yeah… it’s fine. Not a problem.” 

“Good,” she said, smiling as she stepped past him and stood in front of her pumpkin. He cleared his throat and then picked up a knife, handing it to her. 

“Ready?” 

“I’m always ready to slice and dice,” she said and he laughed with a nod. 

They cut the tops off the pumpkins and began to scoop out the insides. 

“Ugh,” he said, separating the seeds and dropping them into a bowl. “I forgot how this feels.” 

“It’s not as bad as intestines,” she said, doing the same as she shrugged. 

“Come on,” he said, shaking his head and making a face. 

“You started it,” she said, smiling at him as she picked up her spoon, continuing to scoop out her pumpkin. 

When the insides were clean, they sat down to begin carving. He watched her, the concentrated expression on her face causing him to smile. 

Large pieces of pumpkin lay on the table when she set down her knife and looked up at him. 

“You done?” 

“Yeah,” he said. 

“You think yours is better than mine?” 

He glanced at the triangle eyes, the round nose, and large gaping mouth he had cut into his pumpkin, knowing it was quite simplistic. 

“No. Not a chance.” 

“Good. Because mine’s really good.” 

“Let’s see it then. Prove it,” he said, smiling and raising his eyebrows. She smiled back, turning her pumpkin around, and he laughed. 

She had made triangle eyes as well, but had added eyelashes and eyebrows, one of them raised higher than the other. The nose was also triangle and the mouth was shaped into a happy, wide smile. 

“That’s really good. I like the eyelashes.” 

“Hmm,” she hummed, looking at the pumpkin. “I thought you’d say the eyebrow.” She looked at him, raising hers to match the expression she had carved and he laughed. 

“Yeah. I like them both.” 

“Let me see yours.” 

He turned his pumpkin around and she shook her head as she smiled. 

“You went traditional. Nostalgic, just like you wanted. I like it.” 

“Thanks. I’m pretty proud of him. His name’s Greg, by the way.”

“Greg. Nice,” she said, laughing through her nose. “I didn’t name mine.” 

“Hmm,” he hummed, sitting back with a deep breath and staring at her pumpkin. “I think she looks like a LuEllen.” 

“LuEllen?” she asked with a laugh. 

“Hell yeah. But LuLu for short. She’s definitely a LuLu.” 

“Okay. LuLu it is then.” He nodded, holding her gaze as he smiled. She looked back down at his pumpkin and then at the mess on the table. “Should we clean up this mess and then cook the seeds?” 

“Yeah. That sounds good. Although I don’t know how to do that.” 

“Well,” she said, standing up and beginning to clear up the mess. “It’s lucky you invited me over since I do know how.” 

“Don’t look, Greg. Or you LuLu,” he said, standing up and turning them to face the wall. “We’re about to cook up your insides.” 

“Jesus, Mulder,” she said, shaking her head as she laughed. 

Sitting on the couch a couple of hours later, their feet up on the coffee table, they munched on the seeds from the bowl that sat between them. The only light in the room came from the pumpkins, lit by the two emergency candles he had found in the back of a kitchen drawer, and set on the two round tables across from them. 

“Greg gives off a lot of light,” she said. 

“He can’t really avoid it, with a mouth that large,” he said, grabbing a handful of seeds and putting them in his mouth. She snorted out a laugh and he smiled as he chewed, watching as she brushed absentmindedly at his shirt that she still wore, which continued to give him an internal thrill. 

“I was thinking as I was carving the pumpkin-”

“LuEllen,” he said and she exhaled a laugh. 

“LuEllen,” she agreed with a nod. “Anyway, I was thinking about a story my aunt used to tell us.” 

“Would this, by chance, be your Irish Aunt Olive?” 

“It would,” she said with a smile. 

“Well, this should be good then.” 

“Why?” 

“Ireland? The old country? Nostalgia, Scully. The theme of our evening. Come on now,” he said, picking up a few more seeds. 

“Anyway,” she said again. “She used to tell us about how they carved faces into turnips and potatoes in Ireland.” 

“Turnips? Oh, I’d cut myself for sure if I was carving into a turnip. That’s a given. Wait… is a turnip smaller than a potato?” 

“Depends on the potato, I suppose,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “A potato is softer, of course, but I feel the turnip would be better, as it would last longer once it was cut into. Especially if the reason for the carvings was to keep Stingy Jack away from your home.” 

“Stingy Jack?” 

“You’ve never heard about Stingy Jack?” she asked, looking at him incredulously. 

“Don’t think so,” he said, shaking his head. “Tell me about him.” 

“Well, what I remember is that he was an old, stingy, curmudgeon of a man-”

“Hence his name,” he said. 

“Are you gonna keep interrupting or do you want to hear the story?” 

“Sorry. Please, go ahead,” he said, putting a few more seeds in his mouth and then crossing his arms. 

“Thank you,” she said, shaking her head. “So he was a stingy and rude man who one day helped an old man, who was actually an angel in disguise.” 

“Hmm,” he hummed and she looked at him with narrowed eyes. “What? I didn’t say anything!” 

“Hmm,” she hummed in a mocking tone and he mimed locking his lips, chewing silently on the pumpkin seeds. “So, as I was saying, the angel revealed themself to Jack and granted him three wishes for his kindness. But, seeing as how he was truly a stingy and unkind person, he used the wishes to bring punishment to others and as a result, the angel didn't let him enter Heaven.” 

He looked at her and put his fingers to his lips, beginning to unzip them, when she put a hand up. 

“I’m not done yet, just hold on.” 

He nodded, re-zipping his lips and she smiled.  

“He wasn’t allowed into Heaven, but nor was he allowed into Hell because when Satan had heard of all he had done and he attempted to drag him to Hell as punishment, Jack deflected and tricked him, making him look foolish. So Satan basically told him to get fucked and he was condemned to roam the world between the two planes with only a hollowed out turnip, that contained a small ember of light, to guide his path,” she said and he smiled. “People then carved turnips to ward off the evil spirits, like Stingy Jack, that may be roaming around us, though we cannot see them.” She looked at him and nodded. “You may speak now.” 

He mimed unzipping his lips slowly, and then tossing the key away, as she rolled her eyes with a smile. 

“You believe that, but you don’t believe in ghosts?” he asked and she shook her head. 

“No, I don’t believe in ghosts. But, I’m not saying I believe that story either. It’s just something I was told as a child.” 

“I see,” he said, nodding slowly and she bumped his shoulder with her own. 

“It’s only a story.”

“I don’t know,” he said, looking at his pumpkin. “I think Greg could ward them off. Any spirits really, but especially Stingy Jack.” 

“With that smile, the spirits would definitely wonder what’s going on in his head,” she said and he laughed quietly. 

“LuEllen could do it as well, though in a different way.” 

“How do you mean?” 

“She’d play it cool… bat her eyelashes, draw them in sweetly, and then she’d strike with precision and no remorse.” 

“I could see that,” she agreed, nodding as she put another pumpkin seed in her mouth and he smiled. The flame of the candle sparked brighter for just a second and she bumped his shoulder again. “Oh, did you see that?!”

“I did,” he said, staring at the pumpkin, almost willing it to happen again, even though he knew it was most likely only a small draft. 

“Good thing you thought about getting the pumpkins tonight, huh?” she asked in a teasing tone. 

“Yeah,” he said with a nod, wondering if it was only a draft. “Although, I didn’t expect there to be spirits here…” 

“Mulder,” she laughed, shaking her head. 

“What?” 

“You just never fail to surprise me.” She smiled as he turned his head to look at her. 

“That’s good, right?” he asked, slightly teasing, but also serious. 

“Yeah. It is,” she said, chewing on another seed as she nodded, continuing to smile. 

The candlelight crackled and then flickered again, causing them to both look over at the pumpkins. 

“Got another one,” she said and he smiled. 

“Or it was just a draft,” he said quietly. 

“Nah. Not tonight,” she whispered, shaking her head, and his smile grew. 

“Not tonight,” he agreed. 

He felt her lean against him, sighing softly as they continued to watch the dancing candlelight in the pumpkins, keeping the evil spirits away.  

Because tonight, it was definitely not a draft.

[carefulfears]

so ... demons coming right after elegy, in the middle of the cancer arc is a crazy choice and i know it means something. please share all your big brain thoughts on mulder & demons?

well...it's kind of like...in elegy, they're being haunted by the future (omens of scully's impending death), in demons, they're haunted by the past (visions from before samantha disappeared). both are highly metaphorical, and both are intrusive, even though he sought out the second. the first is too much. the second isn't enough. and after elegy it's becoming clear that...nothing will be enough. she is so close to death that she can see it. she can't...hide it from him, anymore. she's been dying for a long time. and she doesn't make him face it. she never has that moment where she tells him to just get over it. she never has that moment where she tells him to just accept it, stop avoiding it. she goes to all of her appointments alone. she bleeds alone. even in elegy when they almost argue over it, she tells him that she is fine, and then she goes outside and cries in her car.

but she's not fine, she's so close to death that she can see it, and he knows that. he's so eternally aware. mulder's fatal flaw is that he can see the world, he understands every underlying system, he knows people and how they think. and when he says "i refuse to believe that," he knows that doesn't make it go away. in elegy, he tells her that he's afraid, and she tells him that she's fine. it is a system established long before this particular death sentence.

in the script notes for the last scene of never again, it is remarked that: “if it were ever going to happen, it would be now. as they maintain the silence.”

the way i see it, never again is when they knew. they are not escaping each other. they are dying together. you are coming down with me. (hand in unlovable hand). and then, in the very next episode, comes a diagnosis. they are dying together. and they are dying now. silence is maintained.

so what does she do, after her diagnosis? she buys a journal, and she writes. she writes him letter after letter after letter. begging forgiveness. begging grace. begging courage.

the page that he found, that he read, this is what it said:

“mulder, i feel you close, though i know that you are now pursuing your own path. for that i am grateful- more than i could ever express. i need to know you’re out there if i am ever to see through this.”

i need to know you’re out there. a few months later, in demons, a gun to his chin on the floor of his childhood home, does she feel that he’ll be “out there”? she finds out she doesn’t have much longer to live, maybe weeks, in the next episode, and she doesn’t tell him. she maintains silence.

there’s so much discourse over the choices that mulder makes in demons…it was selfish, it was stupid, it was confusing…i see people ask all the time why he would willingly do something that causes everyone to kill themselves. the answer, of course, is that mulder wants to kill himself. that’s not new, we all watched pusher. (scully watched too). in redux it’s revealed that the “gethsemane” of the episode directly following demons is not scully’s inevitable and closely impending death, it’s mulder alone in his apartment with a gun.

i’m really uninterested in attempting to moralize these decisions…what’s “selfish” at the end of the world? i think demons makes people uncomfortable. to watch a dying woman care for her reckless partner. i also think that’s…the point.

demons is desperate. there’s an obvious desperation in mulder, of course, but also in scully.

throughout season four, we’re watching scully die. she’s getting smaller. she’s getting weaker. she’s getting sicker. but as it progresses, scully is realizing that mulder is dying too. and it all culminates in demons. and what can she do but be afraid? what can she do but get down on the ground and hold him? what can she do but write about what she fears will happen to him? she won’t be there.

nothing will ever be enough after elegy. and there’s nothing that he can do that’s enough. he can’t save her (so he thinks). and…he can’t solve the quest before she dies. he can’t give her the answers that she’s dying for. demons to me is such a last ditch effort. such a hail mary. she deserved to know the capital t Truth, before she’s gone. and i think they both know that maybe, when she is gone, it will never be found.

[take-it-on-the-run]

A Pearl

Fox Mulder x Dana Scully

No matter how desperately he hung onto her cross around his neck, praying to a God he didn’t believe in, she was still there—sleeping, so gently, despite the devices hooked on and through her.

Word Count: 1.7k

Tags: ANGST, loss, not comfortless, but not exactly outwardly comforting, set in season 2's coma arc, implied depression, Mulder and Scully both need hugs, mentions of hospitals, comas and medical devices, brief mention of killing and death

Characters: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Margaret Scully, Melissa Scully, Duane Barry (mentioned)

Read it on AO3!

Taglist: @somethingsomethingcranberries, @sst4r-ddu5t, @ghostlyaccurate, @butterclove

Want to join (or leave) the taglist? Click here!

A/N: Mitski Title! Thank you for checking this fic out, as it's my first MSR/TXF-related writing! This idea mainly came from a post talking about how Mulder not taking off Scully's necklace before he gave it back would've been feral, and I completely agree. Set in Scully's S2 coma/post-abduction arc, Mulder is just a sap who can't help but be in love with Scully. Unbeta'd, every mistake is mine, and I hope you enjoy!

MSR Masterlist | The X-Files Masterlist | Main Page Masterlist

Dana.

He liked that name.

It thundered against his mind constantly, pruning memories drenched in sadness.

It fit her well. He’d searched it out in a book of baby names and their meanings while sitting in a waiting room during one of their first cases.

Wise. Generous. Brave. A pearl.

Maybe, years and years down the line, he’d give his daughter the same name.

He wouldn’t have the heart to tell this hypothetical girl’s mother where the name came from. That, while he was at the FBI, he had a partner he would kill and die for. Because of his inability to let sleeping dogs lie, she was attacked in her home, kidnapped, and never woke up from the coma she was found in.

He could lie and say it was a family name.

But that wasn’t a lie.

She was family.

No matter how desperately he hung onto her cross around his neck, praying to a God he didn’t believe in, she was still there—sleeping, so gently, despite the devices hooked on and through her.

He could barely look at her without wanting to sob, the guilt and rage rushing to him all at once.

If he’d only picked up his phone.

Now, every time it rings, he jumps. He doesn’t mean to, and it gets him more looks than before, but he can’t help it. He cranked the ringer after he missed her call. He wasn’t going to miss anyone’s call ever again.

When he first saw Mrs. Scully and Melissa perched over her for the first time, he could barely get his feet to move. He was shocked he was allowed back into the hospital after the scene he caused when he first came.

All of the bitter sleepless nights he spent thinking of her had come to a rolling boil, sputtering out of the pot as he tugged his shoes on. Sleep-deprived, unshaven, and clutching her cross on his neck, he shot up the highway at Mach speeds, only to get carried out by two security guards as he screamed obscenities and threats at the hospital staff.

Remaining cemented to the ground, he watched her family mourn. Mrs. Scully was holding Dana’s hand, resting her head against her gently rising chest as she muttered prayers under her breath. Melissa’s eyes were closed, and her hands hovered above her sister’s body, moving slowly. Her family, however different in their beliefs, had come to her side, praying in the way each of them knew how.

If either noticed he was wearing her necklace, they didn’t mention it. He’d tried giving it back to Mrs. Scully earlier, but she told him to keep it for when he could give it back.

When he thinks of those weeks he spent searching for her, finding Duane Barry on the mountain, and nearly killing him on the spot, all he can feel is an empty hole where his emotions should be.

If there was justice in the world, Duane would’ve served his sentence with a bullet to the skull the moment they met. If there was justice, he wouldn’t have had to hear that the ventilation she was on wouldn’t likely support her much longer.

He was invited to stay and discuss the matter at hand, but he knew his heart would collapse in on itself if he even thought about it.

He drove home slowly, cruising through different side streets he’d never taken. His apartment was always within reach, but he could barely bring himself to turn into his parking spot. The longer he drove, the longer he could delay the inevitable.

His resignation letter sat askew on his desk, matching the rest of his living space that had been ransacked by the Cancer Man’s men. Skinner refused the letter and told him it was no use giving up on the bureau now.

Mulder didn’t tell him there was no use in the bureau without his partner. Even when Skinner reopened the X-files, he couldn’t get himself to go through them as he had when she was at his side.

Slinging himself on his couch, he could smell the days without showering or sleeping radiating off him, but he could barely get his suit jacket off, let alone drag himself to the shower.

Crushing his body against the worn leather, staring blankly at the disconnected television, he could almost close his eyes and pretend he was in a motel with her again. He tuned the sound of his radiator running to become the soft snoring she would always insist didn’t happen, the wind batting against the windows as her tossing against the lumpy motel beds they frequented, and the pounding of his heart as hers.

Barely a year as partners, and yet he would break, bend, and bleed just to hear her say his name one last time.

She’d only called him by his first name once, while they were on an off-the-books stakeout. He told her to call him Mulder, and that he even forced his parents to call him by their last name.

Every time he heard it, he was suddenly twelve years old, watching his sister scream out his name as he stood still and couldn’t do a thing to protect her like he promised he always would.

But when she said it, he was no longer trapped in his memories. He was just Fox.

If she said his name enough, maybe he wouldn’t hate it as much as he did.

His phone rang, sending his heart to flutter like a bird in a cage. He knew he should answer it, but his body was clinging to the couch harder than gravity was clinging to Earth.

“Mulder.” He answered flatly, stretching his body off the edge of his couch to hold the phone to his ear.

Electricity shot up his spine and down his legs, slinging up to his feet before Mrs. Scully could finish what she was saying. Life bubbled into him as he dropped the phone in its dock.

Mulder’s feet echoed in the sterile hospital hallway as he walked, his steps slow, almost mechanical, every inch of him unwilling to face what he knew was waiting for him behind that door. But he had no choice.

He didn’t want to see her like this again. He didn’t want to walk into that room where she was tethered to life by machines, her body so small and fragile, and the world outside buzzing with life while she remained suspended in an unnerving limbo. But she was there. And he had to be there too.

Her family had gathered around her. Her mother, her sister—the ones who had the right to be there first. But it was his presence that had been permitted, allowed to enter into that sacred space where the woman he had spent endless nights sleeping beside was now lying in a hospital bed.

He stepped through the door, and there she was.

Dana Scully. Her name felt so wrong, so small, in this sterile, whitewashed room. She looked almost ethereal in her hospital gown, pale, the skin of her face so sunken, and yet, there was something about her that still made his heart ache—still made him wonder how he ever got so lucky, or cursed, to be in her orbit. Her lips, usually full with that determined set, were now parted slightly as she lay motionless beneath the rhythmic beeping of the machines keeping her tethered to this world. The familiar weight of her presence was missing, but the quiet strength still lingered there, just out of reach.

“Hello Fox,” Mrs. Scully said, not moving as her hand laced with her daughter’s.

“Not Fox—Mulder.” Her cracked lips quirked as she quipped at her mother. She gently turned to face him, raising her eyes to his.

In the second she corrected her mother, hearing her say his name was enough to make his throat tighten. She looked over her shoulder at her family, and without a word, they silently left the room.

She was alive and awake in front of him, and as drained as he was, he wanted to scream thanks to her God. Her hand reached out to him, and for the first time in the matter of Dana Scully, he hesitated.

She was here because of him.

“Scully…” he trailed, fighting the urge to let her first name slip out. He took her hand in his, so cold comparatively, and brought her knuckles to his lips. She didn’t do anything to stop him, and he felt her stare drop to her necklace hanging on his neck.

“You kept it,” she whispered, bordering on a question, as she touched it to his chest. He felt his face flush as her delicate fingers played with the pendant, watching her twist and turn it.

“Yeah,” he croaked, looping his hands behind his head to unclasp it, “your mom—Mrs. Scully—told me to keep it ‘till I could give it back to you.” He gathered it in his hands, offering to put it on her, “Here, let me.”

It looked better fit on her, dainty and gilded against her throat, proclaiming her differing beliefs in the mysteries of the world and the myth of creation. It was as if her faith in God had taken him to the ends of his limits and then pushed him even further for the sake of her name.

He’d never called her by her first name. Dana. It had always felt too soft, too familiar, too fragile. She was always Scully. And it wasn’t just a title; it was a shield, a boundary they had created together, a wall that kept everything unspoken but understood. To call her Dana would have been to acknowledge a vulnerability neither of them could afford to expose.

For a long time, he thought about the meaning of her name. Dana. A pearl. A symbol of something precious, something rare, something born of pressure and pain, and yet, something more beautiful than anything else. She had always been that to him. Something he could never hold in his hands but could only try to protect from the world that wanted to break her.

But she had never needed to hear him say that. She had always known. She was a pearl, too beautiful for him to touch in the way that he longed to, too precious to be made vulnerable by his words, a testament to the definition of her name. And so he had kept it inside. The ‘Dana’ he had never called her. The pearl he had never acknowledged aloud.

[baronessblixen]

I wish you would write a fic where mulder falls asleep on skinner’s shoulder

Another ficlet! Gonna tag @today-in-fic this time 😁

“Is your son all right?” Skinner lifts his eyes to the nurse; one he hasn’t seen before. She’s young, her smile genuine, and her eyes curiously big. He’s tired. Not as tired as the man sitting next to him, whose head keeps ending up on his shoulder.

The first few times it happened, Mulder startled awake, his expression haunted, and apologized. Now, his head is on Skinner’s shoulder, his breath as even as it can be. If he weren’t so tired, or if Mulder were awake, maybe he’d correct the nurse. After the day they’ve all had, he has no strength left.

“His wife is- she’s not well.” It’s a white lie. Mulder and Scully may not be married on paper, but they are in every other way that counts. Once upon a time, Skinner felt the sting of jealousy seeing what they have. Now, he’s glad they have each other.

“I’m so sorry,” the nurse says. “Do you want me to go check on her? What’s her name?”

“Dana Scully.” Skinner keeps his voice soft so that he won’t wake Mulder. He should have known better; her name penetrates his sleepy mind and he blinks open his eyes.

“Is she- Dana Scully? Is she out of surgery?”

“I will check on your wife. I’ll be right back.” Her shoes squeak as she walks off. Mulder shakes his head, trying to wake up.

“My wife?” he asks Skinner, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly. Skinner is going to keep to himself that the nurse thought Mulder is his son. That’s for himself to deal with. He’s a mere 15 years older than Mulder. Right now, though, he sees it. He looks like a boy. One who’s scared to lose another person he loves, unable to stop it from happening. Again.

“Do you want a cup of coffee?” He changes the subject, hoping Mulder won’t press.

“No, I- I need to know how Scully is before I… before anything else.” The man needs a meal and sleep, preferably in a bed and not a hospital chair. Even if he threatened Mulder, Skinner knows he won’t leave here.

Before he can say another word, the nurse returns. His heart skips a beat until her face transforms into a big smile.

“Good news,” she says. “Your wife is out of surgery.”

“Is she-”

“She’s stable. She’s going to be just fine.” Mulder folds in on himself hearing the words and Skinner puts a hand on his back. “Is he-”

“He’s fine,” Skinner says, meaning it. “It has been a long day.”

“She’s going to make it,” Mulder mumbles, sounding almost delirious.

“She is,” Skinner assures him. “And I’m sure she wants to see you when she wakes up. How about you go home, take a shower and sleep?” He has to try. He knows that Scully would would want him to at least do that. Mulder just laughs humorlessly.

“You know I won’t.”

“The sit back down,” he says, aware that it sounds like an order. Mulder glares at him. “You’ve been using my shoulder as a pillow. Come on.”

“You sound as crazy as I do, sir.”

“Come on.” Another moment passes, but Mulder sits down. A minute passes and Skinner pretends to read the magazine he got hours ago. Maybe he’ll take that quiz again, the one that promises to tell you why you can’t ever keep a man. A sigh from the right, and then a soft weight on his shoulder. Mulder sleeps and Skinner keeps watch.

[enoughslices]

Do you subscribe to the notion that Scully had a punk phase? If so, when? If not, what style do you think she would like or may have taken up? I could ask the same for Mulder— do you have any preconceived notions of his stylistic choices that we may not have been shown in the show?

- Your Secret Santa!

Hi Secret Santa! I hope you are ready for a TED talk on the one million ways I can imagine Scully's fashion life 😂 First of all, I'm not generally a person with any one strong head canon about most things, so I enjoy it a lot of different ways in fics and art! I can promise you that if you go for whatever style choice feels right to you, I'm going to absolutely love it!! With that being said, I can definitely imagine Scully having had a punk phase, maybe in high school but especially in college. And I think the punk Scully fics and art are always super cute and fun! I could see her being someone whose "teenage rebellion" comes a little late, because canonically she's such a high achiever but also doesn't shy away from making choices her family doesn't understand or support. Like maybe as a teen military brat she just kind of didn't rock the boat but once she's off at college she does all of the style/identity experimentation she didn't do at home yet. In canon she's generally pretty straight-laced in terms of her style, but we do see some examples of her in earlier seasons in like... more fun, put-together casual or casual dressy clothes. So I could also imagine her being one of those people who seem kind of normcore at first glance but as you get to know them, you discover that they're super weird (compliment), actually, it's just lightly disguised by a messy bun, a stanley, and a girlypop fleece (recent era lol, so translated to 80s or 90s just like slightly preppy conservative-casual basics? Not cutting edge or super-duper trendy but also well within the general swath of what was common/popular at the time). I feel like the moire taffeta prom dress is an example of this lolll but 1) that was high school and 2) I'm always in full support of ignoring canon and just vibing however we want to! I do think that the workplace (if it's Quantico or Hoover) isn't really a place she shows her freak (in terms of fashion at least lol) and honestly I think the combo of early 90s + Scully intentionally trying to seem older and more professional at her job can justify a lot of her early season work fashions. Re: Mulder, my hottest take/unpopular opinion is that Mulder's canonical ties aren't actually terrible lmao! For the most part, they're pretty good quality ties that a slightly fashionable guy in the early 90s would have grabbed at a Nordstrom (department store) or whatever and felt pleased with his choices 😂 I see him in general as someone who is a little vain about his appearance; he does take some care with his clothes (I accept the Armani suits they put DD in as fact ahaha), and I do think he kind of wants to be/feel a little bit cool (poor boy lol). Whatever he's wearing when he's younger, I think it probably betrays some striving. Like, he's Trying™️. I also get a lot of joy out of imagining him as an absurd graphic tee guy (esp in AUs but sometimes in other contexts too, goofy cryptid t-shirts, et cetera). He definitely owns some novelty boxers lol. I also think he's the kind of guy who just seems a little cleancut no matter how edgy he tries to be. I headcanon him coming from money based on canon clues (the Martha's Vineyard and multiple properties of it all), but I could imagine him feeling self-conscious about that/trying to distance himself from it a bit when he's younger. Depends on the era/setting I guess, but it's fun to imagine younger him with :spins wheel: floppy hair and a ratty sweater but still just emanating Sad New England Wealthy Puppy Dog Boy against all of his better efforts 😂😂😂 Oh my gosh, I'm sorry for writing you an entire essay! You're the best, Secret Santa! Please do whatever you feel inspired to do and know that I will love it all!! <3 <3 <3

[actual-changeling]

some early fluffy msr featuring once again a very tired scully and a worried mulder. if i end up writing more vignettes like these i might start posting them on ao3. this is set a few days after the first pfaster incident.

—

Mulder should really wake her up.

Not only is sleeping on the desk incredibly uncomfortable—speaking from a lot of experience—but he also knows that her first reaction to realising she fell asleep at work will be shame. She is slumped over in her usual chair, angled towards him and with her back to the door; every now and then she makes a little noise and buries her face deeper into the cradle of her arms.

Her blazer has ridden up her back and her blouse with it, revealing not soft skin but a deep-blue, slowly healing bruise. There are several more littering her entire body, and Mulder has caught her wincing or hissing in pain more times than he can count, swallowing the needle of guilt that comes with it. The memory of her sobbing into his chest is at the forefront of his mind, impermeable and achingly bright, and he regrets not shooting Pfaster dead right where he stood.

Scully had insisted on going back to work and shrugged off any and all attempts at getting her medical attention, eventually telling him to 'leave her alone or so help me god'. Not wanting to push, he had, and yet, seeing the shadows under her eyes match her bruises more and more, he wishes he had said something—anything—if just to make sure she is not hurting more than can be avoided.

It is not difficult to guess what exactly is keeping her up at night, and this is not the first or the last time a harrowing experience haunted them all the way home. Nightmares are as much part of the job as paperwork, and he would carry it all for her if he could.

Mulder watches her lips part for a sigh, a week's worth of fatigue finally catching up with her, and his indecision disappears entirely. He quietly pushes back his chair and tiptoes around their office, first taking the phones off the hook, then switching off their cellphones too. If anyone wanted something from them (and 'anyone' was almost exclusively Skinner), they were going to have to wait.

After locking the door, he turns off the ceiling light, picks up his coat, and gently drapes it over her shoulders; the heavy fabric wraps around her like a cocoon, making her appear even smaller than she already was. Shifting for a few seconds, Scully seems to adjust to the new weight and influx of warmth, but she quickly settles again with sleep softening her features. Hesitantly, Mulder reaches out and tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear, disproportionately endeared by the content noise he gets in response.

In the late afternoon twilight, her red hair is littered with specks of gold, and he cannot resist the urge to run a palm over the back of her head to smooth it down further. Leaning in, he presses a tender kiss on her temple, murmuring "_sweet dreams"_ before he can second-guess himself.

Mulder knows he cannot change what happened or the lingering trauma she is inevitably struggling with, but he can allow her to get the rest she needs, if just for a little while, his gaze never straying far from her. No uninvited visitors disturb her peace, and he busies himself with expense reports and filing while she naps. 

The sun sets, the moon rises, and a handful of hours later, he catches her lashes fluttering and fingers twitching as she finds her way back to consciousness.

Contrary to his initial assumption, Scully doesn't seem to feel embarrassed or uncomfortable, but rather leans back and pulls his coat tighter around herself. Her eyes are clear, and he can spot the beginning of a smile tugging on her lips. He breathes against the sudden wave of anxiety washing over him, worried that he somehow overstepped.

"Better?"

Scully nods, letting out a puff of air and looking away as a blush rises to her cheeks.

"Thank you," she whispers, extending her arm to take his hand, which was starting to make a mess of the files without him noticing. Mulder squeezes it in return, his thumb unconsciously drawing circles along her knuckles. Unsure of how to deal with the emotions surging between them, he bites back the joke on his tongue and settles for honesty instead.

"If you ever—you can call. Anytime. Odds are I'm probably up anyway, and if-" he stumbles, mentally preparing himself to see her walls slot back into place, but she is meeting his gaze with steady, familiar affection. 

"If that's something I can do, please. Let me."

Scully squeezes his hand one more time before pulling back, carefully pushing herself upright. His coat is swallowing her, merging her with the creeping shadows on the wall, and her hair is a flame, drawing him in like a moth to the light. His light. 

"Dinner? Your choice."

Mulder smiles, recognising the offer for what it is: gratitude and affirmation wrapped in one.

"Let's go."

(When Scully calls him later in the early morning hours, they end up falling asleep together, and seeing her lively and infinitely less tired at work is worth the phone bills he continues to amass over the next few weeks.)

[randomfoggytiger]

Tiger! Curious, what are your thoughts on Scully’s “oh brother” after Mulder’s “I love you” in triangle?

I took it as her being frustrated over Mulder almost getting himself killed and it was the wrong time for a proclamation of that kind.

I’ve also heard that he was on pain meds and Scully knew he wasn’t in his normal state of mind, but I don’t buy that.

Thanks!

I think I sit on the drugged side of the fence, personally; though I might change my mind in future if given more thought.

Scully was frustrated-- mad even-- at being ditched; but Triangle focuses solely on her determination to save her partner. TLG thought Mulder was in trouble, and she took it as a matter of course that he would be (hence her FBI shenanigans.) We are led to assume she found Mulder face-down in the water; but even so, the end of the episode concludes with her talking gently and calmly at his bedside while fondly bossing him around.

In Mulder's past hospitalization scenarios, Scully was prone to take a careful, soothing approach (even when she assumed he was in the wrong.) This episode is relatively the same... except: she addresses Mulder as if he were high, stating "Mulder settle down, that's an order"/"Yeah, yeah I did"/"I want you to close your eyes and repeat, 'There's no place like home'" (all loosely quoted.) She says these statements while listening to her partner ramble on about the Queen Anne or Thor's Hammer or her saving the world. Although she's not the only one who thinks he's high-- Skinner and TLG are convinced, as well-- she's the self-appointed, rational one there to talk him down. (Skinner prefers sarcastic Toto quips instead.)

As realistic as it would have been for her to be frustrated with his foolhardiness or tangled up in lingering Diana Fowley emotions... Triangle doesn't conclude with either of those. (Diana Fowley, for example, is entirely forgotten until One Son by both agents; and is forgotten again after a quick "look, they made up" moment at the end of Agua Mala. Yes, that is a writing problem; no, I am not complaining.) It's up to the audience to inject more into this scene than the writers or actors or directors intended-- complicated emotions weren't a part of Triangle's vision. (But are we surprised, with The X-Files?)

In Triangle's conclusion particularly, Scully isn't angry or closed off, nor does she shut Mulder down like she would if she were frustrated (or took his words or the intent behind them seriously.) Instead, she thinks he's just high; and sighs (at the wall-- a Jim in The Office moment, before it's time) the infamous "Oh, brother" before turning heel and walking away. In her mind, Mulder's too high to take these actions personally, or even to remember them. She's so convinced that she walks away exasperated and just a smidge humored (e.g. her exaggerated posture, shoulders, and expression.) It's so... Mulder to acknowledge and proclaim their love openly at the strangest time while basking in, as Scully sees it, the high of her "saving" the world (i.e. saving him.) It's endearing, perhaps, but it's also so ridiculous (to her) that she automatically doesn't give his confession the time of day.

Why didn't Scully continue to dissuade or reason with Mulder, as she was doing up to this point? Scully wrestles through the last scene trying to get Mulder back to sleep: she sweeps in, tries to calm him down; then spends the next few minutes fruitlessly attempting to untangle his logic so she can get him to unwind and drift back to dreamworld. But, after achieving practically nothing, she ends the interlude with an injunction to close his eyes and go to sleep. Mulder obeying then popping back up is so Mulder that she comes back and tucks in her chin, expecting another line of unimportant, sleep-stalling rambles. So when he says, "I love you", she takes it as the height of drug-induced delirium and walks off before he can embarrass himself further. Almost-- but not quite-- the attitude of a parent being called back by their child on a sugar high and hearing such a string of jittery nonsense that they regret their decision, and strictly reinforce bedtime rules.

The humor, for the audience, is that Scully doesn't doubt that Mulder loves her-- that's not a question; that understanding, in fact, fuels her early, mid, and latter Season 6 decisions-- but that she can't believe he's devolved into such lovey dovey delirium that Mulder's willing to (potentially) embarrass himself when he remembers later. He just confessed his feelings that summer (after five plus years), and didn't drop the L word then, even in the midst of heightened anxiety and mutual misery. Here, to her knowledge, he is in no state to own up to or confess the depth of his feelings, either. And yet, it's such a Mulder thing to do-- to do it anyway, and like this-- that she's left with a bone-deep sigh ("Oh, brother") and a determination not to feed into this delusion.

Still. She keeps this confession in mind as the season progresses (or, more truthfully, the writers do), testing the waters and pushing the boundaries to see how deep Mulder's reticence or repression goes (classic examples include Dreamland, Arcadia, Alpha, Milagro, The Unnatural, etc. etc.) It's why Season 6 is so fun to me... but that's another topic for another time.

Those are my thoughts, anyway! Would be interested to hear yours¬.