#maybe i'm bitter because i love scully

[ragnarlothcat]

I'm a few seasons into the X-Files and I need to know: do Mulder and Scully ever get any less stupid??? Just once I want Mulder to react to a dangerous serial killer who specifically targets women and who has recently escaped FBI custody (after saying weirdly intense stuff to Scully) with something other than "this obsessive murderer is clearly planning his next attack on some random woman! You 50 armed officers come with me to his centrally located apartment that he already knows we've searched. Scully, you put on your most impractical shoes and go alone to the abandoned salt mine outside of town. There's no cell service so honestly don't even bother bringing your phone. You can bring your gun if you insist but only if you coat the handle in butter first."

[onlineproblems]

@jjohnnyutah okay I'm out of the shower. here goes, the xfiles word vomit

i wish i remembered more of season 1 and i guess 2 but i started watching like a year ago and i wasnt sure how i felt about it at the time and sort of half paid attention to the majority of the episodes. i plan to rewatch anyway but most of my excitement for the show peaked around mid-late season 2, when i felt like i knew what was going on (that didnt last) and i understood the dynamics between all the characters.

nobody could ever guess /s but i ADORE scully. i love and identify with her repressed catholic/survivors guilt and inability to express herself and the way she puts too much of herself into a quest that wasn't even hers to start with. and then finally opens up and leaves her shell and gets to be silly later in the show with a wry, dry humor that complements mulder's goofiness.

i think the baby arc is one of the dumbest things i've ever seen (not that i've seen all of it yet, but jesus it's so dumb). maybe it's because i'm a bitter childless hag but i dont relate to her intense desire to have children and i feel like when she got pregnant the writers absolutely mauled her personality to death. ffs they already put her through every other torture they could devise, why not a lobotomy? everyone knows motherhood makes you weak-willed and stupid. i mean im exaggerating but it's because the anger is fresh lol.

I'm so so scared to watch the revival because i don't want it to warp my nostalgic understanding of the characters. i love them and want them to live forever in a little bubble in Vancouver, fighting the moth men (yes that ep was so good) and getting up to shenanigans while CSM and Krycek does his incompetent bullshit off to the side.

I've seen several people talk about Jewish Mulder and i think the idea makes a lot of sense, and didn't they even reference it a time or two in the show? like the ep with the golem? i got mad when they gave him a Christian burial lol.

i like mulder's appreciation for the beauty in the weird and how he doesn't give a shit for what anyone thinks of him except Scully. i like that he's so wrapped up in the wonders out there but is also staunchly atheistic.

i didn't want Samantha's disappearance to be solved because it seemed like such a trite ending to mulder's trauma and the ultimate mystery in his life. i guess it was a good enough solution, but her abduction was what fueled him and gave him meaning and to wrap it up with a bow felt...idk, dismissive almost. i wanted closure for him but not necessarily answers. if your life's meaning is to search for answers, and suddenly you can have all the answers to the universe, where do you find meaning then? I may not be making sense lmao

and i think that's when i enjoy the x files most, when it's not trying to package things all neatly. maybe it's trying to ask a question, or maybe it's just trying to have fun, or both, but it's not trying too hard. the mythology is too much for me and frankly detracts from my enjoyment of... it. they wanted something epic and mysterious and then couldn't make any sense out of their own cryptic bullshit.

self-contained episodes like clyde bruckman, asking a question about determinism and big stuff like that without getting preachy or condescending, are excellent.

there's a hundred other things i could say but... that's enough for now lol.

[the-spooky-alien]

Day 12 of Fictober !

Fandom : X-Files with the prompt "You're making my head hurt."

Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober2022

-

''You're making my head hurt.''

From her position, near his kitchen's door, Scully rolls her eyes, throwing him her infamous 'you're being very stupid' glare. He can't help but grin back at her, studying with awe as her irritation settles into an annoyed fondness.

He can't believe she's even here, taking care of him when he's coughing his lungs out, missing a day of work even though she's never missed a single day of work before (except for various injuries she may have retained over the years), for him. He didn't even ask her to come. She came because he wasn't in the office and she was worried.

It makes him worriedly giddy. Or maybe its the dizziness of his illness playing with the beats of his heart.

''Your head hurt because you're sick, Mulder,'' she says, coming back to his crouch with a steaming bowl of soup (her favourite when she was sick, she told him earlier) and a glass of something unidentified that makes him recoil in disgust. He hopes she isn't thinking of giving it to him.

''Pretty sure it's you.''

Scully scoffs, but there's slight curl to her lips. ''Just shut up and drink this.''

She hands him the glass. He takes it only because she's watching him with hawk's eyes. He can almost hear her 'I'm a medical doctor'.

''What is it ?''

The substance swirls threateningly in the glass, its smell bitter and agressive even with his stuffed up nose. Putting the bowl on his coffee table, Scully crouches beside his couch, pressing her hand to his forehead. He jerks back against the contact, her hand furiously cold on his hot skin.

''Not poison, I promise,'' Scully smirks, but her tone sounds a bit too airy for him to believe her. She lets her hand fall back and turns to his discarded blanket, draping it back on him. She shows him tenderness in a way nobody has before. His throat tighten at the thought, so he turns his attention back to the glass.

He eyes it. The glass eyes him back. ''I wouldn't put it past you to try to kill me.''

''Honestly, Mulder,'' she sighs, irritation beginning to slip back into her tone, ''why would I even do that ?''

He can't help but stare at her. There a thousand reasons she would want to kill him and dump his body somewhere nobody would find it.

''Maybe you're getting tired of my genius theories-''

Scully snorts. ''Of course-''

''-Or my tendency to irritate you when I chew my sunflower seed-''

''-You don't-''

''-Or because of how often I ditch you even though it would be better to have you with me,'' he finishes with his hand curled around the glass, absently hoping it would shatter in his hand so that every shards in his skin would distract him from the knowledge of being less than enough for the one woman he loves most in this world.

''Mulder...''

His name on her lips ends in a strangled sigh. Her blue eyes, wide and piercing, stare at him, horrified. Her brows scrunch up the way they do when she's feeling sad. It brings acid on his tongue, to know he's wiped out her smile to bring this on her face.

''Might also be because of the pencils on the ceiling,'' he mumbles, forcing a smile on his face. It feels like a grimace more than anything.

For a moment, neither says anything. Unable to bear her intense eyes, he closes his eyes and drinks what's in the glass in one long sip. It's slippery on his tongue, bitter and cold.

(It tastes like guilt.)

''I don't...'' Scully begins before sighing. Her head falls forwards, face hidden behind long strands of hair. She looks weary. ''I hardly want to kill you, Mulder. Not even when I'm mad at you. Not when you chew your seed, not when you ditch me.'' Her hands find his, without even looking. A part of him wonders if she'll always find him, no matter what. ''You're... I care about you and your well-being.'' And she brings her eyes back to him and the word in her eyes isn't care. It's fire and tenderness all in one, it's kind and soft and destructive and it burns at the center of their chest. ''This, here, right now, is me taking care of you because I want to. Because I think you deserved to be cared for, even if you're irritating sometimes and reckless and selfishly selfless.''

His throat feels so tight, he can barely chokes, ''I don't-''

''If you're gonna say you don't deserve it, you can stop right now,'' she snaps fiercely, one of her hand moving to cup his cheek. Her touch is soft and gentle. He melts under it. ''Because you do. So very much.''

She moves to embrace him then, wrapping her arms around him and combing back his hair even though he's sick and tired and a jerk most of the times. Her words are warm on his ear, warmer on his heart.

''Let me take care of you, Mulder.''

He does, falls into her open arms with relief at being caught and held.

[incarnateirony]

Isn't it cute how we keep finding RL parallels to show that what they're doing with Destiel is a Romance with a capital R, and now the show itself used Destiel as a parallel to show that Saileen is a romance (even tho everyone already knew That)? And they'll come back to eachother eventually? Wow. I hope I got my point across, but this thought hasn't left me since the "What's real?" "This is." convo between Sam and Eileen. Two sister ships are driving this season, and I'm all here for it.

Yeah.

The fandom result is less fun, with people calling text subtext because they simply don’t understand the text’s merit (eg, Last Call) that was settled long before anybody in this fandom considered themselves a genius to try to argue circles around it. Like Y2K called it wants to update fandom on some LGBT issues already settled. Oz was… what? 1997-2003? (Which is when Bobo ended up writing his LGBT rep sociopolitical commentary?)

The show has me ecstatic. The fandom has me reeling in horror in how willfully LGBT people have coded themselves into a performative-to-het-demands-culture that they’ll talk down content and structure used for romantic het pairings even when it’s front and center. 

This isn’t the world of subtextual secret handshakes anymore, guys. I don’t know if meta fandom is reeling on what an actual Will They/Won’t They looks like as opposed to, yes, S7 wallpapers or fish or whatever rando shit got chased as a stream; or even compared to lowkey structural subtext like Colette which hid so many layers beneath the surface that it needed to be actively negotiated and tracked. 

Not front, textual assertions that Dean does in fact have Oz-esque group encounters beyond even Deanmon, that he alone had to bury Cas and burying Eileen was the same for Sam, only to turn around and have them mirror shit and truncate their emotional adventure with a kiss and fandom’s out here footstomping and invalidating the text level bullshit because it’s not said how they want, when they want. 

Like guys that shit is text. People not understanding the text does not make it non-text. Whether or not you know your LGBT history and intersectional issues (or have modernly soaked dialogue from alt right platforms that XYZ isn’t gay if you yell no homo, since there’s even parts of the world where men identify “straight” despite routinely pursuing sex with men and abandoning women that FOR SOME REASON PEOPLE HERE CATER TO THE DIALOGUES OF) – whether you know any of this, whether you UNDERSTAND this – the information still exists. 

People still try to explain that the earth is flat instead of round because they don’t understand science, or evolution for the same reason. That doesn’t mean there’s actually reasonable permissive argument here. In fact, it’s embarrassing as fuck to watch anyone hold one of these arguments. People not understanding material does not invalidate what the material actually means.

And seriously like– “WE WANT–” … what, a love confession or a kiss, I guess. All the other goalposts that were set up were blown by. The former love yous and similar phrasings (I guess we’re herding love affirmations into ONLY three specific words and otherwise it’s not valid, because… Magic Meta Gay People Rules) weren’t enough! And! AND! Even the ones that WERE those three words, people could arGUE!!! It might not be gaY!!!

So let’s be honest bitters & meta fandom & alternate shippers having sixteen jealousy fits: You don’t even want an I Love You, because it would have to be “I love you, and like, only you, romantically, like in love with you, in the gay way, let’s go have gay sex” for this to pacify this utterly homophobic ball of bullshit they have going on.

So we’ll be honest. You want a kiss.

That’s great. I do too.

At the same time, I can gesture you to a literally endless amount of history where literature and TV did not require a kiss for the romantic content to be valid and even celebrated.

That’s not what magically makes all the text text. The text is the text.

The subtext is elements like Reno, and Mary/John, or Amara/Chuck, and even those are loud as FUCK still. Ironically, *the text is quieter than the subtext right now*

If you take the text: Dean has repeat group encounters that are decades-ago LGBT qualified as queer; Dean loses all hope without Cas, once he has to bury Cas, and Eileen does the same for Sam.

The subtext of this: Dean actually forgot an entire woman in his tryst, which means she wasn’t a focus, which makes this gayer than the default gay text; Dean yet again followed viking widower tradition with Cas as a spouse and buried him himself.

This is literally “Cas is Dean’s Collette” but 1. fully textual instead of 3 levels under and 2. much more personal with a full character we witnessed with Eileen rather than flashbacks of Colette for a few seconds. The text here has subtext. It is text. Whether people understand the text, like the LGBT issues around 15.07 or not is an onus on them, but does not invalidate the content. People not understanding Gays doesn’t delete Gays, that isn’t how that works.

Because the hilarity of the line people trying to keep their blogs valid at– that they’re running? All text is subtext unless all text is explained unto a point that it can’t be argued, but that of course leaves the explanation subtext until it, too, is explained beyond a shadow of a doubt to children, and then so on, ad infinity, in a quantum loop of calling everything under god’s written heaven subtext.

I had a conversation with a meta writer who won’t be named that went full bore in a loop. They called it subtext. I pointed out where it was flat surface text. Yes, they said, that IS text, but people can still argue, so that makes it subtext. Uh, no, I pointed out, that isn’t how this works or what those words mean, someone’s understanding of the meaning of text does not invalidate the actual meaning the words have. Arguing with a phantom menace of a GA that’s all catching on right now to contend with tinhatters and a few other oddballs out there that are hilariously small and not in the GA eye isn’t worth changing the entire dictionary. Because The Dictionary Is A Good Book. If someone doesn’t understand all the words in the dictionary and what they mean that, also, does not invalidate the dictionary if it doesn’t have an infinite set of asterisks defining every definition. Anyway, said meta person completely went postal about it after that because after trying to loop the same argument three times and realizing They Will Always End Up Here, off they went when I said that arguing with idiots online wasn’t worth demolishing the dictionary, media study, or queer content.

AV medium seems to be confusing the fuck out of people that fancy themselves or are even degreed lit savants.

But hey, maybe there’s a ruse being played. Maybe Bobo already got that lucky corporate dice roll and is playing into his thematic structure. Maybe he will manage to break through with a kiss. Maybe, maybe, maybe. 

Frankly more than to argue with idiots, I kind of want it to exemplify the gross homophobia going on in this fandom. And I don’t mean antis. I mean every single person, right here and right now, redefining things to maintain their hysteria and anger or even just their general relevance/podium that evaporates if they acknowledge that it is what it is; that every bit of queer text AND subtext they talked down and deleted and tried to wedge into “platonic” boxes due to their own lack of LGBT cultural understanding was real, and valid, and while antis screamed and shouted raging at the text as provided, they were the ones there, being enemies this year, deleting queer content until their arbitrary goalpost, fulfilling as it may be, and as much as I personally want it too, was met. But if that happens, IF that happens, it WILL be by Bobo’s hand or Dabb’s with Bobo’s guidance, and I can PROMISE you he will make it such a sociopolitical commentary on the heteronormative bullshit going on (like his DreamHunter commentary that BLEW BY everyone) that I expect several people to delete their damn accounts in mortal embarrassment.

This season is gorgeous everyone. Enjoy it.

For the record, if that million to one shot is on the table, the episode everyone should watch for results, beyond the finale, is 15.18. I’m not gonna get into all the reasons here beyond Putrefaction/Blackening > Whitening > Yellowing > Reddening = Gold and if anybody wants to know what the fuck I mean by that, send me an ask. (I’m working on a Putrefaction video to plug into my series to help with that. And beyond that pacing, structure, rhythm, and Bobo. But that also does not mean anyone should seriously place their emotional chips on it, just to stop getting cranked up and demanding THIS NEXT EPISODE OR PERISH.)

Because if you think there’s ever a point homophobes are gonna stop arguing shit down, you’re in for a bad time. Straight pairs like Mulder/Scully that kissed got no romos mental gymnasticsing around it. If you expect differently with DeanCas you’re IN FOR A RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIDE

But I don’t want to hear one more goddamn peep about representation from that wing of meta fandom. The representation is there, front and center, to relate to for the intended demographic, it just wasn’t what other demographics wanted. But it’s written by a middle aged LGBT man for middle aged LGBT men and if you aren’t in that bracket, and don’t like the results, you don’t get to go and try to destroy that representative material. Hell if you ARE in that demographic you don’t get to one-card steam roll over other LGBT men too, the way it works from there is you find other people in that demographic and discuss the content’s pros and cons. If it ends at “not the ship I like” instead of genuine problems with the content, you also don’t get to destroy that for other people in the demographic. So whether it’s like, desperate clout/platform/relevance clinging, or just complete lack of understanding of LGBT media history and the represented demographic, that shit needs to stop. Pick a side. 

You can’t genuinely fight for representation while going and kicking down rep sandcastles because they weren’t shaped how you want. That isn’t how it works. It works by owning the content, and requesting better or more. Requesting more explicit content does not require destroying the content you don’t consider “enough”, in front of you.

Overt queer subtext AND text remain an overt body within the text even if it does not reach a given explicit landmark that you personally have decided on and is 0% dependent on anyone’s understanding of the fucking content.

[baronessblixen]

Hi !!! I'm the anon from the other day (I told you I loved your writing and I also asked you your top 10 eps list) Anyway, just passing by to let you know I loved your mother's day Scully-Mulder-William fic, it was very sweet. I still have to read your flight fic but it looks really promising :) tbh..I am a little bit bummed by the general feeling of bitterness within the fandom this days and it makes me sad. Do you have any advice?? sometimes when bts scenes drama or fandom related thing happen

Hi! Thank you :) I’m going to use the beginning of your longer message to answer. I hope that’s all right. 

As for the general feeling... yeah. I feel you. I don’t really have any advice. Except maybe stay away from what makes you sad. You don’t have to engage with negativity if you don’t want to. If there are negative feelings on your dash, just scroll past. If it gets too much, unfollow. You can always come back if it’s a blog you like. 

Much like you I returned to the fandom when the revival (season 10, basically) was announced. It was my happy place, too. I can’t tell you which other fandom I’d just left; I feel like it’s OUAT with a side dish of Frasier. A tiny, quiet fandom no one has any reason to fight in lol Anyway. After OUAT, the x-files really felt like home. Because I came back when there was no fighting. While OUAT fans were tearing each other apart. 

I wasn’t very active in the fandom during the original run. Mainly because my English wasn’t good enough so engage in any discussion. I did, however, get a glimpse of it during the IWTB days. Somehow, no matter what the quality (or lack thereof) of the content, it always comes back to David vs. Gillian. In the fans eyes, anyway. To me personally, not so much. They both do things I like, they both do things I don’t like. Just like any other human being. I personally don’t understand why this tweet is so blown out of proportion. I thought it was pretty cool, but really all she did was make sure it was understood that the show was not cancelled because of her decision not to return. That’s all. Could she have done it differently? Probably. But that’s just her. You can like it or don’t. 

People are sad. I think it stems from the fact that we all had such high expectations. We got our show back after all this time and what happens? All of this. We’re now forever stuck with a series finale that just sucks. All because CC thought... well, whatever he thought. I’m not going to speak for him. The thing is, what all of us should always remember, we don’t know anything. We don’t know what happened on set, who talked to whom and about what. We know nothing. So why tear each other up over it? 

I love social media, I really do. I’ve met wonderful people here and other places, but it also helps perpetuate (fandom) drama. Someone says something, someone else misinterprets, writes an answer on what they understood and then it spreads like wildfire with everyone adding their own little flame. This is not a conversation; it’s people talking and most of the time it’s at each other. Even me answering you is not really a conversation.  

So yes, everything was wonderful for a while. And you know what? It will be again. This, too, will pass. It always does. We’ve made it through the 90s. We can make it through this. Until then there’s fanfic, videos, headcanons, gif sets. There are so many good things we *do* have. We shouldn’t forget that. 

[mulder-krycek]

I'm not necessarily a slash fan but I can try. How about Mulder coming out to Scully introducing his boyfriend? And less G-rated: Mulder gets a sex toy and can't wait to try it out with boyfriend. I suppose Krycek?

I did the first prompt but am going to save the second one for a different post.  the two stories have such different feels, I didn’t want to put them together.  can we all give cred to poor @baronessblixen who struggled against her shipperness to send me these prompts? lmfao.

I sort of twisted the first prompt into something more… well, sad.  What can I say?  Breaking Mulder’s heart is my kink.  Enjoy. not beta’d ‘cause i’m an arse.  set sometime in early season 3.

Dana Scully sits in her car outside Hegal Place and she thinks.  It’s almost two in the morning and she’s been sitting there for maybe fifteen minutes.  She just can’t bring herself to turn on the ignition and drive yet.  She’s asking herself something.  She’s asking herself and she’s hoping she’ll find the answer… but she doesn’t think she will.

She wants to know how much.  She wants to know how much more Fox Mulder has to suffer.  How much more pain he has to sit through, even in the overwhelming eclipse of love… he feels nothing but sorrow.  And she hurts for him, too.

Four stories up, he’s sleeping, exhausted from the emotional upheaval he’s experienced tonight.  The sleeve of her shirt is still damp, where his tears saturated the fabric at the wrist, when he laid his head down on her lap.  He had clung to her, aching for some sort of absolution and yet resistant to anything but complete penitence.  He gave the Nuns of her youth a run for their money.

“What is wrong with me?” he cried softly into her lap, droplets rolling from his eyes, “What have I done?  What have I done?  Forgive me, Scully, please, forgive me.”

She forgave him, of course she forgave him.  Her fingers stroked the thick, dark hair.  It had happened so suddenly and yet it seemed undefinably inevitable.  The joy on his face when he’d seen her, when she’d woken up from her place far way, had been nothing if not pure compassion.  He’d treated her like glass afterwards.  Her abduction a heavy mark on his card, a trauma he hoped to carry all on his own.  Along with everything else.

Everything broke.  Eventually.  Even Mulder.

Dana had grown up Catholic.  A traditional Catholic and she’d read the Bible many times, listened to the Priest when he gave his sermons.  It was the word of God, who was she to deny it?  To correct it?  Once, her mother had taken her aside, in a private moment, and spoke about such a subject.  She said it was important to remember the tenants of Christ, to respect the church but to remember that it was run by men.  God was infallible, men were not.  Remember that, she’d urged her, remember that.

She remembered more, her brothers and her father talking about it at the dinner table.  It was a good thing, they agreed, it was good that they were kept from the military.  They’d agreed: they couldn’t be trusted.  Certainly not in the line of duty, not as a man at your back, not when they needed to be counted on.  They just simply could not be trusted.

Fox Mulder was the only man she trusted.  Homosexual or not, she’d have no one else at her back.  She’d told him that, she’d held him and she’d told him that; she hoped he’d believed her.

“There’s no shame in love, Mulder,” she’d whispered, cradling him in her arms, nose buried in his hair.  Her partner, her friend, her child.

“They were right, they were right,” he’d sobbed, clinging to her. Desperate, battered by circumstance.  His parents.  Wealthy and poised, they turned their noses up at anything that seemed problematic.  

“He looked at me,” Mulder recalled, wiping  his nose, holding it together as best he could, “He looked at me and he just said… he just said, we weren’t that kind of family.  My mother agreed.”

Dana Scully had never felt so angry, she’d never felt the bitter, un-quenchable disgust until she’d heard Mulder’s recollection.  She could see him in her mind’s eye:  Mulder, lanky and awkward, at sixteen, just trying to understand himself, trying to understand the wave of aggressive feeling that swept over all teenagers.  Hoping, praying, he could look to his parents for help.  Only to have them turn in disappointment.  Bastards.  The both of them.

It wasn’t just men who broke Mulder’s heart.  It was man.  One man.  

“Forgive me,” he’d asked her, begged her, “Forgive me, Scully.  I didn’t know.  He… he tricked me.  I thought… oh, Jesus,” he buried his face in his hands, squeezing his eyes against the tears, trying to block out the pain.

“I’m so ashamed, Scully, I’m so sorry.  I thought he loved me.  I thought… I thought he loved him and I, I, I…”

Alex Krycek.

The year they’d been partners, the year of illusion and trickery.

“It wasn’t sex, Scully, we… the sex it was secondary.  He just… he made it all seem so natural.  I didn’t have the X-Files but I had you.  And, and,” he seemed to hesitate to add but honest longed to be free, “I had him.  And now he’s laughing at me, Scully.  They all are.  I fell for it.  I fell for it and they’re laughing.”

One droplet, then another and they began to fall.  She stroked his hands.  Scully didn’t know what hurt him more; the hollow love or the admission he’d felt anything at all.  The shame he felt facing her.

“And he hurt you,” Mulder choked out, an angry grit through all the sorrow, “And he hurt you and I’ll never forgive him.  I hate him, Scully, I hate him.”

“And he hurt you,” she came closer, to pull him to her.  She felt him crumble in her arms, sinking into her embrace, “And I’ll never forgive him for that, Mulder.  You don’t need to ask for my forgiveness,  there’s nothing to forgive.”

Scully pressed a soft kiss to his temple and his grip on her tightened.  She held him on his couch, resting him against the cushions.  Soothing the pain, or trying.  She didn’t know if she could ever really sooth him, not like she wanted–there would always be pain in Mulder but she just wanted to ease it.

“I love you,” he whispered against her, eyes closed.  He did, she knew he did.

It wasn’t just sex that made love, it was so much more.  And she’d never deny it existed between them.

“And I love you,” Scully replied, stroking his hair.  She stayed there until he fell asleep and then she tucked him in, wrapping him in his second-hand indian blanket.  

Fox Mulder.  Her partner, her friend and her child.  The mother he’d needed, the friend he’d deserved, she kissed at the hairline and left him, locking up after her as she left.

Scully finally started her car, letting out a breath.  Mulder had told her of Krycek’s involvement in her abduction, and she’d soured on him understandably but she knew there forces bigger than him, men who held more blame then Krycek could ever hope to accumulate.

Now?  Now she hated him with her whole body.  When she saw Alex Krycek again, if she saw him again, she’d kill him.  For Mulder, she’d kill him.  Because that was love.

[the-spooky-alien]

heyyy, im back with a little piece of cancer angst (is it even surprising at this point ?) I hope you will like it :)

Mulder doesn't even know they're arguing until Scully's snapping at him to leave her alone for once before storming out and leaving the room – her motel room. He can only stand there, trying to remember why they began shouting at each other when they should have focused on the case at hand.

Something about her having another nosebleed. Maybe he hasn't hidden his concern in time. Maybe he shouldn't have touched her shoulder. But he's beginning to get tired of having to hide how nerve-wracking it is to witness her shake and cough, one bloodied hand pressed to her face.

He wishes she would let him hold her through the pain.

(For her sake or his, he can't tell.)

Shaking his head, he sits on her bed, letting himself be immersed in her soft scent. He's not sure what it is, but it's soothing. Reminds him of the whisper of the wind in his hair in the spring. Of late nights, spread on his motel bed with her, trying to solve cases while bantering, as they always do.

Did.

He shouldn't let himself wander down this path. Because, of course, his eyes begin to burn, and his throat closes, and he feels like he can't breathe, but now is not the right time, he's still in her bedroom and Scully could come back any time, and oh God, there won't be any more nights like that, the only thing that will remain is him and the vague scent of wind and late nights to keep him company when her absence will be too much, and it hurts so fucking much-

His lungs burn, screaming for some air, so he tries to inhale. It doesn't work, breaths too shallow, and the ache in his chest builds until he feels like dying. And wouldn't it be perfect that way ? If he died, he would only have to wait for her on the other side, and he wouldn't have to live without Scully, without fiery hair and fiercer arguments.

It would be perfect.

Everything hurts, and it would be absolutely perfect.

Something freezing lands on his cheeks, snapping him back to reality, enough to realize he needs to breathe now. His vision is blurry, but he thinks it's Scully in front of him, the distinct shade of her eyes shining in fear.

''Mulder ? Mulder, listen to me.'' I am listening, he wants to say, but there's no air in his lungs, his tongue is too heavy, and the words get stuck underneath the lump clogging his throat. ''You have to breathe, do you understand ? In and out. Listen to me, Mulder ! In. Out.'' He only manages to wheeze, tears hot on his skin. ''Come on, Mulder, for once in your life just listen to me ! Breathe. In and out.''

It builds in his chest, tearing through his throat, landing on his tongue with a bitterness he never associated with the word. Her fingers dig in his skin. It doesn't hurt, not really. She's still alive. At last, he chokes, ''Scully.''

''Yes, Mulder, that's it. I'm here, you're safe,'' she whispers, each of her words ending in a puff of air against his lips. She's so close, merely inches apart. She's so far away, here but not here, her skin still red from where she scrubbed clean her skin. Alive or dead, he can't tell. ''No, no, Mulder, just breathe. Don't think about anything, focus on my voice, alright ?''

He smiles through the agony in his body. Her voice sounds like music to his ear, her hands like a balm to his burning skin. He won't have any of this anymore. He will only have dust gathering on her shelves of the office, heavy silence and a heavier heart.

He's in love with her and she's dying.

''Mulder, please, breathe. You have to breathe. Come on, Mulder.''

He has never been able to refuse her anything.

(Sometimes, he can't decide whether she is his strength or weakness.)

So he does breathe. Only to soothe the fear lacing her tone. Only to appease the horror rising in her eyes. Only to lean a little more into her warmth.

Scully welcomes him, tugging him closer clumsily. Her lips are scorching against his skin. It's better than her cold hands. She whispers against his hair, shoulders shaking, and it takes him a long time to understand what she's saying. Her words are muffled but he recognises her tone, darkened by guilt.

''I'm sorry,'' she says again and again, hugging him so tight he doesn't know his body from hers.

He should be the one to apologise. He has ruined her bedding with his trashing and crying and whining. He has ruined her whole life too. Doesn't this deserve an apology ?

He's too tired to say anything but her name. ''Scully.''

It's okay, he wants to say, I'm a mess too.

Scully's arms tighten on him. She's wrapped around him in a way that makes him feel safe for the first time in his life. It's easier to breathe now. She smells like the wind and late nights of work.

He lets go, burying his face in the soft skin between her neck and shoulder, where he doesn't have to look at her hollowed cheeks and tired eyes. ''It's never going to be okay.''

Her chest stutters underneath him. ''No.'' Her cheek rests atop his head. ''No, it's not.''

Neither of them disentangles themselves from each other.

He wishes they could stay like this for the rest of their lives.