#msr's crimes are more like. constant breaking and entering

[gay-edwardian]

They're bi4bi. They're coworkers. They solve crimes. Nobody comments on the crimes they commit together. She's very pretty and fashionable and he's a guy in a suit (affectionate). They didn't sleep together but they didn't not sleep together. Their favourite mode of communication is the double entendre.

[scullydubois]

Only the Light Ch. 12

12/? | AU where Melissa moves in with Scully after Scully’s abduction | angst, msr slow-burn, occasional fluff | currently: Irresistible adjacent | T | 3.5k | previous chapters | read on ao3 | tagging: @today-in-fic

Scully gets major insight into what's wrong with her at her follow-up doctor's appointment. Then, Missy takes her to get a tarot card reading.

------------------

It is not Scully’s ideal Friday afternoon. The paper gown itches, the medical chair makes her feel like she’s on display, and Dr. Zapolsky is not exactly the next person she expected to be inside her. As Dr. Zapolsky’s wand probes around, Scully distracts herself by wondering what Mulder is up to. He submitted the Aubrey case report to Skinner yesterday--he told her over the phone--so that probably means he was assigned a new case today. He’ll be doing background research and formulating his crackpot theory then. It must be much more productive without her fighting him every step of the way.

Dr. Zaplosky finally gets her wand into place and points to the black-and-white image on the monitor. Scully and Missy, who sits off to the side, both watch intently. “So what we’re looking at here is the antral follicle count inside your ovaries,” the doctor explains. “Follicles contain the egg that gets released during ovulation, so essentially the higher the count, the more fertile you are.”

The image on the screen contains grey matter punctuated by a few dark circles. “Are the circles the follicles?” Scully asks, worry growing in her voice.

“Yes, ma’am.” Dr. Zapolsky repositions her wand and pulls the monitor toward her and Scully. “I have to be honest, this is an abnormal count for a thirty year old.” She taps a fingernail against each dark circle on the screen as she totals them up. “Five.” The word hangs in the air.

“That’s too low, isn’t it?” Scully says, posing it as a question though she already knows the answer.

“I’m afraid it is.” Dr. Zapolsky fiddles with the wand. “The average count for a woman in your age range is fifteen.”

While Dr. Zapolsky removes the wand, Missy watches her sister’s face. Blank. She bites her lip. Like twin telepathy, the emotion that Dana will refrain from letting out bubbles up inside her.

Scully takes her feet out of the stirrups, clutches her clothes in her lap. “How could this have happened?”

Dr. Zapolsky washes her hands. “Well, considering that you’ve had no irregularities in the past, it is unlikely that you’ve had a naturally low follicle count since birth. A number like that is very unusual, and the only women I’ve seen it in have had menstrual issues for years.”

“Is it something that could be…tampered with?” Scully swallows the lump in her throat away. The only thing worse than being a victim is the constant reminders of it.

“Again, unusual, but yes. I would suspect that an ova removal was performed.”

“You mean they harvested my eggs?” Scully’s voice has gone up an octave. She flirts with hysteria.

“Unfortunately so.”

“That’s horrendous,” Missy whispers, unable to stay quiet any longer.

“It seems that enough of the supply was removed to affect your hormone levels and stop ovulation altogether,” Dr. Zapolsky continues.

“So I’m menopausal then?” Scully digs her nails into her clothes. “Or at least premenopausal?”

“It’s still early, and it is possible that hormone replacement therapy could stimulate the follicle growth and perhaps promote fertility.”

“But my menstrual cycle is shut down, is that what you’re saying?” Scully presses. “If I didn’t do anything, I would enter menopause.”

“Most likely, Dana,” Dr. Zapolsky responds solemnly.

The back of Scully’s throat burns, threatening to unleash tears. “Well, I’d like to exhaust my options. I know early menopause can have detrimental health effects…”

“It can, and the hormone therapy would attempt to combat that.”

“And I would like to have the option of carrying a child, if possible.”

“Of course.”

Scully bites her lip and looks to her sister, whose eyes have filled with tears. She has to look away. Seeing Missy like that only breaks her even more.

“We’ll take care of you, Dana,” Dr. Zapolsky promises. “There are plenty of options, and I’ll provide you with information on them all.”

She musters a smile, nods. “Thank you Dr. Zapolsky.”

She does not feel thankful, not at all.

----------------

“Nonconsensual ova removal, that’s got to be some kind of crime, doesn’t it?” Missy asks as the elevator deposits them in the hospital parking garage.

“Medical rape, I suppose,” Scully replies, her voice flat and dissociated. “I don’t know if it could be prosecuted.”

“It sure as hell better be prosecuted,” Missy fumes.

“Well, my case is still open, but it’s not exactly a top priority.”

“Weird, isn’t it?” Missy huffs. “You work on the X-files, are the victim of an open x-file, and yet it gets pushed aside.”

“It’s not Mulder’s fault,” Scully stammers, the words flying out of her faster than she can process them.

“I never said it was.”

“Skinner and the Bureau can’t afford to keep us on it. Any case that goes longer than six weeks, that’s what happens. Like Mulder’s sister--that case is still open too.”

“That case is twenty years old, Dana. You were abducted two months ago.”

Scully says nothing. Does Missy think that she hasn’t counted the days since her return, eagerly anticipating the moment the number of days she’s been back exceeds the number that she was gone? She hits the unlock button on her key fob, the car’s highlights directing her and Missy toward it in the shadowy parking garage.

Missy speed-walks to the driver’s side. Scully grimaces.

“It’s my car, Missy. I’m fine, I’ve got it.”

Missy doesn’t move. “I know, but I want to take you somewhere.”

Scully sighs, lets her sister slide into the driver’s seat. “Do I even want to ask?”

“Well, I would expect you to.”

Scully settles into the passenger’s side as her sister cranks the engine.”What are the chances that I’ve been there before?”

“Are there such things as negative percentages?” Missy quips.

“Well--”

Missy cuts her off right there. “For these purposes, there’s not.” She glances over her shoulder, backs out of the spot, and guides the car down the maze of parking garage levels. “I’m taking you to a friend of a friend of mine’s. She’s a clairvoyant.”

Scully smirks. “Is that so?”

“She does palmistry and tarot cards readings, plus she can contact spirits,” Missy replies.

“Oh, well now that I know she talks to dead people…”

“C’mon Dana, she could really help you. You don’t go to therapy, so this is the least you could do.”

Scully laughs. “You think a psychic is comparable to therapy?”

“A good one, yes. I mean, that’s what you need right now, isn’t it? Some clarity about your future?”

Scully rolls her eyes. “I could get as much clarity from a magic 8 ball.”

“Some psychics are scammers, sure, but not Holly. Holly is a trained professional.”

“You can read palms and tarot cards too. Why go to her?”

“Because she doesn’t know you. You wouldn’t believe a word I say, and there’ll be no bias in Holly’s assessment.”

Scully glances over at her sister. Missy takes this to mean that she’s entertaining the idea. “It’s not like you have anywhere else to be,” Missy reminds her.

“You do,” Scully counters.

“At five. We’ve still got three hours before then, darling,” Missy says with a mischievous smile.

Scully lets herself be swept away. Holding tightly to the reins has done her no good.

------

A few minutes later, Scully finds herself in a house in the Virginia suburbs that looks permanently decorated for Halloween, on the inside at least. A bell rings as they enter the front door, the only indication that this is a shop formerly zoned in a residential area and not where someone lives. It is the exact cliche Scully would expect from a psychic's place, and it makes her feel no better about Missy’s insistence that the woman is a professional.

A woman with braided hair and long black nails emerges through a beaded curtain.

“Melissa! How nice to see you.” She and Missy trade kisses on the cheek like they’re in Europe. “And who do we have here?” the woman asks, casting a curious eye toward Scully.

“Holly, this is my sister Dana. She’s here for a reading.”

“Oh, how wonderful!” The woman approaches Scully and holds out her hands. Reluctantly, Scully grasps them. “You have a very fraught energy, Dana,” the woman says, the edges of her lips turning down. “I’d be interested in doing a tarot reading with you.”

Still holding the woman’s hands, Scully answers, “You can do what you want, but I can’t say that I’ll believe you.”

The woman lets go of Scully’s hands. “That’s okay. Just because you don’t believe it doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

Scully throws her sister a sideways glance. Missy smirks. It is rare for her sister to get so effortlessly shut down.

They make their way to a candlelit back room, and Scully is certain she must have walked onto the set of a bad movie. She keeps this thought to herself as Holly seats her at a cloth-covered table. Holly takes her place across from Scully and pulls a deck of cards from a shelf under the table. Missy sits at the table’s edge with a perfect view of both of them.

“I take it this is your first time getting a reading?” Holly asks as she shuffles the cards. Scully is impressed that she can do it with such long fingernails. She nods.

“Great, I always enjoy newcomers. I would like to do one of the most comprehensive readings with you, Dana. It’s called a Celtic Cross spread. Ten cards. What do you think, Melissa?”

“That’s exactly what I was going to suggest.”

“Perfect. Now normally, Dana, we use a question, chosen by you, to guide the process. However, the Celtic Cross is a spread that encompasses many areas of life, so it doesn’t require one.”

“Alright.” Scully doesn’t care what this woman does as long as Missy pays for it.

“You’ll draw ten cards, then I’ll place them down, flip them, tell you what each position means, and interpret each card. Finally, I’ll interpret the spread altogether.”

“Lovely.” She can’t help but throw some sarcastic bite in. This sounds like a rigorous process.

The deck shuffled, Holly fans the cards out and holds the display toward Scully. “Go ahead, pick one at a time and I will lay them out.”

She does as told--one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten-- until they are laid out in front of her in the shape of a roughly constructed cross.

“Wonderful.” Holly lays her own palms against the table. “Now, I’ll flip each one and tell you about them. Are you ready?” Holly looks up at Scully with piercing brown eyes. They remind her of Mulder’s when he’s frustrated.

“Yes ma’am,” she says, feeling suddenly submissive.

“Let’s begin with the present card, which reflects your current situation.” Holly turns the card, revealing a sketch of a burning building. The sudden desire to flee grips Scully, but she stays put. “The tower,” Holly says. “There has been an abrupt change in your life recently, one that you might call a disaster. You are scared, certainly, but you don’t need to be. Change is necessary when the foundation of what you believe has proved faulty. It is a survival mechanism.”

Scully stares at the card. What would she do if she were stuck in a skyscraper on fire? Jump. And panic the whole way down.

“Next card, please,” she mumbles.

“Alright.” Holly flips the second card, an upside down triangle. Scully hears Missy lick her lips.

“This is the three of pentacles reversed,” Holly explains. “This second spot represents the main challenge you are currently facing. We normally perceive a triangle as well-balanced and in synergy. The upside-down triangle means that you are dealing with a lack of teamwork. A power struggle in the work environment, perhaps? One that is keeping you from becoming your most enlightened self.”

Scully shakes her head. “If anyone’s keeping me from becoming my ‘most enlightened self’”--she puts air-quotes around that phrase--”it’s me.”

Holly continues. “The version of yourself that you feel like you have to be around that person is what’s holding you back. Work on expressing your truest self. If that person cares about you, they will accept it.”

Scully looks toward her sister, who might as well have a bucket of popcorn and some Junior Mints with how much she’s enjoying this. Missy winks, and Scully rolls her eyes and focuses back on Holly. “What’s the next card?” she asks with some apprehension.

“The third card represents the past.” Holly flips it, and Scully finds herself looking at an upside down goblet with a bird on top of it. “The ace of cups,” Holly remarks. “Reversed. You are coming out of a period of loss, emptiness, instability. The water was running out of your cup, so to speak. You’ve gotten used to pain and emotional exhaustion, maybe too used to it. Now you must lift yourself out of that dark place and step into the light. Leave the past in the past.”

Scully crosses her arms over her chest. Missy led her right into the belly of the faux motivational beast. This is worse than therapy, too belittling and sentimental.

“And the next card?” she asks, impatience building inside her.

“Card four, the future.” A balanced scale adorns the card. “Justice! The truth will come to pass. Whatever has happened, the offender will be held accountable, and the victim will breathe easy again.”

“That’s one of my favorite cards,” Missy pipes up.

Holly nods. “Who doesn’t love to see justice served?”

“Mmm,” Scully mumbles, not interested in furthering the conversation. She shifts in her seat. “What’s card five?”

“Card five is the conscious card. It represents the goals and desires that drive you.” She flips the fifth card. A woman with a sword stares back at them. “Queen of swords,” Holly remarks. “She makes principled, logical decisions, never letting herself be guided by her heart. Is it possible that you have embraced this as an ideal, molding yourself to fit this archetype?”

This is a rhetorical question--or at least she hopes it is--because Scully is not planning to answer it. “Insightful,” she snickers.

“Then we have card six, which represents the unconscious desires that are driving you. These are the values that you might not even understand yet, but which are most fervently directing you toward your goal.”

“Am I allowed to flip it myself?” Scully asks. “Or does that ruin it?”

“You pick them, I flip them,” Holly replies. “It maintains the balance. I appreciate your enthusiasm, though.”

Scully chuckles. For a psychic, Holly sure is reading her wrong.

Holly reveals the sixth card, ten cups in a circle. “The ten of cups. A beloved card. It indicates true emotional fulfillment. The feeling of having it all; harmony, peace, happiness. This is what you are unconsciously in pursuit of.”

“Isn’t everyone?” Scully interjects.

“Most people think they are, but very few actually are.”

Scully decides not to read into this. She’s expecting a full card-by-card breakdown from Melissa later anyway, so it’s best to expend as little brain power on this child’s play as possible.

“Card seven,” Holly continues, “indicates the influence of your perception of yourself on your life and advises how to move forward.”

Scully nods and watches as the woman flips a card with one less cup than before, all upside down. “Oh, the nine of cups reversed! This is often associated with dissatisfaction of some sort. Your life may look perfect, but it is still lacking. You have what you thought you wanted, yet it is not entirely what you want.” Holly locks eyes with Scully, who feels like a hostage at this point. “In times of discontent, it’s best to identify the parts of your life that are failing to fulfill you. Disregard the expectations of others, and listen to what your soul is saying.”

Scully purses her lips. Something inside her stirs, taps on some long-forgotten childhood impulse, makes her want to cry. She will not. She will not.

“And what’s the next card?” she asks, her voice gravelly.

“External influences. The energies around you that impact your energy.”

“Huh.” Scully blinks. “I thought this was an internal assessment.”

“It is,” Missy replies before Holly can get to it. “What shapes you more than the people you spend time with?” She sends a smirk her sister’s way.

“Ah,” Scully replies, directing her attention back toward Holly before Missy can cause any more trouble.

Holly flips the eighth card, revealing a man holding a staff high in the air. “The king of wands. A motivating energy. Someone who is a bit of a visionary, a natural born leader who follows through and carries out their goals. For someone who is more restrained, the king of wands can really get them out of their comfort zone.”

Scully nods, not able to debate this one.

Holly takes a breath. “And the ninth card, perhaps the most telling one. It is an analysis of both hopes and fears, reflecting how what you most fear may be exactly what you need, or vice versa.” Holly flips the card, and Scully is face to face with a skull and crossbones. She laughs--regrettably--out loud. “Death?”

“Yes, this is the death card,” Holly remarks. “But don’t be scared, it doesn’t mean literal death. It represents rebirth and renewal, actually. A metamorphosis is upon you, and you have the opportunity to change your life for the better.”

“And I fear that?” Always the skeptic, she is.

“You fear the unknown that comes with change. You mistakenly believe that change only yields bad outcomes, when your life has proven that to be false multiple times.”

Scully bites her lip, annoyed by the audacity of this woman to assume that she ‘knows’ her because of some cards. “And the final card…?”

“Yes. Card number ten is the outcome. A summary of your situation and its likely resolution.” Holly turns the final card, a divinely dressed woman on a throne. “The empress,” she says. “A wonderful card for you.”

Scully furrows her brow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, the empress is an expression of feminine nature. It’s deeply associated with fertility and nurturing.”

“And what does that have to do with me?”

“Well, you have a little girl, don’t you?” Holly says confidently, as if she had heard it from Missy.

“No.” Scully shakes her head. “I have no children. I can’t have children.”

“Oh.” Holly dodges Scully’s glance. “Well, you would make a great mother, Dana.”

“You don’t even know me,” Scully practically growls. “You just know the stupid cards.”

Scully’s chair howls as she pushes away from the table. She disappears through the beaded curtain before Missy has even gotten up.

“I’m sorry about her, Holly,” Missy murmurs. “She’s going through a very sensitive time. How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it. Pay it forward, treat your sister to something that will make her feel better.”

“Are you sure? You did a wonderful job, you deserve compensation for your time.”

“Spend it on your sister,” Holly emphasizes. “She needs it more than me.”

Missy pats Holly on the shoulder. “Thank you. I will stop by again soon, I promise.”

Holly smiles, nods. “Goodbye, Melissa. And say thank you to Dana for me.”

The bell pings behind Missy as she exits the shop. Outside, her sister’s in the driver’s seat with the engine already running. Missy slides into the passenger’s seat.

“Quite a performance there,” Missy teases. “You missed your standing ovation.”

Scully grips the steering wheel with perfect 9-and-3 positioning even though they are still in park. “I want to go home, not be lectured by some woman who uses a game to say the same generic crap to everyone.”

“But it didn’t feel generic, did it?” Missy probes her sister’s face. “You connected with much of what she said.”

“And I’m sure you did too, because it’s just universal truths of humanity served in bite-size portions. Vague enough that you can connect them to your life and feel like some incredible spiritual reading is taking place.”

Missy raises a brow. “Are you this difficult with Mulder?” It comes off harsher than intended. Scully���s gaze drops to her lap, her psyche pierced.

“I guess you’d have to ask Mulder, wouldn’t you?” she responds coolly, shifting the car into reverse and cutting off any further conversation.

If her sister--the one person she feels most willing to be herself with--thinks she is difficult, then how must everyone else view her? Especially Mulder, who is only trying to grow out of his trauma. He must hate her for making it so hard, and for what? So she can have the satisfaction of being right? Truly, what would she lose if aliens knocked on Mulder’s door this very day?...Her pride? She cannot bear to think about it any longer, how her partner must hate her and yet has been so good to her. How she deserves none of it.