[email protected]
RATING: PG-13 for adult situations
KEYWORDS: UST, DAL, M&S Angst
SPOILERS: mostly Christmas Carol and Emily; some tiny ones from the
first couple of seasons
ARCHIVING: I'd be absolutely honored. Just let me know so I can come
visit.
SUMMARY: Scully tries to shut out the grief of Emily's death, but Mulder
helps her realize that for once, she just needs to let it all out.
NOTES: Although I've written two shorter stories, this is my first long
story ever. I started it when I first saw CC/Emily last December, and
I've been working on it since. So if the tone from the beginning sounds
a little different from the end, that's why. But give it a chance, and
hopefully you'll like it. One of the main reasons I wrote this was
because I felt that Scully's grief had been overlooked until All Souls,
and I wanted to somehow understand how she must have felt that first
night after Emily's death.
FEEDBACK: As I said, this is my first long story, and I'd really love
to hear what you think about it. So please e-mail me!
([email protected])
DISCLAIMER: Mulder, Scully, Emily, and the other characters I mentioned
don't belong to me. I'm just borrowing them for a little bit, and
promise to return them at the end in good condition. No infringement
intended towards Chris Carter or Ten Thirteen.
And special thanks to my betas: Barb, Gayle, and the other people who
looked at it and gave me advice along the way. I couldn't thank you
guys enough for all of the time that you gave up to help me.
Crying Out Loud
by Piper
**************
The gold cross felt cool against her forehead, a stark contrast to the
hot tears that were beginning to spill onto her cheeks. She heard her
partner come to stand behind her, but she could not will herself to
move. Gently, Mulder placed his hands on her shoulders, afraid that the
slightest pressure would shatter her into a thousand pieces. He felt
her shoulders heaving slightly from the strain of withholding the sobs
that were threatening to consume her. Suddenly, without warning, Scully
jerked away from his hands and walked a couple of steps towards the
door. With her back still to him, she said in a forcefully controlled
voice, "I want to go home, Mulder."
The drive to Scully's apartment was a silent one, the tension nearly
tangible in the car. Scully's tears had subsided only to be replaced by
a blank expression, and had it not been for the streaks left upon her
face, Mulder would never have believed that she had been crying. Her
lips were set in a straight line, sending off the clear message that she
was unwilling to talk. Only the stiffness of her shoulders belied how
hard she was trying to hold herself together. A couple of times, Mulder
opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. What do you say to a
woman who has lost the only child she could ever have? How do you make
the pain go away? Mulder wished like hell he knew the answers to those
questions, because he didn't know how much longer he could bear to watch
Scully in such pain. All he wanted to do was take her into his arms and
hold her until they both stopped hurting, but he knew that was not their
way.
While Mulder was lost in his thoughts, Scully stared straight ahead at
the passing sights, not really focusing on anything. The one time she
risked actually looking out the window, she saw a young mother pushing a
little baby in a stroller along the sidewalk. Sucking in a breath, she
straightened her shoulders and once more resumed her sightless vigil
over the road. Don't think, Dana, just don't think. Trying to find
anything to distract her from thinking about Emily, she instead focused
in on Mulder, trying to read his thoughts. It was an unconscious act
that she had perfected over the years, and it was one of the things that
made them such good partners as well as friends. Mulder had the same
ability. Words weren't necessary with them, and it was no different
now. Sympathy was radiating from every pore of Mulder's being, along
with another emotion that Scully had seen once too many. Mulder-guilt.
It was so strong that it was nearly crushing him, yet she knew that his
only concern was to find some way to comfort her. Had she not felt
completely devoid of emotion, she probably would have smiled at the
irony. For two people who were so in tune with one another, they sure
as hell had a problem defining what they meant to one another. But that
was another one of those subjects that neither was about to touch with a
ten foot pole.
Both lost in their own thoughts, the agents seemed surprised to find
that they had already reached Scully's apartment. From her seat in the
car, Scully could see the light on in the window of her apartment.
Home. Funny how that word had such a hollow, empty meaning to it. Home
is where the heart is. She had grown up with that phrase, and now it
seemed to laugh in her face. This wasn't home. She had once shared a
home with her family, her mother and father happily married, and three
siblings to tease her mercilessly but also love her. No matter where
they moved, or which house they moved into, it was always home. But now
they were all scattered. Her father was gone, and her beloved sister
had been lost to the same quest that had claimed her daughter's life as
well. She was all alone now. This wasn't home. Emily had never played
within these walls, never called her Mommy here, never taken her first
steps upon this floor. This wasn't home.
Suddenly a sob burst from Scully's throat, and she crammed her fist into
her mouth to stifle it. Her teeth bit into her knuckles, trying to
overcome the pain that was crashing over her like waves. Out of the
corner of one eye, she saw Mulder reach a hand out towards her, his eyes
filled with pain for her suffering. Unable to accept his support,
Scully yanked the car door open and walked blindly to her apartment,
somehow managing to unlock the door through the haze of tears misting
her eyes. She heard Mulder's footsteps rushing to catch up with her,
but she ignored them. All she could feel was the pain. The pain that
would no longer be held at bay.
**********
Scully walked into her apartment, hardly able to see through the tears
falling from her eyes. She tried to close the door behind her, but
Mulder had managed to slip his foot into the crack.
"Scully..." he began.
"Go away, Mulder," she said shakily. Scully moved away from the door to
face the window, trying to regain the remaining vestiges of her
composure. She heard Mulder enter and close the door behind him, but
she still didn't turn around to face him. Silently, she steeled her
nerves and scrubbed away the few remaining tears on her cheeks. "I will
not break down in front of him. I will not break down in front of
him..." She repeated this mantra to herself over and over in her head,
refusing to show any signs of weakness.
Mulder watched her swipe angrily at her tears and stiffen her shoulders,
knowing that she was once again erecting the walls that she kept so
carefully constructed around her heart. Those walls which had supported
her through her sister's death and through her near-fatal dance with
cancer, and which were now supporting her through the grief of her
daughter's death. The walls that only came down when she showered
compassion on him, but never for herself. Mulder felt waves of guilt
wash over him, felt himself drowning in the grief and sorrow that was
threatening to consume his partner as well. He fought the urge to sink
to the floor under the weight of the blows that fate had dealt them.
The blows that were brought upon by his search for the "Truth." But he
knew he could not give in to his guilt, to his grief. Not now, not when
Scully needed him. He tentatively took a few steps forward, coming to
stand close behind her.
"Scully?"
She squared her shoulders and with one final shaky sob, turned to face
him. Her crystal blue eyes looked deeply into his hazel ones and saw
the emotions that were swirling in their depths: compassion, grief,
guilt, and pity. It was the last one that finally made her break the
contact, turning her gaze towards the floor instead.
"I'm fine, Mulder."
The words left her mouth without her even thinking about them, an
automatic response repeated like a broken record over the course of four
years. A response she had perfected in time because she couldn't bear
the thought of being pitied by anyone, especially Mulder. And just as
in previous instances, neither one of them was convinced by her words.
But this time, Mulder didn't let her get away with it. Instead, he
gently placed two fingers under her chin and tilted her head up. The
gesture was so poignant that it instantly brought tears to her eyes.
She looked at him through their mist and was astonished to see a new
emotion in his brilliant eyes: anger. Anger that was directed at her.
Through clenched teeth, he muttered, "Fine? Are you fine, Scully? I'm
sorry, but this isn't exactly my definition of fine." He turned and
walked a couple of steps away, then whirled to face her. "For four
years, I've watched you endure horrors that people don't even dream
about in their worst nightmares. Yet all you could say to me each time
was, 'I'm fine, Mulder.' And now you've lost the only daughter that you
would have ever been able to claim as your own, and all you can tell me
is that you're fine? I'm sorry Scully, but you are NOT fine."
Scully stared open-mouthed at her partner, shocked by this unexpected
tirade. How dare he get angry with her during her time of grief? And
how dare he bring up the fact that she couldn't have children when the
wound was still raw? The sadness in her eyes was quickly replaced with
anger. She closed the distance between them and grabbed him by the
collar. "Who do you think you are to tell me how I feel? And how the
hell would you know how it feels to lose a child, the only one I could
ever have? To have this feeling of emptiness inside of me, knowing that
I will never be able to be a complete woman, to give birth to a child?
To know that I'm barren? You could never know how that feels. If you
had, you wouldn't have kept the truth from me in some sick attempt to
protect me. You would have told me!"
Scully abruptly let go of Mulder's collar and stepped back. He was
still slightly stunned by her words, and carefully met her gaze. What
he saw there chilled him to his bone. Her eyes had become blank, the
passion that had been there just a few seconds ago frozen in their icy
blue depths. They were emotionless and unseeing. With growing panic,
Mulder realized that Scully was withdrawing into herself, into a dark
place where she could not be reached. And he was powerless to stop it
because he was the one who put her there. In a voice as cold as her
expression, Scully finally spoke. "Get out, Mulder."
"Scully....." Before Mulder could continue, Scully turned around and
walked into her bedroom. The sound of the door closing was like a punch
to Mulder's gut. For a few moments that seemed more like an eternity,
he just stood there staring at her bedroom door. He wanted to go in
there, to shake some sense in her, to pull her back from the abyss that
she was falling into. But he couldn't. She had shut him out
completely, erecting a barrier between them that only she could break
down herself. Mulder understood the dark place that she was in right
now, the grief that was enveloping her like a thick cloud. He had been
there too many times, when the only thing left to do was to shut
everything and everyone out, to no longer feel anymore. Scully had to
find the strength within her to overcome this. There was nothing he
could do to help, but he would not let her go through this alone. He
would give her a reason to come back to him.
Shutting her bedroom door, Scully leaned back against it. Her legs
wobbled beneath her and she slowly sank to the floor, pulling her knees
up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She rested her chin
above her crossed arms and sat staring into space, not even bothering to
turn the light on. The darkness was good; it was her friend. The light
made you see things around you, made you realize what was missing. No,
the darkness was fitting. Through the door, she heard a muffled sound
and recognized it as the lock being turned in the front door. She
vaguely realized that Mulder must have let himself out and locked the
door behind him. Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she
glanced unseeingly around the room. Everything was the same. For some
reason, that struck her as odd. Within the course of a couple of days,
her life had been irrevocably altered, and yet everything still looked
the same. A mirthless laugh escaped her lips, but there was no humor in
the sound. It was appropriately fitting, this illusion that nothing had
changed. Somehow, it felt that her entire life had been an illusion,
momentary happiness twisted into a web of lies and deception. Her chest
felt hollow, an empty place where her heart should have been. She no
longer felt any grief, any pain. In fact, she didn't feel anything at
all. There were no emotions bubbling under the surface, making her feel
alive. Oddly enough, she didn't regret this feeling of emptiness.
Sometimes it's better not to feel, she mused. With that thought, she
got up and changed into her pajamas, slipping into bed.
************
2:00 a.m.
After tossing and turning for four hours without any hope of sleep,
Scully dragged herself out of bed. Her nerves were stretched tight, and
she figured a glass of warm milk might help keep the demons at bay.
Opening the bedroom door, she flicked on the light to the living room.
She was just passing the back of the sofa when she felt something grasp
her wrist. Scully felt her blood run cold and let out an audible gasp
before pulling away.
Mulder jumped up from the sofa, shocked by Scully's reaction. Didn't
she recognize his touch by now? Using a soothing voice, he softly said,
"Scully, calm down. It's just me." He slowly started towards her, his
steps tentative so as to not frighten her. But Scully began backing
away from him, everything crashing down around her now that her tenuous
grasp on sanity had been broken. Belatedly, Mulder realized that she
was sobbing, heart wrenching sobs wracking her tiny frame. Torn between
the desire to comfort her and the need to give her space, he finally
began to approach her once more. Scully continued to back away,
sobbing, "Don't come near me!" Mulder ignored her words and closed the
distance between them, forcefully taking her into his arms and wrapping
them around her thin, shaking body. She struggled to break free, but
Mulder just responded by tightening his arms even more.
He pulled Scully closer to his chest, feeling her tears begin to soak
through his T-shirt. Tears began to fall on his cheeks, tears not of
physical pain but out of grief for everything this precious woman had
lost because of him. After a couple of moments, she stopped struggling
and rested her head against his chest. Mulder literally felt the energy
drain out of her. Her sobs receded and the only sound she emitted was a
soft whisper, asking, "Why me?"
At the sound of this delicate question, Mulder's chest tightened.
Feeling the trembling beneath her forehead, Scully raised her swollen
eyes to his. For a moment, she forgot her own grief when she saw the
sadness and utter despair in his eyes. Softly, he answered her
question. "It's because of me, Scully. They did this to you because of
me." Breaking away from her embrace, he stepped away from her. He felt
something snap inside his chest, something that had been stretched to
the breaking point time and again and now finally tore apart. His voice
broke on his words. "It's all my fault, Scully. You should get away
from me. All I can do is hurt you. I hurt everyone near me. Samantha
disappeared because of me. My father died in my arms because of me.
Your sister died because of me. And now your little girl died because
of me. I'm poison, Scully. Poison."
Scully simply stared at Mulder, shocked into silence by his words.
Mulder searched her eyes for a moment, then ran his gaze over her face,
silently memorizing every feature. He knew what he had to do, that it
was the only way, but knowing that didn't make it any easier. Feeling
his own eyes fill with tears, he reached into his pocket and pulled out
his keys. With slightly fumbling fingers, he began to work the key
marked "S" off of the key ring. Once it was removed, he stepped closer
to Scully, who had been watching his actions in stunned silence. Taking
her hand in his, he placed the key in her open palm and gently folded
her fingers over it. Scully simply stared at her hand, feeling the cold
weight digging into her palm. Mulder still had her hand in his grasp,
and he ran his thumb lightly over her knuckles. She finally lifted her
eyes to his, and read in them his final message. Goodbye.
Breaking the eye contact, Mulder turned away from her. Grabbing his
shirt off the back of the couch, he walked towards her front door. When
he reached the doorknob, he paused. Without turning to look back, he
spoke quietly.
"I'm sorry."
Then he opened the door and left.
*************
Minutes passed, yet Scully remained standing right where she was. She
could feel the weight of the key in her hand, and a multitude of
thoughts flew through her head. Mulder had just walked out of her life.
Just walked out. Just like that. So simply, so easily. When her
brain began to sift through the astonishment, she felt anger rise within
her. Hot, furious, blinding anger. Without another thought, she
grabbed her car keys and added them to the key that Mulder had given
her, and walked out of her apartment, pajamas and all.
The drive to Mulder's apartment was short, probably because she broke
every speed limit in the book to get there. When she got to his street,
his car was already there and he was nowhere to be seen. Her car was
barely in park before she jumped out and crossed the road to his
building. Her anger fuelled her speed, and made her choose to forego
the elevator and take the stairs. By the time she arrived on the fourth
floor, she was breathing heavily. But she didn't stop to catch her
breath. Instead, she strode to his door and used her own key to unlock
it. When she opened it, no light poured out into the hallway, but she
could see Mulder's silhouette standing beside his coffee table. Feeling
her anger rise within her, she stepped into the room and closed the door
behind her. Reaching for his lamp, she flicked the switch on, dimly
lighting the room. Mulder stood there in silence, looking at her
carefully, and for a second, she thought she detected an observant look
in them. That confused her for a moment, but she didn't let it deter
her.
Taking a step forward, she bent down and placed her apartment key on
Mulder's coffee table. He looked down at it, then looked back up at
her. Her hands were on her hips, her breathing still heavy. Pinning
him with her gaze, she finally spoke, her voice low and controlled.
"Where do you get off?"
Mulder's neck stiffened at her words, and he opened his mouth to speak.
But he was only able to say, "Scully..." before she raised her hand to
stop him.
"No, Mulder, you've said enough. Now it's your turn to listen to me.
You were so busy blaming every single thing in my life on yourself that
you never even stopped to ask me how I felt about it. Did it ever occur
to you that maybe I don't blame you for anything that's happened in the
past four years?"
"But Scully, I blame myself."
She just looked at him, an almost bemused expression on her face.
"Mulder, you have no control over what happens in our lives. You didn't
make me join the FBI; I joined of my own free will. And I knew the
dangers and risks involved when I made that decision."
Mulder gave a short, humorless laugh.
"Yeah, but you must admit being partnered with me has put you in more
danger than doing the two-step in an active minefield."
Scully shook her head slowly, words eluding her for a moment.
"God, Mulder, do you really believe that? Yes, we've been in danger
more than a couple times throughout the course of our partnership, and
yes, our lives have been at risk. But I'm alive today because of you.
You've saved me more times than I can count, even risking your own life
for my own. So how can you even believe that you put me in danger?"
Mulder's mouth turned upward at the corners in a self-deprecating smile.
"My mere presence is enough to put people in danger, Scully."
With those words, Mulder's shoulders slumped, and his gaze dropped to
the floor once again. It was apparent that he felt the conversation,
and the partnership, were over.
"Mulder."
At the sound of Scully's voice, Mulder's shoulders tightened. Without
looking up at her, he rasped, "Go home, Scully."
Scully shook her head defiantly even though she knew he couldn't see
her.
"Mulder, I want you to look at me and I want you to listen very
carefully to what I have to say."
At the commanding note in her voice, Mulder finally looked up. As soon
as her gaze locked with his, Scully spoke.
"I'm not Samantha."
The air in the room went dead silent, and a stricken look crossed
Mulder's face. Never breaking eye contact with him, Scully slowly moved
forward till she stood right in front of him. Reaching down, she took
both of his hands and held them in her own.
"Mulder, when I first walked into your office four years ago, you
weren't alone. The spirit of your sister was in that room with you,
hidden carefully by the sarcastic front that you put up for me. On our
first case, you opened up to me. You told me what happened to your
sister, that she was abducted by aliens. And although the abduction
scenario may have made me doubt your sanity a bit, it never made me
doubt how much you loved your sister."
A shutter fell over Mulder's eyes at Scully's words, and his hands hung
limply in her own.
"My love wasn't enough to protect her, Scully."
At the pain in his voice, Scully tightened her grip on his hands.
"Mulder, you were a kid yourself. It was never your job to protect her.
Just as it's not your job to protect me. To this day, you blame
yourself about what happened to Samantha. I'm not going to become her.
I refuse to let you blame yourself about what happened to me."
Mulder looked down at Scully, and she looked back up at him, a spark
flaring in her eyes that he was afraid he'd never get to see again after
the dead look in her eyes just hours ago. He opened his mouth to say
something, but she began speaking again.
"Mulder, I embarked on this journey of my own free will. I *choose* to
come to the office everyday, to work by your side. I *choose* to be in
your life. And you have no right to take that choice away from me."
Scully looked up at her partner with a hint of defiance in her eyes, and
his eyes softened. Holding her hands tighter in his, he spoke softly,
almost in a whisper.
"And yet you took that choice away from me."
Pulling away from him slightly, a look of confusion passed over Scully's
face.
"What do you mean?"
Mulder moved a bit closer to her, once again closing up the distance
that Scully had created. He locked his gaze with hers and spoke while
looking directly in her eyes, never breaking contact.
"Scully, when Emily was dying, you shut me out. Out of your life, out
of her life. You didn't let me be there for both of you. And that
hurt. Later on, at your apartment, you shut me out again. You didn't
allow me to share your grief in one of the most important moments in
your life, in our lives. You took my choice away from me."
Scully looked up at Mulder with muted shock in her eyes. She opened her
mouth to speak, to defend herself, but he gently laid a fingertip upon
her parted lips, and her mouth closed again.
"Scully, regardless of what you say, I do blame myself for a lot of what
has happened in your life. Because the basic truth is, if you had never
met me, you'd probably be married with your 2.5 children right now. And
you know that I would never want anything to hurt you. But the reason
that I stay in your life is because I can't imagine mine without you in
it. And because somewhere deep down in my heart, I hope that I bring
you even the slightest measure of happiness that you bring me. I stay
because even though you say that you don't need me, if you ever do then
I want to be there for you."
Hope was beginning to dawn in Scully's eyes again, slowly pushing away
the grief and anger in them. But doubt still lingered.
With slight hurt in her voice, she whispered, "But you left tonight."
Mulder cupped her cheeks gently in his hands, raising her eyes to his.
"I left tonight because you didn't allow me to do any of those things.
You took away the place that I've claimed for myself in your life. And
I left because tonight I watched you retreat to a very dark place inside
yourself, and I knew I had to bring you back somehow."
Scully gasped, the hope in her eyes beginning to fade again. She tried
to pull away from Mulder, but his hands held her in place.
"You mean this was all a set-up?"
Mulder flinched at the tinge of betrayal in her voice and shook his head
vehemently.
"No! Everything I said tonight is true, Scully. When I left you
tonight, I knew that one of two things could happen. You could decide
that our partnership just wasn't worth it anymore after everything that
you lost. And as much as that decision would have hurt me, I knew that
it was probably the best thing for you in the long run. But deep in my
heart, I prayed that you would follow me and come back to me, that you
would ask me to stay. And you did. But you still haven't let me in.
You're so intent on being the strong one in our partnership that you
never stop to realize that you need to let everything out once in awhile
too. This has always been an equal partnership. I rely on you for your
strength and use your shoulder when I need to cry on it. Why won't you
let me do the same for you?"
Mulder's voice caught on the last question, and he swallowed heavily to
push back the tears clawing at his throat. Scully pulled away from him,
and this time he let her go. Her arms wrapped themselves around her
waist, and she broke her gaze away from his. Looking down at the floor,
she whispered her answer.
"Because I don't know how."
Looking up at him, she continued with more strength in her voice.
"I don't know how *not* to be the strong one, Mulder. All my life, I
was the backbone of our family. Bill and Charlie were too busy being
boys to help much around the house and Melissa was always lost in a
world of her own. So I was the one who helped Mom all the time, who
supported her each time my father left, suppressing my own tears so that
I would not sadden her further. And now, it's almost become a habit.
And I'm so afraid..."
Scully stopped abruptly, suddenly realizing that she had already
revealed too much. She turned away from Mulder, but he was quicker.
Gently tugging her shoulders, he turned her back around to face him.
Tipping her chin up with his finger, he remained silent until she
finally looked up at him.
"Afraid of what, Scully?"
She tried to lower her chin but he refused to let her, so she lowered
her gaze instead. Mulder grasped her shoulders and gave her a gentle
shake.
"Afraid of what, Scully?"
For a moment, it seemed like she was going to remain silent, no answer
forthcoming. But then she spoke in a low whisper.
"I'm afraid that if I break one wall down, all of them will come
crashing down and I'll shatter into a million pieces."
Mulder muttered a curse low under his breath and pulled her into his
embrace. Wrapping his arms tightly around her, he shook his head above
hers.
"And I'd be right here to help you pick the pieces back up again. But
you have to let me in, Scully. You can't keep going on like this,
shutting everyone out, always being the strong one. Let me be the
strong one for a change. Please."
Scully remained still in his arms, not speaking, not moving. Mulder
could feel the heavy rise and fall of her chest against his, but he knew
she was not crying. Seconds passed into minutes, and neither spoke.
Finally, as Mulder opened his mouth to break the silence, Scully moved.
She stepped back out of the circle of his arms and looked at him, her
eyes shuttered. The hope in Mulder's heart began to die a slow, painful
death as he watched her spine stiffen.
"I think it's time for me to go home."
Mulder reached his arm towards her, but at the wary look in her eyes, he
let it fall back to his side. His jaw tightened, and he looked down at
his partner. Her eyes were expressionless, yet for a fleeting moment he
thought he saw a flicker of need in them. The look passed quickly out
of her eyes, but it prompted him to speak, his tone carefully guarded.
"Look, it's almost morning. There's no point in you driving all the way
home at this late hour. Why don't you go ahead and take the bedroom and
I'll sleep on the couch?"
Silence met Mulder's words, and for a moment, he was afraid that Scully
would refuse. Her eyes searched his, and finally a small sigh left her
lips. Without a word, she headed to the bathroom.
*********
Mulder watched her retreating back, and as the door closed behind her, a
small sigh escaped his own lips. They had been so close; *she* had been
so close. Yet she couldn't take the final step. He felt his chest
tighten and his throat start to burn. His hands involuntarily clenched
into fists at his sides, and he swiped one angrily across his eyes,
willing the burning ache to go away. He felt powerless, helpless. He'd
done everything he could think of, and yet it still hadn't been enough.
He was out of ideas, and nearly out of hope. His clothes felt heavy
with his own grief and with Scully's, and he finally moved towards his
bedroom to remove the suit that he had worn to the funeral.
Emerging from his room moments later in a T-shirt and shorts, he paused
outside the bathroom door. He could hear the water pounding against the
shower wall, and for a moment he allowed himself to imagine the sound of
falling water to be tears falling from Scully's eyes, her grief being
released and drained away by the cleansing water of the shower. As this
thought passed through his head, Mulder emitted a low, bitter laugh from
his throat. Most people wanted to see their loved ones smiling,
laughing with joy. He just wanted to see Scully finally cry. Shoving
his hand roughly through his hair, he turned away from the door and made
his way to the couch. As much as he wanted to do something, anything,
to close the gap that he felt forming between them, deep down he knew
the journey was now Scully's to make. He had provided the opening, the
bridge for communication. She would have to make her way across it.
*********
As the water fell against Scully's back, she pushed her wet hair away
from her eyes. Her mind was strangely quiet, the result of too many
thoughts running amok and eventually silencing each other out. Only one
question continued to pester her: Why did she stay? Why didn't she just
go home like she said? How did she allow Mulder to convince her to
stay? Okay, maybe three questions. But they all had the same
answer-she couldn't face her empty apartment. She couldn't go home and
envision a crib in her bedroom, tiny clothes in the laundry basket, baby
powder in the bathroom, a high chair in the kitchen. She couldn't
listen to the silence knowing it should be filled with the laughter of a
beautiful three-year-old girl. She just couldn't, and she knew Mulder's
apartment would not cause her the same pain.
But what about Mulder, the little voice inside her head asked.
Scully sighed. Despite the water pounding against her back, she felt
her body grow tense again. Mulder. She had come so close tonight, so
close to finally sharing her grief with him. But in the end, she
couldn't. And now she couldn't tell what saddened her more-the fact
that she didn't open up to Mulder, or the fact that she nearly did.
Mulder had one thing right-it was hard always being strong. But she had
told him the truth. She didn't know any other way to be.
Scully sighed again. The shower just wasn't helping her take her mind
off things. Turning around, she cut off the water. Belatedly, she
realized that she had forgotten to grab a clean towel on her way into
the shower. A frustrated grumble escaped her lips, and she reached for
Mulder's towel instead. It was her biggest mistake that night.
As soon as she brought the towel close to her body, Mulder's scent found
its way to her nostrils, and she inhaled deeply. Just one breath, and
tears instantly formed in her eyes. It smelled so...Mulder. It was the
scent of his comforting presence, his solid strength, his unwavering
faith, his good heart. It was the scent that she first smelled when she
had hugged him out of relief that they were just mosquito bites. It was
the scent she had smelled when she cried against his chest after Donnie
Pfaster. It was the scent that she had smelled when she had come out of
her coma and Mulder had entered the room. It was the scent she had
smelled when Mulder had held her close to him in the hospital, vowing
that they would fight her cancer. It was the pure essence of the man
who was everything to her, and without whom she wouldn't be alive,
literally or figuratively. And that knowledge nearly brought her to her
knees.
Scully buried her face in the towel, tears quietly flowing out of her
eyes. It hurt not to be able to open herself up to him. It hurt every
time she uttered the words "I'm fine." And it hurt every time she saw
the same look in his eyes, wanting to reach out to her yet having to
give her the space she demanded. God, it hurt.
Wiping the tears away with his towel, she hung it back up again. She
couldn't stand any more of that scent. Climbing out, she reached for
the clean shorts and T-shirt that she *had* remembered to grab from
Mulder's room. Pulling them on, she made her way to the mirror and
pulled out Mulder's comb. It wasn't the same as her brush, but it'd
have to do. She swiped it through her hair vigorously, releasing her
tension on the poor, innocent strands. But the pain felt good.
When she looked up at the mirror, she realized that it was hazy. Just
like her life, her feelings, her emotions. That got a humorless laugh
out of her. Funny how grief managed even to turn a cloudy mirror into a
meaningful metaphor. For a moment, she considered wiping it off, just
for the heck of it. But then she realized she really didn't want to.
//Look.//
She shook her head defiantly, trying to silence the tiny voice in her
head that was making itself known again. She didn't want to look. She
didn't want to see the wasted body left behind after her cancer, the
pale skin, the protruding cheekbones that resulted from severe weight
loss. She didn't want to see life's toll upon her body.
//Look.//
This time, the voice was not her own. It was Mulder's, in her head,
gently urging her to confront what she was so desperately trying to
deny. Urging her to realize what she was doing to herself. Almost
against her own will, her hand reached for the mirror and slowly wiped
away the moisture. As her reflection emerged, her hand dropped limply
to her side. She saw everything she had expected-the thinness of her
face, the pale skin, the cheekbones. But she hadn't expected to see her
eyes.
Her eyes were dull, colorless. The sparkling blue that had once been
there was now replaced with a lifeless gray. And the look in her eyes
was so...haunted. They were shadowed with grief, which was
understandable, but there was something more. Need. Dark, desperate
need. The need to finally let it all go, before it was too late and she
was too far gone. The need to share her grief with someone. The need
to finally allow someone else to take care of her, to hold her close and
whisper to her that it's going to be okay.
Scully closed her eyes, unable to stand the sight of her reflection any
more. She knew she should dry her hair, but she couldn't stand being in
this bathroom any longer. Who would have thought a single bathroom
could bring so much pain, so many insights? She had to get out of
there. Dropping the comb on the counter, she unlocked the door and let
herself out.
In the hallway, she paused. There were two ways she could go. One way
led to Mulder. It led to a rough path to be traveled, but in the end it
could lead her home. The other way led to his empty bed where she would
sleep alone. It posed no risk, no threats to her. It was comfortable
and secure. She wouldn't have to do anything she didn't want to,
wouldn't have to open herself up to him. Her gaze went towards the
living room, but in the end, her footsteps led her to the bedroom. She
couldn't do it.
************
An hour had passed, but sleep still eluded her. Every time she closed
her eyes, her mind was filled with images of Emily. She had gotten so
precious little time with her. It just wasn't fair.
Scully had never really thought much about having children. It was just
another thing on her list of things to do eventually in her life. She
wanted children, but so far, she had just never had the time or the
opportunity.
But when Emily had entered her life, everything had changed. She was
ready to have a child-she knew that. She had everything all planned
out. Her life was no longer going to take a backseat to her career.
Emily was more important to her than anything, and even dearer to her
when she learned that she was the only child she could possibly ever
have.
She should have known better than to have made plans. Someone had once
told her that if you wanted to make God laugh, tell Him your plans. God
must have had a really good laugh at her expense then.
Scully touched the cross that was once again hanging around her neck.
Her earlier question to Mulder came back to haunt her. Why me, she had
asked him. He had told her that it was his fault, that she had lost
Emily because of him. But she didn't believe that for a second. She
refused to believe it. Ever since she was a little girl, she had been
taught that God protects His children. God loves His children. But
then why would He let this happen to her, and to her innocent little
girl? Why?
Scully felt her chest tighten, and she pushed back the tears that were
clawing at her throat. When she had been faced with her cancer, she had
realized that she had allowed her faith to slip away. She had told her
mother that she wore a cross whose meaning she didn't even understand.
Her mother had done the only thing she could think of for her
daughter-she sent Father McCue to talk to her. And Scully had prayed
with him. She prayed for Mulder and she prayed for herself. She prayed
for her father and her sister's souls. She prayed and prayed.
In the end, she never knew what had caused her cancer to go into
remission. It was a blessing that she didn't want to question. But
deep down, she had always wondered. She wanted to believe that it was
God who had saved her. But now she realized that even though she had
prayed that day, she still didn't understand God. She didn't have her
faith back.
And because she didn't have that faith, tonight she had no way of
understanding why she was being forced to suffer this loss. Science and
logic, the two things in which her faith had never wavered, could not
explain it either. And that scared her.
But in her heart, she knew there was more. Science and logic weren't
the only objects of her unwavering faith. Mulder was too. There were
times when she believed in him even more than she believed in herself.
He was the constant in her life that would never change, the anchor that
kept her from floating endlessly into a sea of grief and confusion.
When her strength failed, he was there to support her until she could
stand on her own again. He was her strength.
Mulder's words came back to haunt her.
(Let me be the strong one for a change.
And suddenly, she realized where her salvation lay.
***********
Scully moved into the living room quietly, not wanting to wake Mulder up
if he was already asleep. He had had a rough couple of days too, and
Lord knew he didn't get enough sleep as it was. As she tiptoed quietly
towards the sofa, Mulder didn't stir. For a moment, Scully debated
whether or not to just turn around now, but as the prospect of that
empty bed loomed before her, she moved forward. She just wanted to see
him. She wanted to take in his comforting presence and draw the
strength that she needed to make it through the night from him. That's
all. Then she would leave.
When she reached the sofa, she knelt down beside him so that she was eye
level with his face. Before even looking at him closely, she closed her
eyes and breathed in his comforting scent that was so uniquely Mulder.
God, she loved this man. She needed this man. She knew now that she
had made the right decision to come out here. Scully felt tears
pricking at the back of her eyelids at this thought, and she opened her
eyes slowly and got her first good look at Mulder sleeping. He looked
troubled, his mouth drawn into a tight line and his forehead creased.
Before she could stop herself, Scully laid a comforting hand on his
cheek.
Mulder's eyes opened slowly, sleep still clambering for his attention.
But when he saw Scully kneeling in front of him, tears glistening in her
eyes, his full attention was on her. Without shifting at all, he gently
covered the hand lying on his cheek with his own.
"Scully?"
At the sound of his softly spoken voice, Scully's face crumpled. She
just couldn't hold it in any longer.
"I miss my baby girl, Mulder."
Her words came out in a strangled sob, and Mulder felt his heart
breaking piece by piece. Within a second, he was on the floor kneeling
next to her, his arms crushing her to his chest. His hand rubbed her
back in soothing circles as he rocked her back and forth gently. Words
weren't needed, and none were spoken.
After countless minutes, Scully's sobs began to fade and then they
eventually died out completely. Her head remained buried in Mulder's
chest, and his hand now stroked her hair. Their unconscious rocking had
stopped, but neither one seemed to want to leave the security of their
embrace.
Eventually, Scully was the first to break the tight hold they had on
each other. She leaned back a bit, her gaze averted as the inevitable
embarrassment began to settle in. Mulder left one arm around her back
and used his other hand to tilt her chin upwards, waiting until Scully
met his gaze.
"I do too, Scully. I do too."
Her smile was brilliantly painful, an indescribable blend of sadness and
happiness. He understood. He understood perfectly and he felt her loss
too. She wasn't alone anymore.
Mulder tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear, his hand lowering
to caress her cheek. She didn't give voice to her thoughts, but he knew
what she was thinking, what she was feeling. He felt the beginnings of
hope bloom inside her, and he felt her strength begin a slow but steady
resurrection.
"I'm here, Scully. I always have been and I always will be. And I
promise you, we'll get through this together."
Her smile was brighter this time. The shadows of grief still lurked in
her eyes, but her faith in his words was slowly pushing them away. They
both knew that the healing process was going to be a long and painful
road, but they both knew that it was a journey they were going to make
together. And that gave them strength.
This time Mulder was the one to break their interlocked gazes. He rose
to his feet, pulling Scully up with him.
"Scully, I know we need to talk, but I think you need rest more. You're
practically dead on your feet, and you need to get some sleep."
Scully looked at Mulder, and his eyes showed his concern for her. She
gave him a small smile and nodded her head.
"You're right Mulder, we'll talk tomorrow. And we both should be
getting to bed."
As soon as she realized how that sounded, Scully blushed. Her tired
brain told her feet to move, to go back to the bedroom, but
embarrassment and something else, something she couldn't define, held
her rooted to the spot.
Mulder apparently decided to take pity on her and put her out of her
misery, because he grinned down at her.
"You know Scully, I was thinking more along the lines of the couch."
Her startled gaze met his, and his expression became serious.
"I don't know about you, but I'd rather not sleep alone tonight,
Scully."
She knew he was speaking with honesty, but she also understood the gift
that he was silently offering her. He knew that she needed his comfort
to get her through this painful night, but he also knew that her pride
and strength would not allow her to ask. So he made himself vulnerable
to salvage her pride and give her the strength to accept. Before logic
could stop her, her heart made the decision for her.
"Well, I've always wondered how you manage to sleep on that thing all
night and not roll over and fall off. Sometimes I think you've figured
out how to defy the laws of physics."
Scully gave him a tentative smile with her words, her acceptance
implicit. Mulder felt a burst of hope in his heart, and deep down, he
realized that everything would be okay. They were going to weather this
storm too. Scully had made taken the first step in her journey back to
him, and he was going to make sure that she made it safely.
The smile that he gave her was beautiful, full of hope and happiness
that Scully had not seen in a long time.
"Actually Scully, it's an exact science that takes years to perfect.
And you know what they say-practice makes a woman perfect."
Mulder's attempt at political correctness brought a grin to her face,
and he motioned towards the couch with his hand. Scully lowered herself
onto the cushions, facing the pillows with her back turned towards him.
She knew that this was a huge step that they were both taking, and it
frightened her. But she knew that it was time that they moved forward.
Only by moving forward could they come to terms with the past.
As Mulder settled in behind her, Scully slowly felt her fears being
released one by one. The future was scary, but with Mulder by her side,
she welcomed it.
With that thought, Scully's eyes closed peacefully. She felt warmth
settle over her as Mulder pulled a blanket up over both of them. Just
as she began drifting into unconsciousness, she felt Mulder's arm go
around her waist securely. He gently pulled her back into his chest
until he was wrapped around her completely, and his breath tickled her
ear.
"Don't worry, Scully, I won't let you fall."
She fell asleep with a soft smile on her lips.
***********
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