Chapter Text
The drive to the hotel was tense. “Do you want to grab a bite to eat?” Mulder asked gently.
“No thank you,” came the curt response.
“Because if anyone deserves some heart-clogging comfort food, it’s you,” Mulder continued. He realized he was rambling nervously, but couldn’t seem to stop himself.
“I’m not hungry,” Scully replied simply.
“Maybe some fried chicken? Or some pancakes? Pancakes are good comfort food. My mom made the best pancakes—”
“Just stop it, Mulder!” Scully snapped.
The rest of the ride was silent. Mulder had been properly chastised; Scully hunkered down in her seat, staring blankly out the window.
They arrived at the hotel. Mulder had barely put the car into park when Scully jumped out and bolted into the lobby. He rushed to catch up with her.
"Hi, I'd like a room, please. Single. Two nights." Ever pragmatic, Scully was planning on an extra day, just in case it took the police longer to release her apartment as a crime scene.
"I'd like a room, too, please," Mulder told the bored hotel clerk. Scully turned to Mulder, giving him an accusatory look.
"Why?"
"Well, it didn't seem appropriate to stay in the same room with you."
Scully rolled her eyes. "No. I mean, why do you want a hotel room?"
Mulder's mind went blank. Because I'm worried about you didn't seem like a reason she’d take kindly to, but he literally couldn't come up with a less possessive reason, so he gave voice to his thought.
"I'm fine, Mulder," Scully answered brusquely. "The threat has been neutralized. I am not in danger." Her clinical tone, which sounded like she was reading directly from the FBI handbook, did nothing to assuage his fears.
"At least let me walk you to your room," he said, almost begging. Scully retrieved her key card and sighed. "Fine." She grabbed her bag and pushed past him.
All Scully wanted was a bath. A long, hot bath. Pfaster had tried - twice - to steal from her the pleasure she found in a hot bubble bath, and she was determined not to let that happen. At the door to her room, Scully thanked Mulder mechanically and slipped inside. She tried to ignore the disappointed look on his face. This wasn’t about him. This was about her.
All she wanted was a bath.
She tossed her duffel bag on the bed and turned on the TV, some old movie. Something to keep the silence away.
She kicked off her shoes and her sweatpants and grabbed her bag of toiletries. She could imagine the relief as the hot, bubbly water enveloped her. She froze when she got into the bathroom.
There was no bathtub. Shower only.
Scully stared at the offending appliance for a full minute. Dejected, she wandered back into the bedroom. The weight of the evening, which was supposed to be soaked away in the tub, hit her. She wilted onto the bed and sobbed.
At the door to Scully’s room, Mulder tried to tell her he was there if she needed him, all she had to do was call. But he didn’t get a chance. He got a perfunctory “thank you” from Scully before she disappeared into her room.
Mulder was worried about his partner. He knew how guarded she was and he was afraid of what might happen when the dam broke.
He went back downstairs to the front desk and got himself that room he had wanted earlier. The clerk looked a little hesitant to fulfill Mulder’s request, so he flashed his badge. “She is the victim of a crime and I am worried for her safety,” he said by way of explanation. It wasn’t really a lie; more like an embellishment of the truth, but it hit Mulder harder than he expected. Scully had never been the “victim” type; even when she was, technically, a victim. Suddenly he needed that room like he needed his next breath. He wasn’t sure if it was for her or for him, but he didn’t care. Luckily, the clerk seemed satisfied with this and got Mulder the requested room beside Scully’s.
Mulder went into his room and sat down on the bed. He turned on the television, keeping the volume low as he found a basketball game to watch. He couldn’t really concentrate on it, but it was a good distraction. It kept him from wringing his hands and pacing.
He heard a noise and muted the TV. What he originally took as the squeak of sneakers on the basketball court was not coming from the television. It was coming from the room next door. Scully was crying.
Mulder forced himself not to rush next door right away. He didn’t want to be some creepy stalker - Scully had already dealt with enough of those for one lifetime. But the crying didn’t stop. It grew louder, deeper.
Scully was embarrassed when she heard the light knock on the door. She had probably woken up the neighbors with her infantile sobbing. “Sorry,” she called out, wiping her eyes and hoping they would go away.
“Scully?” Mulder’s soft, soothing voice seeped into the room. “Are you okay?”
She didn’t know. She honestly didn’t. But her walls had fallen, and now all she wanted was her best friend to tell her everything was okay.
Scully opened the door and saw her partner standing there. There was no judgement on his face; just concern. She collapsed into him and her sobs resumed. He held her, in much the same way he did six years ago, when Pfaster had come for her the first time.
They stood like that for a long time. Eventually, Scully’s sobs quieted and she pulled away, just enough so that Mulder could look at her. Her blue eyes shimmered with tears, and her cheeks were flushed and sticky. He took her face into his hands, tilted it up so he could look into her eyes. As soon as her eyes met his, she pulled away, shame quickly building her walls back up.
"I'm sorry, Mulder. I’m fine.”
“It’s okay not to be fine, Dana,” he offered. His use of her first name shook her. He did it rarely, and when he did, he was truly concerned for her.
“Is it okay just to ‘be’?”
“Of course.” Mulder tucked her into bed, then sat in a chair beside her. He reached out to stroke her hair, but she flinched, so he forced his hands to rest quietly in his lap.
“You think you can get some sleep?” he asked.
She nodded, suddenly exhausted. She could barely keep her eyes open.
“If you need me, just bang on the wall. I’ll be here faster than a sasquatch chasing an idiot with a video camera.”
She forced a weak smile. “Maybe in the morning we can get some pancakes?”
“Definitely,” he said softly as her eyelids drooped. She was asleep before Mulder could shut the door.