Work Text:
December 31, 2002
Somewhere in Montana
11:15 p.m.
Mulder walked inside, shivering as he closed the door with his foot, his arms full of firewood. What had started as a simple task, for which he had not worn his coat, quickly became a “never do that again” moment. The snow had covered the stack of wood and while he had debated walking back to the house, he decided instead to push through.
Without a coat or gloves. Scully would be after him for that decision.
If she was awake, anyway.
Two weeks in the little cabin, two trips into the small town, and she had picked up a bug. Fever, cough, sore throat, body aches… she had it all. She had been in bed for two days, the medicine helping her sleep, the humidifier he had driven to a larger town to find running day and night.
Shivering again as he stacked the wood, the pile full enough for the next couple of days, he stood by the fire and warmed himself. The small television was on, showing Times Square and the people celebrating the quickly approaching new year, well for those not on the East Coast, knowing it had already come and gone in New York. He shook his head at the thought of freezing as he stood in such a large crowd, all to watch a giant ball drop.
But then, he smiled as he thought of New Year’s Eve in a hospital, watching the ball drop, bringing in the new millennium.
“Well, not exactly the millennium,” he said with a smile, glancing at the bedroom door, remembering Scully correctly stating that the new millennium did not officially start until 2001.
Shaking his head, he moved away from the fire, his body now warm and walked to the bedroom. Opening the door quietly, he heard her breathing, her mouth open, the blankets wrapped around her. Smiling again, he closed the door and went into the kitchen to make something to eat.
Deciding on toast and eggs, he scrambled them up quickly and ate them at the small two person table in the kitchen, reading the local paper. Getting up, he brought his dishes to the sink and turned on the water. Waiting for it to warm up, he placed a pot on the stove beside a can of chicken noodle soup for Scully if she were to wake up soon and want something to eat.
As he washed the dishes, he heard a cough and turned his head to see her standing behind him, the thick blanket wrapped around her. Hair messy, nose red, and mouth open to breathe better, she looked adorable, but he knew she would vehemently disagree if he said so out loud.
“What are you doing up?” he asked, rinsing his last dish and turning off the water. She coughed again and moaned.
He smiled and walked over to her, wrapping her in an embrace. She moaned again, her head on his chest. Even through the two shirts he wore, he could feel the heat she was emanating. Kissing the top of her head, he pulled back and looked at her.
“You’re hot.”
“Thank you,” she rasped, her eyes closed, mouth still open. Her breath was bad, but again he was smart enough to keep that comment to himself.
“You’re welcome,” he said with a chuckle. “Though that’s not what I meant.” He pressed his lips to her forehead and the heat was even greater. “I’m going to get the thermometer and the medicine. I’m sure you’re due for more.”
“Such a smooth talker,” she mumbled, her eyes opening slowly. She moaned again and sighed. He held his breath, her own truly awful.
“Come on. Let’s get you back to bed.” He started to guide her and she stopped him.
“No. I wanted to be here for the… the…” She gestured to the television and sighed again.
“The ball drop?”
“Hmm…” She nodded and closed her eyes again. “If that’s what it’s called.” He laughed softly and she whined with a cough.
“Okay, to the couch then. Come on.” He guided her over, helping her get situated before he went to get her some water, the medicines and the thermometer.
Bringing it all back to her, he put the thermometer into her mouth and opened the bottles of medicine. She kept her eyes closed as she waited for the temperature to register.
“One hundred… and two, almost three,” he said, taking it from her mouth and reading it. “That’s hot.”
“As you’ve already said,” she groaned, coughing and sighing deeply. He chuckled again and she opened her eyes. “I feel so terrible.”
“I know. Here take these.” He handed her some ibuprofen, and then some NyQuil. She took the pills and drank the liquid, making a face and reaching for the water he was ready to hand her.
“So disgusting,” she complained, shaking her head and taking another drink of water.
“How about this?” He held out a small candy cane and she smiled, taking it from him in exchange for her glass of water.
“I know. My breath is bad,” she said, opening the candy cane and putting it into her mouth.
“What? That’s not…” He shook his head and gave her what he hoped passed for an honest confused look.
“Mulder, I can taste it. I know it must smell just as bad.” She stared at him and he shrugged. “When you’re inevitably sick with this cold, I’ll be sure we still have a stock of candy canes on hand.”
“Good plan,” he said with a smile. She nodded and then groaned with a whine.
“Are you hungry? I could make you some soup…”
“No, just sit with me. Let’s bring in the new year together.” He nodded and picked up the stuff from the coffee table, grabbed a box of tissues, and joined her on the couch.
She laid down, wrapped in her blanket cocoon, her head on the pillow beside his leg. He ran his fingers through her hair as she sighed. Her head was so warm and he shook his head.
“How high of a temperature can you have before it would be necessary to go to the hospital?”
“Mulder, I’m fine, as long as the medicine is bringing it down. It’s just a cold.” She hummed as he scratched at her scalp and he smiled.
“I’m going to make sure to remind you of that.” She hummed again and they were both quiet, only the sounds of the television and the crackling fire filling the room.
“Have you ever wanted to go to Times Square...” She coughed and blew her nose with a tissue from the box he had placed on the floor. “For the holiday I mean? Not just in general.”
“Nah. I used to have a friend who lived close by there and every holiday he came back to his parents on the Vineyard to avoid the crowds of people.”
“Ohhh, poor guy forced to run to the Vineyard,” she scoffed with a groan. He laughed and nodded, moving his hand to her shoulder and rubbing her arm.
Quiet again, he thought she had fallen asleep, until he heard her crunching on the candy cane in her mouth. He smiled as she groaned loudly and sat up suddenly.
“God, I’m hot,” she said, unwrapping the blanket from around her and standing up unsteadily, kicking it off and laying back down.
“Better?”
“Mmhmm,” she hummed, rubbing his shin and then tucking her hand under the pillow.
“You know, we don’t have to watch this. We could just go to bed.”
“Mmm,” she groaned in disagreement and he chuckled.
“Okay.”
“I mean, I ate that candy cane. In preparation for… for…” She yawned and coughed, moaning and whining.
“Come on, honey. Let’s go to bed.” He shut the television off and the room was lit mainly by the low burning fire.
“No… we only have ten minutes. I can…” She coughed, unable to stop until he helped her sit up and she worked at catching her breath. She looked at him, her expression miserable, and he smiled softly as he rubbed her back.“Fine, let’s go to bed.”
They stood up and he held her face in his hands, staring into her eyes.
“You feel cooler. That’s good.” She nodded and closed her eyes, holding onto his forearms. “It’s technically already the new year where we’re from, so…” She opened her eyes, glassy and medicated, and nodded again with a sigh.
“I’m tired.”
“I know. Happy early New Year.”
“Hmm. You too.”
He kissed her softly and she kissed him back, leaning into him heavily as they parted. He wrapped his arms around her and they swayed in place. She coughed and he smiled, putting an arm around her shoulders, he led her to the bedroom.
Coming back to the living room, he used the old ashes in the bucket from their last fire and put out the current one. He turned out the lights and picked up the blanket she discarded. Refilling her glass of water, he went back into the bedroom.
He set the glass on the bedside table, covered her with the blanket, and checked the humidifier. Refilling it, he got into bed beside her, and she snuggled closer, the hand on his chest clasping tightly to a tissue. His watch beeped and he smiled.
“Yay, we made it,” she slurred and he held her tightly as he kissed the top of her head.
“We did. Now sleep, Scully.”
“Hmm,” she hummed and then coughed.
It was quiet as he rubbed her back and waited for her to fall asleep, hoping it would be soon so she could get some rest.
“The candy cane didn’t help much did it?” she mumbled, smacking her lips, and making disgusted noises. He laughed and nuzzled against her head.
“Not entirely.”
“Hmm,” she agreed, coughing and then blowing her nose. “Goodnight. Happy once more that the world didn’t end.”
“Me too,” he chuckled. “Sleep, honey.” She hummed again and was asleep within minutes.
When he woke up the next morning, his throat sore and body aching, she kissed his forehead and stumbled from the bed to get the medicine and a glass of water. Groaning as he took the medicine, they laid down and went back to sleep.
The new year was put on hold in that small cabin in Montana, as the humidifier hummed quietly in the corner, and heavy snow began to fall silently outside.