Chapter Text
Two Years Ago
Scully woke up Saturday morning with Mulder’s cold voice still echoing in her head. ”Scully, you’re making this personal. That’s what he’s told her yesterday, before they’d failed to save Cassandra in the train yard. It had felt like a slap in the face when he’d said them, and the pain of the sentiments still felt fresh. She’d put it aside in order to try and help Spender’s mother, but when she’d gotten home in the early hours of the morning, she’d allowed herself to really process what this meant.
Because if Mulder thought that making the X-Files and their relationship personal was a flaw, that would mean, logically, that he did not consider it personal. Which was ridiculous, for any number of reasons. First of all, Mulder’s whole goal in being on the X-Files was to find his sister, which is about as personal of a motivation as you can get. So, Scully decided, that must mean Mulder felt that it was only wrong for her to make it personal, a thought that brought up the same feelings of professional insult she hadn’t felt since the desk debacle. It would seem to indicate that Mulder still did not feel the X-Files belonged as much to her as they did to him, even after every way they’d very personally affected her.
Which lead to the other half of the implication of “making it personal”, that of their relationship. Because last night’s argument about Diana had veered into Scully and Mulder’s personal relationship, and who he trusted, and whose input he valued. And Mulder had criticized her personal attachment, which, on top of being hurtful, was also humiliating. It was also the hardest thing for her to process, because based on the evidence, she thought there was something beyond the professional in their relationship. She’d spent a long time, while laying in bed, recalling all the evidence that he cared for her beyond a professional capacity, and it had been overwhelming.
She’d heard from her mother and sister the way Mulder had fought for her return during the abduction. And she recalled the way he’d behaved for awhile afterwards, doing his best to keep her out of direct danger, even when it interfered with their investigation. And when she’d been taken by Donnie Pfaster and she’d tried to maintain a professional wall and Mulder had broken it down and held her as she cried. Then there was the Modell case - where Mulder fought harder to protect her than he’d fought even for himself. And then there was how Mulder had been there for her while she battled her cancer - it was only through his support she had overcome that disease. He’d spent so much time with her, been her one constant good thing that whole time.
The idea that he didn’t think that was personal made her throat burn.
And then he’d almost kissed her in his hallway, and even once told her he loved her.
All of that seemed incontrovertible evidence he thought of her as more than just a coworker. Add to that the less clear-cut indications - the touches, the looks, the flirting, the jealousy, the late night phone calls and declarations of “one in five billion” and “you’re the only one I trust” - it seemed impossible that she wasn’t anything more to him.
Scully had tossed and turned in bed, trying to rationalize this with his condemnation about making things personal. If he thought that was a flaw, what did that make everything that happened?
A thought that had been nagging at her since their almost-kiss in his hallway came back to her. Scully had been threatening to leave, to move on, and this prompted Mulder to suddenly confess how much she meant to him and to try and kiss her. It was the timing that bothered her. Scully had, of course, acknowledged to herself a long time ago she was in love with her crazy partner, but she had been rather under the impression that although he liked flirting with her, he wasn’t serious in his interest in her like that. But when he thought she was going to leave, he drew her back in with pretty words and the possibility of more - just to never do so again after she agreed to stay.
She discounted the declaration of love - he’d been drugged up in a hospital bed after suffering from exposure and a head injury.
Something about that whole situation, paired with Mulder’s behavior and words from earlier in the night had left Scully feeling manipulated.
She recalled from very early in their partnership when a colleague from her time in the academy had tried to keep a case Mulder wanted in more main-stream investigative channels, and offered to get her moved from the X-Files. Scully had accused Mulder of being territorial, meaning about the case, and he had responded that he was, but had reached out and grabbed her necklace in a way that indicated Mulder was talking about her.
Was it possible that Mulder was so possessive he had been manipulating her all these years to stay?
Her knee-jerk gut reaction was to protest he would never do that. It made her a little sick to think about, and she didn’t want to think of the person she’d viewed as her best friend, someone she loved, as capable of that. But she forced herself to consider the possibility. It wouldn’t even be something he was doing on purpose - it could be saying things that he absolutely meant in the moment and her own feelings allowed her to believe it applied more broadly.
Mulder was an excellent profiler, one of the best the bureau had ever seen. She spent a truly ridiculous amount of time with him, so there’s no question that if he wanted to learn to read her, he could. She’d been attracted to him from the beginning. She could still remember the first time she’d seen him in the basement office, and how she’d had to stop a flush from rising to her cheeks because he was one of the most beautiful men she’d ever seen. Not to mention Mulder knew some of her dating history - it was obvious that she sought validation and affection from authority figures, and although she and Mulder were partners he was still the senior agent in the department. He was always playing games with her - teasing out information to force her to guess the answer, and then validating her when she reached the conclusion to which he was leading her. And over time he’d taken up more and more of her time, until she didn’t have any left for anyone else. He always told her he needed her, so she wanted to be there for him.
She’d thought all of this was just a natural part of their dynamic, but if it was more strategic than that, it would mean she’d been a fool for the past six years.
Scully thought about Mulder’s relationship with Diana, a woman he obviously respected. First, she acknowledged that they didn’t seem to have the same games she and Mulder had - that from what Scully had seen, it seemed as though Mulder - Diana calls him Fox, why is Scully the only one he seems to have an issue with using his given name? - and Diana simply work together. And when push came to shove, it was Scully that Mulder pushed aside.
Scully had considered all of this last night, and decided to sleep on it before making any decisions. But the sun was shining through the window, the clock said she’d slept until after ten, and she had to make a decision about how to go forward.
Scully couldn’t continue to love someone who was going to push her aside. She couldn’t live, as she had been, for a man who knew all the right things to say but didn’t really mean them the way she wanted him to. She had to leave.
This would be a problem. Mulder was relentless, single-minded in his goals. And she’d already determined that he had it in his power to convince her to stay despite her better judgement. So she couldn’t give him a chance to do so. And he had many resources at his disposal - the official FBI resources, and the talents of The Gunmen. She would have to be gone before Mulder could find her, and live off the grid after that. She wouldn’t be able to stay with the FBI if she wanted to do this - otherwise he would be able to pull up FBI records of where to find her. She also wouldn’t be able to visit her mother for a long time, in case he decided to have someone watch there.
It was hard enough to make the decision to leave even without those sacrifices. The idea of living without Mulder was terrifying. He was her constant, someone she’d allowed to become everything to her. Someone she had believed was worth everything she had given up. The idea that everything she was to him amounted to no more than a possession he wanted to keep, and nothing more personal…
Scully finally felt the tears that had been threatening since last night begin to fall. She missed him already just at the thought of leaving, but she was missing a version of him she was no longer sure had ever existed. The version of Mulder she had believed in twenty four hours ago was someone who valued her as a partner in life as well as work, and would find a way to stop the whole world if she needed it - just as she would for him. The one she knew existed today was one who would tell her she was taking things too personally and then run to his ex-girlfriend (which is where he’d been the next time they’d talked).
She let herself cry a little longer, mourning the loss of her Mulder. If he had ever even existed. Maybe what she was really mourning was a ghost - a phantom imagining she’d only wanted to see. After awhile, though, she forced herself to sit up and pull together to make a plan.
If Scully wanted to leave and make sure Mulder couldn’t do what he does best - make her believe in things that aren’t there - then she would have to make sure he couldn’t find her. First, she’d pack her apartment and move it into a moving truck. She’d have to cash out her bank accounts to make sure she had access to money that the FBI and the gunmen couldn’t track. She’d have to call her mom and let her know what she was going to do, and get a new phone number. She’d have to turn her resignation in to Skinner. She’d sell her car, and just drive the moving truck until she found a place to settle down.
She sniffled once more, and then put her plan into action.
The packing was time consuming, and depressing, and frustrating. It took most of Saturday. She took the opportunity to let her landlord know she would be terminating the lease. She also picked up the moving truck she would be using, paying in cash for it and wearing a hoodie and sunglasses so she couldn’t be easily identified in any security camera footage. If Mulder involved the Gunmen in a search for her, it was better she be over-cautious in her efforts to avoid detection. Those guys could find anyone, anywhere.
Saturday night, Scully called her mother and let her know what she was planning, and that it might be awhile before Scully got in touch again. Maggie didn’t understand what had happened (Scully suspected her mother had always hoped Mulder would one day be a son-in-law) but, understanding that Scully wasn’t yet willing to open up about it, ended up mostly just assuring her daughter that she would be there if she was needed.
Sunday morning Scully loaded up the truck and found a place to sell her car for cash. Afterwards, she went back to her apartment one more time. Just in case, she left an envelope in the middle of the entry way addressed to Mulder.
She spent the night in a crappy motel and tried not to think about how she had wanted to spend the rest of her life in places just like this, with him by her side or on the other side of the wall.
She woke up early on Monday, having not gotten a lot of sleep. She was grateful that perhaps the only person who worked longer hours than Mulder was their boss. When she got to Skinner’s office, even his secretary had yet to report for the day - which made sense, as it was about 5:30 in the morning. She knocked on Skinner’s door.
“Come in,” he called, and Scully hesitantly entered. “Agent Scully?” he asked, glancing in surprise at the clock. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m here to tender my resignation, sir. Effective immediately.” Skinner’s eyebrows shot up farther than she would have thought possible.
“Scully, I know the events of last week were hard, but I’d ask you take some time to think about this. The deaths of Cassandra and the others was unfortunate, and I know you want to return to the X-Files, but we’d be losing a valuable asset if you left.”
“Sir, I’m leaving for personal reasons.” Scully didn’t elaborate and Skinner watched her for a moment, weighing this development.
“I see,” he said, finally. “I can’t say I’m happy to see you go.”
“I’m sorry about that,” she said, and meant it. Skinner had done a lot for both her and Mulder over the years, often putting his job and life on the line to defend them.
“Do you need help?” he asked, giving her a meaningful look. She shook her head.
“No, sir.” Scully considered telling him that she was moving, but that would raise more questions.
“Alright. Well, the bureau will welcome you back if you change your mind. And if you ever need anything, reach out.”
“Thank you. You’ve been a good friend to us. I’ll always remember that.” Walter smiled grimly and reached across the desk to shake her hand.
And then Scully left.