Chapter Text
The motel room was small, dimly lit, and smelled faintly of damp carpet and stale coffee. Rain tapped against the window, a steady percussion in the heavy silence that had settled between them like a third presence.
Mulder paced near the foot of the bed, jaw tight, hands raking through his already disheveled hair. Scully sat stiffly on the edge of the mattress, arms crossed, still in her rain-soaked trench coat. Neither of them spoke for a long time, but the tension in the air was electric—static waiting for a spark.
“You should have waited for backup,” Scully said finally, her voice clipped.
Mulder let out a sharp breath, not even turning to look at her. “Oh, that’s rich coming from you. You’re the one who ran straight into a warehouse full of armed men with nothing but your badge and your stubbornness.”
Her jaw clenched. “I had a plan.”
“You had a death wish,” he shot back. “Jesus, Scully, do you even—”
“I was trying to keep you from getting killed!”
Mulder whirled around, eyes flashing. “Yeah? Well, congratulations, Scully. You almost got yourself killed instead.”
She stood up abruptly, her hands balled into fists. “And what was your plan, Mulder? To charge in headfirst, guns blazing, and hope they all just surrendered out of sheer admiration for your reckless heroism?”
He scoffed. “Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot I was talking to the queen of rational decisions, the same person who got herself taken hostage by a lunatic last month because she thought she could ‘de-escalate’ the situation.”
Her eyes darkened, and something in her posture shifted from defensive to dangerous. “I thought you of all people would understand why I did that.”
He did. Of course, he did. But the adrenaline was still buzzing under his skin, mixing with the fear that hadn’t quite let go of his spine. Fear for her. Fear of what could’ve happened if she had been half a second slower. If the bullet had hit two inches higher. If he had found her body instead of her standing there, alive, furious, and stubborn as ever.
“I understand,” he admitted, voice lower now, but no less tense. “I just don’t know if I can watch you do that again.”
Her throat tightened. She looked away. “Then maybe you shouldn’t watch.”
The words landed like a slap, and she knew it the second they left her mouth. His expression shifted—just for a moment—like she had reached in and ripped something out of him before he could stop her.
Silence.
The only sound was the rain, tapping against the glass like an impatient reminder that time was still moving, even if they were frozen in this moment, staring at each other like strangers.
Mulder swallowed hard, nodding once. “Right.” His voice was unreadable.
He turned, grabbed his coat from the chair, and walked out the door without another word.
Scully didn’t move. She didn’t call after him. She just stood there, arms wrapped around herself, staring at the closed door like it had taken something from her, something she hadn’t even realized she was holding.
She exhaled shakily, pressing her fingers to her temple.
Outside, she heard the low rumble of Mulder’s footsteps disappearing into the rain.
And for the first time in a long time, she felt alone.