Work Text:
Mulder is on his second glass of whiskey, hating the smell, the taste, and most of all himself. He stares into the gold-colored liquid in front of him, closes his eyes and takes another sip. It burns his throat, makes him feel sick. He doesn’t deserve anything else.
“Is this seat taken?” Mulder turns to the side and toward the source of the question. Dizziness hits him briefly before his eyes focus on his new seatmate.
“Melissa?” he asks, blinking. “Melissa Scully?”
“You remember me,” she says with a bright smile.
“You’re Scully’s sister.” Stating the obvious makes Melissa laugh. How easily she laughs. His own Scully did, too, when he met her. What a year and a half by his side has done to her. Does he even remember the last time he heard her laugh? All he can recall is her crying. Clinging to him, digging her fingers into him hard enough to leave bruises.
“How many of these have you had?” She grabs his glass and takes a sniff. “Strong stuff.”
“I don’t drink much,” he explains. “Usually. I don’t- I don’t drink. I don’t like it. I just-”
“I’m not judging you,” she says, squeezing his arm. Her voice reminds him of her sister. It makes him want to drink more whiskey. “Though I do think that maybe you should stop running.”
“I’m not running,” he says. “I’m sitting down.”
“You know what I mean. Why aren’t you with my sister?”
“Why would I be? She has a life and I…” he doesn’t finish the sentiment, because what does he have? He has fish. Enough guilt to bury himself alive under it.
“You really are like this, aren’t you?” Melissa says, sounding angry. “I thought you were just like that because Dana was missing. But no, you’re this dramatic.”
“Listen, you don’t know my life.”
“No, but I like you. I love my sister and you- I really like you.” He glares at her, trying to understand what she’s saying. “Oh god, don’t look at me like that. I don’t like you in that way,” she clarifies and he relaxes. “You’re not exactly my type, if you get what I mean.” Mulder nods slowly. Scully has hinted at something like that, has mentioned a past girlfriend of Melissa’s in passing.
“You know whose type you are? My sister’s.” Mulder half chokes on his own saliva, coughing loudly. When he doesn’t stop, Melissa pats his back. “You sound surprised.”
“We’re partners.” His voice is hoarse. Forgetting just what is in his glass, he takes a huge sip. “Fuck, I hate this stuff. Your sister and I are partners. Friends.”
“Right,” Melissa says, snapping her fingers loudly. The bartender appears seemingly out of nowhere and leans in close to take her order. Mulder watches, flabbergasted. Maybe he’s had too much to drink after all. Maybe none of this is happening.
“You’re getting a Coke. I’m going to finish this for you.” There’s nothing he can do. Melissa takes his glass and finishes his whiskey. Then she puts her head in her hands and smiles at him. “You do know that my mother is trying to set Dana up with bland, boring men from church, right?” He shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant. Scully hasn’t told him.
“Of course, you don’t know. Dana doesn’t care. She’d not deem it important information but Fox- Mulder, sorry. Some day, one of them might not be as boring. Do you want that?”
“I want her to be happy,” he says, mumbling. The bartender is back with a glass of Coke that he places in front of Mulder. He mouths a thanks. The Coke is weak, but right now, Mulder can’t imagine anything tasting better. “She should move on. I’m causing her nothing but pain. Just look at what has already happened to her.”
“All right, Mr. Super-Important. I’ve known my sister longer than you have. The only reason she doesn’t leave is because she doesn’t want to. I’m not claiming to understand it is what you do. And I hate seeing her hurt in any way. She’s my baby sister. But I know one thing. She loves this job. I’ve seen her eyes light up when she talks about it.”
“It’s putting her in danger,” Mulder says, staring at his Coke. She should go be a doctor, save lives. Not just his, but other people’s. She could have days off, have weekends. Have a real life. One that includes a husband and kids. A dog. He knows she wants a dog. He’s tried ditching her, but somehow, she didn’t stop. She didn’t give him up. She didn’t go running. It worked when he did it before. With Diana. He takes another swig of his Coke, refusing to think about that woman now.
“You’re not the center of the universe, Fox Mulder. She chose a dangerous job. So do plenty of other people. Try telling her you think she’s not cut out for it. I want to see what she does to you.” Melissa grins at him.
“I’m not saying she’s not cut out for it.” Scully is the strongest person he knows. The smartest, too. He can no longer imagine his life without her in it. If he’s honest, he needs her. The wanting her is par for the course. But it’s more than that. How often has she saved his ass? Literally and figuratively.
“You love her.” It’s not a question. He doesn’t look at her, doesn’t react at all. There’s nothing he can say. He can neither deny nor confirm it. “Why are you still here?” Melissa jabs his bicep and he winces, touching the spot.
“What was that for?”
“You’re both ridiculous,” Melissa says. “Go to her.”
“It’s late.”
“Somehow, I feel like that has never stopped you before. Go tell her what you feel before some accountant gets his hooks into Dana.”
“At least she’d be out of danger.” Melissa groans dramatically, leaning against Mulder.
“We all die of something, Mulder. Don’t let Dana die of boredom.” That makes him smile.
“You don’t give up, do you?”
“No. And neither does my sister. Now come on. My date is here. I will call Dana tomorrow and she better have news for me.” She squeezes his shoulder and he watches her walk over to another woman, hugging her. She points back at him and both women glare at him. Mulder accepts his fate, throws some money on the counter and leaves the bar.
It’s not that late and maybe it’s the whiskey that’s still running through his veins, or his fear of Melissa Scully, but when the cab driver asks him where to, he gives him Scully’s address. Less than fifteen minutes later, he’s at her building. The light is on in her living room. He would go home if it wasn’t. At least he thinks he would. The cold air sobers him up. Someone leaves the building and Mulder sprints up the stairs to catch the door. He takes the elevator up, his thoughts racing, trying to make sense of everything that Melissa said to him.
He doesn’t ring the doorbell and knocks instead. His heart threatens to jump out of his chest. The seconds tick by and there’s no Scully. He’s about to knock again when the door opens.
“Mulder?” she asks, genuinely surprised. “What are you doing here?”
He stares at her and even opens his mouth. No words come out. What is he supposed to say? Hey, please quit your job? Hey, I like you more than I should? None of what is in his head makes sense.
“Mulder?” Scully asks again, sounding concerned.
“Hi,” he says, smiling at her, and then everything goes black.