Chapter Text
*CLICK* He pressed the button on the key and the door unlocked.
He froze, standing next to the car he had abandoned when he pulled up outside the bank, and felt the breath leave him all at once. For a second it was as if his lungs had forgotten how to function because for the life of him, he couldn’t draw another to replace it. Then a familiar, feather-light hand on his forearm kickstarted his nervous system.
“Mulder?” Scully was there at his elbow, staring up at him with that concerned look that only she could get away with. And in that moment, he knew he had to tell her the truth, every last bit of it. He needed her to know because he felt like he’d been lying to her for weeks and he couldn’t stand it. He also needed someone to know what he had been through and Scully was his ‘someone’.
“Did you drive here, Scully?”
“No, I was in one of the tactical vehicles.”
As he reached out to hand her the car keys, she knew something was wrong. Mulder loved to drive. She knew it wasn’t that he thought she was a bad driver, he just found being a passenger so boring! She loved the passenger seat, mostly because she loved the view to her left. He would generally keep his eyes on the road, excitedly telling her about whatever was on his mind, glancing over every now and again to gauge her reaction. One hand drumming on the steering wheel, while the other rifled around for snacks. In a weird way she found his endless energy calming.
But there was no sign of that energy now. Now he slipped quietly into the passenger seat and leaned his head on the window. She reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze, avoiding his broken finger. He turned to her with a faint smile, “Will you take me home?”
Her face softened, “Sure, Mulder.” One last squeeze and she withdrew, starting the engine and pulling away from the hustle of the crime scene. He hadn’t said a word since they started driving. She turned on the blinker to change lanes.
*CLICK* He clenched his jaw and dug his nails into the palm of his good hand.
He would be fine once he got back to his apartment. The apartment where Scully had so gently set his finger. The apartment where he had finally been able to ease his conscience and begin to tell her the truth. The apartment where Bremer had been listening, recording the evidence that almost cost him everything … “Actually, Scully,” he could feel the air leaving his chest again, “can we go to yours?” He felt like he was outside his body, hearing himself say words he didn’t realise he was thinking.
“Of course.” She smiled and turned her eyes back to the road. No questions, no debate, just agreement. She was still here. She was still her. His steady ship in the storm. His heart rate slowed and he could breathe again.
She had no idea what he had experienced since she had seen him last, but she could tell the adrenaline was wearing off. She was just glad that they had made it to her apartment before he shut down completely. As he started to take his leather jacket off, she reached behind him to flick on the light.
*CLICK* He swayed on his feet and she reached out a hand to steady him.
He closed his eyes and when he opened them, there she was, looking up at him with her brow furrowed in concern. “I’m okay,” he whispered with a gentle nod. She took a hold of the jacket and he slipped his arms the rest of the way out.
As she draped it over the back of the chair, he took his boots off, placing them neatly by the door in the way he always did to show that he cared more about her home than his own. Then he slumped onto what had, at some stage, become *his* end of the couch. She couldn’t remember when they had fallen into these little domestic patterns, but she knew it had happened without thinking.
“Scully,” he sighed, “I want to tell you everything, but I don’t even know where to start.” He leaned his head back, “I have never been more wired and more tired at the same time.”
“It’s okay, Mulder. Give yourself a break.” She knew he needed a reset. She disappeared into her bedroom and grabbed the go bag that he stashed in her closet, along with a fresh towel. “Why don’t you jump in the shower, and I’ll order us some food?”
She was an expert in knowing exactly what he needed, even when he didn’t know it himself. He mustered a genuine smile as he walked over to where she stood in the doorway of the kitchen, and stilled her with a gentle hand on each of her shoulders. He dipped his head to catch her eye as she looked up at him. “Thank you.”
They stood, eyes locked, ocean blue and forest green, both content to gaze for just a moment longer. He ran his hands down the back of her arms until he had a grasp on the items she was holding.
“Any preferences?” She asked, relinquishing her hold, “How hungry are you?”
He moved towards the bathroom, needing no instruction on where to go or how to adjust the faucet to get the water temperature just right. “Your place, your choice,” he answered over his shoulder. “I trust you, Scully.”
‘Trust’. That word always elicited a response in her. They had grounded themselves in trust and sometimes their faith in one another felt like the only constant thing that either of them had. Truth was Mulder’s currency and she knew he would never have kept her in the dark voluntarily. She let out a breath that she didn’t even realise she had been holding.
“Mulder,” she called as the water started to run, “don’t forget to take off that splint!”
“Thanks, Doc!”
She dialled the pizza place she knew he liked and ordered their ‘usual’, kidding herself that getting extra veggies on her side would make it a healthier choice. It’s not that she was concerned for herself, the real reason she did it was because she knew that half of her side would also end up being his. She had no idea how he could maintain a body like his whilst having a diet like his, but she liked to think her nutritional choices helped.
He stepped into the stream of water and the heat released tension he had been holding for days, but he couldn’t relax. He couldn’t stop hearing that ‘click’. The click of his finger as it snapped, the click of the tape recorder as it gave him away, the click of the gun as it cocked behind him. He felt the panic rising again but he closed his eyes and pushed it away with a singular image. A flash of auburn, azure and alabaster. Soft, steadfast. Scully.
She wished she could wash the day off herself, but she knew Mulder needed the shower more than her. She settled for getting out of her work clothes and into a pair of grey sweats and a fitted blue t-shirt. She scraped her hair back into a ponytail, the usual unruly whisps falling freely around her face. With her skincare routine currently stashed in the bathroom with Mulder, she made do with a washcloth at the kitchen sink. She stood fresh-faced and feeling a little more like herself than she had in days.
She was grabbing her wallet when the door knocked. “Mulder,” she called, “dinner’s here!”
“Coming!”
She took the pizza, thanked the delivery guy and told him to keep the change. As she closed the door, she was suddenly struck by the everyday domesticity of it all. She was at home, in her comfy clothes, calling out to the man in her shower that dinner was ready. This case had been tough, it had been a stark few days, and yet there was something so utterly comforting about the situation she found herself in now.
Her reverie was interrupted by a familiar sound, “Scully?” At the sound of his voice, her brain conjured up its usual image of him, but when she turned to face him, she was hit with a wave of cognitive dissonance. He stood in the doorway of her kitchen in black sweats and a grey t-shirt. He was barefoot and his hair was damp and unruly. He was unequivocally Mulder, but for the briefest of moments he wasn’t her partner anymore. He was just a devastatingly handsome man, standing in her home like he belonged there.
He thought he had seen every version of Scully over the years, but he realised this one was new so when he said her name, it unintentionally came out like a question. As he took stock of her comfortable clothes and pulled back hair he realised he hadn’t ever seen her quite like this, fully relaxed in her own space. On one hand he felt like he had been let in to the Holy of Holies and on the other hand it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
She put the pizza on the coffee table and took the splint from his hand. “I tried to put it on myself,” he said, “but it really hurt so I’m guessing I did it wrong?”
“Well, this kind of complex procedure is best left to the professionals,” she said with a trademark Scully smirk. She held his hand up to her face and examined his finger. She was so tender that his heart ached.
Just a few hours ago, Mulder had watched her square up to a US Attorney when she realised that this whole case had been a set up. Special Agent Dana Scully was an exceptional FBI agent, unflinching in the face of injustice. And now here she was, five feet of freckles in a pair of fluffy socks, the embodiment of softness and light. Their colleagues would never believe that the woman in front of him was the same one they saw raising her voice to Leamus. But they didn’t know her like he did, the breathtaking complexity of her.
His finger looked painful and she did everything she could to check it without causing him any more discomfort. “You should probably have this x-rayed,” She strapped the splint on, “How does that feel?”
“Perfect,” and he meant it, “thanks.”
She was still holding his hand, staring at his finger. He saw her eyes darken and she bit the bottom corner of her lip. “Everything okay, Scully?” Her face lightened, the darkness retreated.
She was furious. At the lowlife who had hurt him, at the terrorist who had given the order, at the men who had sent him into this danger in the first place. When she heard his voice, she tucked those feelings away. Right now, he didn’t her to fight for him, he needed her to care for him.
She gently dropped his hand. “Let’s eat, before it gets cold.”
He went to the fridge to grab drinks and she retrieved some napkins and plates from their respective places. They navigated around each other in the kitchen like they had done it all their lives, a choreography that neither needed to be taught.
He returned to his usual spot on the couch and opened the pizza box. “Ah Scully,” he sighed with a smile, “perfection!” He spun the box so that the half with the veggies was facing her. She realised she couldn’t quite reach from her end of the couch, so she scooted down to sit a little closer.
They ate in comfortable silence, stealing glances every so often, giving a reassuring nod or smile when they caught each other looking at the same time. She almost always finished eating before he did. Normally it was because he would be busy regaling her with stories of swamp monsters or filling her in on the accolades of a baseball player that she’d never heard of, but not tonight.
She could tell that he was processing the events of the day, so she just sat back, legs crossed and leaned her head on the back of the couch. He had polished off his half and was on his second veggie-laden slice when she angled her head to look at him. His furrowed brow told her that he was deep in thought. He was staring straight ahead and she thought he was a million miles away, but then his left hand, splint and all, landed on her knee. She reached down and took his hand in hers and they sat, comfortable in the stillness.
He felt her eyes on him the minute she turned her head. He knew she wasn’t waiting for anything but he wasn’t quite ready. He needed her to know that he was still with her, so he instinctively reached out for her and his hand found her knee. The touch grounded him, though as he felt her fingers wrap around his, he could have sworn there was the flicker of something else.
He turned to face her and he was so exhausted that he debated just telling her everything was fine. But she sat up and looked at him so earnestly that he knew better. She reached forward and set her empty soda can on the table.
*CLICK* At the hollow metal sound, he felt his whole body tense.
She felt it too and squeezed his hand gently, a silent reassurance that she didn’t expect anything from him, that she was simply here.
He was resolute. She needed to know, he needed to tell her … now if he could only find the words to start …