Classification: MSR, angst, Mulder POV
Disclaimer: These stories I write are just scripts for my action figures, nothing more. The real Mulder and Scully belong to CC, 1013, David, and Gillian.
Spoilers: This is a post-finale, so anything from season 9 goes.
Archive: If you want it, it’s yours. Just please let me know so I can come visit.
Feedback: I live for it.
Thanks: To my beta, the wonderful Robin, who not only clears up my sentences, but my often-muddled mind as well. And to the lovely Circe for giving my fic a home.
* * * *
“How long has it been?”
She asked me that one day, not long after we’d left. I silently calculated the days that has passed and came up with a rough estimate.
“It’s been at least two weeks, don’t you think?”
She turned her head and absently stared out the window, nodding her head slightly in agreement. I didn’t know what else to say, so I shifted the Blazer into 5th gear and kept driving. At almost 4 o’clock, I was hungry. And she hadn’t eaten at all today. She hadn’t said more than two sentences in the last few days, hardly letting anything but an empty, tired expression show on her face as we headed towards the unknown.
I think we both breathed a sigh of relief when the sign announcing we had reached the city limits passed by on the right. Attica, Kansas. It wasn’t the first small town we had decided to stop in and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.
I used to dread the dingy motels and sub-standard cafe food while on a case. Now, they were a welcome reprieve from greasy burgers and cramped seats of the SUV that had become our temporary home. Maybe they’d have peach pie somewhere nearby. It’s one of her favorites, though she seldom allowed herself to indulge in its grams of fat and carbohydrates. Maybe she’d hum in satisfaction as she took the first bite and felt the warm, sugary fruit assault her taste buds; maybe a smile would creep onto her lips as they hugged the fork and cleaned the
remaining crumbs from each tine.
I saw a park to the left as we drove down the block-long section of downtown. Twilight was descending and the small recreation area was bustling with families packing up their picnics and finishing games of basketball and Frisbee. A few lamp posts lit the winding path that dissected the land, leading to a rickety old gazebo in the far right corner. Tiny white lights glowed atop the old structure’s roof and put out a warm, inviting glow.
After we checked into the only hotel on Main Street, maybe we’d get that peach pie to go and wander over to that corner of the park. Maybe I’d wrap my arms around her and we’d try to concentrate on the here and now. Just for a tonight we needed the break; we deserved a moment away.
After all, I didn’t know where we were going or what we were going to do any more than she did.
* * *
I climbed quietly into bed, doing my best to huddle under the covers with as little movement as possible. The down comforter provided me with an instant cocoon of warmth and my body relaxed with a tired sigh. I rolled my head to the right and was glad to see she remained asleep, undisturbed by my late-night entrance. She was on her side, facing me, with one hand resting on the pillow near her cheek. I reached a hand over and tucked an errant strand of her strawberry blonde hair back behind her ear. She stirred awake immediately.
“Hey,” she smiled sleepily.
“Hey, baby,” I said.
“What time is it?”
“Almost 3 A.M.”
“You’re going to be exhausted tomorrow.”
“Yeah, well, at least we’re all ready to go.”
“I’ll drive and you can sleep for the first few hours, ‘kay?”
“Okay,” I agreed and leaned over, kissing her lightly on the lips.
She turned her body completely around until her back was to me. I took her silent cue and inched over until I could wrap my arms around her from behind in a tight embrace. She held my hands to her body fiercely and moved one leg back to nestle between mine.
My body was drained, but my mind was racing and my eyes refused to close. The decision to leave was a difficult one, but we had been here too long and paranoia was setting in. I had long since come to terms with my complete lack of trust in others, but I was still mourning the loss of hers. I never wanted it. Though I loved the woman I held in my arms more than my own life, she was merely a shell of who she used to be. It happened so fast, I couldn’t stop it. I was blind to it and my level of guilt has increased tenfold because of it.
“Mulder, stop it.”
Her voice startled me from my self-deprecating reverie. Somehow, she always knew when I was beating myself up, whether it be about moving away again or forgetting to pick up the juice she wanted at the store.
“How long has it been?” she asked me then.
She hadn’t asked me that in a long time. In fact, it was the first time in months that we even spoke of ‘it’.
“Six months next week,” I said.
She nodded and said nothing more, and I could feel her struggling to fall asleep again. Thankfully, it wasn’t long before her breathing evened and her body relaxed and I knew she had found some semblance of slumber.
I closed my eyes, too, and tried to get some rest. It was only a few hours until we had to rise and start the next leg of our new life. Bozeman, Montana had been good to us, but we had to leave before we got any more comfortable than we already were.
* * *
She cried a lot these days. She rarely did it in front of me, but I could always tell because all the Visine in the world wouldn’t take away all the redness or puffiness from her eyes. More often than not, her body language told me not to ask what was wrong and I know she appreciated being allowed her privacy.
I was going to stick my big nose (pun intended) in it today, though, and I didn’t care what she had to say about it. She was gone when I woke up at eight and nearly three hours later, she still hadn’t come back. I was about to go look for her when I heard the crunch of gravel under her tires as she drove up to the house.
I pulled back the curtains of the kitchen window and watched her as she sat in the car, making no move to leave the safety of the small space. Even from where I stood, I could see tears sliding down her face. I felt my own eyes sting as I watched, felt my heart breaking right alongside hers as the realization hit me again today.
Today was his birthday.
Instead of wrapping new toys, blowing up balloons, and hanging streamers, reveling in the celebration of our son’s first year of life, we were alone together, haunted my the images of separation, sacrifices, and goodbyes. Hailey, Idaho was a good 2,300 miles from DC, but it would never be far enough to forget. Nowhere would be far enough. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what he would look like now. My son would always be that three-day-old baby I left so long ago.
I walked out to her and stood at the driver’s side door and knocked lightly on the window. She looked up to me and her eyes spoke volumes, told me the story of her hurt and her pain. I reached over and slowly opened the door and she immediately flew out and into my arms. She sobbed into my neck, her little body convulsing against me. I rocked her gently and whispered nonsensical words into her ear and it seemed like hours before she stopped, her
energy drained. She pulled back slightly and looked up at me with tired eyes.
“How long has it been?” she asked, choking slightly on the words.
“Please, just say it. I need you to say it,” she said, tears once again springing in her blue eyes.
I stared down at her for several long minutes, willing her sorrow away. I projected images of love and happiness in hopes that her subconscious would grab onto them. She needed the reassurance and, if only for a moment, the distraction.
“How long has it been, Mulder?” she asked again.
I pulled her close to me again and rested my chin on her head. Her arms wrapped around my torso and her hands grabbed at the cloth of my shirt, holding onto me for dear life.
“Too long,” I said.
* * *
She liked Bremerton from the moment we arrived. It wasn’t a small town, but it felt as such, and you couldn’t beat the view we had from our back porch. We were right on the shoreline, on Washington’s Puget Sound, and a long, stretching view of the bay was more than we could have asked for.
That’s where I found her one evening, reclining on a chaise and watching the water, the sky glowing orange and pink as the sun set behind us. She finished the last of her iced tea as I sat down next to her and breathed out a long sigh.
“Long day?” she asked.
“Very long day,” I confirmed.
“Hungry?” she asked.
“Nah. I grabbed something on the way –”
When I turned to look at her, I quickly realized she wasn’t referring to dinner. The look in her eyes was almost predatory and there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that she only wanted me for my body right now.
The stupid grin on my face displayed my willingness to comply.
She crawled over to me slowly, like a cat slinking to its prey. Her lavender sun dress rode high on her thighs as she swung one leg over me and straddled my hips. A sweep of my hands up those thighs revealed that she was wearing nothing under the thin garment and my hips bucked beneath her in response. She raised herself slightly, just enough to reach her hand down to palm the ever increasing swell of my crotch. She unzipped my jeans and pulled out my erection in one fluid motion, her tiny, yet firm hands stroking me along at an agonizing pace while brushing the tip of my penis along the warm, inviting expanse of her opening. I was already so close and was about to still her hips when she suddenly dropped down on top of me until I was completely sheathed inside of her. I instinctively grabbed onto her hips and encouraged her to move, throwing my head back when she finally began to rock from side to side.
I wanted to hold out longer, but I felt my release building quickly. She must have felt it because her hips started to move faster and her hand went down to help her own climax along. I pushed her hand aside and circled my thumb quickly around her clit as her arms fell back to rest her hands on my thighs. Our hips moved together and our beings coexisted, a perfect union of body and soul.
“Mulder…how long has it been?” she asked me between breaths, raising herself up to look at me again.
I just needed a few more strokes. I rubbed at her clit with fervor and sent her over the edge first, the spasm of her internal muscles around me bringing me to my own orgasm just seconds later. She went limp atop me and I gently rolled our bodies until we lay on our sides, facing each other.
“Mulder…” she prompted me again.
“No, Scully,” I said, wiping a bead of sweat off her brow. “Not anymore. Stop doing this.”
“How long?” she asked, ignoring my plea.
“It’s been so long, I’ve forgotten what he looks like,” I said.
She nodded her head and leaned her head into me. Our lips brushed against each other softly, and I tasted the saltiness of her tears. Or maybe they were mine. I couldn’t tell anymore.
* * *
I truly enjoyed working at the nursery. It agreed with every part of me. The pansies, the hollyhocks, the nasturtiums, and the sunflowers, the jasmine and lavender, the mint and the thyme; all were a source of relaxation that never once occurred to me in the past.
That relaxation was long pushed aside, though, as I raced my truck the short distance home. ‘I need you to come home, Mulder,’ she had said on the phone. ‘Now.’ The tremble in her voice scared the shit out of me and I barely told anyone I was leaving work before charging out and barreling out of the parking lot.
I usually enjoyed the wooded, winding roads of Felton, but today they were a source of great irritation. We were nestled in California’s Santa Cruz Mountains and this was the road we often took when driving the ten or so miles down to the beach. In all those trips, I never noticed how aggravatingly slow one had to take each twist and turn.
I finally reached the house, running inside at a record speed. I almost ran straight into her as she stood in the middle of the living room wearing a frightened visage.
“What?” I demanded, grabbing her shoulders. “What’s wrong, Scully?”
She slowly raised her head to look me in the eye and I was startled at the huge mix of emotions I saw before me. Her brow was slightly furrowed, confusion and uncertainty etched on her features.
“I can’t explain it,” she started. “I never thought…”
“What happened?” I asked, unable to keep my voice from sounding frantic.
“How long has it been?”
“Please, just answer me,” she said.
My jaw clenched and my hands balled into tight fists as I heard the words in my head before I spoke them aloud.
“It’s been so long, I don’t even remember that I had a son.”
“Mulder,” she said. “I’m pregnant.”
Stunned doesn’t even begin to cover what I felt. I thought maybe I’d misheard. I thought maybe I’d misunderstood. I thought maybe I’d gone insane. I thought maybe she’d gone insane.
“Are you sure?” I croaked out.
“I took the test three times,” she said. “I’m pretty sure.”
“What does this mean, Mulder?” she asked, her small voice drenched with worry.
I didn’t know what to tell her. I had no idea what it meant or what it would bring. I once believed in the impossible and while that part of me wasn’t dead, it hadn’t been exercised in a very long time. Cynicism and doubt had invaded and conquered, but now, in one moment, part of me once again believed that miracles did happen.
“It means absolutely anything is possible, Scully, and that we truly have a fighting chance.”
And together, we did.