They'd stopped and picked up Chinese take out on the way back to her apartment after apprehending the suspect in Philadelphia. He had thought, a few times during the car ride back, that it was almost as though Maggie Scully hadn't died earlier, and that it was like any other case. The only sign she was showing that the event had, in fact, happened, was that she kept fingering that quarter that she'd put around her neck.
A sigh from her brought him out of his thoughts, as he pulled onto the side street that would lead her to the apartment she escaped to after she left. Yet another thing they were somehow able to pretend had never happened, for the most part. "I think this is the perfect evening for a fire," she mused, still looking out the window, through the streams of rain that were making their way towards the ground. He nodded and bit his tongue. "Tis," he glanced over at her as he pulled into a parking space in front of her building.
He could count on one hand the times he had visited her abode. He consciously avoided it, as he was always reminded of the reason she has it in the first place. It was anticlimactic, her leaving, as there was no fight, no blow ups, no blaming him or anything like that, just an "I can't do this anymore", and she began to pack her bags. They'd talked about their split briefly, after she'd signed the papers for the apartment, but she did everything in her power to assure that it never came up after that.
"Home, sweet home," he mumbled and reached into the back seat for the paper bag full of food. She continued to stare out the window. She then looked over at him with a playful question in her eyes. "Yes, I will build you a fire," he agreed to her unasked question and was rewarded with a full-toothed smile.
Two hours later, they were on their third bottle of wine, of which he had only had three glasses of. They'd been laughing over another joke regarding how they had aged over the past 15 years. She shook her head and looked into the fire. "I think she was happy to see you, in the end," she said and fingered the quarter again. "You were the last person she saw," she whispered.
"And of course she was smiling," he played. She didn't glance at him but continued to stare into the fire as she took yet another sip of her wine. "I have never seen you have more than three sips of wine in all the time that I've known you," he reached his arm out and tapped her shoulder. They were both leaning back against the couch, the fire to her left, coffee table in front of them and covered with take out boxes.
"And I'll be paying for it in the morning," she grinned again. She turned and looked at him, as his hand still lingered on her shoulder. "Mulder," she set her glass on the table and scooted only slightly closer toward him.
He lifted his head in question.
"Do you dream about William?" she asked and tucked her hands between her thighs.
It was his turn to look into the fire.
"Scully, I-"
"You never talk about him. I want to know what you think," she said as he looked back at her. "I mean, about him. Your thoughts. Your dreams. I know you do," she said and brought one hand up to bring his into her lap.
He sighed and once again looked into her eyes. "I… think about him at least fifteen times a day," he said quietly.
She nodded and squeezed his hand. He shook his head and looked down at their hands intertwined. "I just… it seems like a battle I fight between being so angry and resisting the urge to search for him," he once again looked into the fireplace.
"Angry… with me?" she quietly inquired.
He slowly shook his head, not meeting her eyes. "No," he then turned to her. "In general. Mad that I don't know what sports he plays, or what his strengths are academically, what… what color hair he has, or his eyes… Is he tall, Scully? Or athletic? Or does he wear glasses? And is he learning to drive, right now? Somewhere, is someone teaching my son all the things he needs to learn?" He shook his head as his eyes glistened over.
She took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. She slid over to him and put her arms around him, laying into his side. "I dream… that I take him to school. I dream that I tell him that I love him, and that he knows it. That he ignores me after school and runs off with his friends. It always ends badly, but I think about the good parts," she sniffled.
He nodded absently as he rubbed her back without thought. "I do dream about him. We have amazing adventures together. And I always lose him, every time," he leaned down and kissed her forehead through her hair.
"I…. I'm so sorry, Mulder," she sobbed. "You didn't even have a choice," she said, brokenly, as her body was suddenly overcome.
He held her tighter to him. "I'm not angry with you," he said softly into her ear, "And I could never blame you. You…" he swallowed. "You are the mother… of my child. You're the strongest person I know. And I know it eats you from the inside," he held her with both arms as she sobbed openly into him.
She pulled back just enough to look in his face. "You're all I have now," she managed. He slightly chuckled. "Nah, Bill would still kick my ass in a heartbeat," he joked.
She laughed slightly. "Mulder, you're the love of my life," she wiped some of his tears. "Even when you drive me bat shit crazy and I move out. I know you worry about… losing me, to someone else," she held his face as he closed his eyes and cried silently. "But it could never be. I love you," she whispered the last word. She knew how much it meant for her to say that, as she so very rarely ever did. He had always been the one to say it so openly and so often. "And you're my family. My mom loves you like her own, I know she still does," she began crying harder again. He pulled her to him and she was now laying on him. He kissed the side of her face twice and held her tight as they both cried.
"Scully," he sobbed, "Don't ever leave me again," he pulled her face back to look in her eyes. "You're all I've ever had," he kissed her gently and pulled her back into him.
"Mulder lets go to bed," she mumbled into his chest.
"That's not what I meant," he pulled her back. "Especially not today-"
She shook her head. "Just to sleep," she stood up and wiped her eyes. He nodded and stood up. "And I have some of your clothes," she smiled as he looked at her questioningly. "I stole them when I left," she answered and turned back toward the bedroom.
"20 plus years later…. And you still keep me guessing," he said as she walked into the bathroom, handing him a shirt and shorts on her way.