I hate and I love. Why do I do this, you ask?
I do not know. But, I feel it is happening, and I am tormented.
-Catullus
He was not sure how long he'd been sitting there, staring into lonely abyss with the heavy feeling in his gut that he had lost something forever. Time had no limit to his agony.
But, when the phone rang, he admittedly was thankful for the distraction.
It was obvious to him who was calling, not only because she was the only one who cared for him, but because they'd always had a knack for sensing distress in the other. In fact, he was so sure it was her that he didn't even answer, he simply sighed in the phone.
"Mulder, it's me," she says gently, almost exhausted.
There was something different about her these days, not only from the soft, crackly whine of her voice, but also from the utter look of distance in her eyes. Between the pair, she had always been higher in regard to mental function, and her sharp wit was still intact, yet…something was off. A certain gleam and ferocity that used to shine in her eyes seemed to have faded long ago, and it bothered him more than he wanted. Perhaps life had finally caught up to her in the short absence that she'd left him.
Maybe his assumptions stemmed from her finally being at peace with herself without him…
Maybe what he assumed to be exhaustion was actually a tranquility she'd never had the luxury of while he was fully present in her life.
After all, when she'd left, the only thing he felt more than his own helplessness, was joy that she had finally chosen her own happiness instead.
"Mulder…are you there?" she prompts again, more softly.
"…Yeah, Scully. Sorry. Get poor reception out here," he murmured as a cover.
"Are you busy?" she asked, breathless.
"No, no, I'm not," he said promptly, excited for any excuse to be near her.
"Is it all right with you if I come over?" she asked with hesitation in her voice.
There was something so pitiful in her plea that it made his voice crack.
"Yes," he squawked.
"Okay."
When she finally entered the threshold, he turned slightly from the kitchen table to smile at her, and waited as she locked the door and then sat down in front of him.
There it was again…that fragile, overly exhausted air that seemed to follow her like a plague these days. It had been so long since they had been in constant company together, that he realized it took everything he had to read her emotions. Long ago, they'd been professionals with one another in regard to emotional intelligence, but now he realized that it was much more difficult.
It bothered him deeply. It was one more thing they had not tended to, and allowed to whither away in laziness.
As she attempted to smile in response to his careful gaze, he noticed the faint wrinkles crease at her eyes, and for a moment was almost taken with her beauty. She had aged like a fine wine…at least some things never changed.
"What are you thinking, Mulder?" she nearly choked, and he can hear her voice shake.
"A lot of things," he replied with a simple smile, but it was far from genuine.
Long ago, he would have told her the truth: that he was taken with her, and that he missed her, and that most of all, he was afraid to be near her, for fear that she may decide once and for all to leave for good. Nowadays, she terrified him as a complete stranger, with nothing but old memories to evoke the sense of kinship.
After a moment of staring at one another, she looked away, gulped, and then took a deep breath.
"Mulder, I came-"
"-I know why you came," he interrupts, and smiles painfully. Something about it was so heartbreaking that it almost brought a tear to her eye.
"This is…hard for me, as you know. I'm not accustomed to making my emotions known. But…Mulder…all these years…I need to talk about it," she finally stammered, and the tears already began to fall.
The tables had turned in their absence.
It was something else he had noticed today, outside the hospital: she had been the one to bring up a sensitive topic, not the other way around. Finally, it was her who craved him as a source of comfort. Long ago, the conversation would have been prompted by him multiple times, only to be denied by her, until she finally broke down.
Now, however, her eagerness to talk about everything made him sick to his stomach. After all these years of hoping for exactly this, he realized that it made him ache for her wellbeing more: her spirit, the way he'd once known it, had been destroyed.
It sent him into denial, just as it had earlier today. When she'd initiated a conversation about…him…today, he'd addressed it simply, and then moved on. Nothing more than an admittance that it was part of their shared past, and he did his best to make it clear he'd moved on.
Obviously it was a lie, but he was willing to lie and keep his thoughts to himself. He'd much rather keep William's memory private: no matter what, he would never get his son back, so why should he risk getting Scully back when she was still attainable? He had at least learned that through rigorous therapy.
"Set easily attainable goals Fox, something you can work on everyday."
Translation: stop chasing the impossible.
He had no one…he was not about to risk loneliness again. Not from her…not anymore.
"I know it's hard, but we've moved on Scully," he does his best to shrug it off as he did today.
Of course, he's lying through his teeth. If he told her the truth, they would never recover, and so he does his best to stifle his actual emotions.
"I know…I just…can't get him out of my mind lately," she admits pathetically.
"It's understandable," he murmurs, wanting nothing more than to end this talk and get things back to the way they once were. A look of confusion almost painted her features, but it quickly faded as she thought further.
"I had so many dreams for him, Mulder. Taking him to school, taking care of him…not…not any of this… at all. Do you ever think about it?" she asked, desperate for empathy.
"Sometimes," he admitted bitterly, after he swallowed hard. It was difficult for him to be her rock; for such a long time, she refused to let him have that power, and yet here she sat in front of him like a weak suppliant, begging for him to make it better.
It suddenly annoyed him for some reason.
"What are they…if you don't mind me asking?" she asked, so sweetly, so optimistically for a futile dream.
"…It doesn't matter," he finally spoke, after a long silence.
It sparked a flash of indigence on her face like she'd been burned. For a moment, her eyes pierced him, and he felt the pain, before she got control again, and then scoffed.
"It doesn't matter? Who are you…" she whispered, like tiny little daggers cut through his being.
"…Scully-"
"How is it that you can act so smug and indifferent when I'm clearly asking for some depth here…how can you be this emotionally unavailable when I need you most?" she cuts through him again, voice increased in volume.
"How is it that you left me when I needed you most?" he accused, now angry as well.
Neither of them was sure how this occurred so quickly. On queue, her face softened from guilt.
"I didn't come here to argue with you Mulder-" she tried to soothe.
"-No. You obviously can't take a hint, and you don't respect my wishes, so let's talk about it, now that you're ready Scully," he began, worked up.
"Excuse me?" she begged, completely offended, but more confused than anything.
"I'm pissed off, because I've been waiting 14 years to have this conversation. All the times I asked you, for you to ignore me in return. And you think you can call the shots now again, is that it?" he pressed.
"Mulder, I'm not calling any shots. I've just…I've changed so much and, I just thought-"
He isn't sure how long his blood has boiled, but he feels it hot under his skin.
"I resent you! I resent that you failed our son, and I resent that you failed me when I needed you most!" he voice boomed, eyes wild.
There it was, the admission that broke her in two.
"I did fail him…I know this. Do you think it suddenly means more now that you've said it?" she spat, obviously irate, but more hurt than anything. The admission of guilt in her eyes prevents him from fearing her wrath.
"It's been made pretty damn clear on multiple occasions that I don't matter, so I'm sure it doesn't mean any more by now," he scoffed bitterly.
"This pathetic, self-loathing is what drove us apart…" she choked, more angry than before, as she felt herself build a stamina against him.
"Excuse me for self-loathing when I've lost everything! My life's work, my family, my son…the reason I've avoided this for so long is because I thought maybe I could at least keep a part of you! And now that's about to be fucked too…" he ranted, and then stopped, as he felt the end of the end on the horizon.
He doesn't know if he should be scared, or relieved.
"You weren't left pregnant and alone, only to return at the end. And then, when I needed you most, you failed me! To know I had to give my son…our son…away, when he had two perfectly capable parents…it never fails to make me sick to my stomach," she finally exploded, and looked ill.
"We should have tried to take care of him, and we gave up before it got too difficult," he admitted, and he could tell it broke her.
"Are you blaming me?" she pressed, tears spilling over.
"Logically I know better, but inside, I hate that you did that. I've never been able to feel the same."
"You're blaming me…" she wept openly.
"I'm more bitter now, because you left me. You left when I had nothing!" he began to accuse again. He had a bad habit of latching onto one thing, and beating it into the ground.
"Do you know what you looked like every day, Mulder? Do you even remember? You hadn't showered or left that damn bed for over a week. You smelled of feces and urine, you hadn't shaved in months, and you gave up! There was nothing I could do, no matter how much it broke me to watch you self destruct…you wouldn't let me help you-"
"-so why did you leave?" he spat in a whisper.
"It was the only thing that caught your attention!" she screamed, powerful and more scary than intended.
He did not respond, he merely jumped, and stared into her eyes.
"Do you think I wanted to leave? Do you think it felt good? Mulder, had I not gone you would have been dead in two weeks-"
"-you had me committed, Scully," he choked.
Finally the tears began to fall for him.
It shocked her, for some reason. An old wave of their previous ways began to set in again. Suddenly, she felt more vulnerable and less prepared than before, and sat erect. She took a deep breath, blinked, and then did what she had always been best at: she removed herself from herself…and gripped to fact in order to keep logical reason.
"As your physician, had I done any less, it would have broken the bioethical principle of nonmalficence. Your autonomy was too constrained by your psychological illness-"
"-for fuck's sake, will you just say depression?!" he was outraged at her avoidance.
"Mulder-"
"-Say depression!" he demanded.
"It was more than that Mulder! You went off the deep end!" she now yelled back, fully defensive, and even right.
"Why don't you just tell me what it is that bothered you most, Scully. Then you'd feel better," he prompted deviously.
"Please, stop."
"Tell me, there's always something more."
"Mulder-"
"-TELL ME!"
"You didn't deserve an easy ticket out! I went off the deep end long ago, and there was NO ONE to save me! It wasn't fair. When I saw you wallowing in your own self pity, I hated you for it, because I wasn't allowed to do that! Putting you in that hospital held you accountable for your actions."
He sat there in shock for a moment.
Silence was thick in the air, it almost choked them both.
"Let the punishment fit the crime, is that it?" he asked, not bitter, but deeply saddened.
"At the time, yes," she admitted, and took a deep breath.
"Do you feel bad, at all?"
"No, you needed help, and you got it. My own selfish pleasure from it was short-lived," she went further.
"For a long time, I'd hoped you'd done it because you loved me. Isn't that pathetic?" he laughed bitterly.
"I did it because I loved you. Because you were all I had, and I couldn't bear having your demise on my conscience. At least apart, you could find your way. You're better now…I can tell. That's what matters," she stated, fully doing her best to find something worthwhile.
"I might be…but…you're different. You're so different, Scully…" he finally accused, suddenly meek.
"What's to be expected, Mulder? I have nothing," she said, quietly. It was so weak and fragile that his heart almost leapt.
"You have me…"
"No…I had you. Even that vanished long ago."
"It…it might have. But, I'm here now. And…I'm healthier than I was before. I'm…I'm more capable for you now."
"For all the terrible things that we've done to each other, for each other? That's what got us here in the first place. That's a terrible idea. It's why I left," she admitted.
They looked at one another with agony, exhaustion, and uncertainty. Then, in a moment she would never forget, he shrugged.
"…Okay…" he finally says.
It was there again, no matter how subtle: his fierce dedication, something that had bothered her in the past, but as she realized by now, had come to love. It was one thing she missed most in him since the darkness.
"Mulder, we can't keep doing this to each other," she still denied, almost as a means to save him from the uncertain future ahead of them.
"What I can't do, is live the rest of my life feeling like I've let you slip from my grasp. I've driven everything to ruin, and I took you down with me, but I'm tired of treating each other like polite strangers. It makes me uncomfortable, Scully," he admitted.
"What's to be expected? We are strangers, to an extent. It's what happens when time and distance keep two people apart," she explained blandly.
"Scully…we can't do this alone-"
"-you don't need me to be a part of your quest anymore-"
"-I need you to feel like myself. I'm not myself without you. And i'm willing to be patient and correct the wrongs I've done to you," he murmured.
"I've done wrong too…" she admits, not quite in agreement, but it's progress, and he'll take it.
"Yes, you have," he agrees.
"Mulder you…you really hurt me," she admits, and the tears began again, but they flowed at full force.
"You hurt me, too. This is going to take a lot of work for us to get back, but it's easier than being apart. I…I can't do that anymore, Scully," he urged, and tried to move toward her. For a moment it seems as though he will give her a loving nudge, but she retracts.
"Promise me that you won't leave. Promise me," she's suddenly angry again, and more demanding than she's ever been before. Yet, that spunk sent a thrill through him that he could only describe as hope, for the first time in years.
"I won't leave you, I swear," he choked, in absolute truth.
"Don't ever put me in a position that you aren't present with me, emotionally or physically. I need all of you or none of you, and I can't lose you again Mulder. I really don't think I can handle it again if anything…" she begins, and then utterly loses it.
She's a mess, shaking uncontrollably, but he's never felt more satisfied with her…never felt more thrilled to be in her presence. Some hours later she'll more than likely admit embarrassment, but by then he'll be strong enough to reassure her that he's never felt more in love.
The urge to comfort her overwhelmed him. As she wept with her head in her hands, he slowly approached her, and then enveloped her in his arms. The scent she missed most filled her nostrils, and made her dizzy.
None of it was right, or sweet, and the destruction they'd done to one another was far from even scraping the surface toward healing.
Somehow, something changed; somehow, they were back to a new normal. A purge of emotions, cleansed from the toxic remnants of the too many years unspoken. Now, though broken, they would begin healing process. It may have been over a decade late, but…they would do their damnedest.
In the revival, when it was revealed that she actually left him during his depression, was so close to what the fanbase had always suggested that I got chills. It's because we know this characters so well...there's so much love involved. However, I was more heartbroken than anything, not only for Mulder's struggle, but because I don't think it's awful Scully left him.
In regard to his depression, I don't think it's too extreme to suggest that she had him placed into a facility to properly care for him, even if it was against his will. She would have gotten him the help he needed before she left for good. As his physician and, more than likely, his legal partner, she would have the means to do so.
SO EXCITED FOR MORE EPISODES! Maybe I'll write something happy soon.