X-Files Fanfic

Spoilers: Milagro Post-Ep

Classification: MSR

Feedback: I would LOVE to know what you think of this! It's only my first story...

My Heart Stopped

My heart stopped when I saw her. I could hardly form coherent sentences in my head. When I could, it was one sentence, the same sentence, over and over, until the words eventually ran together. She's got to be alive. She's gotta be alive. Shesgottabealive! Time slowed to a crawl as I loomed over her much in the same way her attacker must have done. Her eyes were closed, she wasn't breathing, she's…no! Don't think it, and it's not true, right?

Suddenly something new registered in my mind. Red. Everywhere. So much of it everywhere I looked. Her pure white blouse and ivory skin made the color even deeper, darker, more horrible than it already was. Even where there wasn't blood seemed to be tainted by what had been done to my partner.

No, not my partner. She had become so much more than that over the years. My closest friend, my touchstone. She was the only one I put my trust in and the only person that was truly important to me. Nothing else mattered to me anymore. And now she was…no, no, NO! I can't believe it; I won't believe it.

Just when I thought my life had been turned upside down, she jerked upright. She didn't recognize me at first, fearing that I was still the one who had attacked her. So many feelings registered in her eyes: fear, terror, and then realization. In the briefest of moments our eyes connected, and through a single look I told her "I'm Here." Then Scully did something she rarely does. She let down her walls and let me into her heart. Throwing herself into my arms, she cried. Her hands clutched at my back, trying desperately to get a hold on reality, to know she was truly safe; and that's what I told her- what she needed to know.

"It's okay, I'm here now, you're safe. You're safe." What I said hit me hard. NOW I'm here. Where was I when she had really needed me? Chasing and stopping the guy who was trying to save her?

She looked at me finally, afraid to believe I was really there, afraid to trust her senses. With my eyes I begged her not to close herself off, not to push me away. The I heard sirens.I knew the police would be at my apartment soon, but I didn't want them here with Scully so upset and clearly shaken up. She was sitting now, her back against the bottom of my couch, eyes down, but as close to me as she could get without being in my lap. Now and then a few post-cry hiccups would escape her, but no other sound came from her mouth.

"Scully?" No response. "Dana." She looked up at that. "How bad does it hurt?" I mainly asked her so she would know that I was there for her. I knew what she'd say… the usual phrase.

But she surprised me again. She looked up at me and said "I'm tired, I ache, and I wanna cry." And then she did. I pulled her into my arms and she came to me willingly. She was tired of being strong, tired of being "fine," tired of holding up her crumbling walls. She simply let it all go. She cried all of her tears before looking up at me again. Scully seemed ready to speak when there was suddenly a knock on my door. Her eyes grew wide, two great pools of shimmering, icy blue asking, pleading that she wouldn't have to talk to anyone. She said my name for the first time since I knelt by her side, and the emotion with which she said it almost made my own floodgates burst open.

"Mulder, please, I-I can't." Her eyes filled with tears that I didn't know she still harbored.

"Scully, someone needs to examine you. I'll be right here."

"No, Mulder…"

"Scully, please," I interrupted her. "I want to be here with you. There is no way I'm leaving you now."

She gave me a small smile. "You didn't think I was going to let you leave, did you? I meant I don't want anyone to examine me, or even touch me. Except you. Only you." She dropped her eyes at the last two whispered words, as if she were afraid of what she might see in my eyes.

I was about to reply when my mind was snapped back to reality when someone pounded on my door, much harder than the first time. "Coming!" I yelled. To Scully I said, " Just go to my bedroom and sit on the bed. I'll be there in a minute."

"Don't leave okay?"

I tilted her head up until her eyes met mine. "I won't leave unless you tell me to. I promise… even if it is my apartment."

Blushing with this realization, she did as I asked, walking with her head down. She looked so much different from the Scully that I knew. The Scully that never let anything get her down, that was so strong. Of course, she had to be strong to work as a female in such a male dominated society and job. She had to be especially strong with a partner like me: the typical male ego, trying to prove something to myself and the world around me that constantly knocks me down on my butt; not caring about anyone or anything around me; discarding the feelings of those I care about for the ever-sought-after but never-quite-seen truth. I wonder why she has stayed by me this long.

I pondered this question as I answered the door. Apparently, the neighbors had heard Scully empty every last bullet from her gun into the unknown attacker, and felt it was extremely important to call the police. Imagine that. I explained that situation and, while half of them went to procure the body of the sick and twisted Philip Padgett, talked to the paramedics about Scully. I told them that I was more than capable of taking care of her and that it would only upset her more if they were to force her cooperation with them. I wasn't really going to examine Scully. I already knew what I would find: nothing but maybe red angry skin. After a hushed discussion that lasted about fifteen minutes the paramedics left and the police returned only to be met with, "No statements before tomorrow."

When the parade that passed through my apartment finally left, I went to see how Scully was feeling, entering the bedroom quietly in case she had fallen asleep. What I saw shocked me. (Wow, third time tonight. You're on a roll, Scully.) Scully had found a pair of my old sweatpants and an old gray Knicks T-shirt in one of my drawers. She was now wearing these instead of her blood-soaked blouse and slacks. Her legs were curled up under her, as if she had been anxiously waiting for me.

"Any tapes you found in those drawers aren't mine," I joked

To this Scully replied, "Better return them to Frohike then."

She seemed to be feeling much better, but her eyes were drooping. They were almost closed. Pulling back the top corner of the covers, I told Scully to climb in between them. She hesitated.

"What's wrong?" I asked, confused.

"Where are you going to be?"

"In the living room."

"No, please. Just… just stay here until I go to sleep. Please?"

"Sure, Scully. I'll be right here."

I sat on the bed while Scully climbed under the covers and pulled the top covers up to her chin. I watched as her breathing slowed to a steady pace and her eyes drifted closed. It didn't take long for her to fall asleep and even after she had, I continued to watch her. Her brilliant red hair contrasted beautifully with the white pillow. The worry lines on her face that she had displayed since the attack had smoothed and she slept soundly. I quietly got up from the bed and continued into the living room. Even though I knew it was going to be hard, I knew I had to clean the blood, Scully's blood, off of the floor. Using a thick towel, a bucket of warm water, and a floor cleaner, I cleaned up her blood, crying as I went. I'm supposed to be there for her, be her back-up, and wait for her so she can be mine. We are a team and we work together… at least we're supposed to. But I ditched her. Again. How many times does she have to get hurt before I learn a lesson? My thoughts were interrupted by a screamed, "Mulder!!"

I raced into the bedroom where Scully was sitting, wide awake, trying desperately to untangle herself from the covers. Quickly I helped to free her and as soon as I had untangled her I pulled her into my lap, cradling her like a small child afraid in a thunderstorm. When she had calmed down slightly, I asked her what had happened.

"I woke up from a nightmare and I reached out for you and you weren't there," she cried. She looked at me and noticed that I was crying as well. Her doctor's instinct immediately overtook her fear and she asked me what was wrong.

I silently shook my head. This wasn't about me, this was about her. I wasn't going to start off on a feeling-sorry-for-myself story when less than an hour ago she had almost… well, you know. I still can't even think it. Every synapse in my brain was screaming at me to tell her how I felt, everything that I had been keeping inside for so long. Then I realized her mood had changed. My silence had apparently been taken the wrong way. She was no longer crying, but her face told me that she was very, very angry. What had I done now?

"What is with you, Mulder? I open myself up to you and then you just push me away? You never tell me how you feel! In fact, you tell every woman in the world except me how you feel! What is it about me Mulder that makes you ditch me and tell all your girlfriends what's going on in your life!?" Scully was screaming now. He had pushed herself out of my arms and was standing in front of me as I sat dumbfounded on the edge of the bed. Her face was dangerously red. I am so sick of the way you treat me all the time; as if I'm never quite good enough to simply talk to and spend time with! I'm just your partner, just someone who keeps you from getting hurt and tries to keep your butt out of trouble! At the end of the day I mean nothing to you! I hate it! And I hate loving you! I hate watching you flirt with all of those women and know that I can never have you! I hate hearing all of your stupid innuendos and know that you're teasing, just wanting to see how I react! I hate all of it!" Then her voice softened slightly. "But what I hate the most is that I still love you and can't get rid of that infinitesimal speck of hope that one day I will mean something to you, and that one day those innuendos won't just be teasing, and maybe, just maybe, those women will stop meaning anything to you. The memories of Bambi and Phoebe and Diana Fowley will just disappear." Her eyes blazed at the final name, and she now had tears streaming down her face. She was panting from the exertion she had just put into her anger.

"Please Scully, let me explain. You have it all wrong." I felt horrible that I had put her through so much. She meant so much to me and she believed the exact opposite. Of course, the way that I treat her most of the time didn't help. But she said the words- she said them with extreme anger- but she said them nonetheless. I wanted to explain myself, my actions. However, Scully wouldn't listen. Who could blame her? She glared at me, and then with the tears still pouring she went down on her knees, face in her hands.

"No!" She screamed. "I'm so tired of listening to all your stupid explanations of why you always ditch me and why you treat me so horribly and with such disrespect!"

"Scully, let me have one minute. One minute to explain myself. Then if you're still upset, you can slap me across the face and I'll call you a cab." I looked at her, praying for a miracle. And then I got one. She looked back at me, waiting. I knelt down beside her.

Here goes everything, I thought. "Scully, I do and say those things because you mean everything to me, but I know that you deserve better than me. I go after other women because I want to get you off my mind; because I figure if I look at you the way I look at them that you'll shoot me…again. I use those innuendos because teasing and joking are the only ways that I'll ever get to say them to you. I run off and ditch you because I think I'm protecting you and keeping you from getting hurt. But now I realize that everything I thought was wrong. Everything that I did to protect you was only hurting you even more. I'm so sorry, Scully. First of all, you are the strongest person I know and can very well protect yourself. Second of all, I should have told you long before now how I feel instead of keeping it inside and trying to distract myself from you. I love you Scully. I was afraid to tell you before now, but it's the truth. I hope you can forgive me for being so blind and uncaring to your feelings." I stopped and waited for her reaction. We had always been able to read each other, but my nerves were inhibiting my reading of her face. I began to worry and prepared myself for the contact of her hand with my face.

Then her hand did make contact, but not the way I thought it would. So gently that it was almost imperceptible, she cupped the side of my face with her hand and looked into my eyes. For the second time that night, she searched my eyes, afraid to believe me, afraid to trust me. However, I knew what she would see so I wasn't afraid at all. She would see unrestrained and complete love. I knew the moment she saw it; she gave me the first real, true smile since she had first cried in my arms that night. Tears were still running down her face, but they meant something different now and they gave me hope.

"The best thing about love, Mulder, is that if it is true love, it fogives no matter what." At this simple sentence that meant so much, relief flowed through me. Then the impossible happened. Scully looked at me for a second longer and then put her lips tentatively to mine. It surprised me that we had just poured out hearts out to each other and she was still afraid. Still sitting in front of her, I wrapped one arm around her waist and put my opposite hand behind her head drawing her closer to me. With that, carefully constructed and ornately built walls that had taken years to build crumbled at our feet. The age-old dance of mouths and tongues was carried out, symbolizing love and redemption. When we finally broke apart, "I love you" were the first words out of my mouth. Now I felt as if I couldn't say them enough.

I suddenly realized how heavily Scully was leaning against me. It had been an extremely long day and she was exhausted. I helped her to her feet, and this time she climbed into bed without hesitating. I climbed in behind her, putting my arm protectively around her waist, once again telling her what I wanted her to know: I'm here.

THE END