Title: Tonight I've Watched
Author: Emily Todd Carter
Genre: MSR/UST, Angst
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: It's not like anyone who matters will
read this, much less sue me.
Summary: 1/? (Takes place around 5th or 6th season) A
bullet taken one chilly November evening leads to the
merging of two separate paths, two separate people
already walking side by side.
~**~
Chapter One...Take This, My Heart
Scully once asked me if I had ever taken into
consideration the nutritional value of a sunflower
seed.
Truthfully, I hadn't. To this day, I don't know what
the hell sunflower seeds are good for. But I do know
that one chilly Friday in November, I had felt the
familiar craving, that addiction I have yet to explain. And
without Scully's consent, I had pulled into the nearest
Pantry and unbuckled my seatbelt.
I'd give anything to have kept driving that night.
We would have made it to the airport
on time to catch our flight, passing the airborne hours
in silence. Six coffee cups and a car rental later, our
lives would have resumed that seemingly monotonous toil
into which they had fallen so many years before.
And this scar that she now bears, these memories I have yet to
erase, this acceptance of the reality we had wordlessly denied
for too many years would have never come to pass.
"Mulder, what are you doing?" she asked frantically,
glancing at her watch. "We've got forty minutes
before the plane leaves! There's no time." She had
given me an evil Scully-glare then, the one where she
scrunches up her eyebrows and sort of narrows her
eyes. Scully's eyes were green then. They're always
green when she's mad.
"I'll be quick." I replied,
pulling the car door handle and placing my oversized
feet on the sidewalk. I heard Scully sigh behind me
as she exited the car from the passenger side. Our
doors slammed simultaneously, as if on cue. Her
petite heels clicked against the concrete with each
step. I glanced in her general vicinity and noticed
her pulling her coat tightly across her chest to
shield from the impending draft of wind. I
instinctively placed my hand on her back and guided
her through the door.
The tiny bell rang, indicating our entrance. I
surveyed the small store out of habit. People say I'm
paranoid. I'm not--just aware.
A short, Mexican cashier stood behind the counter and
a young mother with her child strolled down the candy
aisle. The drink refrigerators lined the back wall
adjacent to the bathrooms, and three rows were stocked
with various junk food and candy. I grabbed a pack of the
cheapest brand of sunflower seeds joined Scully at the cash register.
We waited patiently behind the young
mother who seemed to be having trouble finding the
correct change to make her purchase.
Scully glared up at me. Her hair was limp from the
damp air, but she didn't seem to notice. I tried not
to realize that not worrying about her appearance
around me was not exactly a compliment. "You've got
thirty-seven minutes, Mulder."
She took a swig of the Diet Coke she held. "I
hope you're prepared to pay for that, ma'am," I
taunted.
"Actually, I seem to have left my wallet in the car.
I hope you're prepared to pay for it."
We stepped up to the counter as the young woman left
and placed our purchases on the surface. I handed the cashier
a five-dollar bill, and he pressed the change drawer. When it
refused to open, he cursed in Spanish and headed
somewhere in a back room to find a key.
I sighed and turned to face the magazine rack. A
particular cover caught my eye on the bottom row, but I
decided not pursue it.
We both glanced at the door as the tiny bell rang. A
mid-twenties, tall man passed the magazine rack
wearing jeans and a leather jacket. I instinctively
moved closer to Scully. The young man stepped into line
behind Scully and me. The two of us did not fail to notice
the way he nervously shifted from one foot to the
other as we anticipated the cashier's return.
We weren't disappointed as he appeared moments later
and produced a small key that succeeded in unlocking
the cash register. Just as he handed me my change, I
heard that all-too-familiar click behind my back.
"N-n-nobody move or I'll sh-sh-shoot!" the man
screamed, pressing the gun firmly into my left
shoulder. "Just-just gimme all the money in there!
Just-just give it to me! I'll sh-sh-shoot! I swear ta
God, I'll kill this man!"
My senses were exceedingly acute at that moment. I
heard Scully draw in a quick breath alongside me. I
watched the shaking cashier's hand slowly move toward
the red button. I felt the cool cylindrical barrel of
the gun against my shirt, and I could almost taste the fear
that pervaded the room.
"Hurry up, dammit! Give me the money!" The man thrust
a small sack at the cashier, who jittered as he
filled it with all of the cash in the register. "And
don't push that button! I s-s-swear if you push that
button, someone's gonna die! S-s-someone's gonna
die!"
Multiple car doors slammed outside
the convenience store. With the arrival of the
police, our assailant began to quiver in sheer
terror. He closed his eyes and swallowed, mentally
blocking images of apprehension by the men in blue
poised outside.
"Look what you did, you-you-you Mexican bastard! I'm
gonna go to j-j-jail now!" Wincing, the man
relieved my back of the pressure and aimed his gun at
the cashier who seemed to be praying. The cashier
lifted his hands into the air in surrender as he
closed his eyes and muttered what he believed would
be his final words. Once they opened again, tears
streamed down his cheeks in tiny rivers, mixed with
beads of sweat.
"You don't want to shoot anybody, here," I finally
said, taking action.
Leather Jacket took aim and continued to point the gun
at the cashier.
"Just gimme the gun and nobody gets hurt. Nobody gets
hurt and everyone'll be fine. Just give me the gun," I said
calmly, keeping my tone monotonous as not to startle him.
Our only hope rested in Scully's hands. He apparently
didn't take notice of her as she
gradually unhooked her Colt .32 from its holster.
The cashier finished loading the sack and held it out
to the man with shaking arms. He stepped
forward to accept his reward and Scully seized her
opportunity to strike at the time of a slight
weakness. She smoothly drew her weapon from its
holster, a clean motion derived from her years of
practice. Her sleek motions were mechanical, and
Leather Jacket staggered back in surprise. The Colt
was aimed at our assailant's chest before he could
register the action.
"Look buddy, I need you to listen to me now. You
listen, or you die. It's very simple."
He drew in quick breaths as he wiped a
trail of sweat away from his brow.
"You see those men out there? The guys in blue with
the guns?" She waved her gun in the general direction
of the policemen waiting patiently in position beyond
the door. The squad had accepted that the situation
was under control for the moment and that striking
could possibly startle an already terrified man into
overreacting.
"You shoot one of us, they kill you. It's that easy.
No questions asked. Now, I'm going to present a very
reasonable solution to the problem we seem to be
having today. You give me that gun..." Scully paused to
catch her breath and regain her composure. "And I'll
see if I can pull some strings to abbreviate your
sentence."
The gunman shook his head violently. Aware of the gun
aimed at his chest, he apparently seemed to accept
the fact that he was no longer in control and had
nothing left to lose. He glanced towards the door and
anxiously shifted his weight from one foot to the
other.
"No. No, no, no, no. I g-gotta get outta here. I need
this money, dammit!" With that, he swerved around and
aimed the gun directly at the policemen outside the
door. Normally, I might have chuckled at the
stupidity of our adversary at this moment. The man's
sanity was hanging by a thread ready to break
at the slightest disturbance.
The men in blue outside the door raised their guns at
the gunman, poised to shoot should he venture any
closer. One tiny click of a policeman's safety was
all it took to finally push this disturbed man over
the edge. The gunman swiveled around and raised the
gun at Scully.
The next few moments seemed to be happening in slow
motion, yet passed in the blink of an eye. The raised
gun fired in a flash of light and a puff of smoke.
Scully gasped and slowly dropped her weapon to the
tiled floor. Time seemed to freeze, as did my
partner. Eyes wide, her hand fell and slowly brushed
the gaping hole in her sky blue blouse, now being
soaked with a deep red liquid. Scarlet blood trickled
over her fingers as her head rose and her eyes slowly
searched the room to meet mine. Scully then sank to
her knees.
In an almost surreal state, the room began to spin as
my thoughts swerved out of control. Flashes of color
filled my mind; the deep blue of the policemen moving
in to apprehend the young man, the stained white of
the tiled floor beneath my feet now being soaked with
the blood of the woman that meant the world to
me.
I was at her side in an instant, supporting her back
as I slowly laid her down upon the tiled floor. Her
tiny hands remained positioned over the wound, as if
to shield the pain. One hand propping her head, I
slowly caressed her cheek and brushed a strand of her
flaming hair away from her face.
"Mulder," she mumbled, her eyes rolling from side to
side.
"Don't talk, Scully. Don't talk. It's- It's gonna be
alright, ok? Just hang in there. Hang in there," I
replied, resting her head upon the floor to free my
hand. Glancing around, I noticed the policemen
calling an ambulance. It would only be a matter of
time.
I furiously ripped at her blouse, sending buttons
flying in various directions. The wound was exposed
amidst the fair skin of her stomach. The blood flow
was rapid and relentless. I tore the coat from my
shoulders, pressing it against the wound in an
attempt to decelerate the flow.
"Come on, stay with me, Scully."
Deep breaths, Mulder, I thought to myself. Inhale and
exhale. My petty exercises did little to suppress the
growing emotions that were threatening to erupt
within me; the sheer anger, fear, and regret gnawed
at my soul. A brief flash of thought entered my mind,
a mantra destined to haunt me throughout those long
hours in the waiting room of the hospital:
--My blood should be spilled upon this floor.--
But there was no time for these contrite sentiments.
The guilt would have to take second priority at the
moment. I was clutching a fading life, a dying woman.
But Scully had been through worse, and I knew she
would fight to the death should the need arise.
My partner's hand sluggishly lifted above the floor
and brushed against mine. I grasped it gingerly and
held her sweaty palm against my cheek. Kissing her
fingertips, I could feel Scully's hand slowly flex
with each wave of pain. She was clutching onto her
precious life, threatening to slip through her
fingers.
"Mulder," she whispered, her once vigorous face now pale
and sodden with beads of sweat. Her grip on my hand
began to slacken with every breath. Scully's eyes on
the brink of closure, I bowed my head and searched
for words.
"Scully?" I asked. "Can you hear me?" A squeeze of
her hand conveyed her positive response. Taking a
shaky breath for reassurance, I gently leaned forward
and planted the lightest of kisses upon the tip of
her nose.
"Come on, Scully," I choked,
refusing to surrender to the shower of tears threatening
to stream down my face. I buried my head in her
shoulder, letting the tears soak her blouse.
I was suddenly aware of my surroundings the moment an
ambulance appeared outside the Pantry door, screaming
its siren and sending red flashes of light through
the dusty glass window. The paramedics were inside
immediately, gurney in tow.
I raised my head from Scully's blouse and squeezed
her hand one last time. I smiled and smoothed her
hair away from her face. A paramedic placed one hand
upon her back and the other below her knees to lift
her from the cold floor onto the stretcher.
I walked alongside the stretcher, my oversized
hand still clutching hers. It was almost perfect how
our hands fit together, hers so tiny that it almost
fit into my palm. Such a tiny hand for such a strong
woman, I thought. Strong enough to hang on to life as
powerfully as she clutched me.
The wheels rolled through the door and outside onto
the pavement. As I loaded into the ambulance
alongside her, the air was flooded with EMS workers
screaming vital signs and treatment commands.
"Let's get two large bore IV's, lactated ringers.
Pressure?" the chief medic shouted.
"90 over 60. Airway and breathing established,"
another replied, pressing an oxygen mask over
Scully's mouth. He slammed the door as we drove away,
sirens screaming.
I didn't speak, but simply kept my firm grasp of her
hand, hoping that my presence was a comfort to her.
It wasn't her time to die. Not yet. And I was going to
do everything in my power to prevent that from
happening.
END Ch. 1
Author: Emily Todd Carter
Genre: MSR/UST, Angst
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: It's not like anyone who matters will
read this, much less sue me.
Summary: 1/? (Takes place around 5th or 6th season) A
bullet taken one chilly November evening leads to the
merging of two separate paths, two separate people
already walking side by side.
~**~
Chapter One...Take This, My Heart
Scully once asked me if I had ever taken into
consideration the nutritional value of a sunflower
seed.
Truthfully, I hadn't. To this day, I don't know what
the hell sunflower seeds are good for. But I do know
that one chilly Friday in November, I had felt the
familiar craving, that addiction I have yet to explain. And
without Scully's consent, I had pulled into the nearest
Pantry and unbuckled my seatbelt.
I'd give anything to have kept driving that night.
We would have made it to the airport
on time to catch our flight, passing the airborne hours
in silence. Six coffee cups and a car rental later, our
lives would have resumed that seemingly monotonous toil
into which they had fallen so many years before.
And this scar that she now bears, these memories I have yet to
erase, this acceptance of the reality we had wordlessly denied
for too many years would have never come to pass.
"Mulder, what are you doing?" she asked frantically,
glancing at her watch. "We've got forty minutes
before the plane leaves! There's no time." She had
given me an evil Scully-glare then, the one where she
scrunches up her eyebrows and sort of narrows her
eyes. Scully's eyes were green then. They're always
green when she's mad.
"I'll be quick." I replied,
pulling the car door handle and placing my oversized
feet on the sidewalk. I heard Scully sigh behind me
as she exited the car from the passenger side. Our
doors slammed simultaneously, as if on cue. Her
petite heels clicked against the concrete with each
step. I glanced in her general vicinity and noticed
her pulling her coat tightly across her chest to
shield from the impending draft of wind. I
instinctively placed my hand on her back and guided
her through the door.
The tiny bell rang, indicating our entrance. I
surveyed the small store out of habit. People say I'm
paranoid. I'm not--just aware.
A short, Mexican cashier stood behind the counter and
a young mother with her child strolled down the candy
aisle. The drink refrigerators lined the back wall
adjacent to the bathrooms, and three rows were stocked
with various junk food and candy. I grabbed a pack of the
cheapest brand of sunflower seeds joined Scully at the cash register.
We waited patiently behind the young
mother who seemed to be having trouble finding the
correct change to make her purchase.
Scully glared up at me. Her hair was limp from the
damp air, but she didn't seem to notice. I tried not
to realize that not worrying about her appearance
around me was not exactly a compliment. "You've got
thirty-seven minutes, Mulder."
She took a swig of the Diet Coke she held. "I
hope you're prepared to pay for that, ma'am," I
taunted.
"Actually, I seem to have left my wallet in the car.
I hope you're prepared to pay for it."
We stepped up to the counter as the young woman left
and placed our purchases on the surface. I handed the cashier
a five-dollar bill, and he pressed the change drawer. When it
refused to open, he cursed in Spanish and headed
somewhere in a back room to find a key.
I sighed and turned to face the magazine rack. A
particular cover caught my eye on the bottom row, but I
decided not pursue it.
We both glanced at the door as the tiny bell rang. A
mid-twenties, tall man passed the magazine rack
wearing jeans and a leather jacket. I instinctively
moved closer to Scully. The young man stepped into line
behind Scully and me. The two of us did not fail to notice
the way he nervously shifted from one foot to the
other as we anticipated the cashier's return.
We weren't disappointed as he appeared moments later
and produced a small key that succeeded in unlocking
the cash register. Just as he handed me my change, I
heard that all-too-familiar click behind my back.
"N-n-nobody move or I'll sh-sh-shoot!" the man
screamed, pressing the gun firmly into my left
shoulder. "Just-just gimme all the money in there!
Just-just give it to me! I'll sh-sh-shoot! I swear ta
God, I'll kill this man!"
My senses were exceedingly acute at that moment. I
heard Scully draw in a quick breath alongside me. I
watched the shaking cashier's hand slowly move toward
the red button. I felt the cool cylindrical barrel of
the gun against my shirt, and I could almost taste the fear
that pervaded the room.
"Hurry up, dammit! Give me the money!" The man thrust
a small sack at the cashier, who jittered as he
filled it with all of the cash in the register. "And
don't push that button! I s-s-swear if you push that
button, someone's gonna die! S-s-someone's gonna
die!"
Multiple car doors slammed outside
the convenience store. With the arrival of the
police, our assailant began to quiver in sheer
terror. He closed his eyes and swallowed, mentally
blocking images of apprehension by the men in blue
poised outside.
"Look what you did, you-you-you Mexican bastard! I'm
gonna go to j-j-jail now!" Wincing, the man
relieved my back of the pressure and aimed his gun at
the cashier who seemed to be praying. The cashier
lifted his hands into the air in surrender as he
closed his eyes and muttered what he believed would
be his final words. Once they opened again, tears
streamed down his cheeks in tiny rivers, mixed with
beads of sweat.
"You don't want to shoot anybody, here," I finally
said, taking action.
Leather Jacket took aim and continued to point the gun
at the cashier.
"Just gimme the gun and nobody gets hurt. Nobody gets
hurt and everyone'll be fine. Just give me the gun," I said
calmly, keeping my tone monotonous as not to startle him.
Our only hope rested in Scully's hands. He apparently
didn't take notice of her as she
gradually unhooked her Colt .32 from its holster.
The cashier finished loading the sack and held it out
to the man with shaking arms. He stepped
forward to accept his reward and Scully seized her
opportunity to strike at the time of a slight
weakness. She smoothly drew her weapon from its
holster, a clean motion derived from her years of
practice. Her sleek motions were mechanical, and
Leather Jacket staggered back in surprise. The Colt
was aimed at our assailant's chest before he could
register the action.
"Look buddy, I need you to listen to me now. You
listen, or you die. It's very simple."
He drew in quick breaths as he wiped a
trail of sweat away from his brow.
"You see those men out there? The guys in blue with
the guns?" She waved her gun in the general direction
of the policemen waiting patiently in position beyond
the door. The squad had accepted that the situation
was under control for the moment and that striking
could possibly startle an already terrified man into
overreacting.
"You shoot one of us, they kill you. It's that easy.
No questions asked. Now, I'm going to present a very
reasonable solution to the problem we seem to be
having today. You give me that gun..." Scully paused to
catch her breath and regain her composure. "And I'll
see if I can pull some strings to abbreviate your
sentence."
The gunman shook his head violently. Aware of the gun
aimed at his chest, he apparently seemed to accept
the fact that he was no longer in control and had
nothing left to lose. He glanced towards the door and
anxiously shifted his weight from one foot to the
other.
"No. No, no, no, no. I g-gotta get outta here. I need
this money, dammit!" With that, he swerved around and
aimed the gun directly at the policemen outside the
door. Normally, I might have chuckled at the
stupidity of our adversary at this moment. The man's
sanity was hanging by a thread ready to break
at the slightest disturbance.
The men in blue outside the door raised their guns at
the gunman, poised to shoot should he venture any
closer. One tiny click of a policeman's safety was
all it took to finally push this disturbed man over
the edge. The gunman swiveled around and raised the
gun at Scully.
The next few moments seemed to be happening in slow
motion, yet passed in the blink of an eye. The raised
gun fired in a flash of light and a puff of smoke.
Scully gasped and slowly dropped her weapon to the
tiled floor. Time seemed to freeze, as did my
partner. Eyes wide, her hand fell and slowly brushed
the gaping hole in her sky blue blouse, now being
soaked with a deep red liquid. Scarlet blood trickled
over her fingers as her head rose and her eyes slowly
searched the room to meet mine. Scully then sank to
her knees.
In an almost surreal state, the room began to spin as
my thoughts swerved out of control. Flashes of color
filled my mind; the deep blue of the policemen moving
in to apprehend the young man, the stained white of
the tiled floor beneath my feet now being soaked with
the blood of the woman that meant the world to
me.
I was at her side in an instant, supporting her back
as I slowly laid her down upon the tiled floor. Her
tiny hands remained positioned over the wound, as if
to shield the pain. One hand propping her head, I
slowly caressed her cheek and brushed a strand of her
flaming hair away from her face.
"Mulder," she mumbled, her eyes rolling from side to
side.
"Don't talk, Scully. Don't talk. It's- It's gonna be
alright, ok? Just hang in there. Hang in there," I
replied, resting her head upon the floor to free my
hand. Glancing around, I noticed the policemen
calling an ambulance. It would only be a matter of
time.
I furiously ripped at her blouse, sending buttons
flying in various directions. The wound was exposed
amidst the fair skin of her stomach. The blood flow
was rapid and relentless. I tore the coat from my
shoulders, pressing it against the wound in an
attempt to decelerate the flow.
"Come on, stay with me, Scully."
Deep breaths, Mulder, I thought to myself. Inhale and
exhale. My petty exercises did little to suppress the
growing emotions that were threatening to erupt
within me; the sheer anger, fear, and regret gnawed
at my soul. A brief flash of thought entered my mind,
a mantra destined to haunt me throughout those long
hours in the waiting room of the hospital:
--My blood should be spilled upon this floor.--
But there was no time for these contrite sentiments.
The guilt would have to take second priority at the
moment. I was clutching a fading life, a dying woman.
But Scully had been through worse, and I knew she
would fight to the death should the need arise.
My partner's hand sluggishly lifted above the floor
and brushed against mine. I grasped it gingerly and
held her sweaty palm against my cheek. Kissing her
fingertips, I could feel Scully's hand slowly flex
with each wave of pain. She was clutching onto her
precious life, threatening to slip through her
fingers.
"Mulder," she whispered, her once vigorous face now pale
and sodden with beads of sweat. Her grip on my hand
began to slacken with every breath. Scully's eyes on
the brink of closure, I bowed my head and searched
for words.
"Scully?" I asked. "Can you hear me?" A squeeze of
her hand conveyed her positive response. Taking a
shaky breath for reassurance, I gently leaned forward
and planted the lightest of kisses upon the tip of
her nose.
"Come on, Scully," I choked,
refusing to surrender to the shower of tears threatening
to stream down my face. I buried my head in her
shoulder, letting the tears soak her blouse.
I was suddenly aware of my surroundings the moment an
ambulance appeared outside the Pantry door, screaming
its siren and sending red flashes of light through
the dusty glass window. The paramedics were inside
immediately, gurney in tow.
I raised my head from Scully's blouse and squeezed
her hand one last time. I smiled and smoothed her
hair away from her face. A paramedic placed one hand
upon her back and the other below her knees to lift
her from the cold floor onto the stretcher.
I walked alongside the stretcher, my oversized
hand still clutching hers. It was almost perfect how
our hands fit together, hers so tiny that it almost
fit into my palm. Such a tiny hand for such a strong
woman, I thought. Strong enough to hang on to life as
powerfully as she clutched me.
The wheels rolled through the door and outside onto
the pavement. As I loaded into the ambulance
alongside her, the air was flooded with EMS workers
screaming vital signs and treatment commands.
"Let's get two large bore IV's, lactated ringers.
Pressure?" the chief medic shouted.
"90 over 60. Airway and breathing established,"
another replied, pressing an oxygen mask over
Scully's mouth. He slammed the door as we drove away,
sirens screaming.
I didn't speak, but simply kept my firm grasp of her
hand, hoping that my presence was a comfort to her.
It wasn't her time to die. Not yet. And I was going to
do everything in my power to prevent that from
happening.
END Ch. 1
