Author's Note: This came out of my own desire for a scene directly following the "hallway hug" in Requiem and to explain how Scully gives Mulder her necklace to wear to Oregon. While in the process of writing it, I decided to incorporate Scully's faith and Mulder's reaction to it in light of the circumstances. I used a snippet of dialogue from Three Words, but obviously I don't own the characters or The X-Files. I hope you enjoy!
She was crying. She didn't cry often, not in front of him anyway (or anyone else for that matter). It usually took a death encounter or a sudden realization of reality for tears to come spilling out of her light blue eyes. This time, it was something different. This time, she was crying because of him.
She stood before him, her hands covering her face and her head down as if in defeat. Mulder laid his coat down on the desk. Blinking back his own tears, he wrapped his arms around her.
"Dana," he began gently, "It'll be okay. I'll be back in no time." She shook her head against his chest.
"I can't shake this feeling, Mulder," she whispered, "that something terrible is going to happen. I know it's not logical…but I'm still afraid."
"I'm afraid too," he admitted. "Not for my sake but for yours." He leaned back, cupping his hand under her chin and gazing into her eyes. "Go home, Scully. Get some rest and don't worry about me. I'll be fine." Scully nodded, one hand clinging to his wrist, the other brushing away the tears that were still threatening to spill. Mulder kissed her forehead, then, donning his coat, started for the door.
"Mulder," Scully said suddenly, an urgent note to her voice. Mulder stopped, concerned. She fiddled with the clasp of her necklace; it glinted in the low light of their basement office. After loosening it, she crossed the room towards him.
"I want you to wear this," she said quietly.
"Scully, I couldn't take –"
"Please. I may not physically be there with you, but at least you'll have this." Mulder nodded at her words, accepting her gift. She fastened the necklace around his neck, her arms resting on his shoulders. Her lips brushed his, and she kissed him softly. "Be careful," she whispered after pulling away.
"I'm always careful," he replied playfully. She smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead.
That's how he left her, standing in the middle of their office with a small, sad smile upon her face, tear stains on her cheeks, and her arms wrapped around her waist. Mulder closed his eyes as the elevator doors closed. He fingered the cross that hung around his neck. He had never considered himself to be a 'praying man.' He didn't even know if he really believed in God's active presence in Creation. That day, however, he prayed, and, when he walked off the plane onto Oregon soil, he felt at peace. Whatever the future might bring for him and Scully both, he knew it would be alright.
"I prayed a lot. And my prayers have been answered." Scully stood before him, the remains of a smile still gracing her face.
"In more ways than one," he replied, his eyes flitting to her pregnant form. He forced himself to smile.
"Yeah," Scully agreed. She looked down.
"I'm happy for you," Mulder rambled. "I think I know…how much this means to you." Guilt coursed through him as he realized how insensitive his words must seem. He found it hard to meet her gaze. Scully looked at him, her eyes wet with unshed tears.
"Mulder…" she started.
"I'm sorry," he interrupted, "I don't mean to be cold or ungrateful. I just…have no idea where I fit in. Right now. I just, uh…I'm having a little trouble…processing…everything." He looked away from her. She was silent. Mulder felt as if he could stab himself.
Here she was, bursting with excitement and relief that he was alive, and here he was, unable to come to terms with what had happened over the past six months and that the child she was carrying could only be his. He was hurting her, and he hated himself for it.
"I'm sorry, Scully. Just give me time," he finished weakly. She nodded, clearly hurt but willing to give him that time nonetheless. She cleared her throat.
"Well, I should be getting on. I told my mother I'd be by for dinner, so I should probably go…" she trailed off.
"Before you go, I've got something to give back to you," Mulder told her. He reached into his pocket, pulling her necklace out. It glinted in the late afternoon sunlight. He heard her breath catch in her throat. He stood up, crossing the room and closing the space between them.
"Back to you," he said quietly, "safe and sound." He pushed her hair out of the way, fastening the necklace around her neck where it belonged. She reached to touch it, a few tears escaping and running down her cheek.
"Thank you," she whispered, pulling him into an embrace. He hugged her as tight as he dared, trying to convey everything he could not put into words just then into that embrace. She seemed to understand, for she buried her head in his shoulder, unwilling to let go.
Eventually she stepped back. "Get some rest," she instructed, her hand clasped in his, "I'll see you tomorrow." He smiled genuinely.
"See you then." He closed the door gently behind her. He walked into the kitchen, thoughtful. I prayed a lot. And my prayers have been answered. Mulder remembered how he had prayed for their safety before he left for Oregon and the peace that had accompanied him after. He had felt that everything would be fine no matter what happened, and, he supposed, that his prayer had been answered as well. He smiled. Maybe God did care about them, and, maybe, just maybe, miracles really did happen.
