Authors Note

Ok, here's my next story. It's a one-shot and is called "Serious Injuries".

Spoilers for up to season 5 "Redux II"

Set during Redux/Redux II

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.

"Mulder?"

"The one and only." Mulder replied, smiling slightly. He took her recognition of him as an invite, and entered the hospital room. Scully pushed herself up from her bed to greet him. Propping herself up on her elbows, she silently regarded the man in front of her. Mulder seemed to look slightly defeated, his shoulders slumped and a frown playing on his lips.

"Mulder, what's wrong?" Scully asked, her eyes narrowing in concern. At her gentle enquiry, Mulder smiled and produced a bouquet of flowers from behind his back. Scully wasn't fooled, however. He was trying to use the flowers as a distraction, but his fixed smile wasn't convincing her in the slightest.

"Nothing, Scully," He replied, gently placing the flowers on the table provided. She uttered a small "thankyou" before looking back up at him. He continued, "I'm fine."

"You look as if someones died-" No sooner had the words left her mouth, that she regretted them instantly, "I'm sorry."

She caught a pained look on Mulder's face, before he quickly replaced it with a softer expression, "No need to be sorry Scully, you know that. You're the one who is ill."

"I don't feel it," Scully assured him, gesturing for Mulder to have a seat. He did so eagerly, pulling the chair forward so it was right next to her bed, "I feel completely healthy Mulder."

"But you're not."

The statement left her speechless. For moments, she sat in stunned silence by his abrupt comment. It was true, but Scully was reluctant to admit it to herself. She was ill. In fact, she was dying. There was no way around it, and if Mulder had accepted that she was ill, then so should she.

"Mulder, I-"

Mulder placed a finger to her lips, silencing her immediately. Cautiously, he took hold of her hand, and lightly rubbed her knuckles. He was assuring her, through physical actions, that she was going to be fine. Mulder has never been good at words, Scully thought, smiling slightly, but he makes up for that with gestures. Such as now.

"I didn't come here to remind you of your mortality Scully," He said softly, his hand encompassing her own small one, "I came because I chose to. I cherish the moments, when we can just talk."

"Is it strange that these moments only seem to come when one of us is sick or seriously injured?" Scully smiled wryly, squeezing his hand reassuringly, "not that I have anything against these chats Mulder, just that they seem to be at the most morbid of times."

Mulder responded to her comment with a small laugh. His eyes glittered with amusement, and Scully felt herself smiling along with him. Only he seemed to be able to make her smile like that. Mulder noticed her smiling, and felt slightly proud of himself that he had brought that out of her, on a hospital bed of all places.

The last thought sobered him up, and his laughter stopped. He did, however, keep smiling, not letting himself be dragged down into the dark thoughts that threatened to consume him.

"Maybe I should pick better circumstances next time?" He asked jokingly, his grip still tight on her hand.

"I think, the circumstances being as they are, now is a good a time as any." Scully replied seriously, staring at Mulder intently.

He appeared slightly shaken by her last remark, but did not let it show too much. Still smiling slightly, Scully took time to look at the man beside her. His tie hung limp around his neck, as if it had lost the will to look smart. He was unshaven, and had bags under his eyes. Mulder looked both tired and hungry, his face betraying the emotions he was feeling.

Scully sighed inwardly. He was no doubt feeling guilty about her illness. No matter how many times she had assured him of his innocence, he still took the blame upon his shoulders for it.

"Can't sleep?"

"No, I can't."

"You didn't cause this Mulder." She spoke quietly, cautious that by speaking any louder, she'd somehow break the weakened man next to her.

"I did," Mulder's words were filled with emotion, and when he glanced up at her, Scully could see tears form in his eyes, "maybe I wasn't the one who took you, injected you with this poison that is ravaging your body-" Scully winced at his choice of words, "-but I am to blame. They're doing this to you, because of me."

"No Mulder," she said harshly, her expression now serious, "they did this because they are sick human beings. They did this because they wanted a lab rat. They did this because I learned too much. One man could not cause this, Mulder. This is the culmination of years of work, years of men playing God, giving and taking life as they please. This, Mulder, has nothing to do with you, or your search for the truth."

Mulder stared in admiration at Scully. Here was a woman who was dying, and yet she sat there, calm and calculated, giving him strength, speaking with such determination and vigour, that he forgot the reason they were sitting in a hospital to begin with.

"Scully," He whispered brokenly, placing his head down on her bed. His forehead touched the cool fabrics of her sheet, and he inhaled her scent. He felt safe, "I can't do this without you."

"Yes, you can Mulder. You always have been able to, even now. I was assigned to your office to debunk your work. Instead, I have come out of this with more questions than answers. I have seen things that I-" She gestured to herself half-heartedly. Her eyes glittered with unshed tears, "-have not been able to explain. Things that I'm not even sure can be explained. And yet, I don't feel as if I have failed my assignment. I think I have succeeded, just in a different way to what the Bureau wanted me to succeed."

Mulder kept quiet during her short speech, slowly rubbing her hand still. He pulled himself upwards, and noticed that a tear made its way down Scully's cheek. He brought his hand up and wiped it away, cradling her face.

"You have succeeded Scully," He assured her, softly, "you have kept me grounded these past five years. Your focus and determinism have made sure that I am still here, alive, today. I owe you my life, so many times, Scully, and it doesn't seem right that I'm not the one in that bed now."

With that he slowly pulled himself up, and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. He followed it up, placing a kiss on her forehead, and then finally a chaste kiss on her lips. When he moved away, he saw more tears making their way down her face. She gave him a watery smile, before slowly taking his hand in hers again.

"Mulder?"

"Yeah Scully?"

"Thankyou."

"Any time."

He slowly left the room, lingering at the door to make sure she was still there, breathing and smiling. She glanced up at him, and smiled, her eyes alight with affection. He returned the smile and left.

After he was gone, Scully slowly brought her hands up to her lips, where he had kissed her. She sighed, and brushed the forming tears away. Why was it that they only showed such affection when one was sick or seriously injured?

If I pull through this, Scully thought, determined, then I'll make sure to bring it up again. With that, she slowly lowered herself and closed her eyes, falling into a peaceful slumber.

A/N: Like, it? Don't like it? Don't be scared to tell me. It would be nice to hear your thoughts on this piece.