I let it fall, my heart,
And as it fell, you rose to claim it
It was dark and I was over
Until you kissed my lips and you saved me

My hands, they're strong
But my knees were far too weak
To stand in your arms
Without falling to your feet

-"Set Fire to the Rain", Adele

Just before eight, Mulder awoke and quietly disentangled himself from a still-sleeping Scully. He smoothed her hair and smiled down at her as she slept. She was so exhausted; he hoped she slept at least for another hour before she woke up.

Mulder crept quietly into the kitchen. He pulled out all the fixings to brew coffee, figuring he'd figure out breakfast whenever Scully woke up. Peering outside at the sunshine, he thought maybe they could go out to brunch if she were up to it.

Five minutes later, Mulder escaped down the hall to his study. He flicked on the lamp in the corner by the doorway and gave it a satisfied grin. His study was his favorite room in the whole house, and not really because it was his, per se. It just had a good feel to it. The room was the smallest bedroom in their four-bedroom home. There was a huge window across from the doorway. Just in front of the doorway was Mulder's desk that he and Scully had found one weekend when they went antiquing in Steamboat Springs. The wood was an aged mahogany, the desk itself quite simple in design. The desk held his laptop, a desk lamp, and miscellaneous papers that often drove Scully nuts. Mulder liked his organized chaos.

The wall to his left had a bookshelf that went from the floor to the ceiling. Every shelf filled with various books, some of which the Gunmen had mailed to him, from his apartment. The both of them had basically left their places with everything they owned when they left DC nearly ten years ago. Mulder kept in touch with the Gunmen who hooked him up with a secure line at their place and taught him how to encrypt emails.

Mulder carefully sat his coffee on the desk next to his laptop, and plopped down into his leather desk chair. His eyes ran over the greyish blue sofa on the wall before him, its edge just touching the woodwork of the doorway. He smiled. While the room was his for him to work and write, Scully often found herself in his study too. Many quiet afternoons were spent in there, Mulder tapping away at his computer, while Scully lay on the sofa, reading a book on her Kindle, which Mulder had gotten her for her birthday the year before last

A grin tugged at Mulder's lips, recalling the fondest memory of all in his study. Just a few months ago, he was sitting on his sofa, paging through a magazine, when Scully came home early from work. Several hours early, in fact. Surprising Mulder, she crept into his study, and crawled right on top of him, straddling him and snatching his magazine and tossing it on the floor – along with her clothes.

Life was vastly different than it had been before. Moreover, when Mulder thought of how he imagined their life would be together, it played out much differently than what he'd imagined. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing. He and Scully lived a quiet life. They spent time enjoying each other – when Scully had the time.

When they first settled in Denver, after fleeing Washington, it was a matter of weeks before Scully was in a residency for general surgery. Mulder of course wanted Scully to do whatever she'd wanted, whatever made her happy. But a surgeon's hours were even worse than the hours they kept at the Bureau.

The truth of the matter was, he missed her. They lived a quiet life that was paradoxically "go, go, go," because of Scully's schedule. It's been like this for nearly a decade. He supposed he didn't get much of a say so in it, it would be hypocritical of him to say anything to her about it. Prior to fleeing DC together, he left (though not voluntarily, of course) Scully and was gone for the better part of two years, while Scully was pregnant, alone. Mulder hadn't gotten any time to be as attached to William, as Scully was. Then they gave him up so that he could live a better life than the life that they led, running from the consortium.

Mulder thought about William often. About their life in Washington, about Scully's mother, the gunmen… hell, even Skinner. A few years back, he and Scully fought about it, when they returned to help with a case. Scully wanted nothing to do with it. She wanted to never return to "the darkness". He promised when they got back they'd leave again. Instead, they stayed in Denver, and Scully just worked.

As a trained psychologist, he couldn't place his finger on the reason why Scully worked the way she did. Of course she's always had a great work ethic – that wasn't what he meant. What he meant was, she worked in a way that was unhealthy. He wasn't sure if she was just trying to escape thinking about William and her family or if she was punishing herself for the choices she made by not allowing herself to enjoy this side of their life.

What he did know was they never had the opportunity to let the dust settle since they'd left and started over in Denver. And they were approaching a new set of darkness if she didn't slow down and just live and enjoy living. He wasn't sure they could weather that darkness or not.

He knew that their relationship was solid, and he'd never been happier in his life than being with Scully in the way he'd wanted to be with her, for so long. He was worried about her. And to see her come home, melting down in the middle of the night over Madison Enzo, and in turn, reliving William and Emily… it broke Mulder's heart. It wasn't fair to her.

The first darkness, the darkness in Washington… that was Mulder's fault. Well, not entirely, but it was Mulder, combined with the consortium, corruption at the Bureau, and the nature of their work in general. But this time Mulder had positive control.

What they needed was a change of venue.

Mulder sipped his coffee and opened the lid to his laptop. He listened as it lit up and began to hum, coming to life. Once it was done starting up, he tapped a few different search terms into Google.

He was thinking about Europe. Mulder had remembered his Oxford days, going on holiday every other month to a new country. Europe was accessible, romantic, and peaceful. He thought it would be the perfect place to go for a while to focus on themselves. A place to heal.

Scully's eyes fluttered open. She stretched, arching her back, and rolling over onto her stomach. She felt well rested, a feeling she'd not felt in quite some time. Sitting up, she glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand on her side of the bed.

"Eleven o'clock?" she muttered out loud.

Jesus.

She pushed the covers aside as she got out of bed, padding barefoot over to their dresser. She opened the third drawer and fished out a pair of short pajama shorts. Sliding them on, she closed the drawer quietly and wandered off to find Mulder.

His study door was halfway open, and she leaned in, placing a hand on either side of the doorframe. Mulder hadn't noticed her yet, so she thought she'd stop to watch him work. He was reading intently at something on his computer screen, pausing every so often to scribble something on a pad of paper.

After several moments, Mulder finally did look up and grinned at her.

God she'd missed him.

"Good morning," he said, closing the lid to his laptop.

"Good morning yourself," she said coyly.

"There's coffee on the warmer, I made it a couple hours ago, if you want to get some."

"Okay," she said, disappearing into the kitchen.

Mulder heard her move about in the kitchen efficiently for a couple minutes. Then she returned to his study, coffee in hand, and sank into his couch.

Scully looked back at Mulder, not recognizing the expression on his face. She cocked an eyebrow at him.

"What is it?" she asked, sipping her coffee.

Mulder sighed. He didn't know how to go about this conversation but he knew they needed to have it.

"Scully, I miss you."

She smiled into her mug. "I missed you too, love."

Mulder frowned. "No, what I meant to say was, I miss YOU. I miss you all the time. And last night, seeing you so upset Scully… it tore me up in a way I can't explain. I know what goes through your mind every time you get close to one of those children. Scully, the way things are – it doesn't have to be like this."

Scully was quiet for a moment, not expecting this conversation at all.

"I… I have the next three days off?" she offered, not sure what to say.

"Until when, Scully? Next month?"

She sank further down into the couch. This conversation was a long time coming… several years in fact.

"Tell me Scully, what is it you get out of being there?" he asked quietly. "You can't say it's the paycheck when neither of us have to work basically for the rest of our lives. So tell me, what keeps you there, day in and day out?"

Scully struggled for words. She didn't know why she went. She knew she liked staying busy because it kept her mind of the darkness that nearly swallowed them whole in DC. She missed her mother.

"I'm scared to be happy, Mulder," she said, after awhile. "We haven't really talked about anything from before. We just kept moving, and that felt safe."

"Scully we can't just keep forgetting about our entire lives. This will bury us."

She bit her lip. He was right, of course.

"Before, I had William, but I didn't have you. Now we've made it to this side… I don't have William but I have you. It's like I am not allowed to be fully happy, like I've got some sort of debt to society I still have to pay."

Mulder made to speak, but Scully continued instead.

"I'm so scared of losing you too, that I just try not to rock the boat. Mulder, if I didn't have you, I wouldn't have anything."

"Scully, I'm right here, I've been right here for the past ten years, and I'm not going anywhere any time soon."

She swiped at a stray tear running down her cheek. She was run down. The dread that filled her when she thought of returning to work was inexplicable. But this was every time she thought about it though… so she just stopped thinking entirely.

"I guess I've been on autopilot all this time," she said, glumly. "I'm sorry, Mulder. Our life together was supposed to be happy."

At that, Mulder got up from his desk and joined Scully on the sofa. He pulled her to him, sitting her mug on the floor. He placed a chaste kiss on her forehead, her eyes closing at the contact.

"I'm not unhappy Scully. I love you and we are together, and that is enough for me," he started, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. "But you aren't happy, and I know you aren't. I want to make you happy, Scully, if you'll let me."

God how she loved this man. "I want you to," she whispered. "Because I don't think I know how to let myself be happy."

He hugged her to him. They have been through so much, all these years. It was their time.