disclaimer: the x-files do not belong to me, i'm simply borrowing characters and situations for recreational purposes and my immense enjoyment.
~Later that Night~
"Scully?" Mulder asked after cautiously knocking on the door. She was sitting up in bed, her white v-neck falling dangerously low on her bra-less chest, but that's not why he was there. Timid and unsure, he stood in the doorway even after she had turned on the lamp and put on her glasses. Scully was desperately trying to recover from the very friendly dream she was having about the man in front of her. It started off quite similarly, actually. One look at his disheveled posture, though, and she knew that that wasn't even in the realm of possibility.
"Mulder? What's wrong?" she asked, moving slightly on the bed and patting the spot next to her. He took her up on her invitation, laying next to her on top of the covers.
"I'm sorry, I know it's late. But, I can't sleep and it's because of what you said earlier."
"What did I say earlier?"
"You asked me about my family, and I totally blew you off."
"Don't worry about that. I don't expect you to tell me anything you don't want to."
He gave her a playful stare. Are you kidding me?
"No, I do owe you something. I mean, you've given me so much of yourself, even though I know it's not easy for you. You've let me be a part of your daughter's life… I definitely owe you some information about my family."
"Are you sure?" she asked, knowing he was about to give it to her.
"Positive."
"Okay, I'm listening."
"Umm, I grew up in Chilmark, Massachusetts. Martha's Vineyard. My dad worked for the State Department and my mom was able to stay at home. It was just them and me, and my little sister Samantha."
Scully's ears perked up at this. He had never mentioned a sister before.
"We were pretty well-off growing up. My mom's parents had owned their own tea company before they died, and my mom sold it not long after she inherited it. Plus my dad's family had been wealthy for generations. So it was… nice, I guess. Not exactly comfortable. They weren't around a whole lot.
"But Samantha and I were pretty close. She was four years younger than me, so I always felt that I needed to protect her. Our house wasn't the happiest in the neighborhood by any means, but when I was looking out for her, I felt like I was serving my purpose. She was an amazing kid."
Was. Without breaking his gaze, Scully reached for his hand.
"When I was twelve and Sam was eight, she was abducted from our home while our parents were at the neighbors'. I was supposed to be watching her, but we had gotten into an argument," tears were filling his eyes, but he still managed to smirk, "about what to watch on TV. TV, Scully, my last words to my sister were about what to watch on TV. We were on the floor, playing Stratego, and the next minute we're fighting over the TV. So she storms upstairs to her room. A half hour later, I go up there so we can finish the game and she was gone."
Mulder was sobbing now, quite uncontrollably. Under the circumstances, Scully provided as much comfort as she could. But she was shocked. How this man, her best friend, had suffered throughout his life living with the fact that his sister had gone missing under his care made her extremely upset for him. She moved his head to her lap, stroking his hair and his cheek gently while he clung to her hand with both of his for dear life.
"I thought she was just messing with me. But I couldn't find her anywhere. Then I noticed that her bedroom window had been popped back into place the wrong way and that's when I knew…"
"Oh Mulder. Oh Mulder," Scully cooed softly, tears running down her cheeks as well. They rocked slowly.
"The police considered me a suspect for a long time. That killed me, because I was already feeling so guilty. And my parents weren't any comfort. My mom basically made a break from reality that night and my dad never stopped blaming me for what happened. For two years the investigation kept up, but nothing more was ever discovered. During that time, my father…" Mulder gulped, not sure if he was ready to pull from the emotions that he had so masterfully repressed, "became an alcoholic. And when he was drunk, even sometimes when he wasn't, he would hit me," the last part he said in almost a whisper, as if saying it any louder would transport him back to that period of his life.
"Why didn't your mom stop him?" Scully asked, inhaling sharply with her emotions.
"I don't think she cared. I don't know. She took a lot of pain pills. When I was 15 she told my father that she had been cheating on him for almost their entire marriage. Some guy he worked with. He moved out, so at least the beatings stopped. But I didn't really have anyone, it was like I was an afterthought. Thank God I was old enough to feed myself because I don't know if she would have."
"Mulder," Scully wept, never having imagined that Mulder's life had been like this. Never having imagined the pain this man went through, yet how he was able to bring so much joy to her. It was Mulder's turn to be comforting, sitting up and cupping her cheek in his hand.
"I didn't tell you this story so that you could feel sorry for me. I hate other peoples' pity. That's why I don't tell a lot of people about my childhood, even though so much of what I do now is because of what I went through. But you deserve to know, Dana."
"I'm happy that you trust me, but I don't want you to feel like you owe me something," Scully said, knowing that there were still things about her past that she couldn't reveal to him.
"After all that we've shared; after what we've become to each other, I just couldn't keep it to myself much longer."
She gave him a small smile that she hoped to look sympathetic, but really was a reflection upon herself. Here they were, laying in bed together, him telling her how much he trusted her and all of these things that she deserved to know; yet she felt the need to keep her secrets still. He had passed every test, broken through every wall, but Scully didn't want to relive the situation she was in not many months ago herself. Telling Mulder, that would bring it back in a way that she wasn't ready to accept at that moment. And while she knew her secrets were on his mind, she hoped that he could understand. Like so many others, she hoped he didn't throw up his hands and give up on her.
But she could understand if he did. She always understood why they did.
Exhausted from their outbursts, Mulder and Scully lay still in the bed, entangled in each other. It wasn't a bad way to fall asleep. But as they did, Scully was sure to whisper something to her friend, not sure if he would hear it or not.
"I'm sorry Mulder."
don't hate me for changing the mytharc.
