2012
He took another clipping and looked around the room. Where would he put it? There were too many things spread around already, pinned to boards, glued on the walls, spread over books he never read anymore, over chairs he didn't use, over the desktop computer Scully used when she needed to do some research for her work or simply when she wanted to hang out. It was true things were a little bit weird between them, but the computer was still there, and she was still coming down here when she had a chance.
Things had started being strange between them after the new year, when he realized they were entering the year that would change everything, the year which would mark the final alien invasion. December 22nd, that was what he had seen back in 2002, when he was arrested and then sentenced to death by lethal injection. There was no reason for him to doubt that information because, after all, his death sentence itself was an indication that he knew too much. But Scully had always doubted it, had always said that, even if it were true, there was absolutely nothing they could do, especially because they were fugitives hiding from the FBI and from everyone else that could help them.
She was right then, as always, but now… The word going around the UFO community was strong and, with the information he provided, they were able to dig quite a lot of information on what might be happening on the date he saw in that government facility those many years ago. They had places where things were going to happen according to the government's inside sources, places where they needed to go to hide if they wanted to survive and fight back, people with whom everyone should talk to in order to plan a resistance group before it was too late.
He was so invested in all of it, so obsessed with every bit of information, that he barely slept anymore, he barely ate, barely shaved, barely did anything else other than sit by his computer and plan how to save the world or run away from the alien colonists. His morning runs with Scully didn't happen anymore, they never went out to dinners anymore, he never accompanied her to her family lunches anymore (he missed Maggie, but Bill would always be there to put him down anyway, so why would he bother going?) and they hardly ever even slept together anymore, only in the rare occasions when she got home earlier and was able to seduce him out of his office.
He missed her, he missed her a lot, and she was right in front of him, still living under the same roof as he did, still sleeping on the same bed he was supposed to be sleeping in, still eating the same food he was eating – no, that was a lie, he mostly survived on junk food these days – still sitting on the same couch as he did, but never at the same time. How had this happened? But she understood, right? She had to. After all, it was their future he was trying to ensure. He made a mental note to do something for her when she came back home tonight, maybe order food from that restaurant she liked or maybe they could watch a movie together. Maybe both. That would give them some time to catch up on things. How long had it been since she had last told him about her day? He was suddenly hopeful for tonight and he realized he had not only missed her, but he had also missed being hopeful. He also hoped this sudden excitement would last more than five minutes because good feelings never came and stayed with him for too long these days.
He didn't know when exactly that had started happening, but it was as if, suddenly, someone had turned off the lights and left him in complete darkness, and he had to make his way through it. He was used to darkness, that much was true, but his darkness moments before had never been this dark. He had always found a way of letting light in before, there was always someone out there making sure light got in, always someone who was light herself. Why wasn't he letting her in anymore?
He was also sensing a change in her behavior, albeit small. She was coming home less and less these days, always saying she was too busy at the hospital to come back home and then go all the way back, that she would be too tired on her next shift and that she couldn't afford risking a patient's life over her being able to come home. He always believed her, of course, but now he was starting to think that he didn't really care when she didn't come back, almost as if he had taken for granted, almost as if he was sure she would eventually come back when work got less busy and complicated. But what if she got tired one day? What if that day was today? What if she didn't come home tonight so they could watch that movie and eat that food and talk about her day?
He had to start paying more attention to her, he had to make an effort. It was hard enough that she didn't believe that the end was really near, but thinking that their end was also near destroyed him, broke his heart into a thousand million pieces, sent thoughts to his head he had never had before. Because what did he have in life aside from her? Living without her would be like living without his own heart. Was it even worth it?
A sound came from his computer and he turned on his chair using his feet as a boost so that the small wheels of the chair could carry him towards the computer. The message that had come in said that they had found the perfect place to hide, a place made of magnetite, a place where super soldiers couldn't touch them. Of course, that would only be helpful in case the invasion they were expecting was, in fact, an invasion by super soldiers, those alien-human hybrids that were slowly infiltrating mankind and that would implement their final part of their plan on December 22nd. Since there was nothing to indicate it would happen in a different way, that was their safest bet until now. He had to tell Scully when she came back. She would have enough time to invent something to get her away from her job, so they could go and hide until everything was over or at least until they could find a way of fighting back accordingly. They could work out a story that would be plausible enough and then they would be safe. Yes, that's what they were going to do.
But there was Maggie too, she surely wouldn't want to leave her behind. That would be a little tricky, because how could they convince Maggie to come along? Of course, she knew her daughter and he worked with things they could not talk about most of the time, but she didn't know anything about conspiracies or alien invasions. Even after William, even after being through a lot herself, she didn't know anything more than the general public did. He and Scully would have to find a way of getting Maggie to run with them, so they had to start thinking about it soon.
He looked at the clock on his wall and saw that she was late. She usually came home a little earlier on Thursdays to make up for the extra hours she stayed on Wednesdays, the days when she helped a surgeon out with a new project of his. She had told him what the project was, but he couldn't remember right now. Maybe he hadn't paid enough attention.
He clicked the reply button on the message and thanked his source for the info, saying he would be online later to discuss the details and help them form a plan. He looked at the clock again and saw that the hour hand hadn't changed, the minute hand hadn't changed, and the second hand seemed to be moving slower than usual. But where was Scully? He thought of calling her, but he didn't want her answering the phone in case she was already on her way back. The roads could be quite dangerous, and he didn't want her to be involved in an accident because of him. He couldn't lose her, he wouldn't.
He felt his heart race at the thought and realized that, once again, his mind had taken him too far and he was already seeing car crashes and ambulances in his head. The thing about having bad thoughts was that it was like a chain reaction – once you had one, several others followed, and he could never stop them if he didn't try and focus on something else. His brain would go on and on and on and on, like a broken record playing loudly on his ears. He needed to stop, he needed to focus on something else. The clock still showed only three minutes had passed since the last time he had looked. He cursed time for being so linear, or at least that humans had such a linear perception of time. He hated being human sometimes.
Focus on something else, Mulder. Focus. Focus.
His eyes focused on the newspaper clipping he was trying to find a place for, which was now resting beside the computer keyboard. Oh yes, he had forgotten to find a place for it! Where would he put it? He used to have a system for all the clippings, one board consisting of alien-related stuff, another consisting of monsters, another consisting of missing persons who had disappeared in unusual circumstances, and so on. But he had been so caught up, so obsessed with finding things he could investigate along the years of solitude, of hiding in this house, that his walls were now a mess, and there were things related to every topic just spread around, like some weird-looking art that had absolutely no pattern and absolutely no reason. Why had he started it all again? He couldn't even remember anymore. Maybe his office was a reflection of his mind, in a way.
He stood up, feeling the weight of his body on his left knee. He was not overweight, at least not yet, but he had gained a lot of weight anyway and parts of his body were starting to complain. Also, he was not 20 anymore, so his age also had some influence in all that too.
He started walking around, examining every little clipping to see if there was a space somewhere. He passed by Samantha's picture and smiled. He often wondered if there was an afterlife and if they would meet again someday. He hoped so. He missed her so much!
He found no empty spaces near her picture, so he kept on walking. He soon reached a picture of him and Scully, one they had taken that day on the beach when they were running away from the darkness. He took it off the wall and held it in his hands, smiling widely now. She looked so peaceful, so happy in the picture, that he wondered if he could make her smile like that again one day. He missed that sparkle in her eyes.
He put the picture back on the wall, wondering if it wouldn't be better to find a frame for it and put it somewhere else, not among the monsters and the ghosts and the overall cruelty plastered along those walls. Yes, it was probably best. He put it down and made a mental note to try and find a nice frame for it and then choose a happier place to put it. He believed that store they sometimes went to had nice frames. He would go there tomorrow morning, before Scully left for the hospital so that he could use her car. When was the last time he had driven? When was the last time he had left the house? He couldn't actually remember. How had he become this person?
He shook his head, trying not to think about it too much, then picking up the clipping and pinning it up on the wall in the place where the picture had been just moments ago. Just as he made sure the clipping was firmly pinned, he heard the front door open. Scully was okay, nothing had happened, she might just have been in traffic. Thank God. He laughed at the fact that he didn't actually believe in God, but these expressions were so common and so used by Scully that he ended up using them too. It was funny to see how she influenced him even in such small things.
He waited for his office door to open but, instead of hearing footsteps towards his office, he heard her go up the stairs. Was something wrong?
He placed their picture together onto the computer keyboard and then left the office, going upstairs to find her.
When he reached their bedroom, she was taking off her coat, her back turned to him, her gaze lost somewhere outside the window.
"Scully, is everything okay?"
His voice was hoarse for not having been used all day.
She turned suddenly, and he saw he had startled her. She was clearly not expecting him to be there.
"Hey Mulder. Yes, everything's okay. Why do you ask?"
"You didn't come see me after you got in, so I thought something might have happened."
Her mouth opened but no sound came out of it. She looked shocked and he knew she was having a hard time translating her thoughts into words by the way she licked her lips. Then, she sighed and looked at her feet for a few moments, before looking up at him again. She dropped her coat onto the bed and took a deep breath before speaking.
"Mulder, I haven't been to your office in at least a month, not even when I come back from work. Did you not notice?"
Her face was a mix of shock, indignation and sadness.
His words got caught in his throat. What could he say after this shocking realization? The truth was that no, he had not noticed.
He might have shown it with his eyes, though, because she shook her head, as if telling him it was not important. Her gaze fell to her feet again as she looked for something to say.
It didn't use to be that way, their silences used to be much more comfortable than this. Now it felt like they had to try hard to find a common topic, as if they were two strangers who had known each other for 20 years.
Luckily, he had planned that dinner thing along with that movie thing, so that would save the room from awkward silence for a moment.
"I was thinking that maybe we could order food from that Indian restaurant you like?"
She smiled weakly at him and then closed her eyes, nodding, as if thinking something she was not letting out.
"And maybe then we could watch a movie? I don't know what we have at home, but there might be something on pay-per-view."
She opened her eyes again, pleasantly surprised this time.
"That would be nice, Mulder. I just have to take a shower first, is that okay with you?"
He nodded and for the first time in he didn't know how long, he felt his heart warm and he smiled.
Then he turned around and went downstairs to order them food.
He dialed the restaurant's number and ordered their usual plus a dessert he knew she liked.
He thought of going back to his office and continuing what he was doing while he waited, but he knew how he tended to get caught up in things and forget about everything else. He didn't want that to happen tonight.
So, he sat down on the couch and waited, switching channels to see if anything called his attention. He just stopped switching when the food arrived and he had to get up to answer the door. He felt restless again for some unexplained reason.
Scully came down the stairs wearing her casual clothes just a little after he closed the door and she smiled at him, a true smile this time. It was good to see her face brighten up again like that. Now that he thought of it, it had been a long time since he saw her do that.
She walked to the kitchen and got them plates, and she watched, pleased, as he transferred the food from the boxes to their respective plates.
They ate in silence, a silence that bothered him a little, but that was a little less awkward than the one in their bedroom. When they were almost done eating, he looked over at her and decided to be the first to break it.
"How was your day?"
He saw her frown, as if she was finding strange that he was asking. Had he been that careless? Most importantly, how long had he been that careless?
She finished chewing the portion that was in her mouth before answering.
"It was good. There's this new kid that came in, with the same syndrome Christian had. You remember Christian, right?" As he nodded, she continued. "So, it looks like it's going to be a challenge, but we are hopeful."
He knew this 'we' she was referring to was the surgeon she was assisting, but he couldn't help being a little jealous. His name was Paul and, as far as he knew, he was single. He tried not to think about it too much, but sometimes his brain wouldn't leave it alone. What if she fell in love with him one day? What if one of his nightmares came true, eventually? What if she left him? Focus on something else, Mulder. Focus. Focus.
He nodded as he heard her finish her sentence about the course of treatment and he was glad she apparently hadn't realized he wasn't paying attention to anything other than what had been going on inside his head.
"And how was your day?" She asked back, and he didn't know if she was just asking out of politeness or because she really wanted to know. She knew he had stopped writing altogether, that he was stuck with his current obsession with humanity's impending doom and that it was the only thing he cared about these days. He felt kind of offended that she didn't care, if he was being honest, because she would be part of it all in no time if they were to survive. Which reminded him that he needed to tell her what he found out today.
"It was good, actually." He transferred some more food to his plate while he spoke, taking care not to let anything fall on the floor. "And, by the way, we will need to move soon. I got intel that tells me there's a safe place in Oregon, a place where we will be able to hide and probably survive all of this. We'll have to move fast, though, so we'll need some cover story for you to tell the hospital. And we also need to find a way of telling your mom to come with us. Do you think we can come up with something in a week?" He finished putting all the food he wanted on his plate and turned to look at her again.
Her face had changed from happy to incredulous. Her eyes were wet, but in that way where she wouldn't let the tears fall, as if she had some super power that could hold them in.
He waited for a response, but nothing came out of her mouth. She just stared at him, trying to communicate something with her eyes. He didn't know what it was, he couldn't read her eyes like he used to anymore, but he knew that what she was trying to say without words was not good at all. He felt like crying himself and he didn't even know why.
She closed her eyes and he saw the frustration all over her face. What was happening to them? Who were these people who went by Mulder and Scully (and occasionally Dana and Fox), but who looked nothing like the Mulder and Scully, the Dana and Fox that worked so well together for so long? Had they been unknowingly replaced by aliens? He couldn't recognize her anymore, he couldn't recognize himself.
She opened her eyes after a long time, as if only then she was sure her tears were not going to fall. When she spoke, her voice was low, but not at all calm. He could hear her unshed tears in them.
"Mulder, the world is not ending, there is no alien invasion. Please listen to what you're saying, it's insane! We've been through this before and, honestly, I'm getting tired. I'm getting tired of speaking and being met with deaf years. I'm tired of reaching out and not being noticed. I'm trying to help you, but I don't know how much longer I can take this. This darkness is too much for me."
Her chin wavered, and she covered her face with her hands. He reached for her thigh, touching it slightly. Before he could even say he was sorry, she stood up, making his hand drop to his side on the couch again. He had no idea what to do right now. He was lost, he was angry, he was sad, he was numb.
She walked past him towards the stairs but, before she could climb the first steps, she turned to him.
"Thanks for dinner, but that is not enough. I need you to change. I need you to want to change."
He watched in silence as she went upstairs again, and he could hear her sobs even when she closed the door to the bedroom. He thought of taking the plates and the remaining food to the kitchen, but he didn't feel like moving, he didn't feel like crying, he didn't feel like breathing. Her dessert was still untouched in the box, and she hadn't even seen the note he had asked the restaurant to write for her. It didn't matter now, he knew she had made up her mind and that she would only want to talk about this again in the morning, if she decided to talk about it at all instead of sweeping yet another thing under the rug that was already filled with an endless list of unspoken words.
It was not that he didn't want help, he just didn't feel like he needed help. Couldn't she see that? This was 2008 all over again – she wanted him to change, but he was just being who he had always been. Maybe he had changed a little, but not that much, right? Maybe she had fallen in love with the wrong Mulder, after all, with the Mulder she created in her head, a Mulder that didn't exist, that had never existed. Maybe the real Mulder had been invisible to her all along.
He let himself slowly lie on his side, using the arm of the couch as a pillow, although an uncomfortable one. As he closed his eyes he wished that the genie they had met all those years ago was still around, that she would magically appear in front of him and grant him three wishes. He could even choose only one, if he thought carefully. He would wish to go back in time, to a time when they were both still happy, it didn't matter much which time. Or maybe he would wish to not wake up the next morning. Yes, that might be a better wish. At least that way the pain would be gone, and he wouldn't have to worry about anything else anymore – not about aliens, not about the end of the world, not about Scully.
But since there were no genies around, he would just fall asleep in the couch, still wishing to not wake up the next morning.