Early January 2016
The fridge door closed, and Mulder sighed. He reached for the bottle opener and took the top off his beer. Dropping the cap on the table, he walked out to the porch and sat down in the chair. He slid down and leaned his head back, exhausted after the last couple of days.
He scrubbed a hand down his face and sighed, his mind still racing. So much happened in such a short amount of time, and he needed to stop and process it all. First and foremost, seeing Scully for the first time in so long had rattled him, and instead of being decent to her, he was an asshole. He knew it from the moment he saw her, but he was angry as much as he was happy.
After they spoke on Christmas, he did not answer her calls. She called a couple of times, but he let it go to voicemail and made no effort to call her back. He was angry at himself for something he did, and he took it out on her.
Every day since she left, he would reach for her when he woke up, believing she was there and forgetting she was not. After speaking to her on Christmas, he woke up the next morning and got out of bed without reaching for her. When he realized it, he broke down. Her voice was still echoing in his ear and he forgot, or was used to not finding her there, and it angered him as much as it hurt. He stopped accepting any calls after that, but she kept trying. He shook his head at his asshole ways.
After finally accepting a call from Scully, and hearing Skinner was looking for him, he agreed to meet the nut job Tad O'Malley. Of course he would not be going to meet him alone, but seeing her again still jarred him. As much as he wanted to kiss her and hold her, he acted aloof and distant. Wearing his sunglasses at their first meeting so she could not immediately see his eyes, pushing her buttons with his words, noting the way she looked at him, he knew exactly what he was doing.
Tad O'Malley and his charming bullshit, he thought, shaking his head. It was nice to see that Scully had not fallen for it, at least not with him around anyway. Had he tried with her in private? He closed his eyes at the thought of her driving around with chilled champagne ready at her disposal.
For better or worse, we've ... moved on with our lives.
Yes, we have. For better or for worse.
He sighed as he thought of her words and his response to them. Her sigh and quick glance his way, made him wonder if she had shared the same memory as him. Of a night years ago, the rain pouring down, their bodies slick with sweat, he whispered to her that he would love her for better or for worse. She laughed as she tried to catch her breath and then whispered it back to him. Her eyes shone in the moonlight, and while not a wedding, it felt like one. A promise had been made, though not binding by law. It did not stop him from asking and her refusing him each time or simply not answering, but they had an understanding.
Until they no longer did.
He knew his treatment of Sveta and his interest in her would grate on Scully's nerves, and yet he did it anyway. His interest was piqued and he jumped straight in, no thought to the past year of counseling or Mrs. Scully's warning voice in the back of his head. Sveta's tale grabbed him and did not let go.
Though it should not have, Scully's arrival at the house had surprised him. Of course she would check on him to make sure he was okay. She was still Scully, and she would forego any thoughts and feelings of awkwardness if it meant he was okay.
Watching her face as she stood on the porch with his hands on her shoulders, he saw it. He saw when she realized he was willing to jeopardize everything. To fall back into the darkness and not care how it affected them. She held his eyes, and he should have stopped right then, but he didn't because he needed to know. The evidence was there, he just needed to dig deeper.
You know what you're doing.
Her words held so much meaning. He was not just putting his health on the line, but risking them and that was unacceptable to her. She would not go through that again and so instead she tried to leave and walk away before she had to witness his downfall once more.
He could still hear her heels on the porch as she was leaving him again. He should have fought harder, followed her down the stairs and told her he was wrong. But he let her leave, unable to see past his own need to prove he was right, to find the truth at last.
When she sat in the car and looked at him, he remembered the dream he had of her handing him her heart and his inability to put it together. There she sat staring at him, in the flesh, and he was not even attempting to try and fix it this time. He was letting her leave and he knew, he knew, she would not be back this time. But the truth he sought for so long, what drove him for years, the possibility of finally getting answers was inside the house.
I shouldn't have come.
What are you up to, Mulder?
Her words settled inside his mind and he hated hearing the tone in which she said them. He knew that tone. It was the same tone he had heard years ago when they fought and yelled. Each time, her shoulders had slumped and her eyes filled with sadness. It was the same look she had now. She believed she was still second to his desire to learn the truth.
He thought of how she came back inside the house and listened to the wild story he, Tad, and Sveta were telling. Of course she did not believe it, not without proof, something tangible she could hold onto. He expected nothing less of her, and yet, after all that happened in their lives, why was it so hard for her to believe? To have faith in what he was saying and take it for what it was worth?
He sighed now, the days and thoughts taking their toll on him. He took another drink of his beer before leaning his head back again and closing his eyes. He was tired, but also too wired to sleep right now. After meeting with Skinner again, the plans to go back to the bureau after being away so long were underway. They would need to be recertified and sit through hours of orientation and training, which was not a difficult task, but just thinking about it made him feel exhausted.
And yet, he felt a stirring inside him, an awakening, as he was coming back to what he loved pursuing. Maybe this was what he needed, and by extension, what they needed. He took a deep breath and concentrated on the quiet around him.
His eyes popped open when he heard tires crunching on the gravel of the driveway. He looked over to see Scully driving up to the house. She parked, stared at him through the windshield, and with a sigh, she got out and headed up the steps. Leaning against the ledge of the porch, she dropped her keys next to her, crossed her arms and sighed.
"You look exhausted," he said, echoing her words from earlier.
"That … is a fair assessment of how I feel," she said in a tired voice.
"Hm. You want a beer?" he asked, starting to stand up.
"No. No thanks," she said with another sigh.
"What did the hospital have to say?" he asked, watching the exhaustion play across her face.
"Well, they were sorry to see me go, but crazily enough they understood that this was something I needed to do," she said, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Opening them, she stared at him. "We do have to do this, right? We really don't have a choice."
"I don't think we do, Scully."
"You know, I think I will take that beer," she sighed and he gave her a half smile. He stood up and went inside to grab her a beer from the fridge. He opened it and headed back with hers and a fresh one for himself.
She was sitting in the other chair, which she had dragged over to sit next to him, looking out across the yard. He handed her the bottle and she nodded her thanks. Sitting down next to her, he said nothing as they both took a couple pulls from their bottles.
She sighed again and he looked over at her. "We say we don't have a choice and we need to do this, but is it what you want, Mulder? Do you … after all this time away and … are you sure this will be … that you will be …?"
"Is anyone ever truly ready for what's thrown at them, Scully?" he asked quietly.
"You know what I mean, Mulder," she answered, just as quietly. He nodded his head and looked down at the porch.
"I do know what you mean. I understand your concern, I do," he told her, quietly still. He raised his head and looked at her. "I'm sorry for the past couple of days. I know that … that I was chasing after the monsters in the dark and not heeding your advice. I should've listened. You were right-"
"I'm sorry, I don't think I heard that properly. Could you repeat it?" she interrupted him. He smiled slightly and she returned it.
"You said I was on fire and running away with an idea, and you were right," he said and she took a drink of her beer with a satisfied expression. He shook his head and drank his own beer as he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. He again looked down at the porch. "I can't promise it won't happen again. You know me, Scully."
"I do."
Shaking his head, he looked up at her and she smiled softly at him. "I can promise you that I'll try. That's the best I can do … right now. I promise to try and …" he shook his head and again looked down at the porch.
"I can work with that," she whispered and he smiled. Sitting back, he looked at her and they came to an unspoken agreement. He nodded and she closed her eyes.
They sat in silence for a while, neither of them wanting or needing to say anything. He remembered so many nights when they sat out on the porch like this, usually she had a glass of wine, as he carried on about something or other. She would laugh, roll her eyes, and begin with her logical rebuttal.
Looking at her tonight, he knew they were far from those days. He could see how tired she was, knew how the past few days had taken a toll on her, but any words of compassion from him would be brushed aside right now. Instead he remained silent, happy in the knowledge she was there and they would soon be working together again.
She sighed again and opened her eyes, looking at him, her eyes searching his face. He smiled, and she scrunched her chin at him in that adorable way he loved.
"I should get going. It's late and I'm meeting my mom for lunch tomorrow. She's going to either hate or love this new plan for my life," she said with a chuckle. He laughed with her, imagining the phone call he would be getting tomorrow after said lunch.
"Scully, it's me. When has your mom ever been mad at me?" he said with a grin that caused her to shoot him a look as she stood up. She shook her head and brushed off her pants.
"I'd disagree with you, but it would be silly to do so since you're not wrong," she said with a sigh. He laughed and also stood, taking her beer bottle from her. It was a little less than half full, but she would not finish it, she rarely did. He should get some wine to have on hand, just in case.
"Well, tell your mom I said hello," he said, walking next to her to the stairs. She grabbed her car keys and nodded as she walked down the stairs. He hated seeing her leave, but knowing he would see her soon filled him with hope.
"Oh," she said, turning around and looking at him. "Skinner called and we have an appointment for a psych eval in three days, after that is the physical and then the weapon recertification. He seems keen to get us back quickly."
"You, maybe," he chortled, and she rolled her eyes.
"Mulder, don't sell yourself short. You know he cares about you," she rebuked him, stepping backwards toward the car.
"But I'm not as pretty as you," he said, feeling a bit ballsy and his heart pounded.
"Maybe not to Skinner," she teased, with a raise of her eyebrows, as she got in her car. He smiled and nodded, waving the hand that was not currently holding both beer bottles. She returned his smile and backed up her car and drove away.
He watched her tail lights until they were gone and then with a sigh, he went into the house. Taking the bottles to the sink, he finished hers and then rinsed them both out, tossing them in the recycling bin. He locked up, turned off the lights, and headed upstairs.
Staring at his reflection as he brushed his teeth, he knew this was the right path. It might be rocky, they might hit some snags, but no matter what, they were still them. He missed her, loved her, and wanted her back home, but he knew neither of them were ready. Not yet, but he hoped they would get there.
He rinsed out his mouth, used the toilet, washed his hands, stripped to his boxers and got into bed. Yeah, this was right. He rolled over and touched her side of the bed, smiling as he remembered the look on her face tonight and her smile. He pulled the pillow that was very much still her pillow close to him and held onto it as he started to fall asleep.
I can promise you that I'll try. I'll try. His words from earlier reverberated in his head, the only thing he could promise her, the only thing he could do right now. He did not put much stock in religion, instead putting his faith in Scully. He would do what was in his power to not destroy that faith.
He started to drift off as he thought of tomorrow. He could almost hear the phone ringing already and Mrs. Scully's voice on the other line.
Fox Mulder, we need to have a little chat.