I don't own The X Files or its characters. The X Files is the property of Chris Carter, and is not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

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Chapter 26: Healing by AnarchyX-Phile

She heard him long before she saw him, as was usually the case when it came to Fox Mulder. A staticky version of the National Anthem was playing, growing louder and louder until it stopped just outside her door, the last few notes of the song were drawn out until applause roared over the final note and an announcer's voice took over; the hospital door swung open just as the announcer called for the start of the game. Mulder was dressed in his baseball jersey and dark blue jeans with a large radio propped up on his shoulder while his other arm cradled a precious bundle of popcorn, hot dogs, and a small cooler.

"It's game time!" He said as he kicked the door open wider and walked into the room, easing over to her bed so he could drop his armload onto her mattress and direct the entourage following behind him. "Set it up right in front of the bed, Frohike." Mulder said as a large television was rolled into the room; "Langley, I don't want any static on that screen," he warned with a pointed finger as Langley began setting up a large antenna on top of the tv. "Where's Byers?" Mulder asked as he looked around the crowded room. There were three nurses standing in the doorway watching the chaos with a mixture of personal approval and professional disapproval on their faces.

"Parking the car, we'll be done before he even finds a parking space." Frohike said as he unplugged Scully's heart monitor and pushed it out of the way so that he could plug in the television.

One of the nurses stepped into the room ready to argue but Scully glared at her and held her hand up to stop her from talking. "I don't think my heart is going to stop during the next two hours, I shouldn't even be hooked up to the damn thing anyways."

Mulder tsked at Scully and smacked her leg playfully. "Be nice to the lady, she let me sneak your hotdog in. You can be mean to those other two though, they wouldn't let me put your jersey on, they said it would 'mess with your IV.'" He said with a childish roll of his eyes. "But, they didn't say anything about a sash." He said mischievously as he pulled a long ribbon out of his pants pocket and showed it to her. It was sloppy handwriting but it was sweet nonetheless. Number One Fan.

She eased herself upright so that he could slip the sash behind her back and under one arm before he raised her bed into a position so she could sit up. She started opening the cooler but he put his hand over hers to stop her and shook his head, giving her a conspiratorial grin and wink before he started shoving everyone out of the room. "Thanks for the help, but I'm afraid this is a private party." Once they were alone, he scribbled out a messy 'Do not Disturb' sign on the front of Scully's medical chart and hung it on the outside of the door, giving it a nice firm slam so they were well and truly alone.

"Hurry up, your missing it." She said as she scooted over to give him enough room to crawl into the bed next to her. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and she moved onto her side so that she could snuggle into the crook of his arm. "I'm sorry we couldn't be at the game."

"I think this is better anyways, those bleachers make my ass sore."

"Yes, but getting on the Kiss Cam again would have been nice."

He turned towards her and gave her an adorable grin, his free hand coming up to her face as his thumb traced her jawline. "You know, we're married now. We could kiss without the camera."

She seemed to think about that for a moment before shaking her head in disagreement,"no, I like the camera. I want all the men in the stadium to know just how lucky you are to have me sitting beside you."

His grin turned into a dopey smile as his eyes softened. He was damn lucky. "I like hearing all the women in the stadium sigh in disappointment when they see that I—the most eligible bachelor in the state...nay, the country—have finally been shackled."

"I'm just your old ball and chain now." She chuckled as she leaned forward and nuzzled her nose against his ear.

"Mmmhmm, the hottest ball and chain I've ever seen. I'm thinking about smuggling out one of these hospital gowns so you can wear it around the house for me."

She chuckled and kissed him on the neck before pushing away from him and sitting up straighter. "Now, give me that hotdog. I'm starving."

He suddenly remembered the cooler he had brought and he reached down and grabbed it from the foot of the bed and handed it to her, giving her a sly smile before grabbing the popcorn and hotdogs and settling himself back against the bed again.

Scully looked from the cooler to Mulder and then back to the cooler suspiciously before cracking open the lid and peeking inside. "Mulder!" She said with a condescending eyeroll and a giddy smile.

"You're off the pain meds so it's time to have a little fun again. Hand me one." He said, chowing down on his hotdog. She handed him a cold can of beer and then took one out for herself. They were quiet for a few minutes as they ate and watched the first inning of the game. Their team was down by two runs, but they weren't worried yet. Mulder tossed his food wrapper into the trashcan next to the bed, took a large gulp of beer, and cleared his throat. "So, are you going to tell me what the doctor said this morning?"

Scully's mouth was full, but she answered him anyways, pausing only to wipe ketchup from the side of her mouth. "Oh sorry, I just forgot. He said I could go home tomorrow after he finished his evening rounds. He wants to look at the stitches one last time. And then I have to come in a couple times a week for the next few months to monitor the healing. No heavy lifting, so I can't pick up your slack anymore." She smiled as she rocked towards him and playfully bumped her shoulder against his shoulder.

"What should we do when we get home?" He asked seriously, before rolling his eyes when he saw her eyes narrow as she bit down on her lip. "I mean recovery wise. But now that you brought up sex, we need to ask tomorrow how long we should wait. We can't be in any hurry—we'll wait a year if that's what it takes."

"You'd wait a year?" She asked as her brow arched in surprise.

His eyebrows knitted together almost comically as he began shaking his head. "Scully, I'm not going to risk hurting you to pleasure myself. Whatever the doctor says tomorrow, I've already decided to double it just to be absolutely certain there won't be complications. It's not worth risking."

"But Mulder..." she whined, even though she knew he was right; not waiting until she was fully healed could have detrimental results. "We'll be an old married couple that goes for long walks in the park and fall asleep before the evening news starts."

"Once you're healed, we can be newlyweds again. Scout's honor," he said as he held up three fingers and winked at her.

They were quiet through the next couple innings, throwing out the occasional derogatory remark whenever the ump made a bad call. After the popcorn was eaten and a few kernels were thrown in a lame, calm version of a food fight, Scully sighed and closed her eyes; she relaxed and let more of her weight settle against Mulder and pressed her cheek against his chest, the strong beat of his heat pounded in her ear. "Thank you," she whispered, unsure if she was speaking to Mulder or God. Mulder answered.

"What, for this?" He nodded his head towards the television and then looked back down at her face. His hand came up and moved a lock of her hair behind her ear.

"For all of it."

He nodded his head and turned his attention back to the game but it wasn't long before he spoke again. "For all what, Scully?"

She shrugged one shoulder and wound her arm around his waist. "Just, all of it. Everything, I guess. I just felt like saying it." She ducked her head downwards and broke eye-contact, her cheeks reddening in embarrassment.

"You're going to want to retract that statement once you see how I've trashed not only the office but the house as well." He gave her a playful smile and shrugged his shoulders, "what can I say, I'm terrible at housekeeping. I feel like you knew what you were signing up for though when you swept me off my feet." She chuckled and closed her eyes again. She felt him press soft kisses to the top of her head as he worked his way to her forehead. "Are you tired? I can take this stuff away if you need to sleep."

She shook her head lazily and forced her eyes open. She wasn't sleepy, she was lonely. Actually, that wasn't true. She was tired of not being lonely. It had been three weeks since she'd been by herself and she was weary of all the intruders that were disrupting her solitary life. She wanted to be tucked away in her home with no one but the man beside her. No doctors or nurses, no worried family members or friends. Just Mulder, her, and their own bed—and even the bed was negotiable at this point.

"Actually, my legs are falling asleep. I think I need to walk around for a while." She said as she sat upright and began fussing with the blanket that was tucked around her.

Mulder rolled out of the bed and got her slippers for her and a bathrobe to put on; when he walked over to her, she turned her back to him and held her arms out so that he could slide the bathrobe on her. Instead, all she heard was a low, drawn out wolf-whistle. "Mulder!" She groaned as she started grabbing at the back of the hospital gown, trying to cover her backside.

He hummed appreciatively and finally helped her into her robe. He took a step closer to her and wrapped his arms around her, making sure to keep his embrace below her stitches. She closed her eyes and licked her lips when she felt him move the hair away from her neck with his nose and begin kissing the back of her neck and shoulder blade. It felt like it had been years since she'd last felt his lips on her skin in any kind of romantic way; lately, she'd been getting only pity kisses from him whenever she was in pain or in between nurses' checks. But this was different. This was hot, wet, and perfect.

She twisted in his arms and looped her arms around his neck, pulling his head downwards until their lips met. At first, his kiss was hesitant again, still afraid of hurting her. She brought one hand forward, sliding it across his cheek until she could brush her thumb against the corner of his mouth; in between a kiss, she teased his lower lip with her thumb nail and as soon he parted his lips, she quickly kissed him and pushed her tongue into his mouth. He moaned and lifted his hand up her back to wrap in her hair and angle her head sideways as he began kissing her back hard.

With her not wearing shoes, the difference in height was almost comical and he felt the muscles in his neck and back begin to ache and pull. He repositioned and grabbed her ass to pick her up but then changed his mind; she'd had a very rough time after the gunshot and she wasn't ready to be yanked off her feet after having 3 surgeries in as many weeks.

So instead, he pulled her closer to him, pressing her body against his and breaking their kiss to breathe for a split second before ducking back down to kiss her again. He was putting everything he had into these kisses; sometimes he would swipe his tongue just against her lips, or the tip of his tongue would curl and pull her upper lip in between his teeth so he could nibble on it before letting it go. Then he would dive back in, rolling and rubbing his tongue against her own.

He struggled with her for a few more minutes before he finally lifted his mouth away from her and shook his head. "C'mere, Mrs. Mulder." He said as he tugged on her hand and led her to the sleeper/lounge chair the nurses had brought in for him to sleep on. He sat down and gently eased her down to sit sideways in his lap, cradled against his chest with her legs tipped over the side of the chair. Now their faces were level and he wouldn't get a cramp in his neck. He kissed her lips sweetly, pulling away without deepening it. "I can't wait to get you home," he said before laying a light kiss on her cheek.

"I can't wait to be home." She said wistfully as she played absentmindedly with his earlobe. They had been married for such a short time and they hadn't exactly found their couple rhythm yet; as with most new relationships, they'd focused so much of their free time and energy on their sexual explorations and had let the sentimental bonding slip. Now they would get their chance.

He shifted her slightly in his arms and winced as his lower back twinged. "I don't know how I've slept on couches for so many years, I haven't slept a full night since before Vegas." He said as he pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes. She grabbed his chin and tilted his head towards hers so she could look at his face. His eyes were red and there were slight bags under his eyes; she ran her fingertips under his eyes and then kissed his eyelids. "And it's been even harder on you, I know." He pressed his lips hard against her temple and then moved her head until her cheek was laid against his chest. "And there's still so much that can happen to you, even now. Dana... I..."

"Fox. I'm okay. I'm going to be okay."

He sighed and kissed her forehead again before shaking his head and closing his eyes wearily. "You'd tell me if you weren't okay, wouldn't you?"

She was silent for a few minutes, lost in her thoughts. She was a fiercely independent person, that's how she was raised. Honestly, if she was in pain, she would have most likely treated herself and would never have thought to mention it to him. Being tough and strong was just who she was and she didn't know if she could ever truly confide everything in Mulder. He would think of her as weak, and that was something she couldn't bare him believing. She was slightly caught off when he huffed and rolled his eyes. "Damnit, Scully. You have to tell me if you're not okay. I can't do this if you aren't honest with me. You know that."

"Wait. You can't do what?" She asked, sitting up straighter.

"This, you and me. If I can't trust you to talk to me, we're never going to last." When he asked her to marry him, he'd been prepared to spend the rest of his life with a woman who didn't love him. He'd been fairly certain that he could grow to love her enough for the both of them, but trusting each other was nonnegotiable. Without trust, this meant nothing—and Scully should have realized that.

"Mulder..."

He took a deep breath and shook his head, clearly not wanting to continue talking to her right now. "You said you needed to walk, I'll help you up." He interrupted and put his hands on her hips, picked her up off him, and slid her onto her feet next to the chair. He stood up and began tossing all the empty food wrappers into the trashcan next to the door. "Do you need me to walk with you?" He asked as she pulled the door open and stepped out into the hallway.

"No—I'm fine." He rolled his eyes and fell back into his chair; with a quick swipe of his arm, he grabbed the remote off the side table and turned up the volume on the game. "Let me know who wins," she mumbled, looking back at him. Instead of answering her, he merely grunted and pulled his jersey over his head and threw it towards the bed, the cloth caught hold of her "Number One Fan" sash and gravity carried both to the floor. Scully exhaled a long breath before pulling the door closed and walking down to the nurses' station; she could talk to them for a while and give Mulder time to cool down.

It wasn't like she was hiding anything from him or being dishonest, she was simply electing not to tell him about every ache and pain. And it isn't like telling him about her pain would fix the issue, he would only end up worrying about her and then they'd both be suffering; so, with that line of thinking, it would be more of a disservice to confide in him than keeping it to herself. It made sense to her, so she would explain it to him whenever his mood passed.

When she made it to the nurses' station, she stopped and rested on the wall next to it until one of the nurses asked if she needed help. "No, I was hoping to speak with Michelle, is she working tonight?" Michelle had been so kind to her throughout her stay here and they had formed a sort of bond; for some reason, Scully found it easy to talk to her and Michelle often stayed in her room while Mulder was away to pick Scully's brain about the medical anomalies she's seen since working at the FBI-specifically the X File cases.

"No, she's not scheduled tonight. Is there something I can do?"

Scully shook her head and took off down the hall, walking three full laps around the floor before finally making it back to her room. She had been lost so deeply in her thoughts that she hadn't realized how tired she had become or how much pain she was in. When she shoved open her room door, there was sweat running down her back and layered across her face. Mulder had pushed the television off to the side and was now sitting in his lounger with an open case file in his lap, chewing absentmindedly on his bottom lip as he flipped slowly through the pages.

She took a step into the room and he looked up at her before his attention quickly returned to his file, then he did a double take and bolted out of his chair. "Scully, what's the matter?" He met her in the middle of the room and slid his arm around her, helping her the rest of the way to the bed. "I should have gone with you." He said lowly, more to himself than to her; she knew by his tone that he was beating himself up. Self-inflected harm was Mulder's specialty.

"I should have asked you to." She said as she laid back and let him pull her legs up onto the bed. She needed his help and she didn't know why she was so stubborn. If he was in pain, she would want him to tell her. She should tell him that. She should tell him that she will work on confiding in him—it won't be easy, she's spent all her life keeping her feelings bottled up—but she will try, for him. She should tell him that she loves him and that she'd rather be in this hospital bed next to him than anywhere else on earth...or better yet, the universe. He'd like that. She should tell him that it hurts when she takes in a deep breath, but when she looks over at him, the pain is dulled. She should tell him that it embarrasses her that she needs help dressing, but the fact that he's the one helping her dress and undress makes it less humiliating; and when she sees his reaction to her nakedness, humility is replaced by desire. She should tell him all of this, and yet she doesn't. Instead, she pulls him into her arms and hugs him before pulling far enough away to rest her forehead on his; their souls peer deeply into one another. She doesn't say it—she doesn't say anything at all—but he feels it.

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After he got Scully cooled down and asleep, Mulder returned to his chair and picked up the case file he'd been reading. Agent Jack Willis had been wounded while on a case, another agent had shot the suspect and both men were taken to the hospital. Both men died, but doctors were only able to revive Agent Willis. While it didn't sound like much of an X File, Mulder had taken a curiosity look into the case and noticed a large number of discrepancies: Willis' handwriting had changed, a major personality shift, memory loss, and he was now left-handed instead of right-handed.

If Scully was healthy, he would have gladly taken the case. It was rare for them to find a case that suits their fields of study so perfectly. While he studied and observed the psychological shift in the Agent, Scully could have looked into the physical changes like a tattoo appearing inexplicably on his forearm. But she wasn't healthy, and field work was off the table for the next two months. Two months. Jesus, he was going to get tired of their office. He liked getting out of the basement, stretching his legs in a new town every week; Scully liked to complain about always being on the go, but he knew she secretly enjoyed it too. Some of their best memories were made in small, faraway towns.

He yawned as he shoved the case file back into his bag and tried to relax in his lounger. Tomorrow they'd be in their own bed, spooning together like little baby kittens. They'd both been moody lately and while he was trying not to let her abrasiveness get under his skin, her stubbornness was becoming difficult to bare. He knew he'd been out of sorts as well, he was back to getting only a couple hours of sleep every night and it seemed much harder to function now than it did before he married Scully.

These long, sleepless nights in the hospital had given him time to do some soul searching; nights had always been particularly hard for him, and while the nightmares about Samantha had slowly faded away, they were now replaced with nightmares about losing Scully. He had never realized how dangerous their job was, how much he had put her through in such a short amount of time. There was a piece of him that wanted her to quit and become a stay at home wife—that was never going to happen, he knew that, and they both would end up being miserable—but he also couldn't bare to see her in pain.

It was this train of thought that led them into their second major marital fight. As soon as he saw Scully's eyes flutter open the next morning, the words came spilling out of his mouth. This fight was much quieter than their first argument as they had to whisper to keep the nurses from overhearing them; but even the whispered words were soaked and dripping in venom.

It had started out with a simple statement, as all fights do—a simple, unimportant suggestion that morphed into Mount Everest. And when Mulder was finally standing on top of that mountain, he began rolling up a snowball. "Why don't you teach some courses at Quantico a couple days a week?" He paused to glance up at her over his reading glasses, he saw her eyebrow arch, and then he dropped his eyes back to the newspaper he had in his hands, feigning disinterest. "Steady hours. We'd spend less on insurance payments and hospital bills." He didn't need to look at her a second time to know she was fuming. He relaxed back in his chair and crossed his legs, "it would be nice to come home to you every evening. Wouldn't that be nice?"

And all of a sudden, his metaphorical snowball on that metaphorical Mount Everest slipped out of his hand and began rolling down the mountain, growing larger and larger with every spin as it plummeted downwards. He looked up at her and he suddenly understood why husbands usually snuck out of work early to grab a beer before they headed home. He hears that it dulls the pain—and right now, that was exactly what he needed. He glanced at his watch, damn, it was still nine hours before Happy Hour started.

"Nice? And what would I be doing all day? Feeding your fish, folding your laundry, cooking dinner and inviting the neighbors over for a nice round of Gin Rummy?"

"You could be raising our children." He offered, hoping to derail the train away from the incoming ice storm that was headed straight for him. Judging by the look on her face, he'd only made thing infinitely worse.

"Our children... this coming from a man who said we weren't ready." Her anger was beginning to cloud her judgment and her common sense and she flung her feet over the side of the hospital bed and started to stand up. He rushed over to her side and grabbed her arm to steady her; and while she glared and rolled her eyes at him, she did let him help her stand up. "I have never, nor will I now, leave the X Files. When we have children, I'll still be an agent. The Gunmen can babysit."

"Oh yeah, they'd be more concerned about making them tin foiled hats than feeding or changing their diapers." he said, rolling his eyes as he let go of her elbow and let her stand on her own.

"None of this even matters, I'm not pregnant and I won't be pregnant as long as you keep making me take those pills!" she said, and even though she was still whispering, he could feel the avalanche his small snowball had started and he was in its direct line of impact.

"I"m not forcing you to take birth control." He said as his eyebrows crinkled in confusion, "as a matter of fact, I distinctly remember you saying that it's it was 'your body' and you'd do what you wanted."

"You said we weren't ready—so I took them. Look," she said exasperatedly, "none of this matters. I'm not staying home and you know that. And I'm not going to teach courses, so you might as well get that out of your head right now. Why don't you teach classes at Quantico a couple days a week while I stay in the field?"

He couldn't help but laugh. Scully being the sole agent over the X Files? The department would be shut down within a week and be replaced with a medical science department in which she could explain that, no you did not see a UFO, it was a new species of frogs in the area that have learned how to light up and fly. "The department wouldn't last a day without me," he said and then he sighed and let his hand come up and pinch the bridge of his nose, "hell, it wouldn't last a day without you either."

They both turned away from each other and sat down on the bed, side by side, and he put his hand on her knee. "I just worry about you."

"I know, and I worry about you too. But the only way we can protect each other is if we stay together. I'm not going anywhere, I won't."

"Come on, and kiss me, Scully."

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I apologize for taking so long for an update. I didn't really know how I was going to wrap this story up but I finally broke through my writer's block a couple nights ago. Like my other stories, this story will end at 30 chapters, so the final three chapters are going to be hot since I have to wrap up and say goodbye to this particular version of Mulder and Scully. I'm also working on a one-chapter story about the Dreamland episode, and, I must say, it's pretty damn steamy. If any of you have an episode you want me to write about, leave it in the comment section and I'll see if I can work with it.