January 2018

Mulder yawned and then shivered as he waited for the heater to warm the car on his drive to work. It had snowed a few days ago, and though it did not stick around for very long, it left the morning air cooler than it had been recently.

He glanced over at Scully's coat next to him on the passenger seat, smiling at the sight of it. They had gone out to grab a bite after work last night and she had a couple glasses of wine. Her cheeks became pink, and she told him she did not need her coat when they left the restaurant, as she fanned her warm face.

He loved when Scully was tipsy. She smiled, hummed, danced, and usually touched him more when she was slightly intoxicated. Watching her smile and walk a little unsteadily to the car made him laugh. He put an arm around her waist and pulled her close to him, making sure she would not fall over. Her answering hum made him smile.

The car was warmer now causing him to turn the temperature down a bit. Thoughts of last night led to thoughts over the past few months especially. Things were beginning to feel different between them, although it was moving at a glacial pace. Considering all they had been through before, he welcomed it.

Seven years they were together before there was more. As good as it was, things shattered between them. Little pieces took a long time to put back together, and he was determined to not miss one of them.

Scully was still at Alan's place, that weird smart house that seemed so shiny and fancy. One weekend, they had packed up her apartment, selling and giving away most everything, but moving a trailer full of things to her new place. Together they brought in boxes of items and heaved the bed down the hallway, equally yelling at each other and laughing as they avoided hitting the walls.

Falling on the bed once it was on the frame, he looked at her laying there, her eyes closed and a smile on her face. He was reminded of when they moved their furniture into their house and how the bed falling on the frame led to quick sex, despite how tired they were at the time. No sex occurred on the move in day to Alan's, but spending downtime and the weekend with her was just as good.

Well … almost.

After her move in, cases began to come more frequently across their desk, some that made her roll her eyes, but some that led to her sad eyes on him or hidden from his view.

One case brought them to St. Louis, a seemingly innocent case involving the possibility of a child who could read minds. They interviewed the parents and then spoke to the boy. He was kind and well mannered at first meeting, but when he turned his eyes to Scully, he stared and did not blink.

"Why did you give him up?" the little boy, asked her, his brown eyes like dark murky pools.

"What?" she exhaled, her breathing halted.

"You gave him away … to protect him," he said as he watched her and Mulder saw fear cross her face. She kept her calm and returned the boys stare. He tipped his head, watching her, before nodding and continuing his coloring.

Scully excused herself, her voice quiet, and he knew how much it affected her. He had a hard time concentrating until she came back, her eyes slightly red. She nodded at him, her silent 'I'm fine,' and he continued speaking to the child. No more revelations presented themselves and they left not long after.

In the past, he would have pushed, wanted to know more, but his only concern right then was for Scully. She could remain professional, put her personal feelings on pause, but he knew how much what the boy said had thrown her.

"Should we grab some dinner?" he asked on the way back to the motel. She had been quiet and breathing deeply since they got in the car. "Maybe some sushi or how about Thai?"

She smiled slightly as she looked at him and shook her head. "I'm not too hungry right now. I'd just like to head back to the motel," she sighed quietly.

"We could get it and bring it back," he suggested with a hopeful shrug.

"I just want to head back," she said, turning her head toward the window. He nodded and sighed quietly.

After her declaration following her mother's funeral, certain she would never find her answers, he had kept an eye on her. Her words hurt him to his core. The blame and guilt he carried since learning of her need to let William go, expanded and created a new pain inside him. He did not voice it, but it had taken root, and he wanted to fix it any way he could.

Arriving at the motel, she got out of the car and went into her room, no words spoken to him. Watching her walk away, knowing how she was hurting, made him feel terrible. He knew she would tell him she was fine if he offered to talk or help of any kind. He went into his adjoining room and walked to the connecting door.

Opening his door, he heard her moving around in her room, pacing. He could hear her footfall, the walls not very thick. When he heard her first sob, he inhaled sharply, his head falling against the door. Her cries got a bit louder before stopping altogether. Either she covered her mouth or she went into the bathroom. He waited, his head against the door, trying to wordlessly tell her he was there.

Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed and he heard nothing. He left his door open, an unspoken message that if she needed him, he was there. He sat on the bed with his head in his hands, hating himself for so many things, but mostly that in this particular area, she always suffered alone. He sighed and took off his shoes and his coat. He loosened his tie before taking it and his shirt off. His pants were next, and he laid them all on the chair by the small table. Glancing once more back at the door, he went into the bathroom.

He used the toilet, took a quick shower, brushed his teeth and put on his pajama bottoms. Standing by the door one last time, he listened but heard nothing. Sighing, he left his door open completely, and went to lay down on the bed, any possibility for a meal long forgotten or desired.

Laying silently in the dark, he was more attuned to the sounds around him. He heard the click of her door lock opening, and the quiet of her feet across the carpeted floor. He heard her standing by the bed and without looking at her or saying anything, he pulled the covers back and she laid down, facing him. He looked at her and waited. He did not reach for her, making it clear he was not expecting anything from her. This was the first time they shared a bed since her mother died, and that had been months ago.

"Mulder," she whispered, and reached for the hand that was lying on his pillow. She locked her fingers with his, closed her eyes, and sighed. She was asleep in minutes and he stared at her as she slept. Her eyes were a bit puffy. He knew she must have cried more in the shower where the sound would be muffled and the water would mix with her tears.

He reached out with his left hand and stroked her hair back from her face, staring at her beauty. She made his heart ache at how gorgeous she was, how strong, and how amazing. He had never known anyone like her, never loved anyone the way he loved her. She was it for him forever. He moved his hand and laid it over their joined ones, closing his eyes and going to sleep.

She was not in the bed when he woke, but he had not expected that she would be. He got up and dressed, before knocking on her door, his own still wide open. She answered with a small smile on her face and a nod as she looked in his eyes. He smiled back and suggested breakfast as his stomach growled loudly. Her smile widened and she nodded again, the previous night in the past.

That memory, more than any other over the past twenty plus months, had been the one that stuck and made him take stock of things. He knew that since her mother died, she thought more about William and so had he. He told her it was something he needed to put behind him, but these days it was more forefront than ever before.

He thought of Mrs. Scully and the conversation they had about William, 'I know that if you could, for Dana, you would find him. Even if to only know where he is, how he is, I know you would find him for her. There is nothing you wouldn't do for my girl, Fox, and for that I will love you forever. Perhaps one day, we will find the answers to the questions it hurts too much to ask.'

Her last words were to him about William, it meant something and he knew what he needed to do, he was just not sure how to do it. How to find a boy that was hidden to them and to anyone hoping to find him. It was daunting and seemed impossible.

"Don't give up," he said quietly, the mantra they tended to live by, and now a personal promise to Mrs. Scully. He pulled off the freeway and headed to the bureau's parking garage. Getting out, he decided to stop at the coffee stand in the lobby and get them each a hot coffee.

Smiling his thanks at the barista, he made his way to the basement office. He sighed as he got to the door and had to set the cups down on the shelf outside the door in order to open it.

"Scully, I come bearing gifts," he said, seeing her coat hanging on the coat rack. "It's past the holiday flavors, but still it's good." He hung his own coat and laughed as he looked toward the desk and his heart dropped as he saw her on the floor.

"Scully!" he shouted as he ran toward her, bending down to check on her. "Scully! Oh my God." She had blood on her mouth and was not responding to his touch. Grabbing the phone, he called 9-1-1, then bent back down to Scully.

He listened to her breathing, checked her pulse, and lifted her eyelids. Her pupils were nonresponsive and it scared him. "Scully," he whispered, touching her face and kissing her forehead. He held her hand and waited for help to arrive, not wanting to move her and chance causing her added harm.

The paramedics arrived and he moved out of their way, keeping an eye on her and answering their questions. Seeing her this way unnerved him and made him antsy. They needed to get her to the hospital faster. Skinner arrived and though Mulder answered him, he was not sure of their conversation, his thoughts only on Scully.

They followed the ambulance to the hospital in silence, Mulder worrying for Scully, clenching his jaw so tightly, it began to ache. He could see Skinner glancing his way, but he said nothing.

Waiting at the hospital was excruciating. Every time the doctors walked past and left them with no information, his anger and worry grew. Skinner's words offered no comfort as he would find none until he saw with his own eyes that Scully was okay.

"Her brain is on fire."

"Find him."

Finally by her side as she lay in the hospital bed, he took her hand in his and held it. The words of the doctor and Skinner were bouncing around in his head. If she was experiencing anything like he had years ago, he was terrified for her. He squeezed her hand and then sat down beside her, his head in his hands.

This waiting was even worse. Listening to her breathe, the steady blips of the monitors, answers not forthcoming. All he could do was think and worry, the usual guilt rising up and choking him. This was his fault on some level as was everything that happened to her during her time working with him. If she had just …

"Mulder ..." he heard her whisper, and he stood to take her hand as he had done hundreds of times in hospital rooms just like this one, ready to listen and help.

Her words were strained and strange. A virus unleashed by the Smoking Man. The Smoking Man? How? The thought of more conspiracies and the possibility of her being harmed as a result, made his head spin. Scully wanted to leave, find out what happened to her and where her visions were coming from, but that was not going to happen. No chance would he let her leave and not get the help she needed. He would not risk losing her.

"Scully, I'm on this," he said looking at her. "I'm on it." He walked out the door, ready to do whatever it took to make sure she was safe.

Nothing else mattered to him.

Twenty four adrenaline filled hours later, he sat in a hospital room, dried blood still in spots of his hands, no matter that he had washed them many times. He gave his statement to an officer, then two more as they came to the hospital. He could see Scully across the way speaking to her doctor and two different officers. She looked up and caught his eye, giving him a small smile, which he tried to return.

Walking into her room upon his arrival back to the hospital and finding her on the floor, struggling as some man was choking her, the life leaving her body, he had reacted without any thought other than saving her life. Grabbing a scalpel and doing the only thing he could think, he slit that man's throat, killing him in order to stop him from killing Scully.

Seeing who it was, he knew they had been used as pawns, again. The man he followed, had walked past him and out of that house in South Carolina, intent on killing Scully. He should have shot him then, should have shot them all. If he had not arrived when he did, that fucking bastard would have been successful with his task. He shook his head at the thought, anger and fear bubbling up inside him.

"Thank you, Agent Mulder," said one of the officers, nodding at him. "If we have any further questions, we'll be in touch." Mulder grabbed his coat and left the room, going to sit outside of Scully's, giving her the time she needed.

He sighed as he waited. Scully and William were now both in danger and he felt damn near helpless at the thought. How was he supposed to help them? She was in a hospital and had almost been killed.

He saw her in his peripheral vision and turned his head to look at her. She stared at him as she sat down, putting her hand on his thigh and squeezing. He grasped her hand and looked in her eyes.

"That man they just wheeled out on a gurney, I know that man," he told her.

"The Smoking Man didn't send him," she said, sure of her words.

"How do you know that?" he inquired.

"Because the Smoking Man won't harm me. He's held my life in his hands. That … was something else," she said, looking to her left.

"Your visions, Scully. They're not wrong."

"My visions … are from William," she said and he looked away from her, not completely certain. "I don't know how, but I know that he's guiding me. And you."

"They're looking for him," he said, wishing he did not have to say it.

"The Smoking Man can't act without William. I know that in my bones. And William knows it. They won't find him. But he will find us." She stared at him and he knew whatever she saw and experienced, it was real and he needed to trust her.

"So we … just wait? Do nothing?" he asked her.

"We do our work. The truth still lies in the X-Files," she quietly, staring at him. He held her gaze and then heard footsteps as he saw Skinner walking toward them.

"They said you were attacked," he said, looking at Scully.

"I was calling you," Mulder said, looking at him, as his anger once again rose up.

"I didn't get your call," Skinner said and Mulder knew it was bullshit.

"Where have you been, Skinner? Where you been?" he asked, standing up and stepping toward Skinner.

"Leave it alone, Mulder."

"I asked you to look for her."

"And I looked for her."

"Where'd you look?" Mulder asked, knowing it was a lie before he smelled it on him. The stench of cigarettes that made his stomach turn.

"I said leave it alone," Skinner warned him but Mulder was done. No more lies.

"You smell like smoke," he said before shoving Skinner, his anger no longer able to be held in check. Scully had almost died. Again.

"Mulder," Scully said quietly behind him, but he was not going to listen to her, not right now. Skinner took a second and then shoved him back. They grabbed at each other and Mulder was ready to kill him for the pain Scully suffered.

"Whoa whoa. Break it up." The police officers milling about yelled as they pulled at them, separating them and keeping them apart.

"Whose side are you on?" Mulder yelled at Skinner, his anger not abated.

"I said leave it alone, Mulder." Skinner

"What are you hiding?" Mulder yelled as Skinner turned and walked away.

"Mulder," came Scully's voice again and he turned to look at her. Standing there, the wounds from the car crash on her face, blood from her attacker on her clothes, she looked small and exhausted. She sighed as she looked at him and he felt his anger dissipate.

He walked over, keeping his eyes on her, becoming calmer the closer he came. She touched his forearm as he stopped and stood in front of her. Looking in his eyes, she nodded and attempted a smile.

"You ready to go?" he asked softly and she nodded.

"My car was towed, I'm sure. I just need a ride-" she started and then stopped when she saw the look on his face. Sighing, she squeezed his arm lightly and nodded.

He went to speak to the doctor and get Scully's personal things. She warned against Scully being alone right now with more seizures still a possibility, and Mulder nodded. He had no intention of leaving her alone, not after today, and not just because of the seizures. The image of her on the ground, fighting for her life, had been a wake up call that had slowly been sounding for the past four years. Nothing mattered but her and her safety. It was time he showed her just how much.

Thanking the doctor, he touched her upper arm, causing her to nod and smile kindly at him. He left the room and found Scully waiting for him. She sighed and stepped next to him as he approached. "Come on," he said, his hand gravitating to the small of her back. "Let's go home."

She leaned into him as they began to walk and he moved his arm around her shoulders. She put hers around his waist and together they walked out the hospital, intent on healing and continuing their work, while they waited for their son to find them.