December 24, 2017
Nearly to her house, Mulder tried Scully's phone one last time, not wanting to scare her when he showed up. She did not answer however, and he sighed as he continued down the street.
She had left work early two days ago, sneezing and blowing her nose repeatedly, her eyes watering. He smiled softly as he watched her leave, knowing the course her cold would take and that in two days, it would be at the worst point. She would not ask for help, but she would need it, even if she argued that she was fine on her own.
How many times over the past twenty four years had he been beside her through sicknesses? Far too many to count. Cases where she had been taken down with a fever, her cheeks flushed as she lay on thin, scratchy motel room sheets, him checking on her and leaving bottles of water and medicine.
Once they had been together, especially living together, he would lie next to her, rubbing her back or any other area that ached as she cried and moaned with relief. Sneezing and blowing her nose, the bed would become littered with tissues which he would put into a trash can once she had fallen asleep.
Inevitably he would then become ill, and she would be the one caring for him. Her fingers combing through his hair, rubbing his aching muscles, and applying Vicks on his back and chest to help with his cough.
The first time he had been sick after she had left, he had cried. Feeling awful and also knowing no soft and soothing hands would be there to ease his discomfort. He would have to do it all on his own.
He had stayed on the couch for nearly a week, the thought of going up and down the stairs too much to consider when he had ached so much. He had been sick a few times after that, but the first time had been the worst of them.
Last night, she had called him, her nose stuffy and voice hoarse, letting him know she was okay, just resting. He had heard the humidifier running when she would fall silent, deep open mouthed breaths causing him to believe she had fallen asleep. But then she had moaned and whimpered his name and it had taken everything in his power not to get in the car and drive over to her house immediately.
She had seemed to wake up a little then, realizing what she had said, telling him she would be okay and would most likely feel better in the morning. Saying goodnight, she had hung up and he had laid in bed, worrying about her and hoping she was okay.
When he had woken up, he called and she did not answer. He had taken a shower, got dressed, and packed an overnight bag, before he called her again. Still no answer.
He had left the house, stopping at the pharmacy to buy some medicine, Pedialyte, and boxes of tissues. Perusing the seasonal aisle, he had found the very last pre-lit, artificial tabletop Christmas tree in a box, a red fuzzy stocking, and a rather squashed looking wreath. Placing them in the cart, he had continued with his shopping.
A couple of bags of chocolates had been added to the cart along with a bottle of soap and face lotion he knew she liked, a container of face mask he had seen her use, and a small stuffed Santa. Happy with what he had found to add to the gift he had for her, he paid for his items and left the pharmacy.
Stopping at the deli, he had bought her a large container of chicken Matzo ball soup, a loaf of bread that she liked, and a few Christmas cookies.
Driving up to her house, he shook his head at the sight of it. It was too smart of a house, in his opinion, and he always felt like it was eyeing him and finding him lacking when he came over. As though the AI had studied him and laughed at his shortcomings, tripping him up once he was inside, enjoying watching his confusion.
He got out of the car and brought over the tree and items from the drugstore, placing them on the porch. Going back for the food, he carried the bags to the door, glaring at the camera in the doorbell. He would have flipped it off like the last time he had been there, but his hands were now full.
Plus, he was trying to do better these days. But shit… the desire to do it was incredibly strong.
Using his key, he opened the door and quickly turned off the alarm. Setting down the bags of food on the dining room table, he then grabbed the tree and other bags. Taking off his shoes, he walked silently down the hall to her bedroom.
The door was closed and as he opened it, he was hit with the overpowering scent of lavender, the humidifier humming near her bed. She was sleeping, breathing with her mouth open, hair a mess across her face, her body half in and half out of the blankets.
"Yup," he whispered with a shake of his head and a smile. "The second day is always the worst."
Cups of water were beside her on the nightstand, mugs with tea bag strings hanging out, used tissues and tissues in boxes, and a bottle of NyQuil.
Well that explains her sleeping so soundly, he thought, knowing she was more susceptible when it came to sleep inducing medication.
Walking carefully, he began to collect the cups and mugs, glancing at her repeatedly, but she did not stir. He laughed silently as he left the room and brought them to the kitchen, setting them in the sink.
He went to the dining room table and brought the bags into the kitchen, putting the soup and Pedialyte in the refrigerator, the medicine left in the bag on the counter. Taking the tea kettle off the stove, he rinsed and refilled it, ready for when she woke up.
Back down the hall, he checked in on her and found that she had not moved. Smiling, he walked into the bathroom and saw her clothes from the other day on the floor and he raised his eyebrows. Scully was exceptionally tidy and seeing the clothes on the floor was strong evidence as to how sick she had been truly feeling.
"Ohhhh," she suddenly groaned and he turned around, bringing her clothes with him and hurrying from the room, not wanting to be standing right in front of her when she woke up.
He took her clothes to the laundry room and left them on top of the washing machine. Hearing her moan again, he walked back down the hall, stopping outside her door and watching her before he stepped into the room.
"Hey," he said softly and she jumped, sitting up quickly and then moaning as she held her face in her hands, closing her eyes.
"Mulder, what are… ohhh… what are you doing here?" she asked, her voice scratchy.
"Checking up on you. You haven't been answering your phone." he said, walking closer to her and placing a hand on her forehead. "You're warm."
"Yeah…" she said with a hum, tilting her head back, her mouth open and her eyes opening and closing. "I don't feel good."
"No, I don't imagine you do," he said gently and she hummed again.
"You're here to take care of me?" she asked with a moan as she opened her eyes, trying to focus on him, but failing as her eyes closed again.
"I am. You want me to run you a bath?"
"Ohhh, that would be wonderful," she breathed and he smiled.
"Okay. You stay here and I'll let you know when it's ready."
"Mmm," she hummed, lying down and breathing deeply.
He went into the bathroom and turned the water on in the tub, letting it get to the perfect temperature before plugging it up and letting it fill. Drying his hands, he looked around and found the lavender oil she liked and also added some vanilla scented bubble bath.
Walking out of the room and into the kitchen, he turned the stove on low to warm the water in the tea kettle, then took a large glass from the cupboard and stood in front of the refrigerator.
"Okay, you're not going to be a fucker and refuse to work this time, right? I just want some ice and water," he said, narrowing his eyes. Stepping forward, he touched the screen and a happy face appeared.
Hello, Dana! How can I help you?
The screen presented choices, popping up little round circles to tap, and he hummed in disapproval.
"God, sometimes I hate this house," he muttered and pressed the ice icon and put the glass below the dispenser.
Nothing happened.
"I swear to God," he said through clenched teeth and suddenly ice fell into the glass and then stopped when it was half full. "Okay. Good. Now…" He touched the water icon and the glass filled without any problems.
Breathing a sigh of relief, he grabbed the bag of medicine and walked back to her bedroom where she was still lying down.
"Hey," he said softly and she groaned in response. "I brought you some medicine and some water. I wasn't sure where, or if, you had straws, so you'll have to sit up to drink it."
"Hmm," she whined and he laughed quietly, setting down the glass on the nightstand.
"Come on, let's get some medicine in you and it can start working as you're in the bath."
"Hmm," she whined again and he helped her sit up, her body swaying slightly.
"Which one?" he asked, showing her the different types he had purchased. "This is for cold and flu and I'd say by the look of you, that may be the one you need."
"Yeah… that one will be good. My body aches and my head feels stuffy. I hate this," she said with a sigh as he opened the box of medicine, setting the bag of the others on her bed.
"Here, take these and I'll go check on the tub." He handed her the pills and the glass, making sure she had a good grip on it before he walked into the bathroom.
The tub was nearly full, the combination of the lavender and vanilla creating a calming fragrance. He opened cupboards searching for a towel and washcloth, setting them on the side of the tub. Opening drawers he found a rubber band to put up her hair and he turned to leave the bathroom at the sound of the whistling tea kettle.
"Be right back," he said, and she nodded her head as she blew her nose.
He turned off the burner, added a tea bag to a mug, poured the water in and left it to steep, replacing the kettle on a cool burner. Back in her bathroom, he turned off the water and walked over to her.
"You want me to help you up?" he asked and she nodded. Smiling, he held her hands as she stood with a long moan and uncomfortable expression.
"Everything aches so badly."
"The bath should help with that, come on." He helped her walk slowly to the bathroom, an arm around her waist to help prop her up. Breathing deeply, she leaned into him.
"It smells good in here. What I can smell of it anyway," she said.
"I remember how to run your bath," he said and she hummed, squeezing his side. "Do you need any help getting in or can you do it on your own?"
"I need to pee first, but then I might need your help. I just feel so awful." She sighed as he changed direction and headed toward the toilet.
"Okay. Let me know when you're ready," he said, leaving her at the door and turning to leave the bathroom.
"Mulder, you don't have to leave. It's not like you haven't seen-"
"It's okay," he said, smiling softly at her. "I'll go get your tea."
"Okay…" she said, shuffling to the toilet.
He went to the kitchen and took the tea bag from the mug, setting it into the sink. He added some honey and a small spoonful of the raw sugar she liked, stirred it up, and carried it back to the bathroom.
"You decent?" he asked from outside the doorway and she sighed loudly. "Is that a yes?" He chuckled as she walked over and stood in front of him, her hair a mess, cheeks flushed and a tissue in her hand.
"I hate being sick."
"I know you do. Everyone does."
"But I hate it the most," she whined, frowning and blowing her nose.
"Okay," he chuckled and walked into the room, setting her mug on the sink. "You need me to help you?"
"Yes, please," she said in a tired whisper.
He nodded and bent to take off her socks, her hands on his shoulders to steady herself as she lifted each foot. The baggy sweatshirt, which he was sure was his, was next, leaving her a tight t-shirt, the one she usually wore to hold in the camphor and eucalyptus of the chest rub.
Glancing at her as he tossed the sweatshirt to the side, he saw her eyes were closed. She was not fussed about him undressing her, something he had done countless times, for many reasons, so he would not be fussed either.
Her shirt was next and she frowned with a groan when it came off, dropping her arms and head down with a heavy sigh. Pants and underwear were last and she raised her head as she stood before him, completely nude.
He smiled, his eyes staying only on her face, and she nodded, stepping closer to the tub. Putting out his hand, she took it and he helped her step into the tub and slowly sink beneath the bubbles, groaning as she did.
"Too hot?"
"No, it's perfect. Just achy and chilly. Me, not the water. It feels wonderful."
"Good. Here's your tea." He picked it up and placed it beside her on the side of the tub. "Washcloth and towel are there. And here…"
He picked up the rubber band he had taken out and scooped her hair up and off her neck, putting it into a very messy bun. When his fingers grazed her neck, she dropped her head again and his touch became a firm, but gentle massage.
"Ohhhh… yes. Thank you," she breathed and he smiled, focusing on the spots that elicited her to be more vocal, gasp, or moan.
When she started to raise her head, he rubbed once more and moved his hand. She turned her head to look at him and she smiled.
"Thank you," she said again and he nodded.
"You're welcome. The medicine should start working soon. Take all the time you want. You hungry? I got some chicken Matzo soup from the deli and the bread that you like."
"That sounds good, but not right now."
"Okay. Let me know if you need help getting out."
"I will," she whispered, leaning back and closing her eyes.
While she was in the bath, he unboxed the tree and set it up beside the fireplace. He took out her stocking and filled it with the items he had purchased, laying in on the coffee table. Hearing her groan, he glanced down the hall and sighed, hoping the bath would help her feel a little better.
Two hours later, they were on the couch watching television, or he was anyway. Scully was sleeping on her side, her head on a pillow pressed against his leg. Her fever and aches had lessened slightly and she'd eaten half a bowl of soup, one piece of bread, and a few nibbles of a snowman cookie, the exertion of it nearly wiping her out.
He suggested watching a movie and she nodded, falling asleep within minutes of the beginning of Die Hard. She was breathing loudly, a tissue held loosely in her outstretched hand. He smiled as he rubbed her arm gently, glad she was sleeping. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and was soon asleep himself.
"That feels so nice," she said with a low moan.
He smiled as he lay with her in her bed, rubbing her back and legs over her pajamas. The humidifier was humming away again, filled with fresh water, and releasing its lavender vapor, only one light glowing in the room from her dresser.
She'd had another bath, more soup and bread, and was now going to bed, her body aching as the nighttime medicine began to work, helping her to sleep and feel better.
When he finished with the massage, he picked up the container of Vicks, gathered some ointment onto his fingers, and slid his hand under her shirt. He rubbed it over her entire back as she continued to moan her relief. Her skin was warm from her fever and he hoped the medicine would soon begin to work.
"Thank you," she said as he lowered her shirt and sat up.
"You're welcome," he said, rising from the bed to wash his hands.
When he came back, she was sitting at the foot of the bed, putting on a different sweatshirt that he knew was his and he smiled, saying nothing about it.
"You need anything?" he asked and she shook her head.
"I have water and tissues, that's all I really need right now."
"Okay. Uhhh… I brought a bag to stay… if that would be okay." He looked at her and she smiled softly. "You still have your stocking to look through, along with the other gift I have for you."
"I have a gift for you too. I'd like it if you stayed," she said, her eyes closing slowly, and he knew the medicine was beginning to do its job. "Oh… I need to lay down."
He chuckled as she stood up unsteadily and he caught her elbow, helping her to the side of the bed, and covering her as she laid down with a tired sigh.
"I'm gonna go get my bag out of the car and set up in the guest room. You rest and get some sleep." He bent and kissed the top of her head and she sighed again.
"Sleep here," she whispered, forcing her eyes open to look at him.
"You sure?" he asked and she nodded, her eyes closing again.
"I'm… sure," she answered drowsily.
"Okay. I'll be right back."
After he showered quickly and got ready for bed, he laid down beside her. Her breathing was loud once again and it only made him smile. He had missed sleeping with her. Sick or healthy, having her next to him was where he always wanted her to be.
She took a deep breath and turned over, snuggling close to him. He wrapped an arm around her and she moaned in her sleep. The scent of Vicks filled his nose and her loud breathing was now closer to his ear. He chuckled softly as he held her, closing his eyes with a smile, not minding in the slightest if tomorrow he woke up, his own body aching.
Because he knew if he did, she would be there to take care of him, rubbing away his aches and pains, and bringing him soup to soothe both his body and soul.