The Dirt Paths
The Hallowed Compound
7:56 P.M. Wednesday
Despite Scully's fear, when Mulder went back to work no one was acting any differently than they had that morning. People were still ribbing him in camaraderie while he worked at the field, even going so far as to say they were excited about tonight. Occasionally some of the 'weaker' men would get picked on, but other than that, it was a relatively uneventful day.
He'd told Scully as much while they were having dinner, but even though she seemed to be pleased by this, he could tell she was worried. It was a look he'd seen on her face all too often and one he was sure she'd seen on his own. She picked at her food throughout the whole meal, stared at the table absently as if she was off in her own world, and, when she did look at him, her eyes were outpouring with worry. Scully was treating that figure in the window as a portent of doom, and no matter how much he tried to dissuade her fears, he knew she wouldn't be content until he came back in one piece.
His only reprieve from her worry was when she had shifted her attention onto the little girl. When they went over after dinner, Annabelle was fast asleep, which Scully said was probably for the best. Scully gave Lorraine another round of antibiotics and implored that they come over to their house if anything happened during the night.
It was not lost on Mulder that Lorraine was still glaring at him, not that he blamed her. Scully had informed him today was the first time she'd ever seen Lorraine's husband, and Mulder had to say the same since he had a different job. Mulder didn't know how to feel about Ed, he seemed perturbed at Mulder's supposed transgression towards Scully, yet Ed was the person in charge of helping the cult recruit people. When he mentioned it to Scully, she'd implored that Ed was trapped like everyone else. On the outside world, it was likely he'd be arrested for not paying his debts, while here he could at least be with his family.
While that was true, Mulder was uncertain of how much personal benefit could outweigh the cost other people were suffering.
Ultimately, by the time they arrived back at their house, it was time for him to go to the meeting. Randy was sitting on the porch steps waiting to walk with Mulder. "Hi Rob," he greeted, standing up. "Katherine," he greeted a bit more quietly, tipping his cap to Scully.
"Hi, Randy," she greeted with a smile.
It didn't escape Mulder's notice that whenever Scully directed her attention to Randy, he never ceased to blush. Mulder couldn't blame him, especially since the man had to spend most of his free time hanging around a teenager, being able to interact with a beautiful woman like Scully clearly was something he wasn't used to. "Sorry I gotta steal Rob away," he joked, rubbing the back of his neck.
"That's okay if you promise to keep him safe," Scully replied kindly. He could tell she was being extra charming in the hopes it would guilt Randy into being more cautious of Mulder's safety just to impress her.
"Will do, Ma'am," he replied with another affirming nod.
"Let's get going," Mulder replied, patting Randy's arm. "I'll see you in about an hour," he replied confidently to Scully.
"Wait," she called out softly to him as soon as his back was to her.
Mulder turned around and saw she'd walked a few feet so she was right behind him. She looked a bit bashful, looking at Randy who took the hint and looked away before easing herself onto her tiptoes to kiss him. Without her shoes on, she was unable to reach him fully so he craned his neck down and met her halfway, relishing the sensation of her plump lips pressing eagerly against his.
He placed his hands on her ribs and felt them expand as she inhaled quickly. The kiss only lasted a moment before Scully lowered herself back down, looking at him shyly. "Be careful," she murmured before turning. She was stopped by him grabbing her wrist gently, causing her to look back at him.
"I promise," he murmured lowly.
She nodded and he let go of her wrist, watching as she walked into the house and locked the door behind her. "Sorry about that," he murmured, turning to Randy. "She's just worried someone might push things too far, especially after the branding."
"Don't be, I think it's sweet seeing you two so in love," Randy replied, walking towards the path leaning to the meeting area.
"Can I ask you something?" Mulder posed, looking around idly.
"Shoot," the man replied.
"How do they choose who goes to the other side and who doesn't?" he asked.
Randy sighed, as if he wasn't sure how to respond. "Well, this is just a theory, it may sound a little out there."
Mulder couldn't help but smirk. "I'm a fan of unusual explanations."
"I think it depends if you have someone to see," Randy shrugged.
"What do you mean?"
"I've been there," the redhead stated. "I, um, I said something nasty to my father, not knowing it would be the last time I ever saw him."
"I'm sorry," Mulder murmured.
Randy nodded before continuing, "He was who I saw on the other side. As soon as I saw him I broke down and told him everything I wish I'd have said instead. He said I was a dumbass for thinking I needed to apologize for anything - that the thousands of things I'd said to him over the years, all the times I'd made him laugh or told him I loved him, weren't negated by one offhand comment there at the end."
Mulder said nothing, digesting the man's words, and Randy took that as a signal to continue. "Then I hugged him and he was gone, like he became a bright light and then shot away from me. After that, Victor said I had no reason to go back."
"Where do you think it is you go?" Mulder asked.
"I used to think heaven, but now I think it's like a limbo of sorts," he shrugged. "Some people have a lot of people on the other side, others have never gone over."
Mulder was just about to ask who hadn't been over when they started falling in step with some of the other men making their way to the gathering. Then, out of nowhere, a sound of pure anguish ripped through the silence of the night causing Mulder to whip around. "What the hell was that?" he asked, incredulous.
"Sounds like those damn coyotes are ripping out each other's throats again," one of the men laughed, causing a few others to chuckle around him.
Apparently all forms of violence amused these men. "Sounds brutal," Mulder replied with a shrug as he stopped near the pit, waiting for his turn to go down.
Mulder knew they were a few minutes late, but he was surprised when they got down there that some of the men were chanting as if the ceremonies had already started. Upon reaching the basement floor, he noticed there seemed to be fewer men there than normal, but before he had a chance to take a good look, his attention was drawn to the ground in front of Victor.
A man he'd never seen before was writhing on the ground as if he was seizing with binds keeping him down. His eyes were rolled into the back of his head, only the whites visible, as his lips moved wordlessly. The man looked like he was having a medical emergency, yet no one around seemed to care.
"What the hell's going on?" Mulder cried out, taking a step forward towards the man.
Victor raised his hand to halt Mulder before looking up towards him. "Patience, Robert. Your time will come soon."
"Wh-" he began asking, only to feel Randy grab his arm lightly and pull him back towards the side of the room, blending in with everyone else and the ambient chatter going on.
"That's what people look like when they're visiting the other side," Randy explained in a hushed tone. Mulder focused on the man, noticing that even in this state, the man's lips would occasionally quirk up as if he was smiling.
He was pulled away as Randy whispered, "Here you go."
Mulder looked and saw it was the Kool Aid concoction from last time. He looked at the drink dubiously, he knew Scully would advise against it, but he felt a compulsion to take the offering all the same. He hesitated
"Do you want to go to the other side tonight?" Randy asked, turning slightly when some of the men started cheering at something on the other side of the room.
Scully's worried face flashed in his mind and guilt settled in his gut. He knew she didn't want him to, that it was a bit of a risk. But for all he knew this was his last chance. He'd never felt this connected before. "Yeah," he replied with a solemn nod.
"Then drink this," Randy implored, pushing the cup closer to Mulder as he took a swig of his own. "Katherine said to watch out for you, that's what I'm gonna do."
"Why are you drinking it if you're not participating?" Mulder asked, resolving that if Randy was this confident it was for the best that he should trust him.
He leaned closer to Mulder, so that there was less of a chance of someone overhearing. "I hate seeing this. The drink calms my nerves," he replied.
Mulder took a large swig of the drink before asking, "How long does it usually last per person?" He had to be a bit louder than he'd have liked, but the people around them were being rambunctious.
"Apparently to them it feels like five minutes, but usually in the real world it can be anywhere from fifteen minutes to an hour," Randy replied.
Mulder finished off the rest of the liquid, and despite the short time frame, with each drink he felt better than he had all day. His sore muscles felt rejuvenated, his headache went away, and everything felt clearer. The sound of gagging drew his attention to the floor and he watched as the man blinked back to consciousness. "Welcome back," Victor beamed, watching as some nearby men helped the other one up.
"T-thank you," he whispered, breathing heavily.
"Of course, my child," he replied before turning his face and locking eyes with Mulder.
"Are you ready?" he asked with faux charm.
Mulder nodded and started walking towards him, his movements already lighter and freer because of the drink. However, right before he was about to be where the other man was, everything went black.
He blinked a few times, trying to orient himself to his new surroundings. He tried to be more conscious of them this time. It was dark, he couldn't smell the dirt anymore, and it was cold. Nothing physically seemed weird, his limbs didn't feel heavy, nor did his mind feel clouded.
"Fox, Fox, Fox," he heard a voice call out behind him before he was knocked slightly off balance by two arms wrapping around his waist.
He steadied himself as a smile broke out on his face. "Hey, Sam," he greeted, turning around in her embrace so he could kneel down and hug her properly. She was freezing, the same as last time, but it didn't bother him other than out of concern for her.
He kissed her cheek before burying his face into her hair. "I was hoping you'd come back again," she murmured into his shirt.
"I'd do anything to see you," he replied, pulling away and grabbing her hands in his own.
"How old are you now?" Sam asked, her hazel eyes locking onto his.
"How old do you think I am?" he asked, letting go of one of her hands so he could touch the bow holding her hair back.
"Old," she replied, causing him to exhale a laugh.
"I feel old next to you," he chuckled, before answering, "I'm 38."
Her eyes widened comically as she looked at him, her lips quirking into a 'told you so' smile. "How old are you?" he asked out of curiosity.
"14," she replied, lifting her hand to pull on his ear lightly.
"You don't look 14," he replied, confused.
"I can look however I want. I want to be 8," she replied with a shrug.
He scanned her face, she looked the exact same as she did the night he last saw her. Much like the last time, she wasn't making much sense to him. He wanted so badly to understand what she was saying, but he couldn't. "Why 8?" he asked.
"I was happiest," she answered with a smile.
"Sam, what happened to you?" he asked, a lump forming in his throat as if his body already knew the answer his heart and mind were trying desperately to ignore.
She looked at him in disappointment and whined, "Fox, do we have to talk about that?"
Mulder felt the weight of his decision pressing down on his shoulders. He had Samantha here, right in front of him, who better to tell him the truth than her? But if this was the last time he ever got to see her, spend time with her, did he really want to spend it making her upset?
"Okay," he replied softly with a nod. Then, changing the subject, he added: "Can I ask you why you were happiest?"
"Because Mom and Dad left and I got to hang out with you," she replied kindly.
It was a night he'd replayed a million times over. Their parents went next door to the Galbrands' house, he was in charge. He remembered she'd begged him to play Stratego with him and he'd agreed because it meant he could watch The Magician at nine. She was obsessed with some dumb western movie that he didn't want to watch so he just kept news about Watergate on. He'd been mean to her.
"I couldn't have been much fun to hang out with," he admitted in self-deprecation.
She shook her head at him and replied, "Not true."
"I teased you, and I wouldn't let you watch your show," Mulder replied with heavy guilt. It was something that had haunted him for years. She'd just wanted to watch one damn movie, she'd even asked their parents for permission for it, but he wanted to watch an episode of a television show he could never bring himself to watch after that night.
"You always teased me," she laughed. "But you played Stratego with me."
Mulder smiled softly, "You always loved that game, didn't you?"
Her hair bounced as she nodded, her dimples coming through, "Even when you let me win."
He laughed before squeezing her cold hand gently, his tone becoming more somber. "I should never have told you to get out of my life, Sam. I just want you to know I never meant that."
"Duh, I know that, Buttmunch," she teased, rolling her eyes dramatically. Apparently that was the common denominator for the women closest to him.
"I'm Buttmunch, am I?" he laughed, poking her in the side.
A giggle tore from her throat as she backed away, between gasps of breath she yelled, "Yeah, you're Buttmunch."
He tickled her a bit more, laughing along with her as she giggled and tried to twist away from him before she shocked him by throwing her arms around his neck in a hug.
His laugher faded quickly into a nostalgic smile as he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her as tightly as he could without squeezing her. "I love you, Samantha," he stated, rubbing his hand up and down her back. Not even the friction warmed her.
"I love you too, Fox," she sighed, turning her head to kiss his cheek.
A gasp tore from his throat as he blinked his eyes against the harsh light of the basement. His body ached and his limbs were heavy as he tried to move. "Sam-" he rasped.
"Help him get to a chair," Victor's voice commanded above him.
Mulder felt a pair of arms drag him to the side of the room. He watched his feet trail behind him, leaving two long intents in the dirt as he was pulled backwards. He was lifted onto a chair and discarded there, blinking dumbly as he tried to get his bearings.
"Hey," a voice called next to him.
His head lolled to the side, resting limply on his shoulder as he glanced at Randy, who'd pulled up a chair next to him. "Drink this, it's water," the man instructed.
Mulder lifted his hand and noticed it was shaking, not coming up nearly as high as he thought it would. A hand came around the nape of his neck to support his head as he felt the rim of the cup rest on his bottom lip. "Here," Randy murmured. Mulder felt liquid pool into his mouth and he moved his lips to help guide it. "Good job, Robert."
There was a sound of murmuring he heard off in the distance, but he couldn't make out what they said, only Randy's response. "Come on guys, leave me alone. I'm just helping him."
"T-thanks," Mulder rasped, his throat already feeling better.
"Of course," Randy replied. "You looked like you were smiling despite… everything else. Did you have a good time?"
Mulder smiled, his cheek still cool from Samantha's kiss. "Yeah, I did."
The Thorn Residence
The Hallowed Compound
9:04 P.M. Wednesday
After what happened last time he went to a meeting, there was no way in hell Scully'd be able to relax. Instead, she opted for sitting at the dining room table, worrying her nails between her teeth for the better part of an hour. It didn't help that nearing eight, the sound of animals fighting echoed throughout the compound like a chilling death rattle. She knew it wasn't Mulder, too unnatural and inhuman sounding, but it was a grotesque soundtrack to her already overwhelming anxiety.
She trusted that Mulder wasn't purposefully putting himself in harm's way. Scully had no doubt that as far as Mulder was concerned, the group wasn't suspicious of them and there'd never been a murder this early on. But as far as she was concerned: the group hadn't trusted them up until today, someone likely overheard them talking about something private that might've blown their cover, and Mulder was more invested in seeing these visions than the other men were.
Scully had no idea how any of this worked. From Mulder's explanation alone, she would have been convinced he was drugged and hallucinating, but nothing about his physical state led her to believe that was the case. All she knew for sure was that Mulder would do anything, even sacrifice himself, if he thought it would get him closer to finding out the truth about Samantha. He was like a moth drawn to a flame, flying directly towards the thing that would leave him burned. It already had.
She'd never regret the development they'd made in their relationship, but she couldn't deny that his intense focus on finding the Truth was one of the things she'd often come back to while laying in bed at night and weighing the pros and cons of being with him. Pros: she was madly in love with him, no one had made her feel the way he did, sometimes she felt like she may die without him. Con: she couldn't live her life coming second to a mission with no foreseeable end. That was no life to lead.
Scully would support him to the end of the world and back, but she couldn't put her whole life into being just a tertiary part of his.
A knock on the door broke her out of her trance. With what happened last time, she hadn't changed into her pyjamas yet, not wanting to be leered at by any creeps. She unlatched the door and was pleased to see it was Mulder, being gently held up by Randy.
"Hey," she greeted, opening up the screen door to let them in.
"Hi Scully," he murmured, not seeming to recognize that Randy was right there.
Randy just laughed and said, "I thought you said you were a Yankees man?"
Scully'd gotten enough Vin Scully comments in her life to know where Randy's mind went. She laughed awkwardly, playing along and said, "Sometimes he tunes into the Dodgers games."
Randy chuckled before easing Mulder into the chair Scully was just at. "He was doing pretty okay until we were walking here. He threw up."
Scully looked at him and saw the remnants of vomit on the front of his shirt. Her brows furrowed, but she still looked up at Randy with a smile. "Thanks for getting him back to me safely."
"Anytime, ma'am," he responded, kindly. "Do you need any help getting him upstairs? He's a big guy compared to you."
She laughed and shook her head. "I think I can manage from here, thank you though."
He nodded, tilting his cap to her. "Lemme know if you change your mind."
"Will do. Night, Randy," she replied appreciatively. She wasn't sure how helpful Randy would be in the face of real danger, but she had no doubt that man was doing everything in his limited power to help her protect Mulder. She wished she knew more men like him.
After Randy left and the door was locked, she turned back to look at Mulder who was swaying in his seat. "Mulder, are you okay?" he asked, walking towards him.
"Head hurts," he grunted in reply.
She grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, mindful of the vomit. Looking around his body, she didn't see any marks, and he affirmed that assessment himself. "No matchin' tattoos this time," he mumbled.
Scully rolled her eyes, but was grateful nonetheless as her gaze fell on his branded circle. His flesh was still angry even though they took care of it everyday. It stood out starkly on his olive skin and she wondered if she'd ever look at it and not feel uncomfortable.
Leaning forward, she took a big inhale and was met with the sour stench of vomit even without his shirt. "Did you just smell me?" he asked. "Are you makin' a pass?"
"You wish," she chuckled as she pulled on his arm, coaxing him out of his seat. She almost fell over as his weight leaned on her, but she remained steady. "Will you be able to make it up the stairs?" she asked.
"Y-yeah," he nodded, his eyelids hooded.
They stumbled towards the stairs - a walk that should've taken mere seconds instead taking five minutes. "W-wait," he muttered as they got to the base of the stairs.
"What?" she asked, trying to resist as he unhooked his arm from around her.
"I don't wan' you to fall," he slurred. She watched as he leaned forward, placing his hands on the stairs while his knees rested on a few lower. If she wasn't so concerned for him, she'd laugh at the spectacle of Fox Mulder crawling on all fours up the stairs.
It took him a while, but he was able to make it. With every step he climbed up, she was behind him, ready to stop him from slipping and to help him in whatever way possible. It shocked him that Norma said it took her husband five trips before he passed, because she couldn't imagine what Mulder would be like coming back from even another trip.
"You look like hell," she remarked.
"I feel like hell," he chuckled lightly.
He used the walls to help himself stand up, and she was quick to put her hand at the small of his back, guiding him forward so he wouldn't fall down the stairs. He was making a march towards the bedroom and she had to grab onto the waistband of his jeans to stop him. "Hey, hey, no," she murmured.
"Tired," he replied in a monosyllabic whine.
"I know you are, but I need you to take a bath," she replied. "You smell like puke."
He sighed, but he followed her guidance anyway. She led him to the bathroom and flicked on the light, apologizing when it seemed to hurt his eyes. "Are you gonna take one with me?" he yawned.
"I don't think you're up for the sexy fantasy you're creating in your mind," she chuckled, undoing his fly and easing his jeans down. He placed a large hand on her shoulder, using her as support as he stepped out of his pants, and she had to resist buckling to the floor from his weight.
"Too bad," he murmured.
Scully chuckled and stood up, walking to the tub and turning on the faucet. She spent a moment making sure the water wasn't too hot before turning back towards him. He'd taken the initiative to strip his boxers off and she was met with the sight of him standing completely nude in front of her. "Sorry," she gasped, averting her gaze to the towel rack.
She realized she was being ridiculous and he did too as a small laugh resonated in his chest. "I don't want you to be," he replied, walking towards the tub. She helped ease him in but he still slipped a bit when he was almost all the way in, causing some of the water to splash back on her.
"We'll be quick so you can get to bed, okay?" she assured him, brushing her hair back.
She leaned forward and grabbed the body wash they'd been given, pouring a generous amount into her hands before rubbing it onto his torso where she figured he needed to be washed the most. He hummed in the back of his throat in contentment as she quickly worked. Mulder looked like he was about to say something, turning to her only for his gaze to wander down and his eyes to flit somewhere else.
She looked down and saw the splashing of the water had caused her shirt to cling lewdly to her chest, making the already thin, white fabric completely see through. The material clung to her breasts, leaving nothing to the imagination as her nipples stood out prominently. She chuckled at the fact they both were being unnecessarily bashful and a smile quirked on his lips in kind. "I didn't mean to ogle you," he mumbled.
"It's okay if you ogle me. You have permission," she replied.
He turned back to her, looking at her breasts openly just once before his gaze returned to her face. "You're beautiful, Scully."
"So are you, Mulder," she replied, teasingly getting some bubbles onto the tip of his nose and making his whole face scrunch up with a smirk.
Since they were being open, she took a look down and saw that, despite his physical exhaustion, he was hard as a rock. "He likes to come out at inconvenient times," Mulder explained, following her gaze.
"So I've noticed over the years," she teased. If she had a dollar for every time he'd gotten an erection in front of her, she could afford to retire. At the beginning she'd just assumed he had an intense libido, but over time she started to recognize it happened often when they were in close proximity to each other. Car rides were hard for him, to say the least.
His eyes widened as much as they could in his tired state and he whined, "Nooo, I tried so hard to be discreet."
"I don't think discretion is an option at that size," she smirked, lifting one of his arms to rub soap on him.
"Thank you," he smiled, flattered.
Pleased with the comfortable rapport they were having, she added. "But it doesn't help that you get them in your sleep."
"It doesn't help when my partner is the most beautiful woman in the world," he replied, his eyes fluttering shut as he relaxed under her touch.
"Flatterer," she replied, a blush tainting her cheeks.
"Truth-teller," he refuted.
He laid there open and trusting as she continued washing him off. She had to admit she enjoyed being able to touch Mulder this freely, feeling his muscles under her hands while he made occasional sounds of contentment that sounded strongly like pleasure. However, she refused to let her thoughts wander too far while he was so out of it. She finished with his other arm and put her hand in the tub, swishing the water around and rinsing him off. "I'm not going to wash your hair because it seems like a liability with how out of it you are," she explained. "I don't want you to accidentally end up drowning yourself by trying to submerge your head."
"Mmm," he replied sleepily.
She cupped some of the water and gently splashed it in his face, causing him to blink his eyes comically. "I'm up," he replied.
"That's step one, for step two I need you to stand up," she instructed. Scully laid one of the towels across the bathroom floor to give him traction before grabbing his arms and assisting him in standing up. "Go slow, Mulder. I don't want you to fall."
"'Kay," he replied with a small nod.
After careful maneuvering, she got him out and in front of the mirror and counter. "Stay here, okay? I'm going to grab your underwear."
He nodded with a yawn and she sprinted into the bedroom, stripping from her own dress and putting on her nightgown so she wouldn't just get him wet again. She grabbed his boxers and quickly went to the bed, pulling back the covers so she wouldn't have to with Mulder in her arms.
When she came back, he was flicking his index finger between their side-by-side blue and red toothbrushes, a small smirk on his face. "Do you want to brush your teeth?" she asked, moving towards him while extending the elastic of his boxers.
"What? Oh, yeah," he replied mindlessly, holding onto the countertop while stepping into the boxers. She was doing it from behind him, as to avoid being blinded, but she accidentally snagged him with the band on the way up.
"Sorry," she replied, grabbing their toothbrushes and applying toothpaste.
"You're fine," he replied, adding a thanks as he took the toothbrush from her.
She made quick work of brushing her teeth, mentally singing in her head to pass the time. When she went to spit and rinse her brush, she caught sight of Mulder in the mirror basically chewing on his toothbrush instead of actually brushing.
"Jesus," she muttered, putting her toothbrush away and guiding him to sit on the toilet seat. She gently smacked his hand away and pulled his jaw down, taking over for him.
He chuckled, his eyes glimmering with humor as he watched her brush his teeth. "You're hopeless," she murmured.
"Aha," he agreed around the brush, shirking away when she accidentally grazed the roof of his mouth.
"Last time you seemed to get your bearings quicker, you weren't as tired," she remarked.
"Ahndeesai-" he started, only for her to stop and point to the sink.
He stood up and spat before she turned on the faucet and rinsed the brush. "Randy said I was out longer than he'd seen before," he replied.
Her brow furrowed in concern, now curious if it was a matter of time rather than the number of trips that accounted for loss of life. "Let's get you in bed, okay?" she murmured, wrapping her arm around his bath-warmed waist.
"I've always dreamed you'd say that to me," he teased, grabbing her arm for support.
"I think it's better when I'm the one whose sick or hurt, at least you can carry me," she chuckled.
"No," he replied, stumbling a bit.
"No what?" she laughed. "You've definitely carried me before."
He placed a hand on the doorframe, trying to take every opportunity he could to ease his weight off her. "I never want you to be hurt or sick," he grumbled. "I don't like it."
She smiled softly at his sleepy adamance. "How about we both make a deal for neither of us to get injured or sick, because I don't like it when you are either."
"Okay," he nodded, careening forward a bit.
Her hand shot to his abdomen, steadying him as he swayed. "Are you sure you're just tired, Mulder?" she asked, nervously.
"Yeah, I feel like I just ran a marathon," he replied.
"Did you see her?" she asked softly, easing him onto his side of the bed.
He nodded, but his face fell. "What's wrong?" she asked, placing a hand under his chin so he'd look up at her.
"I… I think she might be dead, Scully," he admitted. "For a long time now."
Scully felt her own face fall hearing him say it. It felt poignant coming out of his mouth, like a culmination of years of worry and desperation manifesting into one simple, devastating statement. She'd had the same thought herself, but after seeing how devastated by the idea he'd been after the Roche case, she thought it best to keep to herself. "I'm so sorry, Mulder."
"Me too," he nodded.
A small, somber smile quirked his lips causing her to cock her head to the side. "What is it?" she asked.
"I, um, I've spent so long feeling bad about how I treated her. I was four years older than her and I was a moody brat," he murmured.
"You were a kid, Mulder," she iterated.
Mulder nodded softly. "I've just always worried that the time she did get to spend with her family was tainted by me being a mean older brother, but um," he pursed his mouth to the side, looking away while blinking rapidly. "She told me she was always happy when she was with me." His voice was tight and she could tell he was trying not to cry.
Scully, on the other hand, was not as successful. "Oh, Mulder," she sighed, pulling him to her so she was hugging his head against her abdomen. "Of course she did."
"I was a little girl once upon a time," she whispered. "When I was Samantha's age, I'd follow Bill like I was his shadow. Everything he did was so amazing to me. You probably didn't see it at the time, then she was probably just your annoying little sister, but Samantha was just a girl who adored her brother."
Scully felt a dampness on her abdomen as he nodded, his arms wrapping around her hips. She knew Mulder felt misplaced guilt for not protecting her, but she had no idea he was worried he'd been a bad brother and the newfound knowledge broke her heart. "Mulder, I'm certain you were an amazing brother to her."
He sniffled and leaned away, wiping his face with the back of his hand lazily. Mulder looked up at her, his eyes wide and wet as he whispered, "Thank you."
She cupped his face as she lent down and pressed a sweet, chaste kiss to his lips, pulling back and doing the same to the tip of his nose and his forehead. "You're a great man, and I'm sure you always have been."
"I don't know if I'd go that far, but I've learned I should never doubt you," he chuckled, before yawning.
"Lay down," she commanded.
He eased onto his side, and she crawled over him, scooting up behind him so her front was flush to his back. She grabbed the hem of the bedspread and covered them before wrapping her arm around him. She'd never been the big spoon before, but she wanted to make Mulder feel as secure and safe as he always made her feel.
"I don't know what I'd do without you," he sighed, sounding like he was on the edge of consciousness.
She pressed a kiss to his shoulder blade while stroking the skin of his torso with her thumb. "You'll never have to find out. I'm here," she whispered.