disclaimer: not mine, don't sue
Scully was perfectly comfortable in staying that place between A Sleep and A Wake where nothing hurts (and things hurt more than they should) on Mulder's couch in his empty apartment for the rest of her life.
The rest of her Life (or her lack of one).
Because Life had been Lived without Him.
She was dying again.
She
Missed
Her
Chance.
And her body and her soul and her hair and her eyes and her muscles were all dulling and complaining and she was Tired.
Too tired to notice that he had opened the door.
Too tired to notice that he had walked over to the couch in the middle of the empty apartment where she lay between A Sleep and A Wake.
And A Live.
Too tired to notice that he was Tired as well.
"Hey," was all he could think to say. He knew she would have said nothing.
"You left," she finally has the opportunity to say.
"Yeah, I came looking for you."
They were exactly the same.
"I was scared when I couldn't find you," she told him (but not really told him, because she had just finished his thought).
"We're tired of this."
"We're giving ourselves wrinkles."
"We're dulling our hair and eyes."
"We're killing ourselves."
They smiled when they finished that last statement together.
"I just want my Life back, Mulder. I want you back," Scully started to cry. This was one of those times where she could allow it. Like on Mark's shoulder that morning. Like on his chest when they watched Steel Magnolias.
Mulder kneeled and put his arms around the woman he loved. That he shared a soul and a forehead and a history with. That he wanted to share his present and future with. They squeezed each other so tightly (maybe to let the other absorb into them, maybe to disappear into each other altogether) they ran out of breath.
And they kissed.
Until they ran out of breath.
Just
Like
In
The
Movies.
