Scully's Apartment.
Thursday
30th Dec. 4.30
Mulder lifted his head off the cushion and tried desperately to ignore the pounding in his head. He managed to kick the blanket off and lever his legs over the side of the couch but everything started to swim and he gripped the cushion to steady himself, but landed on the floor despite himself.
He peeled off his crumpled overcoat and dropped it on the floor behind him as he stumbled across the hall to the bath room. The bright lights stung his eyes and shot piercing needles of red-hot pain into his head but he persevered. His eyes had closed to mere slits as he stood above the toilet, one hand holding the wall while the other tried not to make a mess.
He had no idea what time it was, what day even and it became a struggle to remember where he was. As he flushed and washed he looked up to the mirror and glanced at his haggard features. His eyes were tired and red, watering over with weariness. His hair was grimy and stuck to his head, several cow licks stood up strangely on the back of his head and he blamed the pillow for his errant look. His face was rough with stubble dusting across his chin and cheeks, making him look as old as he felt, he realized with a chuckle as he reached past the shower curtain to switch on the hot water.
After shedding his clothes and testing the water, he stepped in and stood beneath it. He leaned back against the tiles, gasping in shock at the jolt of cold that blasted his skin but he didn't have the strength to move. The water cascaded over his head, and he tried to relax under the calming flow. Shaking his head out of the spray, he lifted his hand up to brace it off the wall and caught sight of the red scar on his arm. He looked down at it disgustedly before tearing his eyes away.
Slowly, languidly he washed himself down and shampooed his hair. It took longer then he expected but it had the desired effect. As he stepped out of the shower he felt stronger, more aware of his surroundings. He shaved and rinsed his face off, and slapped on a little cologne.
"Could be worse," he muttered to himself as he pulled a towel from the rack and tied it around his waist. A whoosh of cold air greeted him as he pulled the bathroom door open and stepped into the hallway. He was running his hand over his chest, gently touching the tender scar left there. New bandages he realized. It had been days since he'd changed the old ones and he knew the wounds were too fresh to be left unattended and would probably get a telling off from Scully for letting it get wet under the shower.
As he stepped into the living room he froze at the sound of a key in the door. With one hand resting on his chest and the other holding his towel up, he watched the handle as it turned. Scully stepped through slowly, not looking around or seeing him until she slipped out of her jacket and closed the door behind her.
The first thing he noticed was how tired she looked. Her clothes and hair were perfect but her eyes; he could tell even from across the room, were red and sore. Something he knew he was probably the cause of.
She avoided his gaze training her eyes on the floor slowly moving up his body until she spotted the angry wound on the upper left side of his torso.
"You need a new bandage?"
"Yeah." He found the power to move his legs again, so clutching the towel tightly around his waist he stepped around the couch and grabbed his luggage. As he rummaged through it to get some clean clothes she called out to him from the kitchen. He pulled out his stuff and walked over to the kitchen table where she was opening the first aid box.
"Sit down," she said without looking at him. He sat sideways on the chair leaning his shoulder against the back, bending his head over to look at his feet. Gently her fingers probed the area on his back around the edge of the wound and it was with a little jolt he felt at the cold shock of the cream she applied.
After carefully rubbing on the cream she taped a small bandage over it and slowly moved around to face him. His eyes were still glued to the floor so with only a little hesitation, she reached out to touch his cheek. He jerked at her touch and she quickly withdrew her hand.
"Mulder?" she said softly, wondering if she should leave him be or keep talking to him.
Slowly his head moved up and he looked up at her. Through unshed tears and squinted eyes he saw the features of her face change from expectant to pitiful.
"Mulder?" she said again. "What is it?"
His hands reached out and snaked around her waist pulling her closer. The tenderness she showed him, the gentle caress of her fingers and the soft lilt in her voice when she said his name bulldozed through his barricades and penetrated right to the center he thought he had guarded so well.
"Oh Mulder," she said as she held his head against her stomach and stroked his hair.
"I can't do it Scully." He murmured into her blouse. "I thought I could, but I can't."
"Do what Mulder?" her fingers froze on his head and without realizing it her grip tightened, pressing him closer to her torso.
"I can't do it anymore. It hurts so much."
Scully pulled his arms from around her and pushed him back into the chair. She knelt before him and rested her hands on his bare hips.
"Mulder look at me," her hands squeezed him and his head turned to her, the tears falling now from his weary red eyes. "Mulder you have to tell me now. You have to tell me what you want."
"I want…I want…" his eyes pleaded with her, pleaded to be set free, to be let loose to run and hide again.
"What is it?" she urged him to continue.
"I want you." His voice was so low that she barely heard it.
"Is that why you are here?" her hands started to move away from him as she leaned back and pushed up onto the balls of her feet, but his hands clasped tightly around her forearms before she could move back any further.
"It's why I came back." He edged towards the end of the chair and closed his knees against her. "I want you."
"Mulder-"
"No Scully," he persisted, shaking his head from side to side to interrupt her. "Ever since I saw you in Seattle I knew I couldn't run anymore."
"Mulder, stop." She brushed his hands away and stood up. Turning her back to him, she walked across the kitchen to the sink, where she could hear his bare feet padding across the tiled floor behind her.
"I'm not talking about sex," he blurted out, touching her arm and turning her around. "I'm talking about you."
"You can't do this for me; you can't go through this for me" She said angrily. "It doesn't work that way, you need to do it for yourself."
"I thought I could come back here, and we could do this together…but it doesn't work that way either."
"I am here for you Mulder," she said, but his head was shaking again. His eyes flared with a burst of anger.
"Don't you see?" His grip on her arm tightened. "I know you are, that's why I'm here, that's why I came back. But you can't go through this with me; you can't see what I see, know what I know and feel what I feel."
His eyes were wide and desperate and her arm was starting to hurt. His knuckles were white with the pressure he was exerting onto her.
"I thought I could do it, but I don't want to see it or hear it anymore. I don't want to feel it anymore. I don't want to feel." Fresh tears tumbled over his cheeks and fell onto his bare chest. "I can't."
He released her with a little push and grabbed his jeans off the table. He dropped the towel, not caring about his nudity and pulled them on, then slipped on a black tee shirt. His sneakers were by the couch and he hurried over to pull them on without tying the laces. He was grabbing his jacket off the floor when she finally spoke, her hand on his back.
"Mulder where are you going." It wasn't a question but more a statement of his lack of choices and how he always seemed to choose to run.
"I'm…I'm going."
"You can't do this!" she urged forgetting all the platitudes she had been silently repeating. She grabbed him and turned him to face her. Suddenly it wasn't about him, it wasn't about saving him from a life of running. It all turned round to face her. Her need to help him, to heal him, to hold him.
"Watch me."
Suddenly his voice was low and callous. His eyes were dark and frowning as he looked over her then turned to walk away.
"Mulder, No!" she called out trying to pull him back, her arm gripping his but he shrugged her away and left.
Washington Coast LineThursday
30th Dec 5.20PM
Jessica King rolled over and over down the sand dune, her hair whipping around her face covering her eyes and going into her mouth. But she didn't care. She loved it. Sky melted into sand into sky and then sand again as the sound of her laughter roared in her ears, curling into a bubbly mirth when she finally stopped rolling. Her chest heaved with heavy breaths, her laughter taking over her lungs and body.
"WHOOOOO!" she screamed into the air, thrusting her hands up to the sky. Her eyes caught sight of the dragon tattoo on the inside of her left forearm and she reached over with her right hand to wipe the blood away. The open straight wound on her wrist was gushing more blood then she expected but it wasn't a concern for her right now she mused with a smile.
Jessica sat up and buried her hands into the sand behind her, digging her fingers in deep as she pushed her self up and turned to face the sea. The winter waves crashed against the shore, frothily kicking up as they receded back again.
With a final glance down to her wrists she clenched her fists and watched as her blood flowed faster and thicker from the open gash. With a wild laugh she threw her arms out to her side and raced for the water. Like an airplane caught in an updraft she weaved across the sand and plunged into the salt water, diving below the freezing surface.
The sting was horrendous and excruciating but she pushed the sensation away as she emerged from the water her eyes closed, arms out and face turned up at the sky.
"Heal me, O LORD," she shouted to the sky. "And I shall be healed; save me, and I shall be saved: for thou art my praise."
The sky darkened with stormy clouds and she opened her eyes as she pulled her arms in closer to her chest. Turning her hands over she watched as the skin seemed to move and squirm. The blood receded up her arm over the tattoo taking the design with it. The dragon swam across her arm twirling and spinning across her skin, fading into nothing. The wound seemed to suck up the remains of the blood before joining in the middle and melding into a thin red line.
"Yes!" she screamed into the sky, slapping her hands on the sea's surface and jumping up over the waves. ""O LORD my God, I will give thanks unto thee forever," she roared into the cloudy sky as large rain drops started to fall onto her face. The flicker of the lightening overhead suddenly shimmered and changed before her and the cold frothing water around her disappeared, replaced by the warm sensation of the shower from above.
She opened her eyes to find herself back in the bed, kneeling on the white sheets. The room was dimly lit and she could make out the other beds.
"Oh my god, it worked!" she said, laughing through her tears that slid over her cheeks. "It worked." She held her arms out in front of her, her elbows touching and her palms open. Her tattoo was gone but the jagged gash that marred her skin was bleeding profusely.
From the shadows of the room, a mysterious figure stepped towards her and rested a hand gently on her back. Jessica slowly turned her head to watch the familiar silhouette step closer, lifting one leg into the bed beside her then the other.
"Save me, and I shall be saved:" Jessica began softly, "for thou art my praise, save me, and I shall be saved: for thou art my praise,"