Mulder stood outside Scully's apartment, everything feeling heavy- his arms at his sides, his legs that had brought him this far, and his heart.
Especially his heart.
She had told him to go home and get some sleep, but the thought of being alone, the nightmares waiting for him once he closed his eyes, had brought him to her place instead.
But once he had arrived at her door, he found he could not bring himself to knock, suddenly feeling he should not have come.
"Hey," he heard her say. He turned his head, surprised to find her in the hallway. She had changed from her suit into a long sleeved top and pants. She smiled softly as she touched his back. "Do you want to come in?"
He nodded, not trusting his voice.
She opened the door and waited for him to walk in first. Once inside, she helped him take off his coat and then his suit jacket, laying both of them on a kitchen chair.
"Do you want anything?" she asked and he shook his head. "You sure? Water or juice?"
"No. I should've just gone home, but I…"
"Sit down," she said, motioning to the couch and he nodded as he walked over and sat down. "I made myself a cup of tea and left it to steep while I took out the trash. You take it and I'll make myself another."
"No," he said, looking back at her. "No, you don't have to do that-"
"It's just a cup of tea," she said with the same soft smile. "It's no bother."
"But I-" He stopped when she shook her head, signaling that there was no point in arguing- he was getting the tea whether he wanted it or not. "Thank you."
"Hmm," she hummed and he turned his head back, staring at her empty fireplace.
He heard her moving around the kitchen and then she was on his right side, smiling as she handed him a cup of tea.
"Careful. It's still a little hot." She rubbed his shoulder before she walked back to the kitchen to make her own cup.
Taking a sip, he sighed. He did not really like tea, not hot anyway, but he liked the way Scully made it. He had tried it at home, using the box he had bought for her to use when she was over, but it never tasted the same as when she made it for him. Something about it always felt calming to the soul, as cliche as he knew it sounded.
She was back quicker than he thought she would be, her own cup steaming. She also brought over a plate of some shortbread looking cookies. Setting it down, she sat cross legged at the end of the couch, facing him with her cup in her hands.
He took another sip, feeling her eyes on him. Sighing, he looked at her and shook his head.
"I didn't feel like going home."
"I understand," she said. "I'm glad you're here."
"Yeah."
They were quiet for a bit and then she leaned forward, setting her cup onto the coffee table. He looked at her as she clasped her hands together in her lap.
"It's not your fault," she said softly and for a second he stopped breathing.
"What isn't?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.
"Any of it. Your sister. Addie. Karen Ann. Not any of it is your fault."
"Maybe not the last two, but-"
"No, Mulder. None of it is your fault. However Samantha disappeared, however it truly happened, you are not to blame."
"I was there, Scully," he said, looking down at the tea in his cup. "I let them take her."
"No," she said, moving closer and taking his cup from him. "You were a child. Not much older than her. What were you supposed to do?"
"Protect her," he said, closing his eyes. "Keep her safe, Fox, that's what he said."
"Who?" Scully whispered, placing a hand on his arm.
"My father. Before they left for the evening. I was supposed to protect her and I…" He shook his head and drew in a sobbing breath.
Scully's arms were around him instantly, pulling him close to her, their positioning slightly awkward. He shifted, causing her to nearly fall into his lap as he cried. She murmured comforting words and stroked his hair until he had quieted.
"It's not your fault," she repeated, her arms still around him. "I know you carry it, that you will always carry it, but it's not your fault." He felt her press her lips into his hair as he exhaled.
Pulling back, he loosened his hold on her, allowing her to move, though she remained close. He wiped at his eyes and cheeks and she rose from the couch, coming back with a box of tissues and handing it to him.
He took them and then excused himself to the bathroom. He paced in there for a bit, trying to hold back more tears. When he felt in control of them, he washed his hands and splashed water on his face. Drying off, he was suddenly hit with a wave of exhaustion.
"I, uh… I should get going," he said as he walked back into the living room. "Get that sleep you were talking about earlier." He attempted to smile and failed.
"You could stay here if you'd like," she offered and he shook his head, his eyes downcast. "Mulder?"
He looked up and she walked towards him, that same soft smile on her face.
"Stay. Take my bed-"
"Scully, no," he said, shaking his head.
"And I'll stay out here," she continued, as though he had not spoken. "I have some laundry and other things to do. You need to sleep, and I know how it feels to be alone, wishing that someone was around. It makes the act of sleeping harder sometimes. "
"I can't… can't take your bed."
"It's not as if you haven't slept there before," she said, smiling at him. "Stay. Get some rest."
He let out a deep breath and nodded once, knowing he would put it off if he was home alone.
"Okay. I'll be right back," she whispered, running her hand down his arm as she walked past him.
Ten minutes later, he was lying down, his exhaustion finally overtaking him.
A shirt of his, along with a pair of his sweatpants that had made its way into her suitcase at some point, had been waiting on the bed when he came in from the bathroom and he had put them on gratefully.
Lying under blankets that smelled like Scully, while hearing her moving around the apartment, the television playing at a quiet volume, he slept.
And for the first time in days, he did not have any nightmares.