Truth and Consequences, The
Subject: [glass_onion] New: (XF) The Truth and Consequences by addicted2fanfic Date: Wednesday, June 05, 2002 4:27 PM
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TITLE: The Truth and Consequences
CLASSIFICATION: Vignette, post ep
SPOILERS: The Truth
DISCLAIMER: These wonderful characters do not belong to me. FEEDBACK: email@example.com
ARCHIVE: Sure, fine, whatever
SUMMARY: What happened after the fadeout. RATING: PG-13
DEDICATION: This one's for Liz
AUTHORS NOTES: At the end.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: Thank you Fran and Amanda for beta and to Syn for reading. A discussion with Liz is responsible for this story.
The Truth and Consequences
A strange noise.
I hear a strange noise. It's in this room. The rainstorm outside confuses my sleep-deadened senses.
I know I've been asleep in another career long string of anonymous motel rooms. I can't move my arm. It's numb. There's something holding my arm down. I begin to panic when I notice my left side is warm and hair is tickling my face. Hair?
Scully, it's Scully. Scully's hair, Scully's warmth.
Talking wore us both out. We've got each other, but now that is all we have. It's enough. It has to be.
Scully's still asleep. It's her soft snuffling, sobs that woke me. Maybe she's having a nightmare? I hug her tighter and she starts crying in earnest. There's got to be something, some way I can distract her from her nightmares.
"With all that's been going on I didn't get to ask how your family has been. How is everyone, Scully?"
She's preternaturally still and I can feel her shifting gears. She knows that I'm distracting her, diverting her attention from her grief, from the nightmare that is our life. It's Scully's way. She invented it.
Breathing in and out to relax and awaken, she starts, "Umm, Bill and Tara are ok. Matthew is big."
I wait for the rest of the family roll call.
"Haven't heard from Charlie. Nothing new there." Charlie is the most elusive Scully. I've yet to meet him. I may never meet him.
"And your mom?" I prod gently.
Her whole body quivers and I know I've made an idiotic mistake. Why would William's grandmother understand what Scully has done? I can barely comprehend it. Rubbing her back, I try to undo the damage I've done.
She shakes her head, eyes closed, and forces out, "I, uh, we haven't spoken since ...." Her voice trails to nothingness. She clears her throat and murmurs into my chest, "She hasn't spoken to me since William...." The words are just too painful to say.
Her arms tighten around me and we snuggle closer. I try to impart warmth and relaxation to her spine, soothe her nerves.
Finding her resolve, knowing I want to know, I need to know, she continues, "Monica got Skinner and Doggett to disassemble William's furniture. When I got back, the room was empty. All gone," her voice quavers.
"I wondered if I had dreamt it all." In a childlike voice she asks, "Was I even pregnant?"
She's serious. As gently as I can, I whisper, "Yeah, you were. I was there for the Lamaze classes. Remember?" That was the last straw. She crumbles in my arms crying uncontrollably. Catharsis? I hope so.
I rub her back and will her to empty that reservoir of tears she's accumulated. Her whole body shudders and my heart breaks, again.
I can't tell her it will be all right. It may never be all right.
With a shiver, her sobbing finally stops and she nestles her body against mine. She clears her throat. Her breathing harsh.
"Every cell, Mulder, every cell of my body misses William. There's some sort of ingrained mother memory that hurts so bad. Having you here, really with me," she pauses, grabbing a tissue and blows her nose. "Your presence only makes his absence more. . . ."
Unable to continue, she burrows her arm under my shirt and sniffles against my chest. After so many nights apart, it's hard to believe we are in the same room, together. More than ever, I want to believe.
Her tears dampen my t-shirt. She's still sobbing, quietly, not the body wracking sobs that shook her earlier.
"I know," I assure her. "I know." I rub her neck and shoulders, doing what I can to comfort her. To comfort myself. Her breathing slows. My shirt doesn't get any wetter.
"Every part of me knows that I had to giving up William was doing what was best for him. He deserves a normal life, a care free childhood."
"It's what I want too, Scully," I murmur.
Like Scully's, my mind understands, my heart wants my family, my whole family. I cocoon her with my body, trying to come between her and the pain. Trying to cushion my pain with her body.
"I miss him." I continue rubbing her back. Slowly caressing her shoulders, her spine, her waist.
"I nearly went crazy after I had to leave you." I pick up a few strands of her hair and rub them between my fingers, looking past her, past our pain. "I missed you, Scully, and I missed William so much. I did some really stupid things."
"I watched you. I watched William."
"Mulder," she pulls back. Along with surprise, I hear understanding and affection coloring her words as well as fear.
"Yeah, I know. Stupid."
"Mulder, you could have been...."
"I know, Scully. I couldn't help myself. The only reason I survived, Agent Scully," I tilt her head back so I can look into her overcast eyes. "The only reason," I emphasize quietly, "that I survived was your training, Agent Scully."
"My training?" her voice is stronger now, the question in her voice is strong too.
"You showed me," I kiss her forehead, "you taught me, Agent Scully," I kiss her temple, "that I have a responsibility to my partner." I kiss her cheek. "To take care of myself. Especially when my partner, isn't there to save my ass." Chaste kisses, quick kisses. Kisses to reconnect, to reaffirm.
She's looking into my soul when I see a tiny twinkle appear in those red-rimmed blue eyes. Drawing away a bit, she lowers her head and reminds me, "Yeah, well, you never did learn to keep your fingers out of strange goo."
"But you always saved me, Scully." It's my turn to tell her. "Like you saved me tonight." She raises her eyebrow telling me she needs more explanation.
"I'm so tired Scully. I want to just be. I could lie down here and never get up. Except for you. You give me hope."
"I haven't saved you any more times than you've saved me," she says. Having her so close is relaxing, calming. She's becoming soft and relaxed.
"We save each other," she whispers. We snuggle, enjoying the long denied simple pleasure of each other's company and touch.
"What do we do now, Mulder?"
God I wish I had an answer. All I can think to say is "Get some rest."
"Isn't that my line?" She reaches up and tousles my hair, like she did after I screwed up my little side trip with John Lee Roche.
"Um humm." I shrug my head into the pillow next to her face. She's watching me watch her. Her eyes drop to my lips and then her lips follow.
A kiss of gentle comfort, a kiss of warm remembrance continues with my active participation, to become a kiss of passion. "Scully," I chide, "we aren't going to get much rest if we continue this."
"We will," she promises. "We'll sleep," is her soft refrain. "After," she says, her voice rough with sadness and love. "We'll sleep after."
Authors Notes: It's not over, dammit!
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