Category: MSR/Vignette Keywords: the truth at last, what’s meant to be is mean to be.
Spoilers: S7, but let’s pretend ‘all things’ never happened, Pre-Requiem. Sequel to Small Knowledge— you’ll probably need to read it for this to make sense.
beta by glorious gwen
“Mulder, it’s me.”
She’s keeping a tight rein on her emotions, modulating her voice. She has to keep it all together until she can see him, say the words, feel her fingers touch his face.
“Scully what is it? Are you all right?”
He’s already halfway to the door, he knows that tone of voice. The last time he heard it she’d asked him to bring her the suitcase she kept in the trunk of the car. She was dying, she needed answers, she needed him.
“Something’s happened, Mulder…”
She hesitates, maybe’s she’s waited too long to reach out for him, maybe whatever chance she had has long gone. But she wants to believe that she’s read the signs in time, seeing at last that in a universe of possibilities, fate’s mated the two of them.
“I’m on my way…”
“No, you don’t have to…”
She offers him a way out, out of habit, out of fear. What if she is too late, what if what’s been underground all these years has finally died a natural death? She feels a wave of remorse, and curses herself for being brave enough to face everything else that’s been put in her path, everything but the fact she loves him.
“I’ll be there before you know it.”
He keeps his voice calm. He will not fail her, even though he can taste his own panic at the back of his throat, even though he’s terrified his world is ending. It’s late, it’s cold out, and none of it matters as he hurtles down the stairs of his building two at time. He thought maybe after Amber LaPierre, a visit to a ghostly playground, starlight and Samantha, that he could move on–move toward Scully and finally live the truth he’s known for so long. He was going to tell her– show her–it’s just that he was waiting for the right time.
As soon as he hits the last step, he starts running to the car.
You can’t die, he prays, as he turns the key in the ignition. He feels her gravitational pull, driving to Georgetown like a man possessed, and gets there in fifteen minutes. It usually takes a half hour, but time is something Mulder thinks is in short supply now.
He doesn’t bother to knock, letting himself in with his key. The apartment is dark except for a small lamp next to the sofa. Scully’s sitting there, legs folded underneath her. She’s wearing blue silk pajamas, and the pale light casts wavering shadows over her. It doesn’t matter how much darkness surrounds them, it never has. She’s a bright angel, and when she looks at him, he sees the rest of his life, a world without end.
You’re not dying, he tells himself, as he shrugs off his jacket and tosses it on a chair. You have to live, Scully. He will dare her, dare the gods if he has to. Mulder walks over and sits beside her, barely making a sound, barely breathing. Everything is suspended in some warp of time, and now he’s waiting for her.
Slowly, she looks up and sees the taut line of his jaw, the way his eyes are dark with sorrow. This isn’t supposed to go like this. She wants him to feel what she finally feels, something wild pushing to break free, something like joy.
Something like love.
“I need to tell you something.”
He moves closer, drapes his arm behind her, resting it on the sofa.
“You’re sick again…That’s it, isn’t it?”
He whispers the words, and his eyes shut at the weight of what he’s said. He will never leave her, he will never love anyone else. You can’t die, he tells himself. I won’t let you die.
She watches him tense all over, readying himself for the blow.
Scully moves toward him, takes her hand and cups his face, “No, Mulder, I’m not sick…I’m alive, really alive.”
His eyes flutter open in time to see her lean into him, brush her lips against his, press her open mouth to his; and then all he knows is she’s warm, so warm. And he’s kissing her hard and pressing her back against the cushions and something in him has been set loose, and he won’t stop, can’t stop. Flesh and blood has given him the all the explanation he needs.
Somehow, he does stop, pulls away enough to speak. “This is what you wanted me to know.”
“Yes,” she whispers. “Tell me it’s not too late.”
He gets up and slowly pulls her to her feet, holds her by the hand and backs his way into her bedroom. There’s only the light coming in from the street, and he carefully leads her to edge of the mattress. Slowly, they sit down and undress each other. He pulls back the sheets and they ease into the bedding.
“What comes next, Mulder?” She smiles as she asks him. She means after tonight.
“Whatever you want, Scully.” He knows what she’s really asking. “For as long as you’ll have me.” It’s no small knowledge, it’s a revelation.
And the two of them start that slow headlong slide into each other, into their future.