An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 2/?
Fandom: The X-Files
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Relationships: msr - Relationship
Characters: Dana Scully, Fox Mulder, Walter Skinner
Additional Tags: Post-Colonization (X-Files), post ITWB, AU, Angst, Violence, Super Soldiers, Torture, angst fest
Summary:
Tumblr prompt from frangipanidownunder: Post-col searching for William but instead of finding him, Mulder and Scully are separated and have to find each other too. Angst. Torture. The works.
The second part of the series for anon prompt- established MSR, this time, post IWTB. Scully is sick and Mulder tries to help. Pretty angsty. Sorry.
The alarm blared and Mulder groaned and rolled over, “Scully.” Nothing. “Scully!” He put his hand on her shoulder and shook her, “Scully, the alarm.”
Scully threw an arm out and swiped at the clock, it crashed to the floor still blaring. She shoved her head under her pillow, ignoring the incessant beeping and Mulder’s droning.
“What the hell?” Mulder climbed out of bed, clad only in his boxers and walked around to Scully’s side to crouch down and shut off the alarm. He placed it back on her nightstand and tugged the pillow off of her.
“Mulder!” She groaned and pulled the pillow back over her head.
“Fine, I’ll take a shower first, can you start the coffee?” She didn’t answer as he walked away. Under the hot spray of the shower he wracked his brain about what he could have done to upset her. She was quiet last night, but that wasn’t abnormal for Scully, she was quiet most evenings after a long day at the hospital. They had watched a movie; Scully dozed, curled up on her side of the couch, her glasses slipping down her nose, medical file propped precariously in her lap. Nope, pretty normal night. He thought back further. They had fought that past weekend. Scully was getting antsy in the house, it wasn’t her fault, but he knew it wasn’t his either. He couldn’t risk leaving or exposing himself. They yelled for the better part of the evening and then made love. He shook his head. They had fucked. Hard. They had gone weeks without being intimate, Scully always clad in her pajamas, her back towards him when he finally slipped into bed. But that night, she jumped him and he took advantage of it. Had he hurt her? “Fuck it,” he mumbled as he turned off the water and dried himself off. He wasn’t playing games with her. If she was mad, he would let her be mad. Scully was not shy about voicing her opinions, she would talk when she was ready.
Mulder walked back into the bedroom, naked and toweling off his hair. Scully was still in bed, pillow over her head. He sat on the bed and tentatively lifted the pillow off of her. She groaned and squeezed her eyes shut. Mulder pulled the pillow all the way off and rubbed the hair off of her face. She was burning up and her cheeks were flush. She was sick. And he was an asshole. Scully pushed his hand away, “will you call the hospital for me?” She didn’t open her eyes, but swallowed roughly, covering her face with her hands.
Mulder replaced the pillow over her head and headed to his office. She was really sick if she was calling out of work, if he was calling out of work for her. “Fuck,” he couldn’t call for her, he grabbed her cellphone from her purse and headed back to the bedroom, nearly slamming into her as she made her way, presumably to get her phone.
“You can’t call for me,” she sighed.
He nodded and handed her the phone and she shuffled back into the bedroom. She hid how bad she was feeling, well. Her voice took on the professional tone she reserved for “Dr. Scully” as she asked her nurse manager to page the on call doctor to cover for her. When the call was over she dropped her phone on the table and rolled back into bed. “What’s going on? She opened one questioning eye towards him. “You’re burning up, what else?”
“Just a headache and body aches.” Her eyes closed and then she waved her hand at him, “it’s not that.”
Mulder’s chest tightened painfully, “are you sure?”
“I work with sick kids, catching something is part of the gig.”
He nodded, suddenly self-conscious that he was still naked with the towel around his neck, “do you need anything?”
“No, thanks. I think I am just going to sleep some more.” She rolled over, back towards him as he dug through the dirty clothes on the floor, gabbing his go to sweats and t-shirt. He closed the bedroom door behind him and made his way to the office. He closed that door too.
Mulder pinched the bridge of his nose and squinted at the computer screen. It was passed noon and he had been digging through the Internet all morning. Ultimately, like always, coming up empty handed. His stomach growled and he realized the dull ache was due to lack of caffeine; Scully didn’t make coffee that morning. “Shit, Scully,” he suddenly remembered that she was home, sick in bed. The house was quiet and dark: normal. He pushed their bedroom door open and quietly inched towards the bed and put a hand on Scully’s him. She was shaking. Shit. “Scully?” He peeled the covers off of her; she was hotter than she had been this morning, her body shaking violently. She blinked at him for a moment, her eyes glassy. “Hey, Scully,” he cupped her damp face lightly as he pulled her up to his chest, her body instinctively curling around itself, her hands balled into fists under her chin pressed between them.
She lurched with chills and her skin was warm to the touch even through her pajamas. “S’cold.”
“No, Scully, you’re burning up.” He held her body away from his and she swayed. He held her shoulders until he was certain she wouldn’t fall over and started unbuttoning her pajama top, exposing her breasts and then belly. He slid it down her arms and threw it to the floor then slowly stood her up and pulled off the bottoms and her panties in one swift tug. She looked small, smaller than normal; naked and shivering in front of him, her milky skin flushed pink, eyes glassy. “Let’s get you in the bath okay?” She didn’t answer but walked with him, his arm around her soft body, into the bathroom. Mulder sat Scully on the toilet as he ran the bath, making sure it wasn’t freezing, but cool enough to lower her body temperature. “Come on,” he pulled her up and helped her into the tub; she flinched when her feet hit the cool water and audibly gasped when she lowered her body into it.
“Fuck, Mulder, its freezing,” she cursed him through clenched teeth, her body shuddering.
“No, you’re just very hot.” Then he smirked. She was hot. Scully was pushing 50 but she looked great. Her body had toned up and she wore her age well on he face, small wrinkles in the corners of her eyes and mouth showed that she lived her life hard, but always smiled a lot. His favorite things were those lines by her mouth when she smiled. They were not there now, her mouth was tight, but he couldn’t help himself from brushing two fingers to the corner of her lips. Still so soft. His Scully.
He wet a washcloth and moved it over her hot body, goose bumps broke out over her skin, “I want to get out,” she made a move to stand and Mulder pressed at her shoulders. “Mulder,” she protested, “I want to get out.” Her clouded mind was clearing and she was uncomfortable with Mulder taking care of her. She hated the vulnerability that came with being naked in the bathtub, Mulder’s hands moving over her body like a worried hen.
“You fever hasn’t broken yet, give your body some time to cool off, Scully.” His voice was firm but caring. He did care for her, she knew that, but it seemed like such a long time since she had seen this side of him. It felt foreign. She thought to the past weekend when his hands had been on her body again, but in a different way. He had clawed at her, held on to her so tightly that he left bruises. He threw her on to the bed and ravished her body, making her disappear under him. It had been awhile since she had seen that side of him too. She was sore for days, but it felt good. Now she just wanted away from him, she didn’t want him to see her like this. This wasn’t who they were anymore. Not who she was. “No, Mulder,” she pushed herself up and stood staring at him, her knees shaking. He looked at her and she shifted her eyes to the towel rack behind him. He took the hint and handed her a towel and moved out of the way as she stepped out of the tub but stayed close enough to help her if she needed it. She didn’t.
She wrapped herself in the towel and stalked into the kitchen. Mulder unplugged the drain and then followed her, leaning against the kitchen counter as she dug through the medicine cabinet. “Don’t we have any Tylenol?” She asked without looking at him. He didn’t know, so he didn’t say anything. Finally she found what she was looking for and slung back a few pills then held her mouth under the kitchen faucet. When she was done she wiped her mouth on her towel and looked at Mulder. “Thanks for being there.” She meant it, but the words felt stale in her mouth. She was thankful for him she always had been, but she was tired. She was tired of him, tired of this life. Just tired. “I’m going to go back to bed,” she said as she pushed passed him. He didn’t follow.
Mulder stood in the kitchen for a moment, listening to the click of the bedroom door and then the small noises of the quiet. He can a hand over his face and pulled a beer from the fridge and sat in his recliner. He missed Scully. She was down the hall, and she was his, but she wasn’t the same. They were not the same. He missed touching her and her hands on him. He took a swig of his beer and pushed himself up and headed towards the bedroom. She was back in bed, but still wrapped in the towel and she was awake. Her eyes followed him as he made his way around then bed. They closed when he moved behind her, his lips at the base of her neck. She could smell the beer on his breath. “I love you, Scully,” he whispered into her damp hair. She shivered but not because of the fever. Mulder wrapped his arm around her tightly and pulled her to his chest. She felt the rhythm of his heart in her back and it pounded in rhythm with her headache. His love was always in sync with her pain.
