After the abduction by Gerry Schnauz, Scully is understandably not coping well. She needs some time off and perhaps a listening ear and an outlet to help bring about calm.
This was a story for a friend of mine who sent out a tweet in June. It took me longer than I would have wanted to get this one finished, but everything happens when it’s supposed to, right? I hope you enjoy it.
September 1996
Scully took off her heels with a tired sigh and placed them into her closet. The dress she had worn to church and then to lunch with her mother, was added to her dry cleaning bag. Rolling her neck, she walked into the bathroom in her underwear.
After using the toilet and washing her hands, she looked at herself in the mirror. Shaking her head, she sighed again as she reached for the towel to dry her hands. Hanging it back up, she went into the bedroom to get dressed.
Putting on a pair of jeans and a long sleeved plum colored shirt, she then put on socks and her boots. She walked out of the room, and stood in front of the hall closet door. Closing her eyes briefly, she sighed deeply.
Opening the door, she took out the large bag of items she had bought a few days ago and sighed once more. Picking up her car keys and cell phone, she walked out of the apartment, locking the door and continuing on to her car.
Driving away, she took a deep breath and glanced in the rear view mirror at the bag in the backseat. This afternoon would be the first time she tried out a relaxation technique Doctor Kossoff had suggested and she was feeling very unsure about her ability to do it.
After the case with Gerry Schnauz, she had sought out Doctor Kossoff, needing to discuss what had happened. Mulder had tried to get her to talk about it, but she had kept insisting she was fine. She knew by the look on his face that he did not believe her, but he remained silent, nodding as his eyes held hers, asking for more, but not demanding it.
Taking a few days off after the case, she did not speak to anyone, save for Doctor Kossoff. It was not just the abduction by Gerry which had caused her to seek out the doctor, though that would have been enough, but recent events as well: Queequeg being killed, the paranoia she had felt during the Patnik case, Mulder’s mother having a stroke, and other numerous stresses of the job.
Doctor Kossoff had smiled her usual smile, which had both aggravated and calmed Scully. Aggravated, because it never came with any words. Instead, she would wait for Scully to fill the silence, sharing why she had sought her out.
Yet even as she felt aggravated, she was calmed. She knew that though she hated talking about anything personal, Doctor Kossoff would not judge her or treat her differently. Going to therapy was hard and upsetting, but when Scully left, she always felt better. At least for a little while.
“Dana,” Doctor Kossoff had said at the end of their last meeting. “What ways do you find help you to relax and find calm?” She smiled and Scully stared at her, not sure she had an answer to that question.
“I… I don’t really have anything specific. I read-“
“Pleasurable books?”
“How do you mean?”
“Something you bought to simply read for pleasure and escape for a while? Not anything for work or related to it?”
“Uh… sometimes. But mostly it’s medical journals, which I do find calming, as strange as it may seem to some,” she had answered with a shrug and a slight smile. “Agent Mulder, for one, always makes a comment that I sure know how to ‘live it up.’ She had chuckled softly and shaken her head.
“Well, that is your field of expertise. And as a therapist, I understand. It’s of interest to you.” Doctor Kossoff had said with a kind smile. “But, I mean more of something you may not consider to be the norm? Do you play any sports? An endorphin rush sometimes can bring us relaxation in its own way. Or maybe you write or paint?”
Scully had looked at Doctor Kossoff, her eyebrows raised, the question remaining unanswered.
“I… I exercise, yes, but I don’t find it relaxing as much as a necessity.” She had shrugged and Doctor Kossoff nodded. “As for writing or painting… I do have a journal, a few actually. But again, it almost feels like something I need to do; my thoughts too crowded at times.”
“Understandable,” Doctor Kossoff had said, smiling kindly once again.
“Painting however,” Scully had said as she shook her head and shrugged her shoulders again. “That’s not a strength I possess.”
“It doesn’t have to be a masterpiece. It’s more of a way to turn your brain off. To relax and focus on what’s in front of you.” Scully had nodded and said she would try it and see if it helped.
On her way home from the appointment, she had stopped at a local craft store. Walking through the aisles, she had breathed in the scent of paints, oils, and canvas. Oddly enough, for someone who was not artistically inclined, she had found the place and the scents very relaxing.
Deciding on a pack of small canvases, she had continued to the paintbrushes, taking her time to find the ones she had liked best. The paints were next and she had been drawn to names like: burnt umber, yellow sunrise, hills of green, ocean blue, mocha brown, black noir, and rusty red. Nodding, she had added many different colors to her cart. Looking at everything she had picked out, she had taken a deep breath, before pushing her cart to the register.
The supplies had sat in the closet for the past couple of days, something she thought about, but had not attempted. Tomorrow was her first day back at work and so today was the day.
There was a park near her place which she would visit sometimes; a park with a decent sized man-made pond and many benches and picnic tables. She had sat on one bench in particular many times when she needed to get away and think, her apartment feeling far too suffocating.
What better place than that to try this out? she thought, although she still felt she would be terrible at this task. You have no artistic ability, Dana. This is going to be a disaster.
Arriving at the park, she turned off the ignition and looked around. It was beautiful in its simplicity, and there were not many people around, of which she was thankful.
“Let’s get this over with,” she mumbled.
Stepping out of the car, she closed her door and open the back one, taking out the large bag of supplies. The car locked, she made her way over to the benches and picnic tables. Placing her bag down on an empty table, she set the portable easel she had bought beside it.
Opening it up, she sighed as she looked at the paint and brushes inside. Looking out towards the pond she nodded her head.
Setting up the easel, she took out a small canvas, and placed it on the stand. Bottles of water, a cup, a rag, and the palette were placed on the table and she took a deep breath.
Remembering Doctor Kossoff words, she took out the tubes of acrylic paints, laying them all in a row. The blank canvas seemed to mock her, waiting to see what she would try to create.
“This is ridiculous,” she muttered, beginning to put the paints away, knowing she would never be able to do this properly. No chance she could find any peace if she was already anxious about making a mistake.
But then, a man walked by, carrying the same type of small easel in his hand that she had purchased. He nodded slightly at her and placed his things on the table ahead and to the left of her. He laid out his supplies and added paint to his palette. Within minutes he was painting with such confidence, she knew she could not give up so easily.
Thinking of what had always brought her calm, she began to add paint to her palette. Taking out the paintbrushes, she chose a larger one, intent on covering most of the top with a rich orange.
As she placed the brush on the canvas and heard the bristles moving across it, something happened. It was as though her mind shut off as she focused only on the colors, finding just the right one, and then blending them to create a new one before adding it to the canvas.
“That’s a real nice painting.” She heard and she jumped. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” It was the man who had arrived and passed her earlier. He was now carrying his items in his hand, obviously finished and heading back for the day.
“Oh, not at all. I… I guess I was more focused than I thought,” she said with a smile as she set down her paintbrush. “Thank you. It’s… it’s nothing really. I…” She shrugged and looked at her painting.
“Is this your first time painting?”
“Other than when I was a child, yeah. My uh… my job is difficult,” she said with a forced chuckle. “A… friend suggested painting as a way to relax. I was actually thinking of leaving when you showed up.” She smiled at him and he looked down with a smile and a nod. “How about you? Have you been painting long?”
“Oh, no. I’ve been doing it for awhile. Sometimes it’s for just a bit, like today, or sometimes longer, when I need extra time away. It’s something I do to, as you said, help me to relax.” He smiled again and she nodded. “But, if this is your first… grown-up painting?” She chuckled and he shrugged with another smile. “It looks good. You did a good job.”
“Thank you,”she said again and he hummed, walking away and leaving her alone in the park.
Looking back at her painting, she tried to see it through his eyes and not focus on the areas she knew held mistakes. It was pretty good, if not rather basic.
Orange, yellow, red, blue, and green, were all combined to create a sunset upon the water. Where… she was not sure, but felt it was from memories of being at the beach as a child and then as she grew up, when she could appreciate it better.
Smiling, she nodded. It was not perfect but she had felt relaxed as she painted it. At her next meeting with Doctor Kossoff, she would have to admit she had been right.
Setting the canvas down onto the table, she set another one in its place. This time she painted with no plan in mind, simply adding color to an empty canvas.
As the sun began to set in earnest, she had three paint covered canvases lying on the table. Her hands had paint on them and there was a small streak of purple across the bottom of her left cheek. She was unaware of it however, as she stared at her paintings.
They were not anything that would be hung in the museum, but she had enjoyed the time she has been painting them. Sitting still, was not really her thing, but she had liked it. Her recent worries and thoughts had disappeared as the brush stroked across the canvas. The sounds of nature around her had helped as well and she felt better than she had in awhile.
Taking a deep breath, she packed up, rinsing off the brushes, wiping them dry and placing them back into the easel. The paints were added and she used the rag to wipe the palette, planning to wash both later at home. Once it was all packed up, she tested the last painting to be sure it was dry.
“Nearly,” she whispered and took another deep breath, looking around the park as the sun disappeared entirely. “I’ll just carry it.”
Gathering up all of her things, she walked out of the park and back to her car.
Arriving at home, she put the supplies away and laid the paintings on the table. Staring at them, she shook her head, still seeing the mistakes beneath the beauty. Sighing, she stepped away and went into the bathroom to start a much needed bath.
Undressing, she caught her reflection in the mirror and smiled as she wiped at the purple paint on her cheek. Pinning up her hair, she stepped into the tub, and sighed in relief, letting the warm water and the calming scent of lavender wash over her.
The phone rang as she stood in her underwear in front of the open dresser drawer and she knew it was Mulder. Not having spoken for a few days, knowing tomorrow she would be back, of course he would want to check in on her ahead of time.
“Scully,” she said, as she picked up the phone and walked back to the dresser, and heard him sigh.
“Hey, Scully,” he said quietly.
“Mulder. Hello.” She smiled as she waited, her hand on her blue satin pajama set.
“Have you eaten? Are you hungry?” She heard the hesitancy in his voice and she smiled.
“I haven’t actually. Did you have something particular in mind?” she asked, as she closed the pajama drawer and reached for pants instead. If he wanted her to meet him somewhere, she should be properly dressed.
“Welllll…” He trailed off as she heard a knock at the door and she exhaled a small chuckle.
Slipping on her pants, she quickly put on a bra, and grabbed a shirt as she walked out of the bedroom, sliding it over her head before she opened the door. She smiled at him as he stood in the hallway in jeans and a dark blue sweater, his phone still at his ear and a bag of Chinese food, which caused her mouth to water, hanging from his arm.
“How do you feel about some Chinese?” he asked sheepishly, hanging up the phone, and she smiled with a shrug.
“That would be okay, I guess.” Her stomach growled loudly and her eyes widened as she finished her sentence. His eyebrows shot up and she put a hand on her stomach.
“More than okay it seems,” he said with a chuckle, and she stepped aside to let him enter.
“I got the usual and…” She turned her head as she closed the door, to see why he had stopped talking, and saw what had caught his attention.
He was staring at her paintings on the table.
Shit… she thought, freezing before stepping forward to collect them from the table. He stopped her with a hand on her wrist, holding it lightly.
“Did you… did you paint these?” he asked her softly, staring at the paintings.
“It’s nothing. Let me move them.” She moved her hand from his grasp and picked up the paintings. He said nothing as she put them on the couch and walked back to the table.
He caught her eye and her stare was enough to propel him into action. He began to take out cartons of food and place them on the table. He turned to reach for the plates as she took out the water pitcher from the fridge and set it on the table. She added silverware as he sat down and placed two glasses on the table beside the plates.
Their plates were filled and they settled into comfortable silence, but she knew he was still thinking about the paintings. He kept glancing at her and she knew he was biding his time.
“So you… uh… the time off has been good?” he asked and she looked up at him, finding nothing but concern in his eyes.
“It has. I’ve um…” she said softly, her head down and her eyes on the table. “I… there’s been a lot that’s happened recently and I…” She sighed, leaning back and closing her eyes briefly.
“Including Gerry?” he asked quietly and she opened her eyes, his own searching her face and she shook her head. He sighed, his eyes becoming harder at her denial once again and she sighed with a shake of her head.
“It’s not just that… Yes, he was the reason I took some time off, but it’s not just him. Although his name has come up most,” she said and then realized what she had done.
“Come up?” he asked and she exhaled deeply.
“I’ve been talking to Doctor Kossoff the past few days.” She kept her eyes on his and she watched them change again. His shoulders fell and he dropped his head.
“I wasn’t coping like I should have… and she was helpful the last time I spoke to her. So…” She finished with a shrug and a sigh and he raised his head, looking at her and searching her face.
“Did it help? Seeing her, I mean?” he asked quietly and she nodded slightly. He nodded back, glancing toward the couch, and she knew he was putting the pieces together.
“It wasn’t just because of the case with Gerry,” she said again and he nodded, looking back at her.
“We have a stressful job,” he said softly and she nodded, placing her folded hands onto the table and looking down. “Can I see them again?” Looking up, she stared at him, his eyes so open.
“Why?” she asked, just as softly. He smiled and stood up, glancing toward the couch again, and then looking back at her, waiting for her permission. She nodded and stood up, following him to the couch.
“They aren’t… it’s just…” She shrugged as he picked one up; the first one she had made. Watching him look at it, she felt nervous, as though she were seeking his approval.
“I like this one,” he said with a smile and she looked back at the painting.
“Thank you, but… it’s just…” She tried to take it from him, but he stopped her. When she looked at him, he smiled.
“It’s not just, Scully. I really like it. The use of colors… the richness of them coming together… it’s very calming. You did a really good job.” He continued staring at it, his eyes traveling across it, stopping in areas, and brushing his thumbs across the canvas.
“I feel like I’ve been here before… that’s weird right?” He smiled at her and she gave him a small smile in return.
“It’s nowhere in particular so… maybe you have.” She shrugged with a light chuckle.
“Can I have this?”
“What? Why would you want it?” she asked with a scoff. He looked at her and frowned.
“Why wouldn’t I? I like it, as I have already stated. It’s calming. And you made it. You made it… in an attempt to feel better after…” He looked at her and sighed, his mouth opening and closing, but no further words spoken.
“Well… I still see the mistakes I made and…”
“Stop,” he said quietly, shaking his head. “Any imperfections you may see, I don’t. And even if I did, I am an intelligent enough man to know not to say anything.” He smiled gently and she smiled back. “So can I have it?”
“You can have it,” she agreed quietly with a shrug. He nodded with a happy smile and looked at the painting again. She watched his expression change, the calm of the painting diminishing, and she knew what he was now thinking about, as it was a fear they both shared. What if her picture had come true and no one had been able to find her in time?
Her heart began to pound and her breathing increased, the fear overtaking her. But then he cleared his throat, looking at her again, his eyes holding hers. He gave her a small smile and he nodded. Taking a deep breath, she let it out and attempted a smile of her own. It was a bit wobbly, but he seemed to understand.
He brought the painting back to the table, and set it down on a chair, as they began to silently clean up their meal and put away the leftovers.
Glancing at her as they finished, he smiled as he picked up the painting. At the door, he turned around, asking one last time without words, if she was okay. She nodded with a small smile, letting him know she was, or on the path to getting there at least, and he nodded back.
“See you tomorrow, Scully,” he said softly and she let out a breath.
“Tomorrow, Mulder.”
He opened the door and walked out, closing it behind him and she walked over to lock it. Turning off the lights, she picked up her two other paintings, and brought them into her bedroom.
Propping them up on the dresser, she changed into the pajamas she had been planning to wear earlier. After using the bathroom and brushing her teeth, she got into bed and sighed.
The light from outside shone through the window and landed on the paintings. She stared at them, remembering the calm she had felt when she was painting in the park. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, the bad dreams, for that night, held at bay.
Yes, she would definitely need to tell Doctor Kossoff that her advice had been beneficial.
The pumphouse, the noise, water churning through a system of pipes, pushing through the surface
I can't stand it.
The reflections, the light, the shine that steals itself into your eyes despite lids closed
I can't stand it.
The voices, the talk, the inane chatter that seems to breed from silence, filling what was not a void
I can't stand it.
The grease on my skin, the hair falling into my eyes, the muscles sighing, lacking caffeine
I can't stand it.
I can't stand the noise, the light, the outside world, the self.
I don't ask for pity, or even understanding. Just, pray to God, leave me alone so I can shut myself away. I will lock myself in the pantry with the oats.
That calm feeling I've been getting lately. Like. It's 2 am. I have a photo shoot tomorrow. I have 3 outfits ready, no idea what to expect, missing half the shit I wanted, not even sure how I'm gonna feel when I get there. This is usual panic mode inducing behavior. Like a million miles an hour running myself into a wall thoughts that spin me out of control and out of my comfort zone and make me feel like retreating back into the shell of a person I was less than a year ago.
Except.
Tonight, I'm calm. I'm excited for tomorrow. I know nothing good is going to come out of it if i don't show up. I also know you can't have a good time sitting around beating yourself half to death with destructive thoughts and expectations.
This recovery thing is interesting. Enlightening. Terrifying. And...amazing. I feel too much all at the same time. And part of that is feeling like there is something wrong with who I am. But. Is there? Or am I just not seeing how not one of us in this world is feeling like there is anything right with us? Maybe you feel the way I do, and hate the whole rest of the world for not being as messed up and awkward as you.
I can't remember a time where I ever really felt anything but that. But..right now...I'm calm. I'm going to do what I want to do tomorrow and make myself feel good for having done it, instead of talking myself out of it 19 times before I even get in the car. I'm just gonna one foot in front of the other remind myself that there is no other me. Just this one. And this one isn't high or drunk or starving..this one is learning how to feel ok with not having all that to dilute who I am.
It's not often I really delve into my recovery path and how I feel about it besides missing my wife and my life. But I'm going to try to focus in on me and what things I need to make myself live a more authentic life. What is life if you don't live it authentically? Being a watered down version of who I am isn't what I am setting out to do. I wouldn't expect anyone to accept that version of myself.
So..as I'm putting off shaving my legs til when I wake up, and cheated the manicure with a set of glue on nails, setting my hair in pincurls to avoid fussing with hot rollers...telling you all how I'm learning to love my new found calm in this world...i hope those of you struggling, and maybe even those that aren't....find some way to start today and everyday a step closer to the authentic you.
POV: You finally stopped letting the noise win and started finding your own frequency. 🕊️ There is a deep, understated power in the "daily reset"—the moments where you look up from the screen, breathe in the cool air, and realize that calm isn't something you find, it's something you create. 🌿✨
Whether it's the way the light hits the palm trees at dusk or those few quiet minutes before the world wakes up, these are the anchors for your peace. 🕯️ We’re trading the "hustle until you burn out" mentality for a more intentional, high-vibe rhythm. It’s about being okay with the slow parts of the journey and trusting that even in the middle of the chaos, you have the power to stay grounded. 🏛️☁️ Take a second to look up, find your light, and remember that you are exactly where you need to be. 🥂💫
Reblog if you’re choosing peace over the noise today and follow for more aesthetic mindfulness, slow living vibes, and daily zen inspo! 🕊️🤎
I finally did it — something I’ve dreamed of since I was little.
My first horseback ride. 🐎
To be honest, I was terrified at first. I mean, when you’re 5’2” and 160 lbs sitting on a 900–2,000 lb animal with a mind of its own… it’s hard not to feel small. My heart was racing, my hands were tense, and I was doing my best to look calm when in reality, every muscle in my body was screaming “what are we doing?!”
But then something happened.
Somewhere between the uneven rhythm of hooves, the smell of the earth, and the quiet of the trail — I started to breathe again. Just… breathe.
I wouldn’t say I was completely relaxed (let’s be real, animals are unpredictable), but I found this strange sense of peace in the moment. Like all the noise in my head got a little quieter.
There was something magical about it — feeling that connection between fear and calm, between control and trust.
And in a small way, it reminded me that sometimes, we don’t have to conquer our fears — we just have to sit with them, hold on, and keep moving forward.
Because sometimes, even a 900-lb horse can help you feel lighter. ✨
"The only Zen you can find on the tops of mountains is the Zen you bring up there." - Robert M. Pirsig.
Sanjay Kumar Mohindroo
Sanjay Kumar Mohindroo. skm.stayingalive.in
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Empower Your Bookshelf: What to Read Next (Hint: It’s Life-Changing)
📚 Ready to empower your bookshelf and your life? 💡
Dive into two must-reads:
✨ V’Empower: Finding Calm Within Chaos and
✨ Empowerment Redefined Find them here and transform your perspective today! 🌟
#EmpowerYourself #BooksToRead #PersonalGrowthJourney
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Oh, this is an easy one! My to-be-read pile is taller than my favorite pair of heels, but at the very top? My own books, of course!
First, there’s V’Empower: Finding Calm Within Chaos, a guide for anyone navigating life’s wild ride and looking to reclaim their inner calm. It’s my personal love letter to empowerment, sprinkled…
