When she wakes, William is gone. As is Mulder, the space beside her cold and empty to the touch. She’s out of bed before she can think, ignoring the protests from her body, her gun cocked and ready between her hands.
Panic grips her, a heavy weight pulsating through her chest, dropping down into her stomach over and over again. Like tailing a suspect, time slows down, her eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness. She listens to the tell-tale signs of feet shuffling across the flooring, peeps through the gap to catch sight of any movement in the shadows. She hears nothing.
Nothing but the faint sound of whispering, Mulder’s voice low and soothing.
Scully relaxes, panic abating. She places the gun on the dresser and pushes the bedroom door open, Mulder’s voice becoming audible.
“…Can you do that for me, Buddy?” he’s asking. “Will you take care of her while I’m gone?”
Gone? Scully freezes. The only place he is going is with them, why did it sound like he was saying otherwise?
Mulder sits on the couch, a blanket wrapped around him for warmth, knees drawn up towards his chest. Scully notes there’s a black shadow that sits between his thighs and chest.
“William,” he mutters, sounding out his name once more. “William, William, William.” His finger strokes the baby’s cheek. “Mine,” he says in awe. “You’re mine.”
Warmth runs through Scully, ridding her completely of any prior panic or worry she had felt before. William was gone from his crib but she needn’t have worried, he was safe here with Mulder.
She must have made a sound for William startles, a brief moan falling from his mouth, and Mulder’s head darts up. Their eyes connect across the room and Scully smiles apologetically for disturbing their moment.
“Come here,” says Mulder gently, a moment later and without a seconds thought she is going over to them.
“Sorry if I woke you,” he says when she sits.
Scully shakes her head, not quite sure what it was that actually woke her. Maybe it was just the absent presence of William in the room.
“Neither of us could sleep so I thought…” He shrugs, looking down at William.
However startled he might have been, he got over it quickly. His eyes shut, mouth slightly open, tiny specs of saliva falling from his mouth. Scully smiles at the sight.
“What were you saying to him before?”
She keeps her gaze on William, remembering what she had heard, knowing she had missed the beginning. Will you take care of her while I’m gone? She didn’t like what it implied.
“I, um…” She hears his stutters and her stomach clenches even more. Whatever he has to say, it isn’t good, like she suspected.
His hand touches her cheek, fingers soothing across the skin like he did earlier with William. The action makes her look up, imploring him.
“I don’t think it’s fair to drag William or you around the country with me,” he says. The air grows stale, his touch on her skin cold. What was he saying?
“He- you both- deserve be surrounded by family. I don’t have family anymore, it’ll be easier for me to disappear.”
Scully shakes her head, not wanting to hear it. “We’re your family, Mulder,” she states, looking down at William then back at him.
He smiles, reaching to grasp her hand. “Yes you are,” he agrees. She can still hear the awe laced in his voice. “And that’s why I’m telling you this. If anything where to happen to you or to Will while we were on the run, I couldn’t live with that, Dana, I couldn’t live with myself.” She can hear what he’s saying but she doesn’t want to believe it. She tries to feel angry over the decision instead, letting it build in her chest, preparing herself to lash out at him.
“I know you see reason Scully,” he’s saying and she shuts her eyes against his words because Yes! Yes, she does see reason. “Don’t let your hurt get in the way of that.”
Her fists clench as she turns away, feeling the tears start to well. Mulder reaches for her hand once more.
“I don’t want our last night to be spent with you hating me, Scully.”
She lets out a breath, her eyes reopening and looks down to William soundly asleep, unaware of the turmoil around him.
“This is why you couldn’t sleep?” she asks.
He nods. “Partly.” At her questioning look he explains. “I don’t want morning to come.”
It dawns on her then. He doesn’t want to leave and why would he want to? If they lived any other life, lived as any other people, this situation wouldn’t have presented itself. They could stay here, a happy family, safe in their home.
But they weren’t safe in their home. Mulder wasn’t safe in this home. His being here now was dangerous, to himself and to them. A man wandering alone was much more conspicuous than a man, a woman, and a baby. Mulder going alone would protect him and them.
If something were to happen to you or Will, I couldn’t live with that, I couldn’t live with myself.
He didn’t want to leave, but necessity forced him too, she knew that now.
Scully stands, wiping at her nose and eyes and reaching her arms out towards the bundle Mulder holds.
“I’m going to put him back to bed,” she says and Mulder nods, passing William to her.
He’s stretched out when she returns, his stare glued on the light from outside the windows. Dawn. Morning was near.
Scully climbs onto the couch, slides herself along his body, head coming to rest on his shoulder. His arms wrap around her, face falling into the top of her head. He’s warm, a furnace constantly turned on, and Scully finds herself succumbing to sleep but like Mulder, she too doesn’t want morning to come.
“When will I see you again?” she whispers into his shoulder.
“I’m not sure,” he replies honestly. “But I’ll try to keep in contact when I can, when it’s safe.” His hand absentmindedly trails up and down her arm and Scully struggles to keep the sleep away. “I won’t forget you, Dana.”
She snuggles into him, eyes closed, breathing in his scent. She won’t forget him, either.
“I’ll try to send you pictures of William growing up, I’ll tell him about you.” She won’t let William forget who Mulder is.
He presses a kiss to her temple, whispers, “Thank you.”
Mulder lets out a deep breath, and sleep is tickling her feet by this point, she’s ready to slip under.
“You should sleep Scully,” he says. “You need it.”
He wasn’t wrong, a harrowing birth such a William’s, her body needed to restore itself. Besides, she’ll be woken up in a few hours by an angry, hungry baby. Yet, there was one more thing she needed to tell him.
“Mulder.”
“Yes?”
“Please be here when I wake up.”
There’s a small hesitation but he squeezes her in his arms.
“I will be,” he promises.
Finally, she lets sleep pull her under, warm and content in Mulder's arms.
Cersei’s fingertips thrum against the table. Her nails click against the dark wood. She is tired of waiting for men. The world would be better off without them, she thinks. They’re all treacherous scum seeking to feed off of the fairer sex. And once their appetite has been satiated they leave in search of something new.
But a queen? A queen is so much more than a woman. A queen is power. And Cersei will burn anyone who stands in her way.
The Mountain’s towering presence draws her eyes to the door of her solar. Just behind him stands the sorry excuse of a pirate who would call himself her king. As if I would ever suffer another fool by my side. I’ll have the Mountain snap his neck before his breath ever so much as touches me.
“You’re back. Good. Am I to assume you were successful?”
Euron Greyjoy tries to saunter towards her. He only succeeds in repulsing her. The weeks he spent away have diluted her memory of him. He is fouler than she remembered. The odor of stagnant ocean water can not be masked by the, rather obvious, perfumes he has brought back from across the Narrow Sea. Cersei looks towards her shield.
The Mountain strikes out a thick arm to stop his advances. Greyjoy lifts a dark eyebrow at her but doesn’t move any further. Cersei likes this. Who knew she would one day be able to command men with a simple tilt of her head? The Mountain drops his arm but stays standing next to Euron.
“Yes, my queen,” his leer is more than evident in his voice, “I’ve brought back the Golden Company just as we agreed. Now, I expect to be properly compensated.”
Cersei leers back. She is queen, and a lion. She will not be cowed by an irreverent squid.
“Ah, yes. Your compensation...”
//
It’s certainly not what I was expecting. Not that I know what I was expecting to begin with but... Dany accepts Jorah’s hand as he helps her dismount the finicky Northern mare. Her eyes wander to Jon who is looking towards Winterfell. Nevermind that. I’m sure it is more inviting, warmer, on the inside. Much like its former king.
“It is a sight I did not think I would ever see again. You have made one of my greatest dreams possible, my queen.”
Daenerys turns towards the old bear. She can see true thankfulness in his eyes. It is a homecoming for more than one northerner, today. In the flurry of action she had forgotten that Jorah would most likely be reuniting with family. She is glad one of her oldest supporters will soon fulfill their biggest wish because of her.
“My dear friend, it has been a long journey but you are finally back home in the north.” She clasps his arm. “Mayhaps the north will become a home of sorts for me as well.” Underneath her hand she can feel him tense at her words. She knows her bear holds no love for the wolf that is slowly, but surely, melting the ice around her heart. Jorah’s jealousy is flattering but she knows what she wants.
With a smile Daenerys leaves Jorah and walks towards Jon. The white landscape and the cold makes her uncomfortable but she will never admit it. What is a little snow and winter wind to a dragon made of fire? Jon remains facing towards Winterfell when she finally arrives at his side.
“We are almost there. I am eager to meet your family, Jon Snow.”
Jon hums his agreement.
They’ve stopped to arrange any last minute details before arriving at Winterfell. Her children were sent somewhere close to the keep but far away enough to not cause panic. Jon had insisted. She was loathe to part from them but ultimately yielded. He probably knows the northerners better than she. Tyrion, and Varys are discussing some trivial matters with the Unsullied about what to expect in regards to their welcome. Details, details, details. I’m tired of waiting.
Daenerys touches Jon and gently turns him away from Winterfell and towards her. He moves stiffly in the cold. I will be sure to warm him up later in his Lord’s chambers. “You have been awfully quiet. More so than usual. Should I be worried?”
Jon’s eyes slowly warm at her words. The corner of his lips upturn in a reassuring smile. No wonder Jorah is jealous. His worry over her is obvious now. In her very rare moments of worry, or anxiety he is always there to reassure her. She is quite sure he is in love with her. She herself doesn’t love him. Yet. I could. I am in danger of it. I feel it.
“No. There is nothing to worry about. I will speak with the Northern lords and make them understand that you are here to fight with us.” He pauses to collect his thoughts. “They will see you for what you are.”
Those words again. Just like before they light a fire within her. He sees her for what she is. A liberator. A savior. A queen.
His queen.
The breaker of chains looks up at the last King of the North. He looks like he is holding himself back from a great emotion. He must want to hold me now. Daenerys wouldn’t care but he has been adamant in avoiding any kind of public intimacy for fear of repercussion to their political alliance. She admires his patience and fortitude. As mother of dragons she forgets how it must be for the rest of the world. To always have to care what others think or do. To not take without asking. Always waiting for permission. What a bleak existence that must be.
A shout from behind breaks their tension. It is time to move again. Jon nods at her and leaves to mount his horse.
Daenerys watches his cloak flap behind him like black wings. Soon she’ll meet his people. His family. Soon she’ll learn more about the king who gave away his kingdom for love. For me.
//
It’s cold and the days are getting shorter. Gilly is used to it so she doesn’t complain. Everyone is in a frenzy. A horn of some sort is signaling the arrival of Jon Snow and his aunt. Daenerys Targaryen. The name sounds funny to her but what does she know of queens and dragons?
“Gilly, come! He’s here!”
Gilly looks at Sam in mild bemusement. He sounds like a child in his excitement. Gilly adjusts Little Sam on her hip and follows him to the railing that overlooks the courtyard. There is so much noise that Little Sam squirms in curiosity but Gilly strengthens her hold. It wouldn’t do for him to leave her arms. Not with soldiers and dragons in their midst.
“Where are the dragons, Sam?”
His eyes never waver from the action underneath. “Eh, I don’t know. Perhaps they’re waiting somewhere in the Wolfswood?”
Sam’s words do nothing to assuage her concern. She has never seen a dragon. But she has seen creatures of ice. She isn’t sure that creatures of fire are any better.
There is a change in the air and Gilly focuses on the men and women in the courtyard. There are soldiers in black leather with dark, sun-kissed skin she has never seen before. Exposed skin and no furs? How are they not freezing? Their armor is useless this far north.
A head of white, yellowish hair stands off by the entrance to the keep. She, for Gilly can see her fair features, is surrounded by guards. That must be the dragon queen. Then where is Jon Snow...
Gilly finds him. His head of black hair is walking towards Sansa Stark. Gilly inhales her surprise. The Lady opens her arms and holds Jon Snow in a welcoming embrace. In the small amount of time Gilly has been in Winterfell she has noted how restrictive Sansa Stark is with her affection and touch. Gilly brushes Litte Sam’s hair back. She doesn’t think she has ever seen the Lady of Winterfell touch someone so intimately before.
She wonders where Lady Arya is. If Sam is correct, she was the sibling Jon Snow would talk about the most during their time at the Night’s Watch. It seems she is not here to welcome her cousin home.
“...queen Daenerys Targaryen.”
“Oh.” Sam mutters. “Oh, no.” No one is kneeling in the courtyard. Isn’t it part of their customs? To kneel? She read that somewhere, she is sure of it. But no one is kneeling when Jon Snow introduces his aunt to the people of Winterfell.
Gilly is confused. Is he no longer king?
Little Sam pulls at his father’s cloak until Sam relents and carries him.
Daenerys Targaryen walks towards Jon Snow and Sansa Stark. Unlike her soldiers, the queen is dressed in thick white furs that surely keep her warm. Gilly feels sorry for the men.
“Winterfell is yours, your grace.” Sansa Stark’s voice carries in the stillness of the moment.
Gilly doesn’t believe her. She has seen this woman care for her keep like Gilly herself cares for Little Sam. Daenerys Targaryen seems pleased, though. “Is Winterfell no longer the Starks’? What is going on, Sam?”
Sam continues to look at Jon Snow as he leads his aunt to the inside of Winterfell. “I‘m not sure, Gilly. All I know is this complicates everything.” Gilly and Sam watch how the dragon queen’s eyes follow Jon Snow everywhere he goes. “Jon, what have you done?”
//
“He’s almost here.” Bran says. “Observe and take in as much as you can. Go.”
//
The serving girl leaves the godswood behind her. She picks up her drab skirts and makes her way toward the courtyard. The king is come back with a Targaryen. Her curiosity makes her run fast and nimble as she weaves her way through the soldiers and serving folk.
“Watch it, girl. You near ran me over!”
Anis doesn’t stop. Her hazel eyes drink in everything they can. The horses, the people, the carts. She perched herself atop a stack of empty vegetable crates to get a better view. She anxiously awaits for a sign of dragons in the overcast sky. The Lannister imp is here, as is a bald plump man.
Varys. His name is Varys.
Anis has never met them before. But names are easy to come by. She notices the soldiers are well trained. Even in their poorly made winter garb they show no signs of discomfort.
That must be the Unsullied.
There is another kind of soldier in the courtyard. They are quite different and seem to be faring worse than the Unsullied. Dothraki. They are speaking a strange mixture of the common tongue and a language Anis has never heard before. Nevertheless, she listens and understands a few phrases.
“Cold...Khalessi...Snow”
“...Gold...lions...burn”
“...food...food...food...”
Anis turns her attention towards the king. He has finally returned to Winterfell.
He’s finally here. Will he recognize me after all these years? Do I want him to recognize me?
Anis pushes these strange thoughts away. She is a simple serving girl. She has no ties to the king. She is only here to watch and observe. And so she does.
[ These are little snippets from a s8 fic idea. I don’t know if I’ll ever get around to writing it. But I’ve had it in my drafts for the past couple of months so I might as well post some of it, lol. They haven’t been edited or anything so sorry for any and all weirdness! ]
prompt: @emcarstairrs prompted #97 ‘i’ll pick you up at the airport’ for kalagang from this list.
word count: ~300
note: this is a happy au in which that thing with wolfgang never happens and all is well!!
'I'll pick you up at the airport,' he tells her in what could be German or Hindi or maybe even Swahili since he was last with Capheus. But he's not focusing much between the brilliance of her smile as she stands in her room, throwing whatever she can into her bag and listing all the places she wants to go, see, be.
(He intervenes at one point in packing because she is going to need something to stave off the chill of the nights, but maybe it's ultimately useless – given the way that Will and Riley are amused by this train of thought – because they probably won't be experiencing the outdoors a lot, at least in the immediate future.)
((Kala blushes as she zips up her suitcase and he grins.))
Wolfgang makes a few wrong turns in Charles de Gaulle Airport, but it's good to keep moving as Kala sits with anxious-excitement thousands of feet in the air, so he walks with Will, who tries to prepare him for what he's going to feel, but doesn't he already know? They've all experienced it. But he's not capable of pushing back, so he just listens as Riley occasionally visits to brush her hand against his as Nomi keeps an eye on the screens they walk by to track Kala's flight.
Sun is sitting at the gate ahead and she gives him a brief smile. She's also sitting next to Kala and they're breathing together. They could all take a minute to really breathe.
It seems like it takes the plane a fucking lifetime to land, but there's a moment when she's coming through the gate and he sees her, really sees her and there's no possible way to describe it, that fundamental shift of how he perceives the world. He's sure Kala could maybe put it into words, but for now he touches her face and presses his forehead against hers and experiences it.
The Element of Surprise ➢ Chapter one: Of Broken Hearts and Goodbyes He swore he could taste the sweetness of chai tea in his tongue. There, from the darkness of his apartment in Berlin, Wolfgang actually thought he could hear the ever so familiar buzz of a restaurant, and the painful clench in his chest was almost as unbearable as the tingling sensation of hope building in his stomach. Kalagang - set three months after the end of season one. Read on [AO3] [ff.net] A huge thanks to @realdiepie, who’s provided me with inspiration and motivation to write this… You’re the best!
s8 fic | within/without | general | psychic!scully | based on fanart by @mypanicface | ao3 |
Based upon @mypanicface 's art Part One: Slow Healing. The concept of this is all her, I just liked that it fit my psychic!scully theory.
@today-in-fic | @mypanicface |
Here
She wasn’t alone.
An arm lies across her body, a chest heaves- pressing into her back with every exhale, breath lingers on the back of her neck.
The scent of Mulder surrounds her. She looks down at her hands that still hold the shirt, her breath caught, scared that if she even breathes it will just be an illusion.
“If I knew you missed me that much I’d have come home sooner,” he laughs but Scully is taken aback by the sound of his voice. His voice! A sound she hadn’t heard in months, loud and clear in her ears. Tears start to form in her eyes.
“Mulder?” she cautiously says, his name muttered for the first time in weeks. “Are you really here?”
She tries to keep her scepticism away but that fear to believe was too strong. What if he wasn’t really here? What if she was finally meeting a breaking point and this was the form it decided to show itself in?
But finally she hears the sentence she needs to hear.
“I’m here, Scully.”
She lets herself fall back into him, allowing him to catch her, trusting that he would, knowing that he would.
She lets the tears fall freely, sobs an, “Oh, Mulder…”
“Shh, Dana,” he soothes and she quietens instantly. “Believe I’m here and I’ll always be here.”
The Element of Surprise ➢ Chapter five: Fading To Black Wolfgang hated himself at that moment. He hated himself with every fibre of his being; with every jolting nerve and every painful breath he took. Living had become a burden more than it was a gift. And as much as he tried to tell himself everything would be okay, as much as he’d like to believe it, there was still this realistic side of him that saw things for what they truly were. It knew that he was stuck being a spectator to his own live; observing himself and the others around him break piece by piece right in front of his eyes. Read on [AO3] [ff.net] Here’s another one, you guys! A very angsty one, at that… I do hope you enjoy it, and I’ll try my best to post the next one before monday!
