Revelations (PG-13)

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The detective was still talking, but Scully’s eyes were roaming the squad room.  She couldn’t spot him and tendrils of fear grew stronger.  “Excuse me; I need to find my partner.”


“Of course.  We have what we need.  Try to get some rest.”


She nodded and headed toward the door.  Where was he?  He was devastated and she knew he was blaming himself.  He was nowhere in the building and her unease grew.  She stepped outside and looked up and down the street.  There was no one in sight.


She turned toward the wharf, only a street away.  Fog was beginning to creep in and she quickened her steps.  There, standing at the edge, a darker shape in the dark as the mist grew at his feet.  If it hadn’t been so clichéd she would have wanted to laugh.  If there was anything to laugh about, if she knew for certain he wasn’t thinking of jumping.


He startled when she took his arm.  That bothered her more than anything else so far.  For as long as she could remember he had sensed her, known where she was in any room instinctively.  He had been so deep inside himself he hadn’t felt her.  Okay, Spooky thought, but true.




He didn’t look down at her, but after a moment he allowed her to pull him from the edge, physically if not emotionally, and back toward the police station.  Instead of heading inside, she led him toward the car.  She took the driver’s side and he didn’t protest.


He didn’t speak at all, staring out the window.  She tried to keep from watching him and for the most part succeeded.  When she pulled up to the motel, she turned to him.  “Let me have your key.  Wait here.  I’ll be right back.”


He nodded slightly and handed her his key; after a moment she let herself out.  Scully hurried to his room first, throwing everything into his suitcase, then to her room.  She was mostly packed already, throwing her makeup bag into her suitcase.  Taking them both downstairs she checked out and returned to the car.  He was still sitting there; she couldn’t tell that he had moved at all.


He didn’t bother to ask where they were headed.  Their plane didn’t leave until in the morning, but he didn’t care.  She drove north putting distance between them and the case.


He had been the first in the room.  He had been too late, they had been too late.  She couldn’t get the sight out of her mind, he must be so much worse.  The children had been kept in one room, the living sharing space with the dead.  She knew that the last two had been dead less than 48 hours. 


He wouldn’t be killing any more children, but the damage he had already done before Mulder had caught him was devastating.  Why hadn’t they been called in earlier?  No, don’t go there.  It wouldn’t help.


When her eyes grew heavy, she began looking for a hotel.  They weren’t near a town, but she found a motel on the highway.  There were several cars already there, so she pulled in.


He still didn’t speak, but she knew he wasn’t asleep.  “I’ll be right back.”


Again he only nodded.  She needed to get back to him.  As she stepped up to the counter she made her decision.  “I need a room for one night, two beds.”


The boy barely looked up, just shoving the card toward her.  She signed, using her personal credit card and picked up the two keys he laid on the counter.   Once again she hurried back to him and when he saw her, he forced himself out of the car.  They met at the trunk and she opened it.  He lifted out both suitcases but allowed her to take hers.  He glanced down at his key and led her inside. 


He opened the door and was startled when she followed him inside.  “I’m okay.”


“Possibly, but we’re sharing the room.”


He just looked at her for a moment, then kind of nodded and sat his suitcase down on the dresser, leaving the luggage carrier for her.


“I think we’re both exhausted, Mulder.  I’m going to get ready for bed.”


He nodded, no innuendo was forthcoming.  She opened her suitcase, then retreated into the bathroom and changed into her pajamas.  She was well covered when she emerged in her men’s style pjs and took the bed closest to the bathroom.


He took over the facilities and returned quickly in pajamas bottoms and a t-shirt.


“If you want to watch TV - “


He shook his head and crawled into the other bed.




“It’s okay.”  Hand caressed cheek.  “It’s just a dream.”


She shuddered and sat up, moving slightly aside to give him room to sit.  “I, I thought you’d be the one with nightmares tonight.”


“I would, if I was sleeping,” was his quiet response.


“You need the rest,” was her automatic response but they both seemed to ignore it.  “Do you want to talk - “


The shake of his head stopped her, but he found her hand and held it.  She took a chance and leaned against him.  She could tell he was startled, but almost instantly his arm went around her. 


She wanted to assure him he had done everything he could, that he had saved countless lives in the future, but he knew that.  He didn’t necessarily believe it, but he knew it.


“Think you can sleep now, Scully?”


“Maybe.  Stay here?”


“What?”  She could feel him look down at her most likely in disbelief.


“We’d sleep better.”  She steeled herself for the innuendo, but still it didn’t come, so she slipped back down into the sheets, giving him room to do the same.


The hesitation was minimal, but he did recline next to her.  She needed to give him comfort, assurances, so she cuddled into his side.  Okay, this was more forward than she had ever been around him, always maintaining that line they didn’t cross.  The sight of him looking down into the water from the wharf returned to her.  Had she seen him this low before?


She realized his breathing was already evening out and he was relaxing, though his arm around her was still firm.  He had to be exhausted.  She wasn’t sure he had slept at all since they had hit the ground here.  That relaxed her as well and they fell asleep in each others arms.




She woke alone, but heard the shower in the bathroom.  That meant he hadn’t been awake that long, good.  He’d gotten some rest.  She rose as well and started coffee in the tiny pot provided in the room and flipped on the TV with the sound muted.


As she waited she realized they were discussing the case and turned the sound on.  The sheriff was talking at what looked like a small press conference.


“ - extremely fortunate to find his journal.  It outlines the names and addresses of his next five victims.  He was apparently distracted from his plan by the arrival of the FBI team that came at our request.  The journal changes then to concentrate on them.  The agent in charge became the target.  Apparently the perpetrator was familiar with the man and very pleased to be pitted against him.  And for the record, no victims were killed after the team arrived, and no one else was taken.”


Scully turned to see Mulder standing in the doorway wearing only his jeans, the towel forgotten in his hand.


“He didn’t take those five children, Mulder.  When he realized you were coming, he didn’t take the next five.”


His eyes met hers, hungry to believe that.


“You saved them.  The others were already gone.  You couldn’t help victims you didn’t know about.” 


He looked better, the rest he’d gotten had obviously helped, giving him a better perspective.  After a moment he nodded.


“Why?” he asked quietly.


She knew he wasn’t talking about the case now.  “I need you.”


“Need me?”


She nodded.  “You’re my partner, my friend, my . . . my Mulder.  You grow more important to me every day.”


He blinked at that and a ghost of smile appeared on her face.  “Im-important?”


“You’ve made me a whole person.”  His mouth had fallen open now.  She moved closer to him.  “Don’t leave me, Mulder.”


“I, I wasn’t going to jump.  I’m too good a swimmer,” his voice was heavy with irony. 


Her chuckle turned into a sob and in surprise he drew her to him.  She came readily, her arms going around his waist.  Someday they'd have to explore this revelation.  For now it was enough, they were where they belonged. 

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Mulder, Scully, the Lone Gunman and Skinner all belong to Chris Carter, 10-13 and Fox. No infringement intended.