Subject: It's Been 1 Date: Thu, 10 Sep 1998 16:47:02 -0500 (CDT) From: Laura Bontrager To: soconnor@mindspring.com Subject: It's Been. . . (1/1) Date: Tue, 11 Aug 1998 16:49:26 +0000 From: Lyle Bontrager To: lbontger@wmcstations.com Title: It's Been. . . (1/1) Author: RocketMan >lbontger@wmcstations.com< Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to CC, 1013, and Fox. One Week belongs to Barenaked Ladies and no fringe is intended for either. Content: One bad word. Sorry. MSR SPOILER::::movie--not movie fic!!! Dedicated to DarkStryder, cause she's just awesome. And soon to be a freshmen. ~~~~~ It's Been . . . ~~~~~ "It's been one week since you looked at me Dropped your head to the side and said "I'm angry" --'One Week', Barenaked Ladies ~~~~~ Part One: One Week ~~~~~ He watched her shake her head in annoyance, the way her eyes seemed to be chewing him out even as he bled on the floor. "Mulder, if you die, I'm going to kill you," she whispered tightly, one hand pressed to his shoulder and the other to his stomach with the force of panic. He gurgled, his eyes glazed and barely seeing the outline of her face above him. "Kind . . . kinda . . . too late," he said shortly, mesmerized by the way her hair puffed out as he breathed hard. "No, no. You're going to be okay. The ambulance is coming and soon, I'll be able to chew you out for not letting me back you up." "Couldn't let you. . . too dangerous." "No shit." He grunted with her words, a smile in his eyes as he shook his head slightly. "Must be . . . rubbing off . . . cursing. . ." "No, Mulder. You just bring out the best in me," she muttered, her hair falling into her eyes, but her hands too occupied to move it away. He could feel the panic and pain fading from him and he realized he was really going to die right here. He was really going to die for his cause. The dirty floor was cold against his back and it seeped into his bones, making him quake all over. The warehouse had high ceilings that let the moonlight trickle in. The way it spilled over them made him think that Scully was his angel, sent to show him the way to heaven. Corny. Yes. But she was highlighted like that and her hair billowed out with his breath, and her eyes were crying because she could tell too, and he felt afraid because she was crying. "Don't. . . don't let me die, Scully. . ." He grasped hard at her, bloodying her FBI jacket and causing a faint flicker of horror to flash across her face. "You're not dying, Mulder. You will not die on me. You're going to live because I need you to. Understand?" He nodded weakly, licked his lips with a dry tongue, then heard his own whimper as the pain suddenly raged back into him. He closed his eyes, wincing, grabbing at her as the spasms rolled through him. The bullets had flown around him, he remembered this, remembered how relieved he felt as he went down that she had not been there. And then, as he lay bleeding on the floor, she'd come in, gotten shot herself, crashed down next to him, and he'd panicked then. The team behind her took out the shooter, but there they were, lying in their blood. Her arm was tattered at the muscle, but she kept saying she was fine. He knew she was more worried about the bullet that had grazed his stomach than the one lodged in his shoulder, but he worried more about the blood trickling from her arm. It made him want to live, just for her. She was not supposed to come, she was supposed to have done it differently. But she had come, and she had found him, and so now, he would live for her. For everything she gave up to come after him. "Sorry. . . bout vacation," he murmured, his eyes opening just as she was about to panic. "Just know you owe me a Florida beach, partner. Got it?" "As soon as I can. . . take you there. . ." Her lips pressed into a hopeful smile. "Exactly, exactly." He nodded, felt the cold of the concrete reaching in again. "I'll just. . . rest. . ." "No. NO. Mulder, open your eyes, okay? Look, look at me." He couldn't. He wanted to. He couldn't. Not even for her. ~~~~~ ~~~~~ Part Two: Five Days ~~~~~ "Five days since you laughed at me, saying 'Get back together, come back and see me.'" --One Week, B.L. ~~~~~ There were words he knew he should pay attention to, for no reason other than the voice was important. The voice. It was shaky, like crying, just not quite. He wanted to open his eyes for her. Her? The voice. Yes, the voice was her. The woman who was his angel. He wanted to open his eyes for her. The room. Yes, a room with white things that blurred sharply then fuzzed into focus. And the voice of the woman hitched and he blinked, then coughed, finding no air for him, not enough breath to make it to his lungs. "Mulder, Mulder. Take a deep breath. It's just the tube. . ." He sucked in and found the air there, found it stale and dry, but still, delicious. He still couldn't see her. She was over there. He turned his head, grunted as something like needles pierced his skull, smiled then as the voice came into his vision. "You're awake." He wanted to laugh, to tell her, no duh, he was awake. He couldn't find the words. So he nodded. She smiled and brushed the hair off his forehead with a shaking hand. "You scared me." "Sorry," he mouthed. She frowned. "Can you talk?" He shook his head, tried to clear his throat again, but found it numb, paralyzed. He grunted, coughed again, then tried to form the words. Panic raced across his face. She grabbed his hand. "It's okay, Mulder. Temporary. It's from the tube they had to put down your throat to help you breathe. It paralyzes the vocal cords because of the shock." He nodded, but kept clearing his throat, as if he expected it to come back then, right then. He wanted to thank her, to tell her she saved his life. "Don't look at me like that," she muttered. He smiled, brought her hand to his lips and kissed it softly, mouthing his thanks as best he could. She shook her head. "You owe me, Mulder. . . ." A shaky sigh whispered from her mouth. "I thought you were going to die. You closed your eyes and got so still . . . don't ever do that to me again. I'm coming with you next time you get some stupid tip, got it? I don't care if I *am* about to go on vacation. You come get me." "Yes, Mom," He whispered, delighted with hearing the scratched, barely understandable words from his mouth. She seemed to feel the same delight. The fear, the panic, eased from her eyes and he felt better. "Why do you do this to me, Mulder?" The words hit him like a ton of ice, cold frozen, like a bullet to the gut. Hadn't she said those words before? Hadn't it been almost the same then? A feeling of despair welling in him, a horrible grasp of his own doom, and then she had come in, said she was leaving, leaving for good. And then those words that condemned him. He had wanted to cry out, to grab her in his arms and shake her for confirming his worst fears. He did this to her. He did this to her. What else could he have done, but run after her? Run after her, try to seduce her into staying with him. That's what it had been, seduction at its finest. He would have kissed her. He would have laid her down in the floor and taken her right there, and not once regretted it. But instead he had laid her on the floor and called for an ambulance that took her instead, and far away from him, and he regretted it all. "Sorry," he croaked, wishing it could be different. She brushed tears from her eyes, refusing to let herself cry now that he was getting better. "You came after me, Mulder. I'm always gonna come after you, so you might as well just take me with you." He knew what she meant; he had come after her in the ice, found her despite everything. He had found her only because he wanted her, wanted her back. She was his, about to be his, and they'd taken her from him. And also, because she was the best woman he had ever known, and the best friend he had never before had. "Your arm?" he said, raising his own to motion to the object of his focus, causing dizzying waves of naseua to roll through him. She noticed and firmly pushed his arm back down, then moved in closer to him so he wouldn't have to shift around so much. "It's fine. Flesh wound is all. Stunned me because I wasn't expecting it. I'm okay." He nodded. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have been there." She shook her head, grabbed his hand hard. "No, no. I *should* have been there. I should have been there when you were there, Mulder. You're my partner, I'm supposed to back you up." "Not for that. Not for that." "Yes, for that. Yes. Crap, Mulder. Stop doing this to me. Stop trying to protect me from everything. I'm not innocent anymore; I know what's going on." "That's my fault. . ." She let out a frustrated laugh of scorn. "*That* again. Mulder, when you figure out that I'm going to always be here for you, always going to be backing you up, then you come find me. Got it? Right now, I don't need you doubting me. I've got enough of that from everyone else." She rose, made a graceful turn, and walked away from him. She walked away from him. He watched her in stunned silence. ~~~~~ ~~~~~ Part Three: Three Days ~~~~~ "Three days since the living room I realized it's all my fault but couldn't tell you. . ." --One Week, B.L. ~~~~~ Mulder watchd the television fuzz at him with a general air of uncaring. Everything around him didn't seem to care. He was aching, at home by himself, the pain meds clutched in his hand, and the glass of water way over by the sink. He couldn't stand, because that hurt too much, and he couldn't get the water to make it stop hurting. He chucked the medicine at the television and felt like beating something. He had forgotten how wonderful Scully was at being there for him. She would have gotten his water, she would have made sure he was okay. Maybe even cook him dinner if he asked nicely. It was all his fault she was gone. But he couldn't tell her that because she would think it was more of "that." *That* being what, he had only a faint inkling of. Something along the lines of him taking responsibility for his actions, is how he saw it. She seemed to want to think he could do no wrong. Which he didn't exactly mind, it's just that it got her hurt so many times. Mulder paused. Wondered idly for a moment if maybe she had wanted what they had almost had, wanted it and encouraged it and maybe she wanted him back but only if he stopped being so . . . guilty. He snatched up the phone, punched in her number and waited, not letting himself think yet, because right now it was so clear, so perfect, that if he started to think, he'd talk himself out of it. "Scully." "It's me. Can you come over?" She paused. He could tell by her breath that she wanted to. She wanted to come back. "Depends, Mulder. Can I?" "Yes. Yes. You can. Please?" She let out a slow breath, trying to control her impulse to rush over and make sure he was okay still. "I'm on my way." He hung up without saying anything and pulled himself up, groaning as he remembered the bandages across his stomach. Bending over, he made his way to the medicine he had thrown, snatching it up before he could look at it too much. His floor wasn't even close to clean. Then he shuffled over to his glass of water and choked down both pills. He wanted to be clear when he talked to her, wanted no pain to get in the way and make the decision for him. He straightened a bit, felt his stomach rip, and hunkered over again, content with the hunchback look for the moment. He eased his way into his room and grabbed some fairly clean clothes off the floor, then slowly, slowly, attempted to put on his clothes. As he lifted his arm to pull his sleeve out, he felt the hot lash of pain lance through him like a thousand bullets. "OH . . . Man . . ." he moaned, wishing he could find the words to curse it. Quickly, he yanked off his shirt, then fell back on the bed as it completely took him over. He panted there, eyes squeezed tightly shut, breath finding no pattern as his heart thudded too fast, too crazy. Oh . . . it hurt. . . That's where she found him when she came in, passed out on the bed, with one hand clutching his clean shirt, and the other making a fist in his mouth. She sighed and sat down on his bed next to him, touched his face softly. "Mulder?" His eyes flickered open and he groaned. "Sorry. I was trying to get dressed for you," he muttered, and tried to lift himself up. His stomach muscles screamed at the effort and he gasped. She lifted him effortlessly and then took his shirt from his hands. "This was what you wore home from the hospital," she said, indicating his jeans and the shirt in the floor. He grinned sheepishly. "Yeah. I couldn't get the energy to change. Obviously, I still can't." She shifted around until she faced him, then carefully guided his head through the hole, then eased his arms into the sleeves. His face worked into a grimace, but he said nothing, only sighed loudly when she was done. "I missed you," he said, taking her hand. She pulled it away from him. "Me? Or my cleaning up after you?" "You. Without a doubt." She smiled, then pushed him down on the bed, pulling his legs up. He frowned, then his eye raised as she pulled his pajama pants off, the kind with elastic so that it wouldn't irritate his stomach wound. She rolled her eyes at his look, then searched around his room for another pair of pajama pants. Grabbing a flannel plaid from the floor, sniffed it, deemed it worthy, then pulled them on his legs, then up around his waist, carefully navigating his bandages. He grabbed her hand, pulled her to him with the small amount of energy he had left. "Thank you, Scully.For this, for coming after me. For giving me the slap in the face I needed." She watched his eyes, noted how distant they seemed. He didn't say he was sorry, but it was better than nothing. She fingered his chin with a soft hand, then kissed his forehead."You owe me, Mulder. Florida." He let a smile ghost his face. "I own you? What?" She smirked, then pulled him up. "Owe me, smarty. Owe me." "Own? I keep hearing own. Maybe we should get my hearing checked, cause I could swear you said you're mine." He stood with her, smiling, letting the teasing fall back between them, reassert its place with them. She chuckled, pulling him out to the living room. "Maybe I never said it," she whispered, close to his ear, letting him fall back with relief into the couch. "Maybe you didn't." "Maybe I never said it, but you always knew?" "Maybe I always knew. . ." Surprised, he glanced up at her, at the shy sort of look she was giving him, at the nervous fingers smoothing her pants. He grabbed those fingers and kissed them softly, an excited thrill coursing through him. "Maybe you always knew . . " she said. He yanked on her hands and she dropped to the couch beside him, her insecurity gone, the strength and determination back. This he knew, this he saw in her every day. Just not for him. She leaned forward, glanced her lips across his. He couldn't let it stop at that. "I've figured it out, Scully. I don't doubt you." She nodded as his lips came back to hers, but moved away to look at him. "Never doubt this, either." And she leaned in again and let him taste her. ~~~~~ ~~~~~ Part Four: Yesterday ~~~~~ "Yesterday, you'd forgiven me But it'll still be two days till I say I'm sorry." --One Week, B.L. ~~~~~ He cursed the pain medication when he woke up. Sure it had kept away the nasty feeling of being ripped apart at the seams when he had leaned in and kissed her, but it had aslo made him fall asleep right when it was starting to get good. He opened his eyes and saw her watching him. He gave her a grimace of a smile. "Forgive me?" She frowned and tilted her head. "For what?" "Falling asleep." She laughed and shook her head. "No problem. I could tell by your eyes that you were about to go. Pain medicine?" He nodded, then grimaced as he moved to get up. She gently pushed him back down, and then he realized his head was cradled in her lap. "Stay here," she said. "Good advice doctor." "That's what they pay me for." "Naw, I bet they pay you cause you're pretty." She smiled again and he liked the little thrill he got from knowing he could say something like that and actually have her accpet it, and know he meant it. "Rest, idiot. I want you to be in top shape when we go to Florida." "Florida?" She raised her eyebrows. "You owe me. You promised." "Oh. Yeah I did. I was delirious, Scully. Surely you can't hold it to me. I thought I was dying. I would have said anything to see you smile before I died." She poked his arm and shook her head. "I'm not letting you off the hook, mister. You're paying. You're coming. You're also going to explain to my mother and Charlie why I couldn't come with them." He groaned. "Is Charlie anything like Bill? Cause if he is, you can forget me explaining anything." "Is Charlie uptight and overprotective? Hell no. He's my baby brother." "Ah. So are you uptight and protective of him? Being the older sister?" "Of course not." He nodded with a laugh. "Of course. I should have known." They fell into silence and he fiddled with the edge of her shirt with a finger, slipping his hand to her stomach for a brief moment, enjoying the silky heat. She twitched and grabbed his hand. "Rest." "I'm resting!" he protested, grinning. He sighed suddenly and she wondered what ws wrong with him. Surely he wasn't back to doubting. "You're right. I owe you." "Own me? Is that what you said." "Ha ha. Yes. That's beside the point. So Florida it is." She grinned and the smile made him give her a lazy one back. "See, that was what I was looking for. Now I can die." She shook her head and brushed his hair from his face. "Not until we're old and grey and 193. Got it?" "Sheesh. 193? That's old." "You can do it." "You going to have to help me." She smiled as he let his eyes drift shut again, evidence to the medicine still surging through his blood. "Since I own you . . . you're going to have to marry me." he whispered, his eyes sliding shut. She tensed as he seemed to drift off, but then his eyes opened in panic. "Right?" he said, grabbing her shirt just as he when he was bullet ridden on the cold concrete. "Right." she whispered. "I wasn't sure if you were being delusional again." "No delusions. Maybe delusions of grandeur. This you can hold me to." She tightened her arms around him. "I'll do just that." He seemed to be falling asleep again and she softly smiled, stroking the hair on his face. His eyes popped open. "Mulder! Rest." He smiled. "I got it. I'll just tell your mom and brother that you're going to marry me. Your mom shouldn't be too upset about you missing the vacation then, right?" She laughed. "I guess not." As he drifted off again, to the motions of her hand on his forehead, he realized he had still not told her he was sorry. He'd wait a while. Maybe in a couple of days. ~~~~~ end adios you like? RM