***DISCLAIMER***: All "X-Files" elements and references
in this story belong to Fox Broadcasting, Chris Carter,
and 1013 Productions, and I am making no money from it.

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On Your Back
by shannono
shannono@iname.com


Vignette, Angst, Mulder/Scully Romance

Rated PG

Spoilers through "The X-Files: Fight the Future"

Summary: On his way to Antarctica, Mulder passes the time by
writing a letter to Scully.

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On Your Back
by shannono


Dear Scully,

I'm writing this because I'm stuck 30,000 feet or so above the
Pacific Ocean, somewhere between LA and Sydney, and the flight
attendants finally got sick of me pacing the aisle and sent out
orders for everyone to strap in, we might hit some turbulence
up ahead.

Yeah, I'm getting the whole class in trouble again. You expected
any less of me?

So now I've got all this nervous energy building up inside me,
and I was starting to feel like I was gonna explode. I figured
I'd better find some outlet for my frustation before I started
yelling and throwing things. Temper tantrums are *so* me.

This damn plane just won't move fast enough.

I told Skinner everything, Scully. Well, almost everything; I
didn't go into detail about *exactly* what we were doing when
you got stung. Didn't want to court trouble quite yet. But I
had to tell him the rest. I didn't really have much choice.
Getting to Sydney in less than 24 hours was a piece of cake,
but making it to Antarctica and then several hundred miles
inland -- well, even the guys couldn't help me there.

So Skinner got on the phone to an old Marine buddy and got some
strings pulled. No personnel -- not enough proof to warrant
that -- but I'll get some kind of vehicle and a few supplies.
That's all I could hope for, I guess. I just hope I can drive
whatever they give me.

I swear, Scully, when you jerked away from me in that hallway,
I was sure I'd blown everything. You finally broke through my
hard-ass walls and make me realize what I need to tell you, what
I should have said a long time ago. And I actually followed
through.

Believe me, I was as surprised as you. That was both the hardest
and the easiest 45 seconds of my life. It all came down to that,
Scully. You thought I didn't need you.

But I did. I do. I always will.

And whatever else happens, I'm so glad I got the chance to tell
you.

I thought I'd ruined it, though, when I tried to kiss you. I'd
wanted it for so long, but while you weren't pulling away from
me, you didn't exactly look thrilled about the idea, either.
Shock, I guess. I hope.

I know the feeling.

And then, just as our lips touched, you did jerk away, and my
heart dropped to somewhere around my toenails. I was sure, so
sure, that I'd screwed up well and good this time.

Imagine my relief when you shook off my apology. No, you said,
just that one word, and I felt as if the weight of the world had
been lifted off my shoulders.

For all of about a second and a half.

Because your next words sent a bolt of fear through me as soon
as they sank in. Something stung you? There was a bee still in
your clothes?

All I could think was, oh my God.

I never had a chance to react. It all happened so fast. You
were such the doctor, Scully, telling me what was happening to
you even as you gradually collapsed to the floor, with me trying
desperately to support you. You were falling, but I was the one
falling apart.

God, do you know how much it hurt me to leave you there long
enough to call 911?

Everything's a blur after that. I guess it's a result of the
head wound. Oh, yeah, you don't know about that. The ambulance
that came to get you? It was a fake. They took you away, and
the driver decided to get me out of the way at the same time.

I don't know if it was the glass, if he was a bad shot, or
they weren't really trying to kill me, but I was damn lucky no
matter what. Taking a bullet to the head at point-blank range
does not usually make for a quick recovery.

Don't worry, Scully; it wasn't bad. I've got a pretty nasty cut
on my forehead, and a hell of a headache, but I stocked up on
meds before I left and I'm taking them just like I'm supposed
to. Can't have me passing out from the pain halfway across
Antarctica, now, can we?

Damn, I just read back over what I've written so far and I can
barely follow my own train of thought. I don't know if it's the
head injury or just my racing brain getting ahead of me, but I
hope you can make sense of this.

Oh, yeah, like you'll ever read it. Who am I trying to kid? Even
if I managed to hang on to it through whatever I'm going to face
in the next couple of days, I probably wouldn't have the balls
to give it to you. And it would just upset you, anyway. I'd
rather you know as little as possible about what I'm going
through right now. It can't be as bad as whatever's happening
to you.

And I don't know if I want to know what you're going through
right now, either.

God. This had damn well better work out, or I'd better die in
the effort. I wasn't kidding when I said I didn't know if I
could do this alone. But now I know for sure. I can't. I won't.

It doesn't mean anything without you.

I never realize how much I need you with me until I don't have
you here. I'm so used to having you on my back that I don't even
think about it unless you're not there. I can't imagine having
another partner, Scully. I'd never be able to trust anyone else
the way I trust you.

So I've got to get you back. There's no room for error this
time, no second chances. This is it, once and for all.

I'll make you a deal, Scully. You hold on until I get there,
I'll get you out, and we'll help each other make it back home.
You watch my back, I'll watch yours, just like always.

I'm on your back again, Scully. I've always been there. I hope
you believe that.

I can't wait to see you again. Please be okay. For me.

Love,

Mulder

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