Title: Home
Author: annaK
Rating: R for language
Classification: V,A,MSR
Spoilers: This is set during the three months mentioned at the
beginning of DeadAlive. Spoilers for Requiem, Within, Per Manum, 
TINH and DeadAlive. 
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. 
Archive: I'd be honored! Just let me know so I can come visit. 
Summary: Sometimes memories of what we've lost can be painful. 
Sometimes they provide comfort.
Authors Notes: The timeline in this story is largely my own. 
CC had Scully being pregnant for 10 months, I don't! 
The timing of Requiem (which CC suggests was June) is based on 
a line in TINH where Mulder is said to have been taken in 
the fall.

Special thanks to xdks. I couldn't do it without you, hon!

**


Home 
By annaK


**
April 3 2001




Unlocking the apartment was the easy bit, she thought as the key 
entered the lock. The brass grated as the bolt turned, metal 
burning against metal after months of disuse. Burning like the 
tears in her eyes.

A cloud of dust billowed out as she swung the door open onto the 
dank and empty apartment, choking her, the sounds permeating the 
air. 

She was home.


**
June 2000




"Couldn't sleep either, huh?" 

"No. It's lonely in Georgetown."

If he was surprised by her honesty, he didn't show it.

"C'mere" he whispered, seemingly not wanting to break the quiet 
fragility of the moment.

She walked over to the couch, kicking off her shoes by the coffee 
table and curling up next to him, her head on his chest, their 
fingers entwined. She wasn't alone.


**
April 3 2001




She moved towards the living room, her eyes adjusting to the 
dimness of the space. She wasn't ready to open the blinds. Not 
yet.

Dust clung to leather like she had to him, the black sofa turned 
gray. One neatly manicured hand brushed away the evidence of the 
months passed, sending the tiny particles into the air where they 
hung before falling down in a whirl of tiny snowflakes. He'd 
always loved the snow.


**  
March 2000




"I am not going outside in this weather." She was looking at him 
like he was a somewhat endearing, yet ultimately irritating little 
boy.

"But it's snowing!" he said with his best puppy dog look.

"Exactly!"

They were standing by the back door. It led out onto a beautiful 
yard, a multitude of greens and browns poking up through the icy 
layer that had covered them overnight. When Mulder had said that a 
childhood friend wanted them to look after his house whilst he was 
away, she'd expected ghosts moving furniture around, or a mutant 
that lived in the basement; she had not expected a two story 
detached with a white picket fence.

He'd seemed so young at that moment, trying to persuade her to go 
and build a 'snow alien' with him. His happiness was contagious, 
but before she had the chance to agree she was off her feet, 
hanging upside down over his shoulder.

"Mulder!" She screamed, slapping him on the ass. Her half hearted 
protests were met with his victorious chuckle and the sting of the 
freezing air on her bare feet. 

Soon she was laughing too. Soon she was upright, legs clinging 
around his waist, arms clinging around his neck, snowflakes clinging 
to their hair.

They'd never got around to building the snow creature.


**
April 3 2001




Still staring into space, Scully absentmindedly wiped at a single 
teardrop that was trailing its way down her cheek, whilst the other 
hand cradled her stomach.  

The child moved within her, pushing against her womb with several 
intense kicks. She wondered if it would be a runner, like its dad.

He never knew.


**
February 2000




"Never give up on a miracle."

She held onto him, his solid warmth thawing out her empty spaces.

When they moved apart, he went through to the kitchen and made them 
tea. She curled into a fetal position on the couch, arms tightly 
hugging herself, holding herself together. 

The hot liquid burned her throat, the pain a welcome imposter in the 
numbness that surrounded her. She wanted to feel, wanted to be alive 
again. 

They sat in silence for minutes or hours, she didn't know. The 
rhythmic ticking of the clock and Mulder's steady heartbeat the only 
sounds. The apartment was like a vacuum, her breath sucked from her 
in salty mouthfuls of worn out cries. She was hollow inside.

He said he should go. She asked him to stay. Asked him with body and 
soul, her lips desperately seeking his in a fevered kiss. She wanted 
to feel alive again.

"No. I'm taking advantage of you." He said through panting breaths.

"You're not. I want you."

She was telling the truth. She wanted to be with him. To feel him 
all around her, inside her. For him to take away the ache.

He wanted her. She could feel the evidence pressed against her 
stomach, but he kept shaking his head, kept pushing her away. 

"I don't do pity fucks." Despite the harsh words, his tone was 
imploring, begging her to want to be with him because it was *him*, 
not just as a way to forget.

She soothed his fears with gentle kisses. His forehead, his eyelids, 
the corner of his mouth. 

"Look at me." 

He did.

"I need you, Mulder. Tonight and always. Please don't walk away."

Her voice was a whisper, her eyes glassy as the tears once again 
began to fall. He kissed them away.

That night, she was not alone.


**
April 3 2001




She found herself in his bedroom. The room was lighter than the rest 
of the apartment, the blinds still pulled back from the day he had 
left. She hadn't had the heart to touch them.

She would have to start in here. Boxes were still piled around the 
bed, silent spectators to the life that had once burned within these 
walls. They would have to be moved. 

The room was not as dusty as the others. Time seemed frozen, 
waiting for him to come home. 

She could still make out the imprint that she had left on the duvet 
the day after he had been taken. She wondered if the pillow still 
smelt of him. 


**
September 2000




"Let me go with you."

"No. It's not safe. I told you. I can't risk anything happening to 
you." 

His fingers followed the contours of her face, then down her neck 
and along her ribs. He traced each outline with such reverence, such 
love.

They were whispering. They always whispered in the early morning, 
that time between sleep and wakefulness where everything seemed 
quiet, fragile. 

She moved closer to him, fingers threading through his hair, lips 
grazing his.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

He kissed her again, more firmly, rolling her over and settling on 
top of her, his arms braced on either side of her face. The early 
morning light spilled in through the windows, painting his features 
in a mirage of shadows. He was beautiful.

After they made love, Scully sat on the bed, a sheet draped around 
her body like a toga. She was uneasy, fiddling with the covers 
with agitated hands.

After he had showered and dressed, he sat next to her, their 
fingers entwining. 

"Once this is over, we'll start again. I promise."

Nodding mutely she fought back the tears that were collecting 
behind her eyes. When he kissed her, she let them fall. 

Then he left her, sitting on their bed with a watery smile and a 
silent prayer.


**  
April 3 2001




Lifting a small box of papers from the floor, she began to go 
through it. She had so much to do.

Her mother had offered to help with the move, despite her 
disapproval. Maggie couldn't comprehend her daughter's wish to live 
in her dead lover's apartment, let alone the wisdom of raising a 
child there. She didn't understand.

Needing more light to see what she was doing, Scully walked back 
into the living room. Switching on the lamp, she placed the box on 
the coffee table. The artificial light bathed the room in an amber 
glow, filling the cold, desolate emptiness with ethereal warmth. 

The multitude of memories had once amplified his absence; now they 
allowed her to feel his presence. He was all around her, watching 
and waiting, protecting her and their child. 

They would be safe here, cocooned in an eternal embrace. 

They were home. 



**
End



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