George Hale (3/17)
by invisiblefriends

Feedback: bettyteddyandray@gmail.com
Rating: PG-13
Summary: After IWTB, life goes on.


Chapter 3

*"When bringing a new pet into the family, you must introduce
him to all the smells, sights, sounds and people he will
encounter. For the shy dog, a good size crate might help him
feel more secure."*- You and Your Rescue Dog

"Mulder..."Scully calls from the living room.

"What," he yells back.

"Do we still have that cage the people before us left in the
shed?"

"No."

Mulder is in his office, torturing himself in front of the
computer. He needs a case that sounds plausible, a chapter that
won't have an editor shaking his head, thinking, Are you f'ing
kidding me? He glances down at the list of options he wrote on
a napkin and thinks there may be a chance with number twelve;
it's what he would have called a Classic X-Files. Paranormal,
unexplainable apparitions; 3 dead bodies before the case even
landed on Mulder's desk.

Scully returns to her book, 'You and Your Rescue Dog'. She
can ignore the chapter about How to Meet New People because
it's a non-issue. *New People* hasn't exactly been a constant in
their lives. She reminds herself that she needs to return to
civilization or she will never see *New People* again. She
dreads the thought of being the only people in this animal's life.
The only other *New People* that could possibly enter the
chapter is her mother and she is, according to Skinner, settled
on a cruise ship for the next foreseeable future. Scully thinks of
this with guilt of unknown proportions, even to herself. With
the exception of an overnight visit in San Diego a year ago,
Scully and her mother have not been in touch. Her mother has
made overtures but Scully has found reason after reason not 
to accept. Guilt continues to head the list of those reasons.

She picks another chapter at random and stumbles upon, *Your
Child and Your Rescue Dog* and moves along again. This is
another non-issue that stings. Then, she finds the chapter she
needs the most: *Where Your Rescue Dog Sleeps During its
First Weeks in his New Home.*

In his office, Mulder leans forward and buries his head deep
into his waiting hands. At the mercy of his elbows, he stares
eye to eye with the only sentence he could think of to start this
bloody book that he never should have agreed to in the first
place. Her voice drifts into the office again and he immediately
sits up straight. All he needs is to have her find him slumped
over his laptop like a depressed man who spends way too much
time in this tiny room, wondering how it all came to this.

"I'll pick one up after work tomorrow," Scully says.

Mulder sighs and stands up, sending the chair rolling behind
him. With an Alt-Tab, he wanders back to the living room.

"Why?"

"So he'll have a safe place."

"Look around, Scully. We're in the middle of nowhere. You
can't get much safer than that."

"The book says that a frightened dog can feel secure in a crate.
Your idea of safe is not his idea. You haven't lived god knows
what kind of nomadic life without a place to call -" She stops
dead at the gift of irony she has just given him.

Mulder folds his arms "Thank you," he says, only half smugly.

"Well, that's something you both have in common, then. And
now you've got what he wants - a place to call home."

"God, Scully, what's gotten into you. You sound like an
Afterschool Special." He means this to be sarcastic, but by the
time it comes out of his mouth, it is hostile.

"Mulder..."

"I need to finish the article I'm working on before I go to bed."

"The solar system one?"

"Yes," he lies. "Can we talk about this later?"

The faux calm is over. She slams down her book. "What
*'this'* will we talk about later?"

"You doing something like getting a dog without discussing it
with the other person who shares this house with you."

"And if I'd brought it up?"

He raises his hands. "I probably would have agreed with you.
That's not the point. I don't like anyone telling me what I need
and what I don't, and if I'm fine or not fine."

"Someone has to, Mulder, because if I don't - I can't stand to
watch you live out of that damn room again..."

"It's an office. It's where people work."

"In your case - hide."

He raises his arms into the air. "Fine. I give up. What am I
hiding from, Scully? What horrible, invisible monster am I
hiding from?"

"Me, for one. Your life now, for another."

"Which is what?"

"That ... all that you woke up for, worked for, strove to find,
that it's been replaced by ... this. This house this lifestyle, this..."

"Nothingness?" He is on a dangerous roll. "Is that how you see
my life now, Scully? Nothing?"

"Stop putting words into my mouth."

"Not so easy to take, is it? I don't like your assuming what's
best for me without asking me."

"I have been asking you. You don't talk to me. I go to work;
you go to your office. I come home, we have dinner, you ask
me about my day, my work, what new doctor is seeing what
new nurse. The moment I try and get to talk about you, you're
back in your office, or you've changed the subject." Scully has
to catch her breath. She hasn't realized how overdue this
discussion is. "I'm tired of this, Mulder. This isn't how we are
supposed to be anymore. We're not in DC, in separate
apartments, or on the run sharing one car, driving through state
after state anymore. Right now, this is for real and if something
doesn't change..." She stops cold and can't believe the
beginning of an ultimatum has just dribbled out of her mouth.

"What? If something doesn't change - what? You'll leave
again? This time for good?"

Scully can only stare at him long and hard. That's a low blow,
even for Mulder. "Don't exaggerate what that was about." But
inside she is thinking, 'Don't tempt me."

"I've told you I'm fine," he says slowly, "but you won't let it go.
If I am or if I am not, I will deal with it."

"Oh, like you did last time? You scared me, Mulder, you scared
both of us. I'm not doing that again. "

Last time. Those barely mentioned, never acknowledged days
when Mulder lost his footing and began to slip so quickly and
deeply through the ground. She wanted him to see someone; he
swore her to silence. She prescribed medication for him; he
refused to take it. She tried to be the support system until she
realized she couldn't be partner, confidant and doctor all at the
same time because she was going to fail miserably; they both
would. He wouldn't let her tell anyone, even Skinner and she
had to lie when he asked about Mulder. Skinner suspected
something was wrong but he wasn't told until after by Scully
who needed to talk about this so badly.

"You don't think I know what you're doing but I do know,
Mulder. You keep up a good front, you keep the house tidy and
clean, you keep everything in order and you leave nothing to
chance that might draw attention to yourself. Do you know
what I do every day when I come home? I get out of my car, go
over to your truck and put my hand on the hood, hoping to feel
heat; see a tire track - anything to tell me that you've been off
this property."

*'The year on the run - so full of heightened paranoia;
travelling in car after car was manageable because it was
necessary. Now, just the act of standing still is calling up every
anxiety I managed to bury alive in order to survive. I disappear
into my office to get away from what I fear can devour me
without my ever knowing.'*

But this doesn't come out of his mouth. He has closed off that
filter very carefully. He peers over at the kitchen. The dog is
huddled between the stove and the fridge, finding some kind of
comfort on the crappy wooden floor. Well, if he felt safe, then
so be it. Personally, Mulder felt safest under the bed, curled up
in the fetal position, so who was he to judge.

Mulder grabs his coat. "This dog isn't the answer, Scully. He
doesn't want to be here anymore than I want him here."

He stops at the door but he doesn't turn around. With a finger
absently picking at the paint on the hinge, he says, "You think I
like being like this? Writing crap for those magazines, crap that
people will buy and that I don't have the slightest bit of pride
in. I wish there was something for me to believe in Scully, but
there's nothing."

He has said too much and he is ashamed. Mulder leaves this
house before she can respond to the first honest thing he has
said to her in a very long time.


An hour later, he has resumed his crouch in front of his
computer and tries not to listen as Scully gives George Hale a
tour of the house. He can hear the sound of uncut nails follow
at a safe distance as she leads him into each room. Mulder feels
like a shit for picking the fight but sometimes, when he is
cornered, he does things like this.

*"The emotional reaction to darkness has metaphorical
importance in many cultures; at the conclusion of this case, it
was agreed on by Agent Scully and myself that the variables
around the..."*

He stops typing and listens as Scully keeps up an easy patter of
words, in an easy voice, talking, to George Hale as if he is a
very nervous foreign exchange student. There is simple
kindness in her tone and Mulder remembers this is one of the
things he loves best about her. She knows how to deal with
frightened, nomadic beings. Some are dogs, others can be
major assholes when they wanted to; it makes no difference to
her - she doesn't give up on any of them.

*"The outcome of the case would depend on the variables that
surrounded the murders. If they were extraterrestrial, where
was the evidence; who needed to be convinced and if they
could..."

More crap. Mulder stares at the keyboard for a second and
wants to scream. He wants to pound the letters with his fist,
over and over again, maybe damaging some beyond repair. But
instead, he begins to pound away with his fingers.

*"After Agent Scully and I subdued the alien mutants with our
bare hands, we took control of the spaceship and the internet.
We hijacked the FBI database and sent a memo announcing the
new appointment of Fox William Mulder as director of the FBI,
and those employees with concerns will be reassigned to the
newly created Shredded Documents Reconstruction
department, focusing on the reattachment of Human Resources
Efficiency reports. Those affected will soon rue the day they
took aim at Spooky Mulder...shitshitshit - I told her I don't
believe in anything anymore. I wish I could believe in
something, but I don't; not in the possibility of an honest
government or joining fights that need to be fought because
evil and corruption go on; I can't tell her that I am not strong
enough to take them on anymore. I am tired of being
responsible for saving the world. Now, everybody is healthy
and safe and now I am free. No more sisters to save, only to
remember. No more strangers stupid enough to depend on me
to rescue them." F.W.M V1-2*

This unexpected outburst of thoughts takes him by surprise. He
feels better. Not by much, but it will do.

Mulder turns off the computer, tosses his glasses aside and
roams back into the living room. Scully is at the table, still
pouring through the dog book.

"I'm going to bed," he announces in what he hopes is an
apologetic voice.

"Fine." Scully doesn't look up from the page she is reading
about canine fecal matter. She won't give him satisfaction of
thinking he is more interesting than dog shit. "I'm sleeping out
here."

It is hard to tell if she is doing this out of payback or concern
for the dog. Concern mostly, Mulder decides. Payback is just
icing on the cake.