Shared Devotion. by 1to7fan DATE: March 2009 CLASSIFICATION: MSR, Sk/S... appreciation? IWTB. RATING: PG-13 SPIOLERS: IWTB, S8. DISCLAIMER: Chris, Frank: I've got only honourable intentions for your characters, promise! SUMMARY: Missing scene. Mulder and Skinner have an honest chat about Scully. FEEDBACK: Yes please! xf1to7fan@yahoo.co.uk ***************************** "Shared Devotion" by 1to7fan ***************************** Skinner pushed the door to the hospital room and found Mulder sitting up in bed, staring out the window. He looked troubled, pained, although the expression didn't appear to be connected to his visible injuries. As he looked up he seemed to force a smile. "Hey Walter." "Hi. How you feeling?" Mulder shrugged. "Like a million bucks." Skinner eyed him dubiously, then shook his head and sat down. He had come with a purpose and was considering where to start. It would be easy, he told himself, just like old times. Scolding Mulder wasn't anything new. "What on earth made you go out there like that, Mulder. Straight into the dragon's den, no weapon, no backup." "I knew they had the girl, there wasn't any time, she would have been dead by the time-" "It was suicide!" He had to check himself, pause and think how he was going to put it. When he carried on his voice was contained. "I would understand if it was Scully who was in danger, but a complete stranger, Mulder? And in those circumstances? Have you no sense of self preservation?" Mulder looked down with a sad smile. "I guess not." "Well, let me tell you that while you disregard your own life with such frivolity, there are those who suffer." Mulder didn't look up, but his expression visibly darkened another notch. "I'm- not so sure," he said. "You're kidding, right? Do you have any idea what Scully went through last night?" This got him to look up. "She doesn't deserve this, Mulder." Skinner seemed to hesitate. "I just don't understand why the hell you keep putting yourself at risk, knowing what's at stake... knowing you'd be leaving behind this- incredible woman..." he was struggling to find the right words. "She's- much too precious- to be at the mercy of your fanciful relationship with death." He said finally. His expression was accusatory, territorial, full of a reverence which Mulder had seen a few times in the past and which spelled *DANA SCULLY* in bright, bold letters. Anger started to well up in Mulder's chest. Who did Skinner think he was, talking about Scully as if he was in love with her, as if his feelings for her were anything more than a vulgar infatuation when compared to his own! Even though certain things had been acknowledged in the past, they had never spoken so openly about this issue, and Mulder had a sudden need to make his claim loud and clear. He spoke through his teeth, barely containing the urge to yell at him. "Don't you try and lecture me on the subject of Scully- adoration, Walter. I *live* for that woman. She's the only thing that matters to me in this God forsaken world." "What about 'The Truth', Mulder. Your precious Truth to which everything else comes se-" "You have *no* idea! -how little that matters now." He looked into Skinner's eyes, trying to convey the significance of what he was saying without telling him any specifics, of how the world was due to come to an end in a few years time, how he was helpless and lost in the knowledge and Scully was his only source of comfort, the only reason to keep hope. In the brief silence that ensued, Skinner could see the sadness in his eyes, the anger and confrontation leaving his features, to be replaced by resignation. "She's my reason for living, Walter," Mulder said quietly, almost ashamed. "Kinda messes with my sense of self preservation when she threatens to leave me on account of my bringing 'darkness' into her life." He was looking down at his hands now. God help him, he wanted so badly to cry, but he had managed to maintain composure in front of Scully, and he wasn't about to lose it in front of Skinner, who he could sense was looking at him in disbelief. "She what?" Mulder carried on staring at his hands, and when he spoke he hardly recognised the small, broken voice that came out. "She said she wasn't coming home if I- if I carried on obsessing about the case." More silence. "And you believed her." Skinner said flatly. Mulder looked up in surprise. "What makes you say that?" Skinner regarded him for a moment, then closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose before explaining. "Years ago, I had the -misfortune- of being there when you were missing, of witnessing Scully's reaction to the loss of you. She was disoriented and frantic when we were looking, so unlike herself, unlike the strong, dignified, immutable Scully I knew that it unnerved me. To see what I took to be the epitome of stoicism crumble before my eyes... it just-" he shook his head. "And then we found you dead, Mulder. She buried you and I swear to you, she was gone, there was nothing there. If she hadn't been pregnant-" Mulder's eyes, already sombre from hearing Skinners words, darkened yet another shade. "-if it wasn't because she was carrying your child, there is no doubt in my mind she would not have lived through those 3 months." Mulder's heart had sunk to an all time low; he didn't see why Skinner should be torturing him like this. "And that's supposed to prove she doesn't think she'd be better off without me now?" He said, dejected. "You didn't see her, Mulder. You wouldn't be saying that if you had. Scully is no more capable of pushing you away than she is of- of stopping her own heart." He was a little embarrassed at his sentimental choice of words, but it was an accurate description, and Mulder deserved to know the truth. "What I witnessed... if I've ever been sure of anything... is that Dana Scully loves you more than life itself." Skinner's honesty made Mulder uncomfortable, no less because imbued in his assessment of Scully's feelings was the resignation of a man who recognises that his own feelings would never be reciprocated. However, far from reassuring him, Mulder felt his insecurities rekindle in the presence of such persistent competition. Not that Skinner was actively competing for Scully's affection, but he recognised a sincere quality in the fact that Skinner's admiration for her had not waned in all these years. It made his most treacherous, self deprecating side wonder for the millionth time in his life if Scully would not indeed be better off away from him, with someone who could give her stability, who was not tainted by darkness. "What you witnessed- happened a long time ago," he said. "What I witnessed, Mulder, happened again last night!" It was Skinner's anger welling up now. "Are you completely blind? Scully was besides herself, she could feel you were in trouble, she called me within a couple of hours of not being able to reach you and the instant I heard her voice I sensed that same abandoned fear, that end-of-the-world urgency that told me we must find you well or else I'd be shovelling dirt on top of you both this time!" He was breathing hard, visibly undergoing an internal battle to decide whether or not to say the next thing. "You know Mulder," he hesitated, then his voice was dark, "I didn't think you were capable of this kind of thing nowadays. I told Scully I was sure you wouldn't do anything crazy, I thought you had come to appreciate what it did to her." He pinned Mulder with a deathly glare. "Or maybe you do appreciate it and you just don't give a damn?" Silence. "Tell me something, when she said she was leaving, did you really go off in a suicidal huff due to an irrepressible sense of self pity, or did it simply prick your overinflated ego?" Mulder's eyes were wide with indignation. "Was putting yourself in danger like that nothing more than an egotistical attempt to punish her for daring to push you away?" The harshness of Skinner's words was piercing him like a thousand daggers. Surely he wasn't capable! Yet doubt and self recrimination were never far below the surface with Mulder. What if Skinner was right? What if deep down the true reason for his actions had something to do with what he was saying? It would certainly make him one sorry, undeserving son of a bitch after all. He thought back to the previous afternoon, to Scully's attempt to retract herself. After questioning Father Joe she had tried to tell him that she understood and accepted what he was doing, but he had been too angry to listen, her brief spell of intolerance (or was it simply insecurity, panic even?) having stung him deeply. He felt guilty as a thief now, and wanted to stop Skinner's berating, but he himself was speechless. "...Because if it was, Mulder, I can tell you it worked. You know what she said to me last night? She told me if anything happened to you she would never forgive herself. She thinks she's responsible for your actions, I hope you're happy!" Mulder's eyes were red rimmed and moist. His face was very still, convinced that any effort to rearrange his features would result in them crumpling like a baby's and he would end up weeping for mercy on Skinner's shoulder. When he finally found it, his voice was minute. "What do you want from me?" He asked, wanting him desperately to stop torturing him. Skinner's tone changed again, became somewhat more benign. "I told you when I first came in, Scully deserves better. I just wanted to remind you... that you are the one lucky bastard who can hope to give her what she needs. Don't let her down." Silence. "I know." Mulder let out a long breath and rubbed his face. "You're right, Walter." He shook his head. "I should have known it wasn't about me, I've had my head up my arse for a change." He looked into the other man's eyes, starting to think straight for the first time in days. "I think something's frightened her. Something about this case has- shaken her- like few things do..." Realisation was downing on him little by little. The boy. She had been vulnerable, had been locked in yet another battle with death for months, trying to save yet another angelic face from its clutches, another William. And just when it seemed that all was lost, this case had come along, and then suddenly there was hope. A coincidence? Or was there something he didn't know, some way in which the case had affected Scully, enough to send her reaching for extreme possibilities, and yet provoke that instinctive need to retreat at all cost, the same one that had compelled her, if only briefly, to withdraw even from him. He had begun to suspect some of this; ever since Scully mentioned the boy he had sensed the intensity of her emotions. But as soon as she had uttered those words, the stuff of his worst nightmares, all was obscured in his mind. A mantra had settled like a veil, preventing any further reasoning: 'she won't be coming home, she won't be coming home', and then *he* was the one who had panicked and gone off to run amok. "...shit." He started scrambling out of bed, pushing the covers and looking around for his gown. "What are you doing?" "I need to see her." He stood up and immediately felt lightheaded and weak. Skinner grabbed his shoulders and guided him back onto the bed. "Easy, Mulder. She wouldn't be happy to see you out of bed. Besides, she's with one of her patients right now, I'm sure she'll come by when she's done." Mulder closed his eyes and, with a sigh, collected himself. "Thank you, Walter." "Just lie down, Mulder." "No, I mean it. Thank you for your honesty... and for caring about her like that. Thank you for saving my life." The two men looked at each other, a respect which could only be born of a shared devotion passed between them. Skinner nodded, his purpose fulfilled. ********** The end. **********