Slow Motion by Susan Email: touchstone98@tx.rr.com Classification: vignette Spoiler: pre-season 10 Archive: No archive without permission. Disclaimer: Though these characters don't belong to me, I will continue to be fascinated by them no matter how many years go by. Notes: This is my take on Mulder's state of mind before season ten started airing. Based on what I observed, not only was he fighting depression, but he and Scully had stopped living together at some point, which I have to admit really bothered me. These little snippets are just me rooting around in Mulder's head to see what I could find.;) Summary: The one person who understood him more than anyone else in the world was gone. ~~~~ "I need to go, Mulder," she said, tears in her eyes. "*Need* or want, Scully?" he replied, letting out an exasperated sigh as he brushed his hand over his hair. "I don't know. I just know that this isn't working for us right now, and I need to figure out why," she whispered, picking up her luggage, then looking into his eyes one last time before opening the door and heading to her car. And then she was gone. ~~~~ He sat on the couch for the next two hours. Not moving. Not thinking. Not feeling. The one person who understood him more than anyone else in the world was gone. And he was numb. ~~~~ He knew he was in trouble, knew the signs of depression, but he tried to push it even deeper inside so that she couldn't see it. But she did, and he knew that she did. It was why she left and why he was now sitting outside on the front porch at 2:00 in the morning mindlessly staring at the stars. ~~~~ He needed help. He knew it three months ago, but he'd pushed it aside just as he had all the other times, trying to immerse himself in other things so that he wouldn't have to think about it. And he started running again. He'd get up at 5:00 in the morning, drive into town to the nearest high school, and run on their track. He only ran two laps that first time and had such bad cramping, he thought he was going to pass out. But then each new time he went, he ran a little further...four laps around the track, then six, then eight and so on, until he got up to twenty laps. When he was done, he'd go back home, get into the shower, and pretend that nothing was wrong. Sometimes, if she still hadn't left for work, she'd get into the shower with him, silently wrapping her arms around him and pressing her cheek against his back. Other times, she'd wait to make sure he got home okay, then slip outside and head off to work once he closed the bathroom door. And it was those times that he'd stay in the shower until the water turned icy cold, only turning it off when he just couldn't take it anymore. ~~~~ She'd tried to talk to him about her patients, to engage him in conversations about other people's lives, and though he'd occasionally toss in an opinion or an idea about what she was doing, he only did it because he knew it was what she wanted to hear. It took too much effort to do anything else. ~~~~ For years, they'd gone to sleep at night the same way, her back pressed into his chest, his arm around her, his breath warm against her neck as he threaded his fingers with hers. But then she'd moved over to one side of the bed, each night turning away from him while he stared at the ceiling, desperately wanting to touch her, but afraid she'd move even further away if he did. One week later, he finally decided it was time to get some help. ~~~~ She was a spitfire, his therapist. Barely five feet tall and not afraid to get in his face and make him confront the brutal truths he'd been trying to bury, she slowly helped him dig to the bottom of the hole, then start the long climb back out of it. And he started taking medicine. He hated taking that damn pill, but he did it. For a month, he took it every morning with breakfast and drove into the city three times a week to sit on a couch and pour out his problems. And he started to heal. ~~~~ He wanted to see her. No, he wanted to look into those beautiful blue eyes of hers and tell her to move back in with him, but he knew she'd say no, and though he was getting better, being rejected by her was something he wasn't ready to handle. And so he called her instead. "Hey Scully, it's me." "Mulder." "Can you meet me somewhere?" he nervously asked, not quite sure where that somewhere would be yet. "Are you okay?" "I'm getting there." "That's good, Mulder, really good," she said softly, trying to tamp down the hitch in her voice. "How about the park across from the hospital?" he suggested. "I could meet you during your lunch break and bring you something to eat." "11:30, and a sandwich and some iced tea would be nice," she answered without hesitation. "Great, I'll see you then...and Scully?" "Yeah?" "Thank you." She hung up then without saying goodbye, and so did he, but it didn't really matter. All that mattered was that in two hours and ten minutes, he'd get to see her again. ~~~~ A month later he still sits on the front porch at night, looking up at the stars. Sometimes it's in the middle of the night, sometimes it's earlier, but now things are different. *He's* different. His life is moving forward, and she's a part of it again, slowly moving with him. "It's getting cold," he remarked, bringing an old blanket outside and gently draping it over her legs first, then pulling the rest up over his own legs. "I'm okay," she replied, tugging the blanket up higher. "It's too nice out here tonight to stay inside." "It is." She looked up at the moon then, he looked at the stars, each of them caught up in their own thoughts. "You know, I've been coming out here every night since...since you left," he said quietly, finally breaking the silence between them. "It's helped." She moved closer, rested her head on his shoulder. "I'm glad you're getting better, Mulder." "I'm trying, Scully." "I know," she replied, reaching over and sliding her hand into his underneath the blanket. Turning to kiss her temple, he squeezed her fingers, then looked up at the stars again and whispered, "I'm trying." ~end~ Thanks so much for reading. possibilities http://possibilities98.wordpress.com/ Originally posted March 2016.