Chapter Text
U.S. Route 70, Otero County, New Mexico
May 23, 2002
They’re on the run.
As far as Mulder and Scully know, the FBI believes they were disposed of in the bombing of the pueblo; reduced to dust and ash. Invisible as individual grains of sand scattered across the desert.
They’ve been driving nonstop for the past few days.
Mulder stops the car to stretch his legs and urinate discretely into some brush. He returns to the vehicle to see that Scully has their map spread open on the hood of the car, her brow furrowed as she squints down at the continental United States. Her hair is longer these days, pouring over her shoulders like molten copper. Even after all they’ve been through, the sight of her still makes his heart stutter.
He walks around to the front of the car, stooping down a little to wrap his arms around her waist. He presses a slow kiss into her cheek. “How’s the map looking?” he asks, nuzzling her ear.
“It depends on where we’re headed,” she replies.
He looks down at her, awash in the early evening sun, red hair blazing. Freckles are blooming on her nose and cheekbones, and he makes a mental note to kiss each one later when they’re in bed for the night. “California,” he decides. “I want to see you in the Pacific.”
“It’s been a long, long time,” she says softly, glancing up and behind her to meet his eyes. “I want to taste the ocean again.”
“Then it’s decided,” he declares, giving her a squeeze before letting go and walking around to the driver’s side of the car. He gives the left front tire a kick. “Pressure’s low in this one,” he notes. “Remind me to add some air at the next gas station.”
She hums in reply. “I’ll add that to our supply list,” she says, folding the map again and climbing back into the SUV. “You’re almost out of sunflower seeds.”
They continue west.
“We’re not far from White Sands,” Mulder muses. “Missiles. Cover-ups. Secrets. Our old bread and butter.”
“Mm,” Scully hums in reply. “Can’t say I’ll miss them.”
A dark chasm forms in Mulder’s stomach. “I’m sorry,” he says softly. “For bringing you into all this. I’m sorry every damn day, thinking about what you’ve lost.”
“Mulder, don’t negate my choices,” she replies steadily. “We’ve both lost things along the way. And I’m here with you now by my own choice.”
“Scully,” he says softly.
“I mean it,” she says earnestly. “But… promise me one thing,” she says, watching the ruddy landscape fade in the setting sun.
“Anything,”
“Promise me you will never leave me again. I can’t lose you a third time. I won’t.” He glances at her, sees her eyes starting to water. “I buried you, I watched you leave again, I let go of our child-“
“Dana,” he implores in barely above a whisper.
“-And I know why it all had to happen. I understand. But never fucking again.” Tears are streaming down her face now, and Mulder’s heart bleeds beneath his worn t-shirt. He reaches a hand out to her, and she clasps it in both of hers, pressing kisses to his dirty fingers. “I don’t care how far you plan to go; I’m coming with you. ‘Entreat me not to leave you, or to turn back from following after you; For wherever you go, I will go; and wherever you lodge, I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God, my God.’ That’s from the book of Ruth, and it’s how I feel about you. There is divinity in love, Mulder,” she whispers. “And I see it in you. So don’t you dare leave me.”
Mulder feels his hands tremble. “I- I have guilt, Scully. It follows me. It’s been there since the day Samantha was taken and I haven’t been able to shake it yet.”
“I know,” Scully says softly, clutching his hand to her chest. “And I can’t fix you. But I’ll be here,” she promises. “I’ll always be here.”
“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers.
“Yes you do,” Scully declares softy. “You do. I say so.”
They drive until night bleeds across the sky, stars poking through the blanket of darkness. Mulder pulls over on the side of the highway.
“Trade with me? We have another hour and my eyes are getting all blurry,” he yawns.
They both exit the car, paths crossing at the front of the vehicle. Scully reaches out and pulls Mulder into a hug, and he suddenly feels raw and in danger of letting himself dissolve into tears, melting into the sandy asphalt beneath their feet.
“Mulder,” Scully soothes, seemingly sensing the tension in him. She draws back slightly. “Look at me.”
Her face is cast in shadows, illuminated on the edges by the car’s running lights. “We’re going forward,” she says simply.
Mulder takes a deep breath and nods. He leans down and presses a kiss to her upturned face. It’s an act of worship, genuflection at the only altar he’ll ever kneel before.
“I swear to you,” he whispers across her lips. “I swear.”