[ note / the beginning part of this roleplay wasn't able to be put down quickly enough and sadly we lost it. However, this begins at probably around only 20 replies in, so it's not too far ahead.
blurb / Mulder is drinking at the bar and Rodrick walks in, sitting down next to him. The two begin to converse and Mulder eventually leaves, walking home in the dead of night. Several men (Colin's gang to attack Mulder for putting him in a wheelchair) drag him into a nearby alley and begin to beat him to death. Rodrick luckily leaves the bar and drives by in his van, seeing what's going on. He gets out, deciding to help, and hits the men with a trash can to save Mulder. The sun begins to rise as the gang men scramble off, and this is where our story begins. ]
"Sure." Mulder shook his head and looked up at the rising sun, mentally slamming his head against the wall. Shit. Work. Scully was going to kill him if he was late or didn't come. Or maybe Skinner would. He couldn't go drunk, even though he didn't really feel like he was. And he definitely couldn't go in this state -- Scully would notice, probably send him off on medical leave. "Maybe you should go then," he told Rodrick. "I can get back home, I think. You've done enough for me." Mulder gritted his teeth as he attempted to stand to his legs, using the wall to keep himself up. 'Come on, Mulder. You've taken pain. Honestly, how much stupid shit have you done? Jumping on moving trains? Being in confined spaces with bombs? Going into a small tunnel underground to kill a monster? So just let this guy go. You can take care of yourself, no matter how out of it you might feel. That's what you'd say if Scully was here.' But Rodrick wasn't Scully, and the FBI Agent honestly wasn't sure whether he'd let Mulder return to his apartment alone or not. Oh well.
"Right, I'm sure he was real fit. And those women must've been all over him, based on how you've explained him to me." Mulder chuckled. He'd never been able to joke with someone else in shit situations.
"Ugh." Mulder's legs fell beneath him and he slid back down the wall, closing his eyes. He listened to Rodrick's apology. "Oh, it's fine. I understand. I do that shit all the time to get away from people. Well, not at bars, but with fellow agents I do." He snickered to himself when he remembered something from a while ago. He and Scully had been stuck with the two most annoying agents of all time and Mulder used a case to get out of it. And actually grew interested in the case. Looks like he couldn't ever escape the X-files. "Me taking mine?" he questioned. "No. I wouldn't do that." No. He wouldn't. He'd go on to seek the truth. He'd go on for Scully and Skinner. Mulder laughed this time. "Stupid shit's my middle name. Usually I can escape from the terrible situations I put myself into -- or Scully helps me, but it's usually me -- and I don't usually need someone to depend on. FBI work and all."
"Mm. Sure." The drummer snickered as he decided to get up and stand. "Okay, yeah I can go. See ya later dude." Man, why did he think that Mulder could actually stand up? Rodrick got to his feet easily and was going to walk away, that is before he decided that turning and looking at the FBI agent was a good idea. It wasn't, because once he saw the dude struggling to keep himself up, and that he was clearly in pain, the male groaned because he couldn't just walk away. But then again what was safer for intoxicated and wounded male? Rodrick could try and drive slow, and take him just back to his place until Mulder wanted to leave. Taking a moment to curse under his breath he stalked back over there.
It surprised him that Mulder was still joking, and the drummer rolled his eyes as a small smile tugged at his lips. "Oh I never lie about hot people! I should've asked for his phone number but he didn't seem as interested!" Rodrick said with a long and dramatic sigh, before quickly rubbing at his black covered eyes. Another thing he had to do was wash all this eyeliner off.
"Fuck dude, you can't even walk." Rodrick felt an anger growing inside him at the Collin dude and his minions. Now thanks to them, he had to help this guy go home and probably baby him. Rodrick sighed and frowned, "Ya know what? I can't do it. I will fill guilty if I walk away knowing I left ya here. You're coming with me babe." With an annoyed huff, the dark haired male walked over to stand in front of the male against the wall. "So, do you want me to carry you or drag you to my van? I think carrying would be easier, but I can do whatever."
When Mulder laughed and accepted his apology Rodrick just shyly smiled and shrugged. Rubbing the back of his heated neck. "Meh. Well unlike you, stuoif shit used to be my middle name. It isn't anymore." He paused before letting out a soft chuckle. "Also I would love to point out that you actually needed me to save your ass. Never saw me saving you coming."
Mulder nodded slowly. "I know. But, I can try--" The brown-haired man again stood to his legs, pain shooting up his body. "Babe?" Mulder snickered. "And.. I just need to get back home. After that I'll be fine." 'I'll already have someone else looking after me.' "I can, er, limp there. How far is it?" He hoped not too far. But he didn't want to be carried, he'd rather go with Rodrick on his own. He couldn't be //that// helpless.
"I know, I know, I really didn't think I'd see you again. I owe you." Mulder took a shaky step forward, ignoring the throbbing that traveled through his whole body. He could walk. He was fine. He wasn't going to die and he was going to make it home.
"You are just gonna //limp// home? Really? Im not trying to make you feel more stupid, but guess what? You are acting stupid." Rodrick rolled his eyes and crossed his arms to glare daggers at Mulder. He didn't make a comment when the FBI agent repeated the word 'babe', he didn't feel like he needed to. The drummer tapped his foot impatiently as his dark eyes watched the male take a step forward. 'I can't believe I gotta take care of him. I never asked for a pet for Christmas! Damn you Santa.'
Mulder seemed dead set on not needing his help. And everytime the handsome male said he was 'fine' and 'I don't need you to help' made the unnatural dark haired male want to just grab his wrist and drag him to the van. Thankfully Rodrick held back once he glanced at the gun. Not knowing Mulder to well, he didn't know if he would try and shoot him if he grabbed him like that.
"Just accept that you need my help okay? I really need to head back and go lay down, and i know if I leave you, you could either A, get jumped again. Or B, pass out before you make it home. Just let me do this and be on my way." The band member grumbled as he walked over to stand next to the wounded Mulder. "Just lean on me and I can get you into the passengers seat." It was like something was out to get him. Someone who he enjoyed talking to, and actually didn't have sex with, seemed like they were leaving for a while.
"I can limp just fine," Mulder huffed. But Rodrick was right. He was being stupid and he was aware he wouldn't make it home. A sigh left Mulder's lips and he furrowed his brows, thinking. God, what was wrong with him? He wouldn't //accept// help, would he? He could do this, he always had been able to. So why couldn't he now? He thought for a while longer, but could easily sense Rodrick's annoyance. He had to choose. "Fine," Mulder mumbled, shame washing through him. "I guess you're right." This is why he didn't take help. He didn't like the feeling of having to be taken care of, wasting other people's time for his worthless life. He was an adult, an FBI Agent, so he should be able to do this. But he just couldn't. This time, he had to accept it.
Mulder lightly leaned on Rodrick and looked back up at the sun. Another day. Another day he was alive and living. That was either a good thing or a bad thing.
Rodrick felt himself sigh out with joy that Mulder was clearly done putting up a fight. "Im Rodrick Heffley! I am always right~" He let the FBI agent lean on him and he strongly wanted to freak him out, by whispering something into Murder's ear, or anything. But seeing how defeated he looked, the sadistic adult kept away from his urges. Deciding that the faster the dude was away from him the better. "So, you just wanna go home? Have any shopping to do? Maybe drop something off at your agency." The tan adult joked as he wrapped an arm around Mulder to keep him close and steady. Rodrick would be lying if he said he didn't want to see the FBI agency. It sounded cool, and something he could so utterly fuck up.
It was the weirdest thing to do, walking with Mulder like that, and honestly he almost tripped over their feet like two times, but they made it to his van. It was in nasty shape, the black spray painted words were now faded. Looking like a disgusting grey color, but Rodrick smirked in pride that you could till read the words. "Löded Diper..." The proud man muttered to himself as he placed Mulder in his left arm as he fiddled into his skinny jean pockets for his car keys. Fishing them out with a chuckle of victory, the wild male opened the passenger door and put his hands on Mulder's hips to guide his ass into the seat. "There! Not so hard, right?" The male purred as he slammed the door before the agent could say anything. Strutting over to the other side of the dirty white van, he grabbed the handle and pulled it wide open, eagerly climbing in and slamming it behind it. The door made a squeaking sound when it did so, Rodrick noted that it was probably something about the van. 'Damn, I need to fix this piece of shit later.'
He hummed something, like a tune for a heavy metal song, while he out the key where it belonged and turned it. As the van roared to life.
"Mm. Sure." Mulder leaned a little more of his weight, trying to control his feet and not trip Rodrick as they made their way toward his van. "I need to go to the bank, maybe hit the road to Los Vegas. You know, the usual stuff I do." Mulder's legs began to hurt as he winced, but they finally seemed to make it to Rodrick's van. The FBI Agent examined the outside, cocking a brow at Rodrick's words. "Loaded Diaper? Who came up with that name? Also, really?" Mulder questioned as Rodrick guided him into the seat by his hips. He rolled his hazel eyes and leaned back into the chair, exhaling. Finally, he was going back home.
Mulder watched Rodrick get in, listening to the sounds the car made. "Maybe you should get that fixed," he advised. "Sounds pretty bad."
"I did myself~ Back when I was like, sixteen, its what my band name is called. Löded Diper!" Rodrick flashed Mulder a cocky smirk before looking back at the wheel and driving away from the curb. His feet felt weird, not being pressed right against the gas and breaks, but Rodrick kept remembering had wounded in the van so he kept slow. "Hitting up Los Vegas? I would offer to go with you, but I've already been there and done that." Jerking the wheel to the right as his wheels went onto the sidewalk curb, but luckily the van didn't tip over. And hopefully that didn't hurt Mulder too much, and to double check Rodrick glanced over before turning back to the road quickly.
"Really what? That I safely guided you to the passengers seat? Next time ill remember not to do that." He replied idly as he watched as he came onto a busy street. "And something you still haven't told me, where is your house? Or apartment?" The drummer stuck out his tongue as he watched the lights with narrowed, dark brown eyes. Seeing his smudged eyeliner in the review mirror Rodrick groaned, opening the glove boxes and grabbing a box of baby wipes he had in there since forever. A smile tugged at his lips as he remembered why he had it in the first place, Manny and Greg had made a mess and the icecream had got all over him. Ever since then he carried around baby wipes just encase of anything. And it helped with getting eyeliner off too.
The light turned green and Rodrick hissed as he quickly grabbed a baby wipe and shoved the box back into the glove department. Realizing he was leaning all over Mulder, he quickly returned to his seat and hit the gas. "Sorry, I had to grab that real quick. So if you smell like my manly musk, hopefully no hard feelings." The dark haired male joked with a chuckle as he had the wheel in one hand, and was furiously wiping his eyes with a baby wipe in the other. He didn't make a comment on what the FBI agent said about his vehicle, because he knew his car needed fixing.
"Nice name." Or not. Mulder looked around the streets, watching cars begin to appear as the sun shone over the city. "Yeah, Los Vegas is a pretty cool place. Especially when you're hunting monsters." He chuckled to himself as he shifted with the van's movements, but didn't mind really. "And thank you. You're turning me gayer and gayer by the second," he snickered.
Mulder thought for a few seconds. "2630 Hegal Place," the FBI Agent responded to Rodrick's question. "Alexandria. Not the best neighborhood, but hey, it's home. And it's an apartment. I don't do houses." The brown-haired man watched as Rodrick used baby wipes to fix his smudged eyeliner, turning back toward the street. "None at all," Mulder noted. "In fact, it totally turns me on." He rolled his eyes and snorted. Was he really flirting? Yes. It was fun. He wasn't gay of course, but Rodrick had different reactions than Scully did, so sometimes it was pretty funny.
Rodrick smiled softly and laughed. "Suuure. I know you wanna laugh at it. Despite our shitty and misspelled name, we actually have okay music. My bandmates are horrible people however, but if you overlook the band and name, and just listen to the music, its pretty okay for HEAVY METAL!" The driver let out a shout as he said those last two amazing words. Life was shit sure, and what he wouldn't give to actually find the courage to head back home and just hear his family and see them again. And just know that they were there, waiting for him, and nothing had changed while he was gone. Though it was so far from the truth, Rodrick knew that, but sometimes playing the drums made his anger go away, so he loved Heavy Metal and being apart of it. "Monsters? What are you hunting? A wendigo?" Rodrick couldn't hold back a shit eating grin when Mulder said the next thing. "Oh well I guess my job is almost complete! But you aren't gay until I kiss you! When will I do that I wonder? Who knows, it will be when you least expect it. Then, you will finally be gay my friend!"
He nodded at the address he was given, that neighborhood wasn't something he knew well, so Rodrick didn't say anything about if it was shitty or not. "Cool, I don't do that either. But that's because I travel to gigs. So I can't really get, or really afford, anything other then a cheap hotel." There was another redlight so he stopped and let go of the wheel. Growling raised out of his throat as he used both hands to scrub away the now useless eyeliner that was all over his face. Taking a short break, Rodrick looked at Mulder and quickly asked, "Is it all gone?"
At the flirt, he raised a brow and smirked. "Im glad you are turned on and all, really, its an honor." Rodrick placed a hand on his chest in mock surprise and flattery. "But lets not do it in my van okay? Especially at this stoplight. I mean, you could give me a blow, but I don't think the stoplight will stay long enough for it~" The drummer flirted.
"Maybe I should listen to it sometime. I don't love heavy metal, but I'm sure your music is good." Mulder pondered for a few seconds, tipping his head to the side. "Hmmmmmm. Wendigos are mostly associated with Native American culture, and last time I went anywhere close to //that// we only found a werewolf. And then the other time was when I nearly got blown up, but that's besides the point. I don't think I've encountered a Wendigo, but still got cases stacked up on my desk." Mulder shrugged and laid back, snorting. "Let's hope you don't, I'll kick your ass."
"And a nice van," Mulder added on. He looked over at Rodrick when he asked him a question, inspecting his face. "Yeah, I think it's off. Don't see anything, but let's hope my vision is still 20/20." His vision wasn't that good, but only used glasses for reading.
"Actually, I think I'm gonna try and get in some type of World Records Book. You know, 'longest time span of not having sex.' Think I can do it?"
"Ah, thanks. I would show you like a disc or something now, but I kinda wanna get you home quickly ya know?" Rodrick shyly chuckled, a little surprised that an FBI agent would ever want to listen to his band's music. It was a good feeling that Mulder thought his music would be good, most people didn't want to listen to it after they saw what the band acted like. Fighting with eachother, in fact, Rodrick still had a ugly bruise on his hip from the previous one. His eyes widened slightly at what the person next to him explained out, and when he was driving around the neighborhood that Mulder told him to go in, he casted a glance his way. A curious one. "Huh, weird. I mean, werewolves are cool I guess, but I've seen some wendigo picture and damn, do they look terrifying." The drummer didn't disbelieve what Mulder said at all, he totally seems like the type of guy to go out and find monsters and shit. Which was intriguing to the dark adult, he could learn what monsters existed and didn't. "Ha, I dare you to kick my ass. You won't though, because as soon as my lips are on yours you won't even be pissed at me anymore." His eyes narrowed as a chuckle left him at the FBI agent's snorting.
"Thanks. Oh shit yeah, I forgot you just got hurt, sorry. Shouldn't have asked." The band member apologized, remembering that his bar friend might be dizzy after that beating. "Sorry. Hopefully things start to...feel better?"
Suddenly he burst into a fit of laughter at what Fox said. "Dude! Really? Haha! I don't know, maybe ya can. Though...." Rodrick nudged his partner with a suggestive wink. "We can still make out right babe?" He knew it wasn't going to ever happen, since as soon as Mulder was in his house or whatever, Rodrick would leave and never see him again. Maybe this will all be memorable? Rodrick snorted and looked around for the apartment that Mulder lived with.
He wasn't attached. He was absolutely fine with leaving Mulder. All this was just another night for him. Hopefully.
"Yeah, maybe another time." Another time. Would there be another time? He wasn't sure. Rodrick seemed like the type of person that would rather be alone, but Mulder could be wrong. And who knows, they could definitely see each other again, since they already had after the bar. "And yeah, but werewolves can be a pain in the ass. You never know who it is, so it's harder to find who's turning into one." He shrugged at his own answer, but continued to listen. "Wendigos are portrayed as terrifying creatures, but if they are real, they're probably much less terrifying. //Probably//."
"Dare accepted. Think I've fought enough people to know what I'm doing. And right, I'm sure that'll happen." Mulder rolled his eyes and looked around for his apartment. "Yeah, hopefully. Just gotta stay out of work for a while."
"I'm sure I can. I'm probably already in the lead, with my lucky number and all. And who knows, we could some day. But probably not." Yeah, probably not.
He leaned his head forward, again looking around. "There it is." He pointed with his finger to an entrance across the street. His eyes suddenly widened when he saw a car parked in front, however. Oh shit. "Fuck me," Mulder muttered under hit breath. Scully was here. Of course. He couldn't expect her to just stay away. No, she'd probably come to check on him because of his absence from work and found he wasn't here. "Well, if you hear a message on the radio about a missing Fox Mulder, I wouldn't worry about it." He sighed. "My partner's here and is probably freaking out since I'm not home. So that's just great." Of course. Could he never escape people? No. He'd always be forced to be looked after. Scully was his doctor and wouldn't be leaving after she saw him in his current state.
Rodrick almost flinched at the words 'another time'. That probably wouldn't happen, it was just a mistake they had met again anyways, and fuck did he regret giving Mulder a ride. It was the right thing to do, but now he felt a connection to him. Which was horrible and bad and fuck...
Rodrick was utterly screwed. Hopefully Mulder hated his guts so that when he left things would feel better. Fate was an idiotic thing to believe in, so he doubts it was that. "Interesting. I guess so. Never knew they were real until now. Thanks for the info." Every time his companion talked, Rodrick would keep glancing at him and nodding. Showing that he was interested and listening. Fox had said at the bar that not many people believed, so he wanted to be nice. And it was interesting. Rodrick snickered at the Wendigo thing. "Probably isn't a confirmed answer Mulder~"
The drummer tapped his fingers on the wheel to a beat that he had done on his drums earlier as he smirked. "Oh it will babe! And I am a little worried about your health if you fight all the time. Maybe lay it off while ya heal huh?" It was surprising to himself at how concerned he was. But that fight earlier was nasty. They wanted Mulder gone. And Rodrick felt himself grow sick with worry at them actually succeeding. "Yeah, please do. You being dead won't be good for anything. So I suggest you don't piss off people or go our looking for a fight. I might not be there to save your ass again."
Despite his nerves as he pulled up and slammed on the breaks at the house, a genuine smile came onto his face at what Mulder said. "Oh I sure hope we do. It will be something worth our lonely whiles huh? And I promise that we will only makeout. But if I get grabby I apologize before hand~!" He swore as he shook his head and laughed, his messy hair falling in his eyes a bit. "Hopefully they don't kill you. And if I do, I shall look up and down to find your ass!" Dark eyes looked at the FBI agent with a hint of affection in them.
"Mhm. If I ever find out I'll make sure to tell ya. I'm sure I could find you somewhere, with your gigs and all." Mulder's eyes closed for a few moments as he inhaled, feeling worried about going inside with Scully there. He lightly chuckled at Rodrick. "Yeah, I'll try to. But I don't ever really know what kind of trouble I'll get in to." He gripped the handles of the car when the black-haired man slammed on the breaks, tapping his foot. "No, no, I don't think they'd kill me. Well, I actually don't know. Possibly, but unlikely." Mulder looked over at Rodrick, sighing heavily. "Okay, well... you don't have to help me up, if you don't want to. Plus you probably don't want to hear Scully snap at me either." He clicked open the door handle and opened it, casting a grateful glance at Rodrick. "Thanks for everything, you know. I really appreciate it, and I owe it to you."
Mulder took one step out of the car and nearly crumpled to the ground. Ohhh shit. This was bad. He hoped he could at least //walk//, right? He closed the van door behind him and nearly fell just from that force.
"Dunno if ya will. My gigs are everywhere all the time, I have one tomorrow. So ill be leaving then. I don't know where though, my bandmates will tell me later." Rodrick almost hissed out, venom in his words. His bandmates didn't ever tell him shit when they got Löded Diper a gig. It sucked balls, and he knew that he would need to get control over that soon. Or else who knows what they would do? He chuckled with Mulder. "Well for now, try and stay out of it. You are pretty weak right now my dude."
A pang hit his chest when he realized he had slammed the breaks too hard. Fuck, the black-haired male had forgotten it. Completely slipped his mind. "Sorry about that too aha. Whoops." Feeling his neck heat up in embarrassment Rodrick ran a hand through his wild hair. His eyes narrowed and he was silent for a moment, before shrugging his shoulders. "Well when I got there they seemed to want you dead. And if they do that shit for only one guy named Collin? Then he has some power. Something I can't believe you would fuck with."
Rodrick watched with unreadable eyes as Mulder opened the door handle to his van, it making another loud and irritating squeaking sound. Yeah. The drummer knew he had to fix that before he killed someone from how annoying it was. When the brown haired male thanked him, the Heffley snapped out of his trance and looked at Mulder with wide eyes. It took a full minute to resgiture that he had gotten a thanks and he chuckled shyly. "Yeah yeah whatever. Couldn't have let some guy die on me right?" His hand waved at the favor, like he was dismissing it. "Mulder you don't owe me shit okay? I won't even see you after this. So we are all good."
He swore that his heart launched out of his chest when he watched with wide eyes full of fear and surprise when his friend almost fell to the ground. Rodrick watched him close the door and let out an annoyed groan. 'What the fuck is up with my guilt today?'
Rodrick unbuckled himself and slammed open his car door, easily sliding out of his comfortable seat. Pushing his palm against the door he listened to it shut and the tan male stalked over to Mulder and reached out his hands to steady him. "Im starting to feel like im your boyfriend~ I suggest you start to learn to walk soon. Whatever shall you do without me~?" He smirked at the joke, no matter how annoyed he was at him and Mulder. It was like they were suddenly attached to the hip and he couldn't get away. What the fuck was life doing to him?
Wrapping an arm around Mulder's shoulders, he grabbed his side to make the agent to lean against himself. "If ya need help, just ask okay? Like if this position is hurting you or whatever, let me know?" How to deal with this? Rodrick wasn't sure as he started to slowly walk to the door. Checking on Mulder every step of the way.
"Oh." Mulder nodded in understanding, noticing his tone. It didn't seem like he was very fond of his bandmates. "Well, oh well.. maybe we'll see each other around another time. And yeah, I know, I'll try!" Mulder listened to what he had to say, staring forward. Collin. He hated his ass, but I guess there was nothing to really do about him. "I'm kind of forced to see him. Which is a good and a bad thing." He shrugged and looked at the apartment door, bracing himself for whatever Scully was going to say to him.
"Of course I do. I'll make it up to you whether you like it or not." He smiled and closed the door, inhaling the crisp air. After Mulder made it out of the van -- barely -- he thought about Rodrick. He'd probably been one of the nicest people he'd met recently and probably wouldn't see each other ever again. It was a shame, really... but then again it was a good thing. Anyone mixed in with Mulder's life would find a bottomless pit of his problems and worries. And they'd probably get involved in alien shit, or the government would abduct them. Like Scully had been. So, maybe it was good this way... then Mulder could be alone, like he oh-so-badly wanted to. Or did he?
The brown-haired man heard another car door open and shut and turned with raised eyebrows to see Rodrick walking towards him. He opened his mouth to protest but he was already by his side, helping him to the door. "Really, you don't have to help me--" Mulder soon realized saying anything was pointless. Rodrick seemed set on helping him hone. "Don't think I'd be able to do anything without you," he snickered, shaking his head. "Okay. It's fine though." He looked at his apartment door and took a deep breath. He fiddled with the door and found it to be unlocked. It creaked open, light filtering into a dimly-lit apartment. The only glow was that of the fish-tank and the sun filtering into the room. "Okay, just--"
"Mulder?!" The brown-haired man looked up and watched as a petite woman came into view. She was wearing her usual work clothes, her ginger hair even darker because of his apartment. He ducked his head a little when she came over, narrowing her blue eyes as she inspected Rodrick. "Who are you?" she asked, but it was more of a demand. Her arms were crossed and her eyes shifted to Mulder.
"My god, what the hell happened to you? Help him to the couch, will you?" Typical Scully, ordering strangers around. It usually amused Mulder, but right now all he wanted was for her to leave. The FBI Agent cast a sympathetic glance at Rodrick and sighed. "Well, that's Scully. Sorry about all this, by the way. You probably need to get together with your band, practice for your gig... now I really owe you."
Rodrick let out a chuckle and was going to reply, but as soon as they were through a door, some scary ginger haired lady was snapping and ordering him around. "Whoa. I don't mean to be any trouble, just dropping off this dumbass who got hurt." The drummer smirked. Scully huh? This is the girl that Mulder wanted so badly? The agent actually had a good taste in women, something that he never expected from Fox. Guess his mother was right, don't judge a book by its cover. "I am Rodrick Heffley." After the drummer told her that, he just nodded and muttered, "No problem. I've been helping him all night anyways." And started to help Mulder to the couch.
When he finally heard the voice of Mulder, he looked at him and raised his eyebrow with a smug smile. "Its fine. I don't care. My bandmates don't need me as badly as you do right now anyways." The tall and skinny male said, with a slightly playful tone. But not even Rodrick knew if he was serious or not. Once he got to the couch, the drummer looked at Scully before gently pushing Mulder onto the couch. "Woop. There you go." Rodrick chuckled and offered Fox a salute. Suddenly he felt a little weird, Mulder was now in Scully's care, he could leave. It gave him a weird feeling but he shook his head and ran his hand through his hair once more, letting out a sigh as he glanced around.
He should leave now. The Heffley made a note though that he would never, EVER, flirt with the ginger haired girl however. Sure he wanted to, but Mulder seemed to really like her, and the band member respected that. So he wouldn't flirt with Scully, nah. Plus it would feel weird to do it in front of the brown haired male anyways, flashing one last charming smirk to the male on the couch, Rodrick made his way to the door. "It was nice getting wrapped into your night life friend, and uh, nice seeing you Scully. But I suppose I am not needed, so have fun." Without glancing back, Rodrick waved his hand as he reached for the door knob.
"And how the hell did he get hurt?" she asked from the kitchen, getting out the first aid kit and medical supplies.
Mulder nodded slowly. "Well, I hope so. Just cause I don't want to make you late and--" Scully hurried into the living room and he trailed off, the red-haired woman looking the other FBI Agent over, letting out a slightly annoyed sigh. "I've been waiting on you for, what, an hour?" Her eyes sort of softened when she truly recognized his state. "Oh. You got drunk, huh?" Her voice lowered and she looked over at Rodrick. "Got in a fight? You should be in a hospital."
"I'm not going to a hospital," Mulder responded. He hated hospitals so much. It reminded of him of bad things, and he was in there so much anyway. "You need a doctor," Scully added. "I'm looking at one," Mulder responded. Scully rolled her eyes, taking out the supplies as she watched Rodrick walk to the door.
"Hey! I need you, you need to explain to me what happened." Mulder opened his mouth but Scully cut her partner off. "I don't trust him for the truth, so it'd be nice if you could tell me what the fuck went on last night."
Mulder sighed. Looked like there was no escape for Rodrick now, especially not from Scully. When she wanted something, she usually got it. Especially when she was demanding, which she was right now. "I'm offended you wouldn't believe me," Mulder noted. "Isn't that the only think we look for?" Scully didn't reply as she began to work on his face, the man flinching back in pain. Yup, he could take beatings but was pretty much a baby when Scully used antibiotics on him.
Ugh, what now? His hand was right there! He could just open the door and run to his van! No one could stop him. Rodrick didn't have to fucking stay, he didn't WANT to fucking stay. Though it would be impolite to just leave, and Mulder and Scully seemed like they were about to have a big cat fight. The dark haired male sucked an a breath, and forced a smile before turning to look at the two on the couch. "Sure. I don't care."
'I do care. I don't want to be here. When can I fucking leave?' His smile twitched but stayed on his face as he strolled over to Scully and Mulder, standing beside them. "I don't know what happened exactly, I met him outside of the bar and we said hello or whatnot." The drummer waved his hand as he lied slightly. "And then I was driving around and heard some shit from an alley. Got out to see who it was, but there was a bunch of people around him." Rodrick explained to the demanding female, rushing to his favorite part. His once forced smile now a cocky smirk. "So I grabbed a trash can and ran towards the crowd, shoving them away. They ran, and Mulder seemed to have been kicked and punched a lot." A spark of worry casted into his dark eyes, sending a quick glance to the agent. "The guy was out of it for a bit, but snapped out of it. Helped him to my van and drove him here. Dunno who did it. Or why the fuck they would. There was a ton of guys though."
Mulder didn't seem to want to tell her about it, and Rodrick recalled that from their conversation that he had clearly said 'But Scully..' So the band member lied with no hesitation. The wild adult watched them for a moment, and let out a quiet laugh when his friend flinched back. Awe, poor baby. Realizing how comfortable he was getting, Rodrick closed his eyes and opened them again. A now emotionaless look on his face. "So, I did my part. Can I leave?' The drummer felt horrible, he didn't want Mulder to think he was a bother, because he certainly wasn't, but this was getting to attached.