Fox Mulder watched as Collin confidently walked over to a few women with drinks, leaning against the railing as he most likely flirted with them, wrapping his arm around one of the women's waists and tugging her closer. The brown-haired man clenched his fists, feeling anger spin in his chest like a fireball.
Mulder was basically seething. He jumped out of his car and slammed the door shut, stomping over to Collin. He grabbed the blonde man by the collar of his shirt and pulled him back, leading the surprised -- and thrashing -- man to a nearby alley. Mulder hissed and kicked Collin in the leg, watching the smaller man crumple to the ground.
"You fucking bastard," the brown-haired man spat through clenched teeth, his shoe meeting Collin's rib. "I can't believe you!"
Collin just laughed, staggering to his feet as he glared at Mulder. "Can't believe what? That I'm the one who has Dana and not you?" A sneer made its way across the blonde man, which made Mulder only want to reach out and collide his fist with Collin's face. "Come on, I'm not stupid. I can see it in your eyes. You love her." He circled Mulder like he was a piece of prey. "Your anger is understandable. But you should know that you'll never be able to have Dana. Especially not after I fuck her--"
Mulder felt like everything was a blur. He whirled around and punched Collin hard in the jaw, causing the man to cup his face as he fell over. "Don't you ever talk about that. You know nothing about our relationship!"
"You're a pretty good guard dog, Fox," Collin snorted, struggling to stand. The FBI Agent sent his fist into the other man's gut and threw him to the ground, leaning over him and taking all of his anger out with punches and kicks. Collin spat blood out but didn't fight back. Mulder didn't notice; he could hardly comprehend what he was even doing. He was completely out of control of his body.
He finally stopped and drew back, watching Collin lying in a pool of his own blood. Oh, shit. What.. did I do? He looked down at his bruised fists that were covered in crimson-red liquid.
Mulder's head shot up when Collin murmured something. He furrowed his brows and crouched down. "What?" he growled, anger again growing inside of him.
"When... D..ana.. finds me... like this... I'm gonna tell her what you did.." He laughed, then stopped as he coughed on blood. "S..she's going t..to hate you. Be afraid... of you. Good job.. Fox... you fucked up bad."
Mulder's breathing hitched. His heart fell to his stomach as he stumbled to his feet, panic ripping through his whole body, the brown-haired man realizing what he'd done. He nearly fell to the ground as he ran back to his car, shutting the door and peeling off. He made his way back to his apartment, tears beginning to flood down his cheeks. Oh, no. No no no no no. Scully... she'll never forgive me for what I did. She never will. I know it. She'll hate me.. and.. and... FUCK. She... she won't be scared of me, right? We've been through so much. She wouldn't.. she won't.. she..
Mulder began to sob as he parked his car in front of his apartment, entering the building and walking the stairs to get to his room. He unlocked the door and slammed it shut behind him, making his way to his couch and falling on top of it. His mind replayed the scene over and over, trying to understand why he'd done that. If he'd just controlled his anger.. everything would be okay..
I am losing control. And what if Scully sees that? She'll know.. and she'll leave me for him..
Damn it, Mulder. You really fucked it up this time, didn't you?
Pounding on Mulder's door jerked him from sleep. He blinked a few times as he saw the darkness of his apartment. He rolled over and buried his face in the pillow, screwing his eyes shut. Mulder didn't know what time it was. He didn't care. All he wanted to do was lay here and die.
"Mulder! Open the goddamn door!"
Mulder shot up when he recognized the voice. Scully. Shit!
He touched his knuckles and ripped his hand away, feeling pain shoot through them. Oh, shit. Shit shit shit shit shit. I should've left. Why did I stay here? I knew Scully would come eventually. How long have I been asleep? I don't even know what day it is.
Maybe if I don't come to the--
His front door clicked open before he could even finish his sentence. Dammit, Scully has a key! Why did I ever give that to her? I'm so stupid!
Realizing it was pointless to do anything, Mulder fell back on his back, covering his face with his beaten hands. "Damn it Mulder--" Scully's angry voice filled the room. "Are you here?"
Mulder heard footsteps near the living room, feeling a burning sensation in his throat. All he wanted to do was tell her. Tell her what he'd done, why he'd done it, what Colin had said.
But he wasn't going to.
No, he'd take the pain for her. He'd take all of her pain away if he could. And if Mulder needed to do it until he died, then that would be fine.
As long as Scully didn't get hurt because of him.
"Oh my god." Mulder flinched at her voice. He knew she was staring at him. He knew she'd seen his knuckles. He knew that she understood that Collins's words were true.
The brown-haired man didn't say anything. She swiftly moved forward, softly touching his hands. "Mulder." He didn't move. "Mulder, I need to fix your hands."
She pulled him up, but he only slumped back on his couch, resting his hands beside him. He opened his eyes as Scully gave him a look of sympathy. "I don't need your pity," he croaked, voice rough and gravelly.
"How long has it been since you've eaten? Or had a bottle of water? Or taken a shower?"
Mulder only shrugged. He didn't know. He wouldn't answer. He wouldn't talk. No, speaking again would ruin everything.
Scully sighed and walked into the kitchen, Mulder hearing cluttering and watched as she came back with a first aid kit. She reached out his hands and examined them, beginning to work on them. Mulder was silent.
"Look..." she sighed, raising her blue eyes to meet Mulder's brown ones. "Collin... he told me what happened." Her eyes flashed with hurt. "Why would you do that? I know you always get violent when you're angry.. did he do something, Mulder? Say something to you?"
Mulder closed his eyes, his throat burning again. He shook his head, holding back tears. "I did... it... because I was angry." His voice broke and he choked on his words.
"Angry about what? And did you follow Collin?"
"I wanted to make sure h..he was good enough for you," the FBI Agent quickly responded.
"So you tried to beat him to death? Mulder, he's in a wheelchair. His ribs were broken. His face is going to be bruised for a long time. That's not just an 'I was angry' event. You were pissed. And I want you to tell me why."
"It's... it's none of your business," he growled back, inhaling as he forced back his sobs. If she wouldn't leave, then he'd have to act cut-off. Rude. Anything to get her to leave.. she couldn't find out. "So.. you should just leave."
Scully looked surprised at what he'd said, but her eyes immediately narrowed, dark ginger hair falling over her face. "I'm not leaving. Your knuckles need tending to, and you need to be watched over."
"I'm fucking fine! God Scully, do you not get the hint?" He ripped himself out of her grip and forced his eyes away from his partner's hurt and shocked face.
"You're not fine." Mulder could tell she was trying to stay cool and calm, collected like she always was. But her eyes betrayed her voice. He trained as a psychologist for a reason. "So tell me what's going on."
"I'm giving you the fucking chance to apologize for nearly killing Collin and you're acting like such an asshole!" She jumped to her feet, her mask gone. She was showing her true anger. "Can't you take anyone's help? Mulder, you're killing yourself because of what you do; you can't be alone all the time. You can't hold in all your emotions! You have to force yourself to talk to other people. Me, Mulder! I'm here for you! Are you too ignorant to see that?"
The brown-haired man flinched. She was right. He never took anyone's help. He always did things.. solo. How many times had he left her behind? How many times had he yelled at her? They'd gone through so much, and Mulder was always paranoid that maybe, maybe she was still against him. That maybe it was all an act. That had to be the only reason she was still here, right? Anyone else would have left him a long time ago.
But he would still do anything for her.
He'd take any kind of pain for her. Torture. He'd kill for her. He'd die for her, always pick her over himself. Truly, how much had she done for him? She'd done.. everything too.. maybe she wasn't against him. There was a possibility she wasn't.
God Mulder you're so fucking stupid! Of course she isn't against you! She's been there every step of the way; after Deep Throat's death, after her abduction and getting cancer, even after the FBI split you up when the X-Files was closed...
She had to love him.
He was too weak to do anything, though. To tell her how he felt. Mulder was truly terrified of rejection and therefor didn't do anything about it. But if he'd told her before.. maybe Collin wouldn't be in the picture.
It doesn't matter now.
He looked up at Scully, nodding. "I know." His voice was barely a whisper. "I know what I am. I can't change. I've always felt alone, after Samantha's abduction.."
Scully frowned, coming to sit beside him. "You don't have to be alone. And... we've been over this Mulder. Remember when you lost your memory for that weekend? And the k-killer?" Mulder's throat dried up. "She wasn't abducted by aliens. There's too much evidence against that."
"Then why do I remember the light? Why do I remember her being taken out of the window? Why do I remember how much of a coward I was for not saving her in time?" Scully opened her mouth to respond but Mulder was quicker. "A-And my father! I couldn't save him either, could I? Krycek killed him right in the other room. I was fucking blamed for his death and everyone was okay with it!" Tears began to stream down his face. He was so broken, wasn't he? "And my mother... sh..." His voice broke as he let out a sob. "She called me before she killed herself. I-I could've talked to her. Understood what she was saying. But she took her life since I didn't take the time to pick up the fucking phone. Because I was too busy with other things. Because I was a coward."
He cried into his hands, not caring anymore. He wasn't embarrassed. He wasn't hiding it. Because he was showing how he felt. For once in his life he was letting everything out.
Scully wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close. Then something clicked in Mulder. He shook his head and pulled away, standing to his feet. His eyes were bloodshot-red as he turned to face her, feeling a new kind of pain in his body. Heartache. It weighed him down, hurt him so badly. He wanted to crumple to the ground and sink into the dirt. Be forgotten forever.
"Leave Scully." He held back more tears. "I just want to be alone."
"Leave!" he snapped back, eyes full of sorrow and grief. Every terrible emotion he'd ever felt. "I didn't need you coming here anyway!"
Scully looked confused. And hurt. Mulder understood, he would've felt the same. And to his surprise, she listened. She nodded silently and placed the first aid kit back in his kitchen, casting him one last pained glance before she opened the door and left.
Mulder stood frozen for a few moments, wondering if all of that had really just happened. It had. He'd broken down in front of Scully. Broken down in front of Scully. What the fuck. Why. Why had he done that? Tears welled in his eyes as he sucked in a deep breath, staggering on the oxygen. He suddenly yelled and turned to punch the nearest wall, kicking the couch and anything around him. He kicked until his foot was numb. Hard sobs racked Mulder's body as he fell to the ground like the pathetic useless piece of garbage he was and just laid there. He didn't want to move. He'd just fall back into his self-pity mode and have those same thoughts of suicide. I mean, truly, everyone he cared about was dead or gone. His whole family was deceased, so were all his friends, like Deep Throat and Mr. X, Scully had Collin, and Skinner didn't even notice him anymore.
He was alone. Completely, and he knew he always would be, just because of who he was and how he acted with other people.
A sigh slipped from his lips.
He could do it now. Just put the gun to his head and pull the trigger. But something held him back. Was it Scully? Skinner? Or was it to seek the truth of aliens and their connection to the government? To seek the truth of everything he'd ever seen?
Maybe it was that. But he would not kill himself. No, not yet. Not until he was finished seeking everything he'd spent his life trying to find. He would continue on, no matter how shitty his life was or became.
At least that's what he hoped.