It was easy for her to say she didn’t miss him. It was easy to pretend that the separation was easy for her, like it was natural. It was easy to do all that during the day. But at night? That was different. When it was only her and her thoughts alone in her cold house, well that was a whole different story. During the day, she was Doctor Scully. Saving lives was her natural state. She was in her element. People looked up to her, respected her for being the best in her field. At night, she was Dana. She went to the grocery store, the gym, hell she even went on dates every once in a while. She was just another face in the crowd. No one could guess what she’d seen, what she’d been through. She was normal. The one thing she craved more than life itself, however, was to be Scully again. To be his Scully again. The one who shared every up and down, admittedly more down, with the man she loved more than life itself. Her heart betrayed her night after night in her dreams. He was always there, rambling about some monster here or supernatural occurrence there. Every morning, she woke with a smile on her face until she realized none of it was real. He wasn’t there, and it was her fault. She had walked out on him when he needed her most. She had left, and for that, she could never forgive herself. She only hoped he would.
He couldn’t kid even himself about how much he missed Dana, his Scully. When she left, she took the last shred of his heart with her. He spent most days alone, aside from the weekly therapy session and the occasional grocery store trip. This unremarkable house had proven him right when she left, it truly was unremarkable, with an unremarkable man living in it. She took any meaning the house had with her when she packed her bags and said: “you need help, Mulder”. Despite what he felt, he was getting better. He was becoming more human again. He took care of himself, took care of the house in her absence. She said she’d come back, and he hoped like hell that was true. He understood why she left. He wanted so badly to hate her for it, but she was right. He needed help, and he wasn’t going to get it if she was there. He had no reason to. If she was there, he had all that he wanted in life. She was going to make him work for it. He didn’t know working to get her back would hurt so bad.
She had meant to go to work that morning. She had every intention of driving herself to the hospital. But somewhere between home and work, she found herself pulling her cellphone out and calling in. She was pulling into his driveway before the fear set in and she realized what she was doing. She took a deep breath and got out of her car, gently shutting her door and walking onto their —his— porch. She raised her hand to knock, but before her knuckles made contact with the wooden door, she saw his figure in the doorway.
“Mulder,” she whispered.
“Scully,” he whispered back as he opened the door for her.
A moment of silence passed as she entered the house.
“It’s cleaner than before,” she noted. He made a sound of affirmation. She turned back to him and enveloped him in a hug,
“I’ve missed you so much,” her voice broke softly as he pulled her tighter into his chest.
“I’ve missed you too, Scully,” he kissed the top of her head gently and she smiled up at him.
“Can I come home?” She asked gently.
“I thought you’d never ask,” he entangled their fingers and brought her hand up, gently kissing her knuckles.