So here I was, in the hospital again. However, this time, I wasn't the one hurt. At least not physically. Emotionally, I was broken. Scully was the one in the hospital bed this time, and I didn't like it at all. I was pissed, to be honest. The kid who shot her, was a lucky son of a bitch. Surely, if he had killed her, I would've killed him, and then followed right after. I know its morbid, but its probably the closest thing to the truth that I've ever known. Scully is my life, and I'd be nowhere and nobody, without her. And, there is nobody, except Scully, to disagree with me.
Her temporary partner, Peyton Ritter, shot her. A classic rookie mistake. He didn't follow the rule book. Like I should be the one to talk. But, I've never shot a fellow agent. I've come close.
I remember it clearly. I heard the men from Violent Crimes talking about Scully's luscious lips, and talking about how they'd like to throw her into a head board. I damn near caught myself a murder charge. But... I heard Scully's rational voice saying, "they aren't worth it, Mulder. Let it go." And, what could I really do? She has always been my voice of reason.
Scully liked to stop me from doing ridiculous things, even if it meant doing the right thing.
Like last Friday. Scully scolded me for defending her honor. We were getting on the elevator. Scully had accidently cut in front of a rookie agent, and said her apologies.
And he mumbled. "Don't worry about it, I quite like the view from back here." I turned around so fast, he saw him self out of the elevator. And Scully reminded me of why that was uncalled for, and probably why there were rumors about the two of us. But damn it, nobody disrespects Scully and gets away with it.
I damn near lost my voice of reason. I came incredibly close, and it knocked the wind out of me. I was scared to death. In fact, there was a nurse who made me sit down, because I had turned so damn white. I about fainted. I nearly lost my life. And, I know, its so damn poetic. But, have you ever loved someone so much it physically hurt? Maybe that's true love. Maybe that is what every artist, country song, and poet was trying to tell us. And I finally got it. I felt it in my chest.
And, so back to the present. Scully was in the middle of a disagreement of sorts with her mother. See, Charlie called Mrs. Scully, because Bethany, his wife, went into premature labor. Well, Mrs. Scully was supposed to take care of Scully for the remainder of her recovery period, which was another 2-4 weeks. So Scully was sort of at a fork in the road. And, I saw my moment. Was I going to watch that ship sail by? Absolutely not. I am a lot of things, but stupid is not one of them... Selfish, maybe, but not Stupid.
"Mom, I can take care of myself. I am a doctor, you know. I actually have a diploma and everything," Scully tried to make a point. And, if she had maybe been shot in the arm, I'd see her point. But this was the abdomen. This wasn't something you could just walk away from. I watched Scully cry to herself yesterday, because she couldn't get out of bed herself. She didn't know I was watching, and I just let her have her moment. I wasn't going to make it worse. I know she wants to be strong for me, always. And, she is a strong, independent woman. Needing help getting out of bed was a blow to her ego. I understand.
And so, I make my presence known. "Hey, everyone. How's our cooperative patient today," I say with sarcasm and a large smile.
"Mulder, shut up," she says in that matter of fact tone. And it sends a jolt to my happy, little heart.
"Mrs. Scully, go wherever you need to go. I can take care of Dana," I say. And I inwardly cringe at Scully's first name. It doesn't even feel right. She's Scully to me, and she always will be.
"Mulder, no. My recovery time is 2-4 weeks, and you've got work to do." She says this very firmly. That's my Scully.
"Scully, don't be ridiculous. I have plenty of vacation time. And, I'd love to do this for you." I would, too. Taking care of Scully would be so domestic. My man card would be taken from me, but spending any kind of time with Scully is my definition of a good time. I love her, damn it.
"Mulder, it's just..." and she dies of right there. Mrs. Scully looks at her. Shes begging her to take my offer.
And I can tell she doesn't have any kind of argument left in her, whether she is tired, or maybe she wants to do this just as badly as me. Whatever it is, I have gotten my way, once again. Some things never change.
"Good. It's settled. Mrs. Scully, we will keep in touch," I say proudly, like I've just won a huge stuffed animal at a fair. And really, Scully is the equivalent to finally winning one of those beautifully, large stuffed animals you see hanging. The ones that you spend a lot of time and effort on, and definitely dedication, trying to win. Where you go through a bunch of other stuffed animals, and trade them in to get to the one you really want... And in the end, it was all worth it, without a doubt. Scully is my fair stuffed animal, and just about the same size. But I will keep that to myself.
"Fine. I'll be released tomorrow. But, Mulder, I am saying this now. NO WORK!" And, I think she was serious. Not like I would even dare.
"I cross my heart," I said, using my finger, making a sloppy cross over my heart. And you know what? I meant it, too! I couldn't wait to spend domestic bliss with Scully. There were so many things we knew about each other, but so many things that we didn't know. And we have about four weeks to figure it all out and to figure each other out.