Past Pain II

By Jeannine Ackerson

 

3/25/97

 

Rating: PG.

Disclaimer: The X-Files and the characters portrayed therein are property of C. Carter, Fox Broadcasting, 1013 Prod., etc. Some ideas and dialogue were inspired or are from Diamond Rio's "Who Am I". No copyright infringement is intended.

Relationship: MSR and angst. If you are still unconvinced that they love each other, even after all the visual and audible evidence, please don't read any further. (You'll only be distressed.)

Dedication: For Uncle D. and the rest of us "walking wounded".

Summary: In the wake of the re-emergence of Mulder's "beliefs", he begins to wonder just what Scully has ever seen in him, and what he gives her in return.

Hi all! I wasn't planning a follow up for "Past Pain", I didn't think it needed one, but I heard this song and, well, you know . . . <g>. Knowing that not everyone goes in for song stories, I'm just doing some rewording and skipping the lyrics. So here's the addendum scene in this story. Now let's go . . .

As Fox Mulder sat there, still reeling from the aftermath, he knew he'd gotten lucky.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize it. Even a FBI Special Agent like himself could tell that he'd been favored by some cosmic force; given a special dispensation by the universe with the presence of Dana Scully in his life.

Siting there on the couch of her apartment, holding her in his arms assuredly reminded him of that.

There had been so many times that he was certain that he would end up alone that he'd never expected this. Never expected to love and be loved. But it seemed that his fate had been changed the day Scully had changed his life.

Memories of stakeouts, iced tea and root beer flashed briefly through his mind. He'd known that it was love, even then. Thinking back, he realized that her words were the more prophetic. "It must be fate Mulder." Fate. It had led them to each other. And as he'd told her before, fate was something that they had no personal control over.

He was certain that he was destined to be nobody special. He had accepted that he would be stuck in his basement, his work discounted until his dying day. He would never have gotten as close without his partner.

When Scully had been assigned to work with him, she'd seen in him the person he'd wanted to be. He had tried from that day on to try and live up to her expectations. Because she'd made him believe that he could be that person. And he wanted to be that man she knew he could be.

Even now, it was hard for him to understand how he'd become the man he was because of her. One that she was willing to sacrifice her honor and her career and her life for. One that seemed to give her what she needed. One that made her happy.

Somehow, somewhere he'd grown in ways he had never even realized he needed to. But he had to admit that he liked the man Scully made him. The demons she'd cast out an hour before had left him a changed man.

One who didn't have to wonder if the woman that he loved, loved him.

Although the doubts he'd had earlier, had harbored for years were melting like snow on a summer's day under her love, some questions still remained.

Like who was he to be loved by Dana Scully?

The way that he was, sometimes selfish, often obtuse, frequently demanding; how did she love him like this, the way that she did. All encompassing and without regret. She had simply opened her heart and let him in. There were no strings attached to her love. No conditions, save that he stop ditching her. He remembered the request she'd made of him with mild amusement.

He was certain that he didn't deserve a love this true. It was more than he could ever have asked for. More than he'd ever wanted or imagined. It was complete.

Who am I, he wondered of himself. Mulder didn't ponder that question too often. He knew very well what he'd become. Who was he to have earned her love?

Looking at her, the auburn hair, leaning towards fire red; the azure eyes that could blaze love; the pale skin like silk; the lips, the hands, the . . . everything about her amazed him.

The fact that she could have any man she wanted never surprised him. She could be waltzing in Paris, or sipping champagne on some yacht; a woman of luxury. A millionaire's girlfriend, jet setting across the world. Yet here she was, in his arms. In his bed at night. In his heart and soul. In his life.

It was more than his heart could fathom, that this was where she chose to be. That she wanted to be here for the rest of her life. And that her love was his.

He'd asked her early on if she had any doubts. And she'd said no. With an inward strength he knew she had, she had decided to give everything she had to this. To them. Nothing was held back. She'd given him all of her.

And he'd pondered her decision for a long time.

Who am I, to be loved by you, he wondered again silently, looking at her still locked in his embrace. The way that I am, the way that you do? I don't deserve a love this true. Who am I to be loved by you?

And suddenly, like telepathy the answer appeared in his mind.

Fox William Mulder. The man she loves.

And with a wide, silly grin he tightened his grip on her. He knew that his worth wasn't the issue. For love was given, not earned.

And she'd given him hers.

-End-

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