From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org Date: 7 Apr 2001 15:57:06 -0000 Subject: Citrus by verite Source: direct Reply To: saving_grace1013@excite.com Title: Citrus Author: Verite Rating: PG, if that Disclaimer: Not mine, they never were and never will be. Sigh. We all know whom they belong to. Feedback: Yes, please. saving_grace1013@excite.com Category: Mulder/Scully POV, MSR, angst Spoilers: DeadAlive sort of, Sixth Extinction, Amor Fati Archive: yes Note: This is my first. Be gentle. Thanks to those who paved the way. Summary: "You though, you're still my constant, my everything. When the world's falling apart, you're here to carry me." "No, Mulder, we carry each other." ~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~ Sunlight spilt in the cool bedroom on the heels of a breeze and did a lazy slow dance with the shadows gathering in the corners. The fresh spring smell that had arrived with April hung heavy in the air, and Georgetown was a mix of late- afternoon and early evening. Horns blared on the streets below, radios hummed their tuneless bass, and Mulder could hear the O's warming up in their first week of the season, the announcers' voices filtering in from the apartment next door. Cal Ripken was gonna do it again, it seemed. He made the headlines every year. Mulder was content to listen to the ordinary sounds of life as they ebbed and flowed around him. You never know how much you miss the little things until all you have is screaming and drilling and pain and then silence. Oh, the silence was terrible. He hummed deep in his chest, and stretched cat-like blinking his eyes a little in the dying light. God, what he wouldn't do for a moment free from pain; It had been years really since he had felt honestly healthy, since before Africa...just a preview of the real horror show to come. A light knock on the door interrupted his reverie, as Scully quietly entered the room and sat on the bed next to him. Mulder was awed by her appearance, full and round and beautiful in her seventh month. So much had changed while he was gone, but he could feel only relief at being granted a second chance. If he were a cat, he'd be on his ninth life and then some. Every day from now would feel like a gift, like so much precious borrowed time. "Hey," she whispered, annoyed but pleased to see him awake. He never was much for following orders. "Hey, yourself. Come over here," he said, smoothing his palm over the rough texture of the chenille bedspread. She complied, pushing herself across the expanse and into his waiting arms. She spooned up to him, back to front, and let her breath out with a whoosh when she was finally settled. "That takes so much more effort than it used to," a grin playing at the corners of her mouth. His only response was a tightening of his arms, which was fine with her. What else was there to say? This was enough, and contentment welled up in the spaces grief and loneliness had carved. Silence stretched and pooled as night fell over the cityscape. The only noise in the room was the tick of an old-fashioned alarm clock on the dresser, and the street sounds rising in the balmy night. Their breathing grew in tandem as a strange calm after the storm encroached. The lassitude was a gentle reprieve. She stirred a little as Mulders' breath settled on her neck, his fingers tracing circles on her belly. Despite the peace of the atmosphere, she was wide-awake. She could not miss a moment of this, the magic that renewed life brought. This was a true Easter season, she thought...I have experienced a miracle. "Mmm, I love the smell of your hair," Mulder said into the quiet, the darkness swallowing his words. "Like lemons and oranges, like summer." She turned to him then and looked up into his face. "Mulder...what do you remember?" She betrayed no hesitation, he would speak if he wanted to, and if not, he would keep his own counsel until he was ready. He tensed under her fingers, his weary eyes shifting in the dim illumination from the streetlight. He sighed then, and spoke filling the silence. Each word was edged with grief. "I don't remember everything...and the stuff that I do..." He halted, the words strangled in his throat. "I'm not ready to share that yet. Not with you, not with anyone, sometimes not even myself. The truth is out there, Scully, and it cost a terrible price." She nodded her head once, a tear escaping absently to trail down her cheek. "I hurt so much right now, mentally and physically. I just don't know what to do with it all, where to focus this knot of, of, of hurt. My world is upside-down, and the pain just goes on forever. I don't know who I am, but I know I'm not the same as before. I feel so ugly, and..." He half shrugged his shoulder. "I don't know, violated I guess," he finished, at a loss for words. "You though, you're still my constant, my everything. When the world's falling apart, you're here to carry me." He smoothed the tears from her face with a gentle sweep of his hand. "No, Mulder, we carry each other." She leaned into his touch, then placed a hand on his scarred cheek, and kissed his forehead, mirroring her actions in that hallway a lifetime ago. His eyes shifted again, from love, to worry, and back to anguish. "If I let all my grief and anger and pain and rage out," he continued, "I'm not sure how long I'd cry or when I'd stop. Most of all, I'm not sure what would be left. I'll tell you one thing, though. When I was there in that place, I thought constantly of you. You were my salvation." He stopped to gather his thoughts, and noticed light refracting off her cross. So much strength faith has... "Every little thing about you was important. There was one thing," he paused. "Every time they did those terrible things to me, cut me, butchered me, left me in so much pain I wanted to die, I thought of lemons and oranges, and then I thought of you. It was the strangest thing. I couldn't figure out the connection and didn't really care to try at the time. Every second was fear and wishing for a quick end. But lemons and oranges made me feel safe. You made me feel safe. I realized just now that the smell of your hair was what I remembered. It was such a comfort. I can't even describe..." he stopped and his back shuddered under Scully's palm. She gathered him close and rocked him as his tears soaked her shirt and mingled with her own sorrow. She did not stop him, nor did she want to. She kissed the scars on his cheeks and he tasted like the sea. "Shhh, baby, just let it all out. You're home now, you're safe, and no one can touch us here. I'm so glad you had that memory." Darkness enveloped them as grief passed though to morning. Mulder sighed and wrapped his arms around Scully in a fierce hug, early sunlight streaming in the kitchen window. On the table sat a bowl full of lemons and oranges.