******************************************************************** This author's e-mail address has changed to: pindaran@hotmail.com ******************************************************************** From: Rhetta Date: 16 May 2002 20:07:47 -0700 Subject: [all-xf] NEW: Trust Me (1/1) Source: atxc TITLE: Trust Me (1 of 1) AUTHOR: Rhetta RATING: PG-13 CLASSIFICATION: Vignette DISTRIBUTION: Anywhere, just let me know. FEEDBACK: rhoannan@att.net SPOILERS: 'Demons' DISCLAIMER: Mulder, Scully, and The X-Files aren't mine. They belong to Chris Carter, 1013, and Fox. You'd think they would treat them a little nicer. I sure would. SUMMARY: Trust isn't given lightly. AUTHOR'S NOTES: Written for the After The Fact 'Demons' Episode Challenge. ********** They say that in times of great trauma you gain a glimpse of who you really are. I don't like what I've seen. I don't like knowing how far I would go with only the barest hint of a possible answer to what 'might' have happened to Samantha to guide me. Or knowing what I would be willing to do when I got there. I'm almost positive most sane people wouldn't let someone shoot them up with animal sedatives and then have a hole drilled in their head just for a shot at a few colorful and highly-painful flashbacks. Well, alleged flashbacks anyway. I'm also pretty sure a lot of crazy people wouldn't let them do that either. The question is, what side of the camp does that put me on now? Sanity, of course, is overrated. Crazy on the other hand... The sound of a key rattling in my front door interrupts whatever internal train of thought my mind was about to take me on. Probably a good thing since I've never had a lot of luck with trips. "Mulder..." I stifle a groan. This was why Clark Kent never traded keys with Lois Lane. Where's a good Fortress of Solitude when you need it? She walks into the room and looks around. "Sitting in the dark again? This must be bad." She's attempting a light tone, but the concern is practically dripping off her. It would be touching if I didn't know how she really felt. How she couldn't help but feel considering what I did. Or almost did. "Weren't you just here Scully?" I ask with a scowl. "That was this morning. Nine hours ago." "I wondered why I was hungry again." I mutter. "Mulder, when was the last time you ate something?" I think I can actually hear the frown in her voice. I shrug. "I've been on a liquid diet." "It appears you've been dieting for quite some time," she says crisply. I'm willing to bet cash money that eyebrow went up. "I am not drunk Scully." OK, that came out a little loud. Take it down a notch there. "I'm not drunk," I say quietly. "I'm in a contemplative mood." Scully turns on the light nearest her. "Yeah, a couple more of those and you're going to be blind stinking contemplative." I look at her sourly. I'm really not in the mood right now for the comic stylings of Dana Scully. "Don't give me that look Mulder. You know you shouldn't be drinking alcohol. You're still recuperating." "It's been over 24 hours since my last jaunt down memory lane Scully. Trust me, I'm recouped." She stands in front of me with her arms crossed and eyes me appraisingly. Doctor Scully is officially in the house. "One more day. Then you're 'recouped.' I squint up at her. "So what, you're saying that as long as I don't start reliving any uh, past events in Glorious Technicolor it's pretty much Miller Time?" She stares at me for a moment. "Seriously Mulder, how much have you drank?" "Scully, stop it. I'm not drunk." "I know, I know." She waves her hand. "Contemplative mood." I look at her. Really look. There's a ghost of a smile on her lips. She's amused. I catch her eye, hoping some of that 'unspoken communication' everyone says we have will kick in. It doesn't. She's still looking at me like she trusts me. Obviously she's not getting it. I can't be trusted. Not anymore. Not when it comes to those I care about. Not when it comes to her. "Scully, why are you here? I pulled a gun on you." She nods sympathetically. "I know you did. I understand." I shake my head, frustrated. "No! No you don't understand." I lean forward and stare intently at her. "I would have fired Scully. If I had thought at the time that it would have helped to lead me to my sister I would have done it. I would have pulled the trigger. Ended your life. All for what in all probability wasn't even real. You would have been dead and I would have been..." Her face softens. "You weren't yourself Mulder. There were extenuating circumstances. The effects of the ketamine and the..." "Scully, listen to yourself. I have extenuating circumstances for almost killing my partner. That doesn't frighten you?" I rub my eyes. "It sure terrifies me." "You wouldn't have done it Mulder. "It was close. It was so close." I close my eyes and lean my head back on the couch. "I don't even want to admit how close it was," I say half to myself. Scully sits down beside me. I look over at her. She looks back. "Life is full of close calls Mulder. I've had my share of them. Everyone has. It's not your fault, and I'm sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but your flawed just like the rest of us." She smiles slightly. "Although bear in mind that after the next few times I'm going to start to take it personal." I shake my head. She doesn't understand. Not really. "Scully, do you know how many times this has made?" She sighs. "Made what?" "That I've held a gun on you. Do you know how many?" "How many times have I held one on you? Do you really think it does any good to sit here and count up something that in the long run is neither of our faults?" "What if it happens again Scully and you aren't able to stop me? Will that not be my fault either? Will it make it any less final?" "You can't judge yourself by what you might do in the future. Deal with the present. And in the present Mulder, even drugged, I have faith that you'd never pull the trigger. I trust you and I trust that even when you're not in your right mind, when it comes down to it, you do the right thing. But don't quote me on that. Or apply it to other things." I glance over at her and for the first time in days, I smile. I haven't the slightest idea how she does it, but sometimes just talking with her has a way of making things seem less horrible than they are. I wonder if it's a medical thing. Scully takes a deep breath. "Mulder, about what happened..." I knew it. She doesn't trust me. She's just been try... "Mulder it's not about that. Get that look off your face." Why do I always expect to hear 'The Twilight Zone' music when she does that? She looks at me for a moment and then continues. "It's about that...medical procedure you let that 'Doctor' do to you." She grimaces. "I still can't believe you did that. That you'd have so little regard for your own health." "Scully..." "No Mulder. I don't want to get into a discussion. I just need to know that you're not going to go out and do something like this again." "What? You mean have a hole drilled in my head? Trust me Scully, after you've done it once it kind of loses it's appeal." "You did it twice." "I don't remember the first time." "But you know you did it!" She snaps. "You know what happened to the others and you still asked him to do it again." I stand up abruptly and start to pace. "I thought it was a way to find Samantha! Any chance of finding her I'll take. Any chance." I stop and look at her. "It's been so long Scully. I just want her back. I don't even care if she doesn't remember me." I run a hand through my hair and take a shaky breath. "I just...want her back. I want to hear her voice again. I want to see her face. I need to see her face." She stands up and puts her hand on my cheek. I cover it with mine. "You will see it. You'll find her and you'll see her face. I know it." I squeeze her hand. There's tears in her eyes, but she smiles. After a moment she slowly pulls her hand back. I let it go. It'll be there again when I need it. No matter what I might do. I know that now. I came so close to losing everything. So close. I want to see Samantha again. I do. But I don't want to have to lose myself to find her. Or lose Scully. "I'll get us something to eat," she says finally. She looks around then back at me. "Where's the phone?" I smile. And this time I'm a little more successful. Maybe it's not a medical thing after all. Maybe it's just a Scully thing.