And, You Thought You’d Never Stand Out
Mulder can’t sleep so he calls his person.
It was late. Which, typically, meant absolutely nothing to Mulder. It wasn’t like his body held any concept of time save for age.
In truth, he’d been like this since he was a kid; since Samantha was taken. It had started off as paralyzing fear that the bright light might come back while he as asleep and the notion that he’d wake alone, his family never to be seen again. As he got older, it became the nightmares. He’d wake with his heart pounding in his chest and completely disoriented. He’d tried to stay awake to avoid the panic and, over time, that had developed into insomnia.
Mulder flipped through the channels on the TV. There wasn’t anything on this late that wasn’t some kind of infomercial. If he was home more often, he’d pay for cable just to have some late-night options.
Absently, he reached for the cell phone on the coffee table. Realizing what he was doing, he put the phone back down. She would be asleep. It was two in the morning and she was a normal person.
Mulder smirked at that thought. Well, Dana Scully was anything but normal. Still, she was the yin to his yang. She was the skeptic to his believer. Where he lacked the ability to get a full night’s sleep, she slept like the dead.
Yet, she always answered the phone when he called.
Why was that?
She always knew he was the one calling, too. Mulder wondered if that was a good or bad thing. He didn’t want to be an annoyance to her. She was the one who helped him clear his head.
Insomnia or no, when he did get any amount of sleep, it was always after a conversation with her. Something about it was soothing, he supposed. He felt like she was the one person in the world who actually cared about him.
He liked that. It was nice knowing at least one person was happy about his existence. He saw it when she looked at him every morning. Her eyes lit up. He’d noticed it for a long time, but only recently had Mulder realized what that light actually was.
Love.
Or, something akin to it, anyway.
In a lot of ways, this thing between them was incredibly new. They’d taken the proverbial plunge. Yet, in other ways, it felt like they’d always been together.
“Mulder?” Scully’s sleepy voice asked and, only then, did he realize he’d picked up the phone and actually called her.
Oops.
“Hey,” he greeted softly. “Did I wake you?”
“It’s after… two o’clock in the morning.”
He nodded as though she could see him. “Sorry. I’ll let you go back to sleep.”
“It’s okay,” she sighed. Mulder heard the lamp click. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t sleep.”
“I gave you something for that,” she replied and he could practically hear her frowning. It made him smirk.
“I don’t really like the idea of taking a sedative, Scully,” he replied, feigning indignation. She chuckled softly. “I really am sorry that I woke you. I guess I didn’t really realize the time.”
It wasn’t entirely true and the scoff she gave him told him that she knew that, too.
“So, what’s keeping you up tonight?”
“I don’t know,” he confessed. “I guess I’m just obsessing.”
“Over…?”
“I don’t know. My brain won’t shut off.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment and Mulder wondered if she’d fallen back to sleep.
“Do you want me to come over?” Scully finally offered.
Mulder had half a mind to take her up on the offer but it was late and, at the risk of sounding every bit as overprotective as he knew he actually was, he didn’t want her driving this late. Especially if she was as tired as she sounded.
“No, it’s okay.” He paused. “Have you ever noticed I always call you at ridiculous hours?” He mused aloud. Scully chuffed a laugh. “Of course, you have,” he chucked. “You’re my person, Scully; the only one that answers my call no matter what.”
“Mm,” she replied.
“Hey, Scully?”
“Hmm?”
Okay, she’d devolved from sentences to words to sounds. He didn’t have much longer before she was unconscious again.
“Tell me a story.”
Scully sighed. “What kind of story?”
“A bedtime story.”
She laughed at that and he smiled. He liked being able to make her laugh. It was one of his few triumphs in this life.
“You’re a little old for a bedtime story, aren’t you?” She teased.
His grin widened.
“No one is too old for a bedtime story, Scully.”
“Ah.”
“I’ll let you go back to sleep.”
“Mulder, are you sure you’re okay?”
“I guess that depends on who you ask,” he replied playfully. She didn’t bite.
“I’m asking you.”
Mulder sighed. “Yeah, I’m okay. I guess, I just wanted to hear your voice.”
Scully was silent for a moment and he wondered if that was the wrong thing to say. It probably was. It was probably too soon for those kinds of confessions.
Sure, he’d been in love with her longer than he cared to try to figure out, but where she stood tended to remain a mystery. He was pretty sure that she loved him, too. They hadn’t said the words, though. Not yet, anyway.
He would, though. Soon.
Maybe.
Probably.
“Once upon a time,” she began and he smiled widely and nestled into his deceptively comfortable couch, prepared to fall asleep to the sound of her voice.
