#every so often when the restlessness sets in i'll just pick a state and imagine an entire life there

[dionysus-complex]

been thinking about Ohio lately

[mulderwantstobelieve]

I Don’t Want You To Go Home Tonight

I Don’t Want You To Go Home Tonight

“Mulder... why are we choosing to be alone?”

Rating: PG-13

Description: A Post-Ep for the flashbacks shown in Per Manum. Scully’s IVF treatment has failed and Mulder decides to stay with her that night to comfort her with wine and her favorite salad.

Author’s Note: Basically, this fic is my idea of what led up to their “First Time”. I love the idea of All Things being their first time, but this is my IDEAL first time story for them. I think it makes sense with the IVF story arc and with their characters. I imagine this happening somewhere between All Things and before Requiem (probably right before Requiem).

cover photo yoinked from @iddoitforfreebaabe

******

"Never give up on a miracle," Mulder told her, his forehead placed against her own. Scully sniffled as she felt some snot trying to escape her nose. She pulled him in to give him a tender kiss on the cheek and then into a hug.

Mulder's closeness made her feel she was at yet another crossroads in their partnership. Part of her, the one that felt insecure and afraid, could tell him "Go home, Mulder, I'll be fine."

She was tempted to retreat to her room and send him to worry about her somewhere else. Anywhere but in front of her. They could go back to work next week and move on from yet another traumatic event, travel to a new city or state, and they could carry on without letting each other in.

This loss, the impossibility of becoming a mother with her own flesh and blood, was making her soul the weight of a millstone. She had nothing left. Chasing monsters and fighting all the damn time wasn't keeping her alive anymore. It was making her feel old now. Hasn't it gone on long enough?

That part of her wanted him to stay, the part that felt too tired to keep going. That part of her wanted him to slow down and not leave her behind. She wanted him to stay.

Before she could speak her mind, Mulder broke the silence.

"I'm staying here for a while. To make sure you're going to be okay."

Despite the battle going on in her mind, she let him make the decision. Honestly, she was too tired and her brain was so overworked to even talk. She gave him a nod against his shoulder and pulled away to look at him.

Mulder became aware of how dry his mouth was as he felt a small pang of anxiety in his stomach. He felt the weight of the atmosphere, not just from grief of Scully's lost hope, but because he was at a crossroads of his own.

Earlier, he had sat on Scully's couch for what seemed like hours, his mind reeling with all of the choices to be made. He thoughts of two worlds: Scully is pregnant, Scully is not pregnant.

If Scully were to be pregnant, what would he do? How would he fit in to her life? They hadn’t exactly discussed that part of it. Would he be around to become crazy uncle Mulder, sharing tales of myths and Sasquatch and teaching the kid baseball? Or would he and Scully drift apart as she enters motherhood? Would he be present to watch a child grow up with her eyes and his smile, her hair and his nose, her stubbornness and his adventurous spirit... without feeling connected to them? Would he watch as their child goes through first days of school and college, one day getting married, and having children?

Would he remain on the outside as an observer, watching everything happen in montages while he goes home alone, chasing whatever the hell comes next?

But there was another option: he could be here. He could feel happy with her. He could hold her when she feels sick or insecure. He could tell her he loves her. He could hold his child in his arms.

He could be a father.

These thoughts would have scared him a few years ago, but things have changed. And even if Scully were to come home with the news that they weren't having a child, they couldn't go back to their comfortable invulnerability anymore. Not after this.

Mulder pondered these thoughts again as he and Scully stood there for another minute, his arms still wrapped around her waist. He hoped he was comforting her despite the depressing results. Though they both knew there was a high chance the IVF wouldn’t work and Scully becoming pregnant was nearly impossible, it was hard to accept that believing wasn't enough this time.

"I'm going to take a shower, I might be in there for a while. I need to be alone," Scully said as she broke their embrace. He raised a hand to her cheek, but she stared at the wall behind him.

"I'll be here." She gave him a small smile in return and disappeared down the hall.

He decided to go pick up some food from a place down the street he knows she likes. They have these strawberry poppy seed salads that she'll even eat when lacking an appetite. He could at least try whatever he could to get her mind off of this.

He picked up some wine as well, hoping that it may dull her pain. He tried to think of all the topics he could bring up to get her mind off of it, knowing it wouldn't help much, but he could make a strong effort.

A short while after he returned with their dinner, Scully came out of the bathroom. She had taken the time to blow-dry her hair, which he took note of. She still had the energy to dry her hair, which isn't a bad thig but he was aware of the fact that restless working was how she coped, so he needed to be sure she relaxed tonight.

They watched a black and white TV movie that they didn't know the name of. It wasn't interesting, but it was distracting. Mulder and Scully ate their dinner on the couch in silence. He noticed Scully smiling after seeing what he ordered her which made something in his stomach feel warm. A full-tooth smile from her always made him smile back. When the first glass of wine was poured, it became easier to have a conversation.

"Thanks for being here," Scully said after a few moments of sipping her wine. She was facing the TV, cupping the glass against her chest.

"N-no problem," he said a little too quickly, happy she was wanting to talk now. "Actually my plans for the evening were a little boring." He said, facing her direction. He slung his arm over the back of the couch, his wrist hid in her hair.

"Oh yeah, what were they?" She smiled from the inside of her cup. She turned to face him now, her expression lifted.

"It's what I do every Friday night, Scully. Stay late at the office, get Chinese takeout, think about possibly doing my dishes but instead throwing a dart at a map and calling you to tell you we're going to wherever-the-hell, Oklahoma because there's gotta be some cryptic or source waiting for us there..."

Scully began to smile wide and a small chuckle escaped her lips when she realized he was joking.

"...then I take a shower and lay in bed, wondering about the mysteries of the universe. Is that not what you do?" He said, trying to hold back a laugh.

Scully replied with another big smile, "Wow, Mulder, that's exactly my same routine!"

"I thought so!" he grinned, looking at his lap. "Where are your darts, Scully? I'm a creature of habit."

She shot him a jokingly stern look and leaned towards the coffee table to pour herself another glass.

"Actually," she began, "my plans are more like: pick up groceries, clean the bathroom, wash my hair, then get into bed... sleeping soundly because I couldn't care less about Bigfoot or sentient plant life or demons trying to nibble my toes," She giggled and Mulder rolled his eyes.

"You don't have trouble sleeping, Scully? With everything that the universe could hold? You don't even wonder?" He urged.

She shrugged. "I guess I wonder more about stuff that's in my interest. So, less mythical sea creatures and more... real life. I couldn't sleep last night for obvious reasons." She took another swig of wine.

He nodded in understanding. "I guess I do the same thing," he replied.

"Yes, I know you meditate a lot about the Sasquatch, Mulder, but-" she laughed.

"No, no, not just that. Believe it or not, Scully, I am an actual living, breathing man," he laughed and she rolled her eyes. "I think about things that I want. I think about the future. I- I couldn't sleep last night either."

She looked at him, an unreadable expression on her face. "Why's that?"

He paused to form his words correctly and he felt his mouth go dry again.

"I just really wanted this to happen for you."

The lighthearted atmosphere became the familiar, heavy one they felt earlier in the day. They were both remembering what they were trying to escape tonight.

I’m sorry, Dana, but the results came back negative. You are not pregnant.

Scully could hear the words in her head. But she felt Mulder’s empathy, that he was feeling a similar pain. She realized that he lost something too; even if it was unspoken between them, she knew he saw it too. A future.

His words made her smile softly. She looked at him with a tenderness in her eyes he had only seen a handful of times. He saw it in her while she was fighting cancer, while she talked to Emily, while she was informing him of a death of a good friend, when his mother died... and now recently, through the IVF process, he had been seeing more often.

"We're still hoping, right?" He asked, giving her a tender smile.

Scully didn't answer with words. Instead, she set her wine glass on the coffee table and put her arms around him. Her head fell into his chest and they both breathed deeply.

Because of the awkward position of their legs, he decided to lean back and lay down, resting his head on a throw pillow. She accepted his gesture to lay down, remaining in the same position on his chest taking more deep breaths as she remembered the day allover again. He stroked some hair away from her face as his other arm was wrapped tightly around her.

They laid like that for a while, watching the old black and white movie which was full of music and dancing. He waited for her to speak, and if she didn't say anything, he wouldn't mind falling asleep here. Like this.

"Mulder?" Her groggy voice asked. She looked up at him and he hummed in response. "Have you ever felt like there's more? Not... in the universe. But more for you, in this life, in your life. Have you thought of having a family before? Not that it's for everybody."

He continued to gently stroke her hair and replied, "Of course I have, Scully."

Scully nodded in understanding. She didn't resent him for his freedom to start a family if he wanted to; She just wished he could see the joy of it.

There was a pause before Scully started, "At first, I wasn't sure if I wanted to have a family, but after years of traveling, seeing unimaginable things, going through some of the hardest situations of my life... I think at some point, I realized that what I really wanted was one of the most attainable things in the modern world. I can't explain it. Somehow it was the only thing that could be enough for me." She paused for a beat to look up at him. "Do you ever feel that way?"

Mulder met her eyes and rested his thumb on her cheek. He got lost in her gaze for a moment and replied, "I think I'm starting to."

He thought for a moment.

"I think after finding out what happened to my sister, I've started to see things differently. I've accepted the freedom given to me, but it feels emptier than I thought it would."

Finally, she felt a sense of unity between them. Like for the first time, they were on the same page.

Scully then propped herself up on his chest to meet his level and Mulder's arm remained wrapped tightly around her.

She evaluated their position: his arm gripping her waist, her hand on his chest, the smell of wine on his warm breath. This made her heart start thumping a little faster.

An actress in the movie they were watching started singing a song, a romantic song about moonlight and longing. The song seemed to engulf the room, and it was the only thing Scully could hear besides the blood in her ears.

He looked good tonight. Really good. The kitchen light made his features look warm and inviting. His eyes scanned her face, a soft smile appearing on his lips, and she knew she looked quite beautiful herself. She felt beautiful.

Scully then realized she had been staring a little too long without saying anything, and he gave her a subtle squeeze at her hip which reminded her he was actually there.

All this time, they've kept each other at a comfortable distance; seven long years of emotional cushion room, but closing the gap just enough to sneak longing looks and hold hands in the dark.

They could say it's their careers, or they're different people, or they have different desires. But mostly, and they both knew this, it was a shared fear of rejection - that being alone was better than searching for acceptance from someone other than themselves. And they could tell themselves it was enough for them, remaining people who keep each other at a comfortable distance, or they could give in and take a risk for something more.

Mulder swallowed and felt his heart begin to race. He couldn't believe how gorgeous she looked in low light, and he wanted nothing more than to pull her in closer. She was looking at him, almost a drunken haze in her eyes, except she'd only had a glass and a half. Her eyes were bluer than he's ever seen them, and her hair had fallen to frame her face beautifully. Everything was adding onto the emotions clouding his brain - her chest breathing against him, his thumb stroking a bit of bare skin at her hip, their stolen glances at each other's lips...

"Mulder..." she began, her voice hushed and her eyes scanning his face. "...Why are we choosing to be alone?"

Mulder processed her question for a moment. He was tucking some hair behind her ear when he noticed her cheeks were red. He wasn't sure if she was flushed from the wine, or if she was nervous to ask her question. He left his hand resting on her jaw.

If his mouth was dry before, it was a desert now. He was trying to read her face, to predict what would happen next, but only his answer would determine that. He could swear she was inching closer towards him, but it may just be the gravitational pull he felt tugging him to her.

"Are you saying... we have a choice?" He asked quietly, not-so-discreetly staring at her lips now.

She was looking at him in a way that made him dizzy. He couldn't tell if the buzz was from the glass of wine he drank or the way she was making him feel. She, too, seemed to be transfixed on his mouth now.

Scully nodded yes.

He had to remind himself to breathe.

"I-uh-.." He started to form a reply when Scully leaned in closer, not breaking her gaze from his lips. She hovered there, waiting for him to respond.

"Scully.." he said, his breath brushing her lips.

She was too hesitant of her actions, so Mulder reassured her by responding quickly. He pulled her in with the hand that was cupping her cheek, finally placing his lips onto hers. It suddenly felt like a curse broke inside both of them and each one of their fears were fleeing with every second. This kiss wasn't like they had shared for a brief moment at New Year's, this one was urgent and freeing.

His hands wove themselves in her hair, while hers clung to the nape of his neck. Their lips moved at a steady pace, only breaking away to change angles.  The hand that gripped her waist was now trailing up and down her back, catching some bare skin every now and then as her shirt rode up. They couldn't count the seconds, or the minutes, or tell how long the movie had been over since this kiss had started, but Mulder knew he didn't want it to end.

Without breaking their kiss, Scully lifted herself up and put her legs on either side of him, now straddling his waist. It gave him a bit of sobriety as to where things were heading for them tonight, so he slowly broke away. Both of his thumbs were stroking her cheeks now, him and Scully breathing heavy against each other. She was looking at him in a way he had never seen and that made his stomach stir with excitement.

"Scully, I'm-"

"I don't want you to go home tonight," she interjected firmly.

He nodded in understanding, and smiled to tell her that's what he wanted too.

***

Moonlight peered in, leaving bright lines across both of their bodies. The room was still and quiet as they laid there together, Scully softly playing with Mulder's fingers. He held her from behind, and she fit perfectly into his embrace.

"I'm glad I stayed," he hummed softly into her ear. It made her shiver a little bit.

“I’m sorry I ruined your Friday night plans,” She joked.  

“Good one.” He kissed her shoulder gently and breathed her in.

"What's work gonna be like on Monday?" She asked.

"Scully..." He groaned.

"I'm just asking, Mulder," she exclaimed, her voice sounding defensive. "We need to discuss things so they won't become problems later."

"It's going be like working, Scully, but now we have this cool secret that everyone already assumes of us anyway," he said, a touch of sarcasm in his tone. "Don't worry. Just sleep."

His arms felt warm on her belly, which in turn made her feel safe. Mulder smiled as he held her even closer.

[privilege-archives]

MATHIEU SMYTHE ➝ THIRD SIBLING

I'M YOUR BIGGEST FAN

❖ FULL NAME: Mathieu Emil Smythe. ❖ PRONOUNS: He/Him. ❖ AGE: 21. (April 13th). ❖ BIRTH ORDER: Third. Triplet to Second & Fourth Smythe. ❖ GRADE: Junior. ❖ MAJOR: Counseling Psychology. ❖ SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Demisexual. ❖ ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Biromantic. ❖ FACECLAIM: Grant Gustin.

I'LL FOLLOW YOU UNTIL YOU LOVE ME

[[TW for talk of eating disorder, anxiety, hospitalization]]

With fame and fortune being all he’s ever known, it’s no wonder that Mathieu has never really had to worry for much. His earliest memories are composed of flashing lights and people clamoring for his parents’ attention whenever they were out; although Mathieu wasn’t quite about to tell why things were the way that way, versus the lives he saw his friends and people on TV and movies lead, it wasn’t something he ever thought to question. Of course he knew that his mother and father’s professions meant that people looked on them differently than they did most others, and that – as one of their children – there was a certain amount of fame that came with that simple fact. But rather than wonder what it would be like to live a different life, a quieter life, Mathieu let things be. It was simply the way things were. Growing up, his natural disposition was one of quiet kindness and an insatiable wonder for the world and people around him. Though by no means extroverted, Mathieu was known to have a soft-spoken curiosity, and could often times be found reading to himself or striking up conversations with anybody willing to tell him a little bit about themselves, if only because he wanted to understand any and everything he possibly could beyond a surface level.

As he grew older, he kept his sense of curiosity, allowing it to blossom into a charm and charisma that was second nature to him. He still retained an air of privacy, preferring quiet and solitude over the loud raucous that seemed to permeate every aspect of his family, but he easily settled into an identity he’d set for himself: one with a fondness for learning and a desire to help. He was content to fade into the background of his family’s fame, though this desire was often times hard to achieve when he couldn’t so much as leave his home without wondering if it could somehow be used either for or against his parents.

It was around this age that he began to really grasp just what it meant to be a child of the Hollywood elite. The media’s eyes were constantly on his family and, by extension, left Mathieu feeling like every little movement he made was being picked apart and critiqued. Just that thought alone was enough to make him unable to sit still, feeling a constant itch under his skin telling him that he wasn’t supposed to be anything less than the absolute best, not unless he wanted his imperfections to be on display for the entire entertainment world to see. It wasn’t long before Mathieu started to crack, desperately trying to hang on to any sort of control he could find in his life. If anyone were to understand the world view Mathieu’s head began to manifest, they would say he had lost himself, and maybe in a way he had. His childhood wonder and curiosity still persisted, except now, instead of driving him to learn about animals, the deep ocean, cultures and laws and everything foreign to himself, it became a restless search for whatever he needed to do to become the best version of himself, lest he give he paparazzi reason to drag his familial name through the mud. Perfect grades, perfect body, perfect self- that was his goal, no matter what the consequences. It took a drastic toll on his body and mental state, both of which have never been able to reach the level they were at before his gradual decline. Mathieu was well aware that his new view towards eating and his own body was unhealthy. Or rather, it would be unhealthy if it were anybody but himself. He needed it though, and every time he looked in the mirror or saw a photo of himself, it only reinforced that thought more and more.

His life came to a complete stop when he was fifteen. One second, he was arriving home after his usual morning jog, and the next thing he knew, he was waking up in the hospital with doctors surrounding him, using words like ‘malnourished’, ‘dehydrated’, and ‘anemic’. It wasn’t long before a few answers from his parents and an impromptu meeting with a psychologist that it was finally revealed the damage Mathieu had done to his body over the last two years. His parents immediately placed him in therapy, though not before word spread that one of the Smythe children had been hospitalized due to an “undisclosed medical need” and noting that the latest photos of him showed a rather obvious weight loss. There was little speculation that related back to the real reason, a fact that Mathieu found himself quietly thankful for. He did as he was told, hoping to maintain the family image and keep them happy, though with every pound he gained and every meal he finished, he hated himself more and more. By the time he was 17, he was up to a healthy weight for his size, though his attitude towards food and his workout routines were still cause for concern. Nevertheless, Mathieu did everything in his power to keep himself above the water. He graduated top of his class, and after a bit of deliberation about exactly what direction he wanted to go with his life, decided to attend Pacific State with a concentration in Psychology, hoping it would help him put the past behind him and ignore the constant thoughts that still plagued his mind. It also offered him a refuge away from the spotlight, and it was a safe haven that Mathieu’s younger self could have only imagined.

For the most part, being in college gave Mathieu a chance to rewrite his story. That was easier said than done, unfortunately. After receiving the final grades for his second semester sophomore year, Mathieu started to slip again. It isn’t to the point it was back when he was a teenager, when just walking up a flight of stairs, but his habits have definitely become less than ideal. Mathieu believes he has a wonderful control over it and that it won’t end up like before, and has refused to mention that he might be doing poorly again. Letting people find out about it before was what resulted, in his mind, in him starting to lose his control. This time, it’s not something he’s going to let go of so easily. He can control it, he know he can. Really, he has no choice in the matter.

BABY, THERE'S NO OTHER SUPERSTAR

Mathieu has spent the majority of his life finding the perfect combination of comfortable and stylish. Blues and greys are the main colors of his wardrobe, always keeping himself clean cut and dressed to impress, should he be leaving the comfort of his home. He likes to carry himself tall yet relaxed, hoping to give the impression that he is more sure of the world around him than he actually is. He has glasses, though he can often times be found opting for contacts instead. He has a tattoo on his left wrist, the symbol of the NEDA as a reminder to himself, though he puts quite a deal of effort into keeping it hidden either by long sleeves, a watch, coverup, or a combination of the three.

YOU KNOW THAT I'LL BE YOUR PAPARAZZI

Keaton is a crazy successful director, while Sariah is an equally successful actress.