Title: My December. Author:TRUTHWEBOTHKNOW dragonrider1@ntlworld.com Rating:PG version. Category: MT MSR M/S/SK friendship Angst-o-rama & Christmas fic Disclaimer: Season of goodwill and all that. I'm just borrowing them from CC and Fox who own them. Il send them home full of eggnog, a bag of prezzies and full tummies. No profit Bah humbug. ;)))) Summery: Sometime after 2am, Scully succumbed to her exhaustion, watched over by the concerned brown eyes of Walter Skinner as he sat vigil beside his two agents. Holding the hand of one as she slept, tucked up beside Mulder on the bed, and gently bathing the fever from the other's face, with cool water. They looked like a couple of kids, instead of two FBI agents. He glanced at his watch and pulled his lips into a tight sad smile, as he went back to the task of bathing his injured agent. Merry Christmas, Fox and Dana. My December lyrics by LINKIN PARK beta By Vickie Moseley and Susan Proto, warm fuzzy Christmas greetings and thanks girls. The chocolate cyber Mulders are in the post!! Special engagement for IMTP VS10, Holiday special Distribution: Exclusive for two weeks at IMTP VS 10 then anywhere at all. (My Evil muse NC17 also available later) Feedback or snowballs to above email. My December This is my December, This is my snow covered home...... These are my snow-covered trees. "How is he doing, Scully?" "I need to keep him warm. He's like an ice block.... Sir. Blankets"her voice was kinder this time, her eyes never leaving her patient. Her fingers were making short work of the hapless agent's sopping clothes. Galvanized into action, Skinner rifled the closets for blankets or sheets, vaguely aware that he might have bumped his own head. He wasn't usually this slow on the uptake. From rolling the car onto its roof and sliding down the bank, to locating Mulder and kicking in the door here, everything had happened so fast. All thoughts of any injuries they might have had on this god-forsaken night paled when they realized that Mulder, like Elvis had left the building, well in this case the wreck of their car. The sight of the fresh air windshield, the blood splatters on the dash, had them out of the car like rats deserting a sinking ship, scouring the deep woods below the bank. And then they found him. Skinner was standing and straitening his own back while he watched her moving the stethoscope against Mulder's chest again, listening intently. The younger man still heaved for breath, bound arms so still now after so much struggling, his eyes looking lovingly at Scully. The AD winced, his wrists looked chaffed and raw, a testament to how powerful and desperate his pain had made him. Several hours alter, it was over. The worst of it anyway. "How is he?" "Hanging in there. Just so glad we got it all out of him. Just taking 5 sir, before..." Skinner gave her a wan smile watching the shadows from the fire and candle light dance over her face. They both felt good Mulder was calm again but he balked at the thought that the poor guy still needed stitching up and any rest he was having was going to be short-lived, until Scully finished. Hell, they all needed a break before the inevitable second stage of purgatory began again. He wasn't sure he could take much more , let alone the nightmare Mulder was going through. A lesser man would have crumbled but Mulder had held himself admirably, facing down all the trauma, only haring out completely when his considerable pain threshold finally disintegrated. He had to admit he had a new found respect , seeing such fortitude in his agent , but at the same time , it left him feeling that Mulder was spookier than ever. All his own years in the hell of Vietnam, he'd never see any one so strong in the face of pain, Mulder had more courage than he previously given him credit for and that had always been considerable. "Erratic heart beat still but that's to be expected. His lungs are okay but a little wet sounding. I need to sort out his leg and bind his ribs. He should feel much more comfortable then, until we can get him to a hospital."Her free handing continuously stroking Mulder's hair while she took his vitals. "There's a lot of damage to flesh and some broken ribs. Nothing major compromised, thank god, but infection and pneumonia is something we have to be vigilant about. I'm going to need some more pillows or blankets to pro him up with. I have to watch him closely." "I can watch him if you want to sleep tonight. You're hurt yourself, Dana and your dead on your feet. I can always..." "No, she cut him off, eyes flashing protectively in Mulder's direction. " With due respect, Walter, he needs my trained medical eye, if he deteriorates in the night with shock or infection then its best I spot it as quickly as I can. I'll crash later but right now..."her eyes fell lovingly on her patient's sleepy face. "I'm not going to be able to sleep with him like this anyway. I could use a coffee though. Please tell me you found some something out there." Her eyes glittered hopefully despite her tired pale face. "I found something, if you can call it coffee. There's some tinned food, some of it well...odd. But I'll see if I can come up with something. Necessity is the mother of invention. I thought I saw some camping equipment in one of the kitchen closets. Might be able to boil up some water on a stove or something. Failing that, the fireplace has a hook where I can hang the kettle. I should have done it before but there was too much going on with Mulder. I'm going to get that started and then get some air" "I'll love you forever if you bring me coffee sir, ...I mean, Walter. I'm going to need warm water to bathe him with ..and some ice or something for his head...and mine." "Hey , she's spoken for..." Mulder's voice, strained and wheezy from screaming, startled them both. He'd appeared to be asleep. Both Skinner and Scully stifled a laugh, Scully gently ruffling Mulder's hair. "Better believe it Mister, she whispered to only to him and smiled at his sleepy eyes, before turning to her boss "Take a break, Walter, I think you've earned it. Beyond the call of duty and all that, Mulder and I will okay alone for a few minutes." "I'll be back shortly with the water....er I was going to hike back to the car,, see If I could salvage anything else useful or try and flag down someone who can get us help or back to civilization. The storms worse though. Il go first light, it will be easier and safer. Don't expect anyone will be fool enough to be driving out tonight, but in the morning I might find other cabins with phones or power. I suspect now a search will have got underway, but hell its Christmas, and they'll be less manpower looking. I think most people will be at home with their families."Scully nodded, a sad wistful expression on her face. At least Mulder was alive, probably the best present she could have hoped for under the circumstances. They had each other. "I'm just grateful; for this cabin, if this hadn't been so close by...?" Skinner nodded, sucking in a tired breath. " I think this was a our Christmas gift, Scully. A place of shelter and safety, even if it is lacking in more modern conveniences. " "A true miracle sir, our lives and this place. Just here when we needed it the most. The fire and the candles, its not home, but it is Christmassy. Really pretty, Walter. Thank you. If Mulder wasn't...if he ...hadn't..." Several lumps got caught in her throat and Scully prayed she wouldn't embarrass herself. The days events were catching up with her , adrenalin fading fast and all the unshed tears threatened to run down her face like an avalanche of fear , relief and stress of the close call they had all just come through. Mulder wasn't out of the woods yet and that terrified her more than anything. She sent up a silent prayer of thanks for her strength that had seen her through these last desperate hours, for Mulder to be out of pain and her faith that they could all be at home very soon with their families, choking back the silent sob that formed over her heart with the unbidden image of her mother's worried face that her only surviving daughter and partner again were missing when they should have been celebrating the joy of Christmas, instead ruining the occasion with worry and dread for that knock on the door. "...This would have been perfect" she barely whispered. "Il get that coffee. Holler if you need me, Dana." Scully sniffed, and forced a smile. "..Yeah." Skinner locked eyes with her for a second or two longer that he intended. Wanting to tell her that she and Mulder felt like the only family he'd had in a while now. His jaw muscle twitched under the urge to impart that to her, but part of him thought better of it. He left them to their privacy. Scully rechecked his dressing and the open wound underneath, then scooted up the bed, taking care not to jolt him. Mulder felt her hair tickle his face. One warm arm slid ever so carefully around and under his back so his head rested against her shoulder while her other hand worked at the knots binding his wrists. He leaned into her as she undid them one at a time, releasing them with great tenderness, pressing warm lips to the poor tortured skin on each with barest pressure in a gesture that shouted, "I'm sorry." Pain still held him in a vice like grip but it seems less now. He was sweat drenched and frightened, his chest tight and throbbing but the depth of love in Scully eyes as she looked at him, made up for all that. "Hey, G -man, you with me, you okay?" Lips against his forehead, warm breath and a feeling of her pushing his hair back. "Your poor head, we'll get some ice on that. " "Yeah." A faint smile on the corner of his lips. A pale shadow of his usual goofy morning grin. "I'm so sorry, baby. I'm sorry I had to put you through that. " Any more stroking and he'd purr like a cat, despite the agony. "S'alright, Scully. Had to be done. .... Was I a complete asshole?" "You don't remember any of that, do you?" "Thankfully not much, although...Scully, did I puke on Skinner? Please tell me I didn't...It's vague. I..." "I think you owe him a new pair of loafers and suit pants. Don't worry; I guess he'll think of a good penance. " She couldn't quite hide the amusement in her voice as her lips brushed his temple again. "And you asked me to shoot you once or twice." Mulder closed his eyes in a painful grimace, knowing he'd put her through hell. Again. When was she going to get a break with him? When he looked in her eyes again, he could see the unshed tears that refused to fall and felt like seven kinds of heel. "...And you're hurt ,Scully. Are you okay? " His fingers shakily reached out for hers, they met, joined and entwined. "I'm fine Mulder." Her eyes softened as at the crease of worry on his face, she kissed his shoulder and put her forehead to his. "Really. I'm tired, but I'm okay. You came off worse than all of us put together...." Mulder's heartbeat began to thump unhappily at something in her hesitation to go on. She was playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. Nervous breathe in his ear. Suddenly he felt his brain catch up. NO. "You're not finished? .... Scully....." "No, No I'm not , sweetheart. Here's the deal...." She felt a tightening in her stomach as she watched the fresh anxiety pass like dull clouds over his eyes. Her arms tightened as if trying to soften the blow he knew was coming. He wanted nothing more at his point to disappear into her skin and never venture out again, heart pounding so fast , it made him lightheaded and sick. Despite the warmth of her body so close to him, ice ran riot in his veins. "Mulder, honey, I'm sorry. I know you're hurting, but I'm going need to bathe you and clean you up a little, then I need to do a bit of needlecraft on that wound. Walter should be back with warm water shortly then I can start. Just rest up a little , I'm so sorry, we all needed to catch our breath. God this is so hard..." Mulder felt the first warm tears fall on his bare shoulder. She startled when she found his fingers worrying her cheeks, trying to catch them before they fell. Several more streamed down her face at the unconditional forgiveness in his eyes., the tiny smile of affection that meant more to her than anything right now. She was going to have to cause him pain again, and he was giving her permission in that gentle beautiful face. She couldn't have loved him more at that moment. "You untied my arms, I...I " "I can't see...that again, Mulder. See you like that...I know...I know you shouldn't be unconscious, god knows this goes against all I was trained for, all of this...But I... since you were passing in and out while I was removing the wire, I guess... it's a moot point. If you feel you can't...then you can let go. Do what you need to get through this, even if it means you pass out." She couldn't finish. His fingers stroked hers, brought them slowly to his lips and kissed them. "Shhh , its okay. Il be fine. Just hope your needlework's better than your cooking. "He caught her eyes with a hint of a smile. He felt exhausted, nauseous and not ready face this again, he shuddered at the thought of more pain, but he could see what this was doing to her. She sniffed back her tears and wiped her eyes. "I'll remember that while I'm tiptoeing across your pectorals. Besides, you said you liked my cooking." Fever filled eyes beamed at her, then closed. He wasn't going to stay the course. Not this time. She squeezed his hand. "I'll be as quick as I can and very, very gentle okay?" he nodded almost imperceptibly into the warm haven of her shoulder. If they got out of this, he'd make Christmas up to her and make it one to remember. "Love you Scully."He was crying in earnest now. "Love you too, so much...I'm sorry. Make it up to you soon G-man."She kissed both eyes and rubbed his cheek. He nodded, eyes closed, mentally calling on all his strength to stop himself flying apart. Walter soon returned with ice and warm water. Mulder finally let oblivion take him just as his tortured brain cells registered the smell of coffee. He never even stirred by the time Scully put the first needle through his devastated flesh and lay deathly pale and still, 200 or so inner and outer stitches later. They couldn't wake him. They didn't have the heart, to try. They let him be and felt some kind of comfort at least that he wasn't awake for this. The rattle increasing in his lungs was frightening confirmation that he had contracted pneumonia, his struggles for breath and fever burning brightly hours later, turning his skin to a furnace. Her fear for his life increased ten fold. Scully cried again as she worked while Skinner kept her supplied with coffee and much needed moral support. A joke when things got too hard to see what she was doing in front of her, to bring her back, a comforting warm hand to let her know that she wasn't in this alone. In the space of a tragic few short hours her boss had been replaced but a welcome but unexpected friend. She thanked god again for the 100th time that night. Somehow Scully held herself up long enough to bathe Mulder, stitch and strap up both ribs and ankle. Mulder stirred in fever dreams, soft flickers from the fire giving him a child like, peaceful look, so different from one convulsed in such pain earlier. And sometime after 2am, Scully succumbed to her exhaustion, watched over by the concerned brown eyes of Walter Skinner as he sat vigil beside his two agents. Holding the hand of one as she slept, tucked up beside Mulder on the bed, and gently bathing the fever from the other's face, with cool water. They looked like a couple of kids, instead of two FBI agents. He glanced at his watch and pulled his lips into a tight sad smile, as he went back to the task of bathing his injured agent. Merry Christmas, Fox and Dana. Eventually the cabin in the mountains fell as silent as the snow falling outside, except for the crack popping of the waning fire and the occasional murmurs of pain from Mulder as he fought demons in his troubled sleep. None of them saw the door slowly open, the multi-colored lights that bounced off the cabin windows and the light flurries of blizzard flakes swirling through to the living room and around the night visitor as he made his entrance from the wintry night, patting the snow from clothes and beard, the thud of his boots as he stamped off the snow. Oh My, he chuckled to himself gruffly, peeping round the door to the bedroom. Eyes twinkling like candle flickers. The old man sucked on his beloved pipe , savoring the rich aroma as he took in his unexpected guests. A bald man with glasses, kind of authoritarian, looking, stocky. A petite red headed beauty, who on closer inspection had her arm possessively around the waist of the younger, dark haired man in the bed covered only by blankets. He looked like a boy , eyes closed tight against unknown pain, dark lashes forming crescent smudges under his eyes. Tsk tsk tsk, the sound almost silent, muffled by his substantial beard. Oh dear. As he got closer still, he peered right down into his face, noting the sweat soaked hair, feeling heat, distress, watching intently as soft moans spilled from his lips. The sweat that poured down his face and gave his chest a glowing sheen in the dying candlelight, spoke of acute sickness. His chest rose and fell in erratic, painful looking spasms and he could see his pulse jumping in his pale neck like it wanted to escape. There was something in the air tonight beside the smell of candle wax, the ever- pleasing aroma of burning logs. He sniffed the air, Blood tainted through all the other smells and his eyes fell back to the young man, sorrow in his gaze. Then his eyes fell on the dressings and various blood stained blankets at his feet and around the bed. The man's huge girth swelled with empathy. Poor handsome Laddie, you've had a rough night haven't you. He slowly put a finger out to touch him, and then withdrew as if burned. He was close enough to hear the frantic beat of his heart. Pursing his lips, he closed his eyes for a second, listening to the sounds of life now filling the cabin, this room, before shaking his head. Slowly and silently he closed the door leaving them all to their sleep. It had been a long night. An old man sat by the fire in his favorite chair, smoking a pipe and rocking gently while the blizzard outside raged against the Blue Mountains, thinking it was good to be home. But he was deeply troubled; his thoughts returning time after time to the sick man who burned in fitful sleep in his bed tonight. So long since anyone had come to call, so long since anyone had really needed him. Not his family, he had trouble picturing them now. Not The Great Malls of America, too old they'd said, too eccentric. Too generous and not enough profit. They'd let him go with a kindly but insincere handshake, after all those years of faithful service. It was his joy to give, much better than receiving and he was so lonely. This was the worse time of year to be alone, even for him. He'd come home to lick his wounds. He missed the children, their laughter, their joy & honesty, their ability to see magic in every living thing, uncomplicated by the doubts and skepticism that the passage of time brought to their hearts too soon. They'd made him soar and gave him a chance to fly. He was old, old and obsolete like many of his predecessors before him. The children believed in him once too, that made him picture the face of the young man, the face of a believer, of magical things. The others and the tell tale signs of exhaustion and struggle etched in their faces, the real powerful magic that was the love that bound the trio together, that made them fight for his life. To give their all for the one who had fallen. The old man scratched his craggy white beard. That young man in his room needed him. It hit him like the light from the brightest star in the galaxy. He had so few gifts left before.... But this, this he could give, some how he just knew that this was right. For the first time in many years he let the warmth from the fire seep into his tired old bones as he rose from his favorite old chair, his only friend for a long time. With renewed purpose he moved silently back to the bedroom, the lines and crinkles of too many unkind years melting from his face like snow flakes, his eyes shone and cheeks glowed beneath his mane of white beard for the first time in as long as he could remember. No worthier souls than these. Something cool and wet eased across the fire of his forehead, rousing him finally from his fevered dreams. He opened his eyes, expecting to find Scully's loving hands bathing him with ice water but the ones he was seeing were rough and calloused. He and delirium were old buddies and deep down he knew he had to be it its grip, but never before had he woken like this to find Scully at least 300 pounds overweight and sporting a craggy white beard and nose hair. His mouth opened in hazy wonder and somewhere along the way he thought he'd pass out again. He squinted in the flickering flame light, a grin slowly spreading until it blew up a riot in his eyes. "Aren't you Kenny Rodgers?" Mulder's midnight Samaritan grinned wickedly and put a finger to his lips. "Shhhhhhhh ..." . "Who are you?" Kenny, or whoever he was, now seemed to be bathed in his own multi colored light source that spread to envelop Mulder with tiny warm pinpricks all over his body that seemed to reach right inside him, easing the pain, the fire of infection, the thunder in his head. "Do you believe, son.? I feel it strong inside you. Don't ever let that go." "I...I...want to..." he was too hypnotized by the sights and sensations that held him in a some kind of suspension and were physically healing him from the inside out, to form any kind of coherent sentence. It was the most amazing feeling he could ever remember. Like love, like pure energy, so intense he wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. He nodded finally; feeling dizzy as this light entity surrounded and engulfed him, bathed him in some kind of microcosm of pure peace and contentment. The last thing that registered before his heavy eyelids closed was a soothing voice full of joyful laughter. "Believe..." "...When you were seven, Fox Mulder... that was an imposter...I'm the real deal." "What...?" SNICK "Get way from him, NOW" Scully pointed her Sig at the beefy old guy hovering over Mulder's body. Wide eyed and voice shaky from disturbed sleep and fright, she became the epitome of a professional FBI agent. Skinner by her side in an instant, following suit with his own sig. The old guy smiled, a gentle smile on his face a thousand years old. The bubble that held Mulder grew outwards to envelope them both and the last thing they remembered was the soft laughter and sound of snow falling against the window. A far away voice echoed all around them. "Merry Christmas. It's a time for miracles...choose your dearest wish. It's magic if you believe..." Mulder rolled over, feeling another warm body, he leaned into it, stretching and spooning with a contented sigh. Strawberry shampoo reached into his lungs as he buried his nose in her hair and breathed her in. A smile crept over his face as he snuggled to enjoy the contact with her skin and slid an arm over her waist. She stirred just a little leaning back into him and making that little noise that drove him crazy. Mulder's tongue made tentative little swirls over her earlobe, delighted when she shuddered. So content, he could stay here all day just basking in this love so new and largely unexplored. Tap tap tap There its was again. He wasn't imagining it. One eye opened lazily at the shy knock on the door. It opened just a crack to reveal the delightedly grinning countenance of Margaret Scully. She was bouncing in the doorway like an overly excited Doberman, Bill's baby son, Matthew bouncing along with her on her arm, wearing a funny little Santa hat with a glowing bobble on top, Charlie's four year old daughter Lauren, hiding halfway behind her legs hugging what looked like an new dolly. Scully, now wide awake, emerged from the warm cocoon, otherwise known as Mulder and peered, nonchalantly over the covers, pulled up tight to hide both their present nakedness. She practiced, grinning like the good catholic daughter she was, despite their current dubious positions, not that her mother noticed one iota in her current state of Christmassy exuberance. Mulder got a sudden urge to poke his head down the blanket and study his chest. He noticed Scully looking too. A few seconds later he shrugged. Scully glanced at him, faint smile on her lips. She could almost hear Mulder's considerable brain going through its machinations, trying to equate this scenario coupled with fragments of screeching tires, copious blood, Mulderscreams and a laughing old man . It tickled the parts of their consciousness that they couldn't quite fathom, no matter how they tried to work it out. "Dana, Fox, Merry Christmas. Darlings what a wonderful surprise. I never heard you come in. I'm so pleased you decided to come early. Come on , we're just about to open the presents." She bounced a bit more. If that was possible "So sneaky of you. Not that I mind of course. Just so happy you decide to share your first Christmas with us all as a family. I've warned Bill, that under pain of death he will have to behave. I've even invited that lovely boss of yours, Mr. Skinner. Can't have that lovely man lonely at Christmas can we? Hope you don't mind. Ooh, this is going to be as the best Christmas ever." The door snicked shut and soon the sound of Christmas carols wafted up from downstairs along with various pleasing smells of Christmas dinner, "Aw, Scully". Blue eyes met hazel in joint utter stupefaction.. Mulder was grinning, not uncharacteristically like an idiot. Scully shook her head, her smile lightening his heart. She looked as confused as he was. He shrugged, the movement baring his deliciously inviting chest. She couldn't pull her eyes away. "Do you believe, Scully?" Scully's finger found itself trailing to a point on his left chest, expecting to find...something. When she looked up all she saw was the love he'd carried their in his hazel depths for more years than she could remember. Her constant. Her touchstone. How she loved him. He leaned down and kissed her. "What happened Mulder?" That was his Scully, logical as ever. The bottom lip came out in an bemused pout. "I..." "Ummm?" "Dunno, Scully. Guess it's a kind magic...if you believe." His hazel eyes twinkled with an unknown knowledge. "Do you?" "I.. believe in love and that you will be there for me no matter what." He kissed her tenderly. "Merry Christmas, baby," He broke away breathless. Watching her fingers as they settled over his heart, stroking. "Something.... Happened...I" "Let's just believe, go join the others. It's our first Christmas. C'mon. The thought of your, mom's Christmas dinner is getting me hungry." "Okay, ...okay. Merry Christmas, Mulder. I love you." "Love you, Scully. I'll make you believe that later...after Billy's gone home." "Gonna hold you to that, G -man." Mulder looked out the window of Margaret Scully's back garden. The day had been perfect as any he could have imagined. It was about love, family; acceptance and being together, even Billy had called a truce. Another man slid into the refection behind him, watching the tree lights flick on and off. "Mulder?" "Yes sir?" "Why do I get the feeling..." "I know...I know sir, its something. I..." He looked at the stars and saw them move all of a sudden as if they were dancing just for him. "Sir...Walter...?" Scully walked out to join them at the back door, her arms sliding around both their waists. She planted a kiss on both their cheeks. "Yeah, Mulder?" "Nothing I'm just ...well ...feels like we have been given a wonderful gift. I,er... can't explain." "Know what I think, Mulder? " "It's a kind of magic." They all said in unison. "If you believe..."Mulder voiced drifted into the night. The old man took a bow. His last gift gratefully received. The End.