Chapter Text
She picked up some Tylenol on her way to work. Scully could suffer through many aches and pains, but pounding headaches were a dreadful memory to be avoided, at all costs. She washed down two pills on her way from the kitchenette to the office, burning her tongue slightly on hot coffee. The pot was half empty, Mulder was already in.
"The victims were found by the lake, never in the same place twice."
He read from a case file spread over his side of the desk and she tried to follow, honestly tried to listen to what he was saying, but the pain seemed to take root behind her ears and all she could do was try to rub it out, as discretely as possible.
“Without an obvious cause of death, the coroner declared it to be exposure and,” he broke off mid-sentence and she looked up.
“Are you okay?” Mulder asked, concern written all over his face.
“Yeah, I’m fine, just a headache.” Faking a smile she sat up straight. “Go on, you were talking about exposure.”
Mulder smiled back and continued, “the coroner seemed to attend the same school as doctor...”
She didn't get to hear the name. A high pitched noise rose in her ears, swallowing his pun and then something popped and suddenly, silence. Her eyes grew wide as she watched him speak without any sounds coming from his mouth.
“Mulder?” She tested her voice and it came muffled, weird and deformed, as if she was speaking under water. His eyebrows went up and his lips moved again, nothing.
“Mulder?!” Panic creeped in.
Moving away from the desk, hands covering her ears, she worked her jaw, trying to balance the pressure. He was at her side in an instant, kneeling by the chair, hand on her cheek, questions in his eyes.
“I can’t hear you!” She said, frightened heart racing.
Mulder blanched and took her face in his hands; said something, then again, expression changing from fear to panic. She knew his face well enough to know he was shouting, but all she caught was a faint echo sounding like, “hospital.”
Nodding, Scully hauled herself up, but she wobbled, as her head swam. Mulder’s arm was around her in a heartbeat, face filled with the kind of fear she didn't see in a while.
“I’m fine” she felt herself say in a mindless reflex, a sentiment Mulder definitely did not share.
He patted his pockets for keys, and hand on the small of her back, if not completely around her, led her out of the office.
Stopping on a red light, he found a notepad in the glove compartment and handed it to her with a pen. Scully's surprise lasted less than a second, then she flipped it open and started jotting down symptoms, the ringing, the headaches, the pills she took that day. Everything that might help establish a cause, while trying to stay detached; sticking to facts without interpreting them. It was her only hope to keep calm.
In the driver's seat, Mulder kept his eyes on the road, risking only an occasional glance in her direction, griping the wheel like it was a life preserver. He drove like a madman, knowing the route to the nearest hospital all too well.
Their greatest fear hung unspoken between them.
Sitting in a waiting room, with Scully's coat in his lap and her gun concealed in the folds, felt all too familiar. Pale walls, plastic chairs, scent of fear and disinfectant. Needles and tests, forms and long waits. A nurse passed him pushing a wheelchair, in it, a frail looking woman in a robe and a scarf around her head.
Mulder prayed silently, face hidden in his hands. 'Please, please, not again.'
The time their days were numbered still haunted him and he never wanted to live through it again. In his minds' eye, he clearly saw Scully’s pale, sunken face, her fragile hands. Seeing her brave through the pain for his sake; watching her fade away while saying nothing, for her sake. They were masters of denial then; don’t ask, don’t tell, soldier on.
Did she keep new secrets from him lately, did he miss something? Was she suffering in silence again? Did the implant fail? How sure were they it would work forever?
What if they bought each other only a little more time and he wasted even that, coward that he was, and now she would never hear him say...
'No, don’t think that way,' he scolded himself just when the doors to the doctor's office opened. Scully came and he searched her face for a sign, some warning as to what to expect, and she must have noticed the fear because she smiled.
“The CT-scan came clean,” she said a little louder than usual, “it’s not a tumour.”
Mulder breathed out and with it, his whole body relaxed, sinking into the chair, making her chuckle, relieved as she was. “Come on, we just need to fill my prescription and we can go.”
He nodded, unable to keep the grin of his face.
Mulder drove her home.
Radio played in the background, but the signal kept breaking, so he fiddled with the dial each time they stopped on a red light. At the fourth try, Mulder finally found some clear enough rock station, doing the daily charts countdown. Scully didn't mind, looking out the window with a faint smile, thoroughly doped up.
Song after song, fingers drumming on the wheel, head bobbing to the rhythm, Mulder couldn't stop grinning. Beastie Boys' "Sabotage" invaded the car, like a police raid on a hot summer night. MTV played the clip over and over again and he loved the 70's crime tv show vibe so the song grew on him as well. Expecting no protests from the passenger seat, he cranked the volume up, but Scully's head sprang up the moment he did.
"Mulder, do you know why you're not supposed to eat after anaesthetic injections, when you go to the dentist?" She asked, a trace of warning in her voice, raised tad above the radio.
He nodded, amused; the question rhetoric. She knew he always took the shot and the dentist told him every time, to wait until he regained feeling in his mouth, otherwise he could bite off his tongue or do something equally awkward.
"You want me to go deaf permanently?"
The chagrin was instant, he turned the volume back down, mouthing an apology. He was such a punk sometimes.
"You're such a kid sometimes." She said, shaking her head, smiling slightly.
Parking in front of her place, Mulder turned the engine off and made with his fingers, mimicking walking and pointing to her windows.
"I'm fine, you don't have to walk me to the door."
He shrugged and retrieved the meds from the back seat. Scully took the package and he held up eight fingers for her to see. They decided she shouldn't drive for the time being, unused to deafness as she was.
"8:30," she haggled.
Mulder folded his hands under one cheek and pretended to be startled awake, eyes wide, looking around comically. She laughed.
"Don't worry, I won't oversleep."
He showed her eight fingers again, then one, then five. 8:15 am.
"Fine," she sighed and bid him a good night.
He waited five more minutes after the lights in her apartment turned on, then drove home. Radio stayed off.
As far as wakeup's go, phone in the morning was one of the more brutal ways to start the day. Mulder almost fell off the couch, trying to reach the receiver to fast, and was only half conscious when he hit talk, rubbing his brain to life through his eyes.
"Mulder," he mumbled and the female voice on the other side was a genuine surprise.
"Fox, this is Maggie Scully, I'm sorry to call you this early."
"Hi, mrs Scully," he relaxed and sat up, "it's fine, what can I do for you?"
"Is everything alright with Dana? I was trying to call her, but she won't answer her phone." Maggie's concern registered as she tried to explain herself, worry steadily growing into panic. "She was supposed to meet me yesterday, and this must sound stupid, but I had a dream last night. I kept calling her name but she wouldn't react, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something happened."
He sighed and plopped back down on the couch; double embarrassment, double the fun. "No, mrs Scully, she's okay, well, mostly, she just couldn't hear the phone."
"What do you mean?"
"Please, don't be angry with her, we should have called you immediately."
"Please, Fox, just tell me what happened."
"The doctor called it sudden hearing loss," he said and Maggie gasped, so he rushed to calm her. "She's on medication, and given that we caught it fast, should be back to normal in no time."
"Is it?" Mulder knew the meaning behind the pause.
"No, it's not cancer, just a nasty ear infection. Apart from being deaf as a log and some minor headaches, Scully's fine." Relieved sigh carried over the phone from the other side of town. "It all happened so fast, we had the same fears, so you probably imagine our relief. She most likely forgot, please, don't hold it against her."
"No, of course not. Is she home?"
"She refused the leave, as usual."
"Don't let her work too hard then, and tell her I'll stop by tonight."
"I will."
They said their goodbye's and Mulder got up for his morning run.
Mulder chuckled under his breath, after knocking by pure reflex, and fished for the key in his pocket, to let himself in.
Silence in the apartment made him smile wider. The door to the bedroom stood slightly open and he saw her, fast asleep, breathing evenly through slightly parted lips. He crouched by the bed and brushed away a strand of hair from her cheek, smile fading slightly, she was burning up.
Scully jumped, startled and dazed, batting away his hand in a self-defence reflex, looking around frantically, as if she didn't know where she was for a second. Mulder pressed a gentle hand to her chest, a quiet reassurance, and when her eyes finally focused on him, she sagged back on the pillows, relieved.
"It's okay, it's just me," he crooned, smoothing the tangled mess away again. She groaned and feeling his hand, grabbed him by the wrist and pushed his cold fingers against the aching spot behind one ear. Kneeling on the floor, Mulder cradled her head in his arms, a kiss to her temple for lack of soothing words.
"I should have taken the day off," she moaned.
Hand like a cool compress, stroking gently, he held her for a long moment or three, wondering where she put the pills.
"The meds are in the kitchen," she said softly, "could you?"
Mulder made her eat the bagel he brought for breakfast, before she could take any pills, sitting on the edge of the bed, sipping coffee for company. Slightly flushed with fever, she leaned on pillows, waiting for the medication to kick in.
"You can't imagine how weird this feels," she sighed, stifling a yawn, "I kept waking up all night, convinced I heard someone in the house, then that the phone rang."
Mulder's eyebrows shot up and he looked around for something to write on, found nothing at hand. His always prepared Scully was slipping, so he had to do it the hard way.
He poked his index finger at her, then at the first thing that came to mind when he thought about Maggie, Scully's necklace. She watched him curiously when he put his palm to his ear, thumb and pinky finger outstretched.
"What?" She had to stifle a giggle when he jiggled the hand/phone, "you want me to call someone?"
Mulder threw his head back, exasperated, and poked the necklace again.
"You want me to call God?" She laughed outright this time, "I will go to mass on Sunday, if it makes you feel better."
He chuckled, so much for their wordless communication. Pointing at the cross again, he made an offering motion with his hands; he sucked at charades.
"You want to give me my cross?" She hedged, and Mulder nodded frantically, then held up one finger for attention.
"Not exactly," Scully translated, expecting more clues. He nodded, pointed at himself, then shook his finger at her.
"Not you." She guessed. Smiling, he tapped the cross again, took her hand and mimed placing the necklace there, then folded her fingers around it.
"Someone who gave me the necklace."
He risked concussion nodding his head.
Scully's eyes went wide and she covered her mouth with one hand, "My mom, I was supposed to meet my mom yesterday."
"YES!" Mulder exclaimed, trowing his hands in the air in triumph. She called after him when he got up to leave, but he held up one finger, asking for a minute and came back with a notepad she kept on the fridge, scribbling frantically.
Your mom called me, she got worried, I explained what happened, she'll stop by later.
"Oh no," Scully groaned, hiding face in her hands. "I am such a bad daughter."
He tapped her hands with the notepad. You're not!
"I was supposed to take her car to the mechanic."
He took the pen and added. Let me do it.
"Mulder, no, you don't have to." He smiled and shrugged dismissively, it was no problem at all. "Thank you."
He got up and straightened the covers, then passed her the still warm coffee, waiting on the night stand.
"You're going?" she asked and her tone made his heart grow 3 sizes. Taking the notebook he wrote:
I'll call your mom, find out about the car, maybe bring her here later. We can play more charades when I get back.
That made her laugh. "What about work?"
She passed him the notepad and he showed her his reply.
SICK DAY.
He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. Scully squeezed his hand.