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There was something wrong. Something horribly, horribly wrong. Scully walked behind Mulder, watching his shoulders tense as his stride quickened, his footsteps echoing infinitely through the dank tunnel system they’d found themselves in for this particular assignment.
It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, a suspected serial killer who killed in impossible situations. It wasn’t the first time they’d seen something like this, but of course it piqued Mulder’s interest immediately. There was something he was missing, he said, about the area, about the killings, something supernatural. Of course, Scully scoffed, but she would never dampen his investigations on purpose, so she’d followed him as usual into the middle of nowhere.
All had been fine. And then Mulder had led them to this goddamn tunnel system underneath the city looking for the culprit, for anything to push them in the right direction. Then, Mulder had taken off after something that had loomed in the darkness, and Scully had lost him. Mulder had reappeared eventually, having lost whatever he was chasing in the tunnels, but, as she stared at Mulder’s body, his face obscured by the dim orange lights that hung off the tunnel walls, Scully couldn’t help but think that something was wrong.
She tried to rationalise it. Logically, she couldn’t see anything wrong. He was scatterbrained but brilliant, cheeky and funny and everything Mulder. But there was something Scully was missing, she knew it.
Maybe she was overthinking it. But the suspicion had set in deep. Things had happened like this, with something or something pretending to be Mulder. Scully wondered why it always managed to work, maybe it was her unwavering faith in him.
She only realised she’d stopped walking when he turned round to look at her. “You okay?“ he asked, in Mulder’s tone.
Scully nodded. “Sorry, thought I heard something.”
“These tunnels sure are echoey.” He replied, his hand hovering over his gun before returning back to the pocket of his trench coat. “And splashy. These are new shoes as well.”
“It’s your own fault for wearing them on an assignment.” Scully replied, falling back into the banter was as easy as breathing.
Mulder grunted but didn’t reply. They kept walking. It was the small things, Scully realised. His gait was slight different. He favoured his left leg instead of his right, limping almost imperceptibly. He was unnaturally tense given the situation. The realisation dawned on Scully with a deep sickening feeling. This thing in front of her was not Mulder- not her Mulder. Her Mulder was out in the vast labyrinth. Alone.
They were approaching a split, with two tunnels separating into the distance. Scully undid the safety and cocked her gun, aiming right at Mulder’s head. He stopped in his tracks, clenching his fists by his side.
“Put your hands in the air.”
“Scully what the hell are you-?”
“Do it!” She shouted, her hands dangerously still.
Slowly, he did as she said. “Scully what do you think you’re doing? Put the damn gun down!”
“Who are you and what have you done with Mulder?”
“I am Mulder.” He grit out, “what’s gotten into you?”
Scully clenched her teeth. Now was not the time for regrets. “I know you’re not him.” She said, gripping her gun tighter. “When we’re alone, he calls me by my first name. Dana.”
A pregnant pause followed, then a heavy sigh from the man in front of her. He turned around. A toothy grin hung on his face, too many teeth for a human. The smile stretched unnaturally wide, disfiguring Mulder’s handsome visage. “You two are that close huh?”
“I lied.” And she shot five rounds straight into the thing's face. It convulsed and writhed, its limbs stretching to inhuman levels. Scully shot until she was out of bullets, then loaded another clip into the gun.
The thing is pale white, with no hair whatsoever. Its skin is stretched over a thin frame, with a plasticky sheen glinting. Its eyes are pitch black, and Scully’s breath catches in her throat. How could this thing ever look like Mulder? Its face is still stretched into that horrific smile, and for the first time, a cold bead of fear crawls down Scully’s spine. Mulder knows how to deal with these things, he’s the expert, not her.
She doesn’t even let a minute detail of fear change her hard stare. She’s poised and ready to kill, or run. “What did you do with him?” She demands.
Before she can get an answer, its arm whizzes past her, elongating rapidly, its sharp claws catching her side as she throws herself to the ground. The cut isn’t deep, but it hurts like a bitch and is soaked in the water they’ve been trudging in, likely to get infected. Scully quickly stands and shoots another bullet through the thing, despite the bullet holes in its body it shows no other signs of slowing.
Its arm has retracted back to its side, and Scully finds its perpetual grin more infuriating than scary. It catches her off guard, grabbing her foot and dragging her writhing form towards it. She blows another round into its face, but with the same results as before. It dragged her closer and closer until she was laying prone in front of it.
Scully stares into the face of death and struggles, she will struggle always, grasping for any slivers of light she can reach. The thing pushes it’s claw into the juncture of her neck, then traces a line to her pulse point that’s beating rapidly just below her jaw. Teasing her, edging her by displaying how it can kill her, how it will kill her. Scully grips at it, trying to pull it away, but it’s like trying to move a lamp post. As it presses painfully into her throat, not quite piercing the skin, Scully wishes for a second that it would change into Mulder again. Just for her last breaths, it’s cold comfort, but comfort nonetheless.
“What do you think you’re doing to my partner?” A familiar voice calls out from behind them, punching a bullet through the monster's skull, landing just inches from the top of Scully’s head. It shrieks and stands, and Mulder- her Mulder, in all his bloody, shabby, dirt covered, soaked glory- raises an axe and slices it straight through the things neck, severing it’s head. It falls, and doesn’t move again.
Mulder quickly runs to her side, pressing a handkerchief into the wound on her shoulder and lifting her so she’s laying against his chest. He’s warm and smells awful, but Scully has never been happier to see him. “What the hell was that thing?”
“Shapeshifter,” He replied, too quickly. Scully frowned. “You doing okay?”
Mentally she assesses herself. It’s just a hole through the body, it’ll hurt for ages but realistically she’s not at any risk of dying, nor immediately anyway. But Scully would rather get out of these tunnels sooner rather than later. “I’ll be fine. Are you okay? I lost you for a sec, he- it looked like you…”
She glanced over his face, looking for any signs of pain. Mulder gazes at her softly. “I’m fine, promise. It knocked me out, but these tunnels all connect into one another so I was bound to find you eventually.” He pauses, grimacing. “I’m lucky to have found you when I did.”
Scully grins, “And I’m forever grateful. I’ll be even more so if you can get us out of here.”
Later, when they’re in Mulder’s motel room recovering- Scully’s wounds stitched up and bandaged, Mulder will ask: “I wonder why people keep impersonating me to get to you?”
“Because they probably know I trust you 100%.” Scully replies without hesitation, casually flicking through a case file.
She doesn’t notice the look of surprise on Mulder’s face. “You do?”
“Of course.” She replies, as if he’s just asked her if the sky is blue or if he’s crazy. “You’re the only one I trust 100%.”
Scully doesn’t look at him, too caught up in the file in front of her, so she doesn’t notice the fond look etched into his features. He knows he loves her, he’s known for a while now. Mulder can’t remember when they became Mulder-and-Scully, it was such a natural transition, but he knows that their partnership is more than just that. It’s a bond between them, unbreakable, holding them together through everything. He knows he will never just be Spooky Mulder again, he will be Mulder-and-Scully until the day he dies. Loved wholly and innocently, because of his quirks not in spite of them.
“I trust you 100% too, by the way.” He mentions, trying to be off handed but he knows that Scully’s noticed the way his voice tenses. She doesn’t reply, but she smiles wide and that’s all the answer he needs. Mulder knows she understands what he meant.
Saying “I love you” is overrated anyway.