palette in the moonlight | x-files teen au

viii. consenquences and ghostly smiles

After explaining to the nurse, in extreme detail, what exactly happened to Mulder and Dermott, Scully is sent to principal Tarren's office.

But it's Monday, and the whole office queue is kind of filled up already, so she sits down on the bench outside the door.

She sighs, thinking about what to say to Tarren to try and get Dermott in as much trouble as possible. She doesn't usually hold grudges, but he's an exception.

She throws her head back, face turned towards the hallway's ceiling light system. She closes her eyes, trying her best to focus on a single thing.

But her train of thought races to arrive to the station on schedule. It no longer flows smoothly, and she cannot think of only one thing at once, because time is running out and there's so much to think about.

She feels the bench shift slightly as somebody sits down on the other side. Her head turns slightly to the right, and she slowly opens her eyes to look at the person sitting next to her.

"Hey," she mumbles.

"Hey," it takes a few moments for Mulder to reply, staring blankly at the wall in front of them.

"Shouldn't you be at the infirmary?" Scully asks, turning her head back to face the brightness coming from the ceiling lights.

"They let me go to help you out with Tarren," he dully answers, "since I'm considered an accessory, now."

Scully raises an eyebrow.

"An accessory? What'd you do, encourage me to punch him by getting beaten up?" she mutters, a little angrier than before.

She considers jokingly saying, "Quite a way to hit someone's locker as they open it, there."

Mulder stays silent.

She decides against it.

And for once, Scully can't decide if it's a good or bad silence. If silence is a black and white spectrum. If good or bad are actually valid concepts and not simply based around the very limited human understanding of the universe.

Is there a parallel universe where the comfortable quietness of the school backyard makes Scully's stomach physically twist, and where the almost-silence of the school cafeteria directed at her makes her feel at peace? Maybe.

Is there a parallel universe where she didn't have to drag her limping, shaking lab partner to the infirmary after he was beaten up by her classmate? Probably.

She decides to stop thinking about parallel universes, at least for now, and continue thinking about this universe.

"Sorry," he mutters, still staring at the wall.

"For what?" she replies, putting away the "good or bad" inner discussion into a mental doggy-bag for later.

"For getting you in trouble." he replies.

She could yell at him, tell him that he doesn't need to apologise for what Dermott did, yell until he admits that he deserves to have someone to count on to help him when he can't do it himself.

Instead, she smiles.

"It doesn't matter. I would've done it anyway, sooner or later," she replies. "He's generally unpleasant, like that."

Mulder nods, turning his head towards her and smiling sheepishly.

"Does it still hurt?" she asks.

The blood stopped flowing from his nose, obviously, but he still finds it hard to keep both eyes open (which is noticeable, thanks to his constant squinting). His upper lip is split, and quite visibly, too. However, he doesn't look half as bad as he did when Dermott first beat him up.

"Not really," he shrugs, "Can't really smell anything, which I've been told is temporary, but is more of a blessing than a curse here."

She chuckles at his joke.

"Thank you. I - uhm - yeah, er, it wasn't necessary, and I'm so sorry that you had to get involved, but, uh, thank you." he quietly stutters, diverting his gaze away from her.

She chooses her words wisely, slowly.

Can she consider him a friend, and, more importantly, does he consider her a friend? They've barely known each other for a month. Finally, she decides that "lab partners" or "acquaintances" would be too distant.

"Hey," she starts, trying not to let him know that she doesn't really know what to say, "what're friends for?"

He blinks at the mention of the word friends, nods and looks at her again, smiling as wide as he could without putting too much pressure on his split lip.

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a/n: if you haven't realised yet i'm crying as i write this