palette in the moonlight | x-files teen au

xii. stop

As expected, the rest of the week goes by too fast.

Well, the week as a whole. The separate school days seemed as though they'll never end, and Dana Scully was going to be stuck in a deafening purgatory.

All because of a Monday.

Isn't that how it goes, anyways? The Monday, as the first day, is supposed to shape the rest of the week?

Maybe, but this Monday, the fifth Monday in the school year, shaped not only the rest of her week, but the rest of her semester.

If people thought Mulder was more than a lab partner simply for being her lab partner, they're probably going to assume that the two are going to elope and live in Vegas, selling hard drugs and illegal firearms after Scully knocked out Dean Dermott.

She got more than occasional looks and friendly teasing. Now, Scully's getting full-on glares, locker notes (her personal favourite, "ms spooky sucks milky way bars", deserves a mention and a c+ for creativity), and on top of that, being theatrically shunned from classroom activities.

Her newly established (anti)social status as a "poser", "fake", "tool" and "extraterrestrial in disguise", on a positive note, gave her more time to think about her future.

She thought of a lot, but didn't set her mind on anything.

She hates how much she thinks.

She hates not thinking what she wants to think, and on the other hand, hates thinking what she wants to think, too.

She hates thinking.

But now it's Friday, the 17th of October, and it's too late to stop.

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Mulder looks at the clock on his wall.

Four more minutes and it's not six-ish anymore.

Seven-ish. That's what it'll be. Seven-ish. From some reason, it sounds even more ridiculous than six-ish.

Maybe it's good that she didn't show up. He forgot to clean his room again.

He can't help but feel bad. Did he come off too weird over the phone? He tried as hard as he could not to.

Mulder opens the window to let some fresh air in. He notices it's getting dark.

Night on his street is especially pretty to him, in its own way. When the whole street is engulfed in darkness, save for the big, yellow rays of light that the streetlights provide.

It's just the suburbs, but there's still people out at night. He sees people waiting for buses and cabs. He sees late-night cyclists and people being dropped off at home and people just walking. Sometimes they notice him looking. They sometimes wave a hand, and he waves back.

He leans his forearms against the windowsill.

Just walking sounds like something he'd like to do. Just walking on your own isn't so fun, though. He'd like to be just walking with someone. Without a goal. Especially at night.

Two goalless people just walking at night.

Two people, because three people, or four or five, or any more, would be a crowd. Two people because it's still quiet enough to hear the so-called "sounds of the night"; the chirping of crickets, and the sound that the (leftover) leaves on the trees make when a breeze comes along, and other, beautiful, unexplainable noises.

That sounds nice.

"Oh, hey."

He looks down to see Scully looking up at the window. A goofy smile spreads across his face as he immediately perks up.

"Stay right there," he moves away from the window and heads towards his bedroom door.

Mulder takes a quick look towards the clock on the wall as he unlocks the bedroom door. Ten past seven(-ish).

Once he's done racing down the carpeted stairs, he takes a deep breath before finally opening the front door.

"Hey," he grins at her.

"Hey," she replies, "I'm, uhm, sorry for being late."

He shrugs. "It's okay."

"You should come in." he adds, moving out of the way, opening the door wider.

"Thanks," Scully smiles as she enters the house.

It's relatively big. She immediately notices that. Well-furnished, but not as well-furnished as Mr Tarren's office.

She slips her shoes off at the entrance and puts them away next to the tiny cabinet right by the door.

"Sorry. Mom's a clean freak." he chuckles.

"It's all good." she squints, looking at his face. Something's changed.

"New specs?"

"Different, not new, though. Replacements til I get new ones, since Dermott smashed the old pair." he explains, closing the door.

She nods.

"These suit you better, they've got thinner frames."

He stays silent, trying to come up with a reply. He can't think of one.

"We should, uh, get started," he gestures towards the stairs.

The redhead nods.

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His room is much different compared to the other parts of the house. Its walls covered by various posters, and the floor by red shag carpet. There's papers everywhere but on his desk. On his bed, on the shelves, on the floor, etcetera. There's an open, half-empty bag of sunflower seeds on his desk, right next to a radio.

"Sorry, I forgot to clean up in time," he nervously scratches the back of his head.

"It's alright. Looks kinda cool." she sets her bag down onto the floor. "So, what do you wanna start with?"

He looks through his own bag.

"English?" he suggests, pulling out his notebook.

"Sure."

They awkwardly sit down on his bed after he moves a couple of papers away.

As Mulder starts copying her notes, she looks around the room a little more.

Horror movie posters, newspaper articles, and a calendar with a circled date.

Scully takes a closer look.

"Monday, October 13th"

"What happened on Monday?" she asks, still looking at the calendar.

His eyes stay glued to her English notebook.

"Besides the fact I got beat up?" he asks a rhetorical question. "My birthday, I think."

Oh.

"Sorry about that." she says, her voice softer.

"You don't need to be. I stopped caring when my parents did, after Samantha -- went missing." he replies dully, not lifting his gaze up from the notebook.

Oh.

"Is that supposed to make the whole thing sound better, ethically?" she asks.

"The fact I entirely forgot about it will probably make it sound even worse."

They stay silent for a few moments. Scully wonders why her presence provokes silence so often.

"I'll copy the notes for you," she gets up.

"Wh--" he starts, but she interrupts him.

"Come on, we're going out."

"Where?"

"You've had your birthday go ignored by your parents and yourself bullied by your classmates because of your sister going missing for four years now. The least I can do, Mulder, is take you out for one night, to try and convince you that it's unhealthy to get used to neglect."