I love you prompt 15: Loud, so everyone can hear
“Tell me the news, doc, am I gonna make it?” He croaks, letting her pull his hands from his gut. Oh, he can’t look. He coughs and laughs, weakly, twitching like a fish out of water while she resumes the pressure.
“Help is on the way, Mulder. Just keep breathing.” And she keeps talking, voice steady like her hands. Consciousness pulls him in and out but he holds on to her words like a rope. He doesn’t want to die, so he won’t. That thought pulses with the blood seeping into her palms.
The commotion around them — Skinner shouting orders at the cascading backup, the screaming sirens, the deafening crack of a single, accurate gunshot — fades into static, means nothing. It’s just him and her, her with him, huddled up in another dimension entirely like they always are.
The bus finally comes, but his hope is whittling away as the pain worsens. He’s lifted into the stretcher. Scully bullies everyone into doing what she wants, and then he hears it, loud and visceral as the throbbing in his abdomen. “I love you.” They load him up and she follows, and he laughs through reality altering pain.
“That bad, huh?”
“You’re going to be alright,” she says. For once, he’ll let himself believe she’s got it right.