I Believe You

Assistant Director Walter Skinner watched as the technician fired the gun by means of a mechanical arm into the ballistics tank. He already knew what the results would state, and what they would mean. Agent Mulder stood next to him, not speaking, not looking at him, completely still. It made Walter's stomach queasy to speculate what his agent thought of him now. Betrayer. Turncoat. Mulder's face in his minds eye came back to taunt him. Angry and hurt, gun drawn, accusations flying, tempers flaring as they argued in his apartment after Mulder had discovered his face in the surveillance footage. The drive down here to the lab had been tense but now.... now there was nothing. As if Mulder had taken all of it and bottled it up, bottled him up and decided he wasn't worth it.
His hand came up of it's own accord, fingers traitorously unsteady to rub along the lines in his forehead. How had things gone so fucking wrong? He asked himself. Mulder chose to glance at him just then and the look he gave Walter gave away nothing, no sign of forgiveness or condemnation, though the lack of either in those stormy green eyes hurt worse than Walter though imaginable. He had lost him. Before he'd even had a chance... he'd lost him. And through his own stupidity. What made him think he'd be able to play the snake and get away without being bitten? He should have followed his own advice and never dealt with the smoking bastard. He had gotten an honest man killed, and now his own Agent Mulder looked at him as if he were nothing. Unworthy of even disdain.
He listened with dread as Mulder spoke to the tech and they all three watched on the screen as the bullet pulled from the dead cop was compared to a bullet from his own gun, and he waited for Mulder to point the finger of blame.
“Yeah, I would say definitely the same gun...” the tech was saying. Mulder nodded slowly and his eyes never left the gun.
“So where'd you find it?” This technician asked a lot of damn questions, thought Walter as the anticipation ate at his stomach lining. Mulder tipped his head to the side, a motion Walter had seen him preform when he was thinking hard or under stress. Walter looked everywhere but at Mulder and the gun, mind racing this way and that trying to think of a way to explain the gun if Mulder should tell the technician the truth about where the gun had been found. In his desk drawer at home, where it had supposedly always been, except for the night the detective was blown away in cold blood to protect a bunch of conspirators. He was feeling dizzy when he heard Mulder speak.
“In a sewer grate around the corner from the crime scene. Sometimes you get lucky, you know?” Mulder's voice sounded tired, and instead of making him feel better, Walter felt worse. The tech smiled and shrugged.
“Mmm.... Sometimes you don't, right?” The tech picked up the gun in it's plastic evidence bag and shook his head ruefully. Mulder frowned.
“What do you mean?” He asked. Walter was still trying to compose himself as subtly as possible and so it didn't surprise him when the tech pointed out the obvious.
“The serial number.... It's been filed clean off.” He motioned “Now unless forensics pulled a print, this gun is virtually untraceable.” Mulder sighed and said something about how you win some and you lose some, and they left together. Walter walking ahead of Mulder so that he wouldn't have to look at him, and so he missed the almost wistful look his agent directed at the back of his head. Walter had always admired the younger man, valued him, more than Mulder would ever know. His feelings ran deeper than he would have admitted even to himself and now he had gone and screwed it all to hell.
“Sir.” The soft call for attention pulled him up short as if he were tied to a leash. He turned around to see that Mulder had stopped a few yards back and now they stood facing each other across that span. The distance seemed greater than just a few paces suddenly. The parking garage was quiet around them, the early morning hours had a stillness to them that made Walter shiver slightly as he waited for Mulder to speak. There was emotion now, in those eyes, and it was like a knife to his heart.
“Agent Mulder....” Walter managed to choke as he tore his gaze away and redirected it at his feet. He couldn't do this. He heard footsteps crunching on the gravel and asphalt as Mulder crossed the distance between them and suddenly there was a second pair of boots to stare at. Worn and scuffed from countless hours of legwork on cases in search of the truth. The very truth he had helped to bury, Walter though bitterly.
“Sir....” Mulder whispered, but Walter didn't dare look up for fear his face would betray what he was feeling. He had kept certain things from Mulder all this time, things that should stay undiscovered. Like the depth of the feelings he was too tired to put behind a surly mask at the moment. Hands gripped none too gently at his trench coat shoulders, startling Walter into looking up into a face that was just as vulnerable as he felt.
“I'm sorry-” Walter began, just as Mulder voiced a soft “It's okay...” The hands on his shoulders kneaded slightly and Walter had no defense against what it made him feel. Almost of their own accord his hands came up to grab handfuls of Mulder's jacket. If he had been a braver man he might have followed through with the instinct to place his hands at Mulder's waist, where they seemed to want to go, but he didn't and so he clenched his fists tight into the fabric of Mulder's jacket and gritted his teeth still not making direct eye contact. He stared at those lips instead, those perfect lips.
“I know why, Sir.” Mulder let his hands slide up his shoulders to cup his face, fingers lightly encircling Waters neck and feeling the suddenly racing pulse there.
“Mulder...” Walter tried to speak but one of Mulder's thumbs was suddenly there across his mouth, silencing him.
“I know why you did it, Walter. And I know how you feel.” Mulder's voice held something that made Walter finally make eye contact and his breath caught at the affection he found there.
“You do?” He murmured around the warm digit resting on his lower lip. “How could you know?” Mulder didn't answer him right away, only drew Walter closer and met his surprised lips with his own in a soft exploring kiss. Mulder tasted of coffee and late nights with an undertone that was so sweet and so specifically Mulder that Walter groaned as he melted into the kiss. Mulder pulled back reluctantly, a shadow of his old sly smile tugging at the corner of his lips and shining there in his green eyes.
“Because of what you risked, Walter.” Walter realized he'd wrapped his arms around the slender body, that they fit together perfectly. The realization did things to the logic part of his brain and made higher thinking difficult, but he still had things he wanted to say.
“I was just trying to protect you. To save Scully for you....” Walter cursed the unsteadiness of his voice and fought for control. He had only wanted to keep Mulder safe, and to save him pain. Keeping Scully safe was part of that, not just his duty as Assistant Director. Mulder took his hand then and turned them both towards the car, looking over his shoulder with a look that was both tender and determined.
“I believe you, Sir.” Mulder said, his eyes steady on Walters. And that gaze, so steady and straightforward said something more. Walter could hardly believe it but it was there all the same. As Mulder pulled him gently towards the car, his eyes said “I love you, too.”