Author's Notes: I'll admit it, I think I need help, I seem to only write stuff that involves Mulder hurt or dying. Go figure. I guess it's just easy for me to write things from Scully's point of view. :) This was the result of another night of boredom, so I hope you like it! And, Valentine's is probably my least favorite holiday, so I decided to make Mulder hate it too, he doesn't strike me as the candy hearts and perfume type, you know? :)

Disclaimer: Strike up the band, it's time for the disclaimer dance! Mulder, Scully and Skinner are property of FOX Television, 1013 Productions, Chris Carter, and probably a bunch of other people. And I am nothing if not a poor college kid with tuition to pay, with no money for a court case so don't get any ideas all of you suit types.

He hated Valentine's Day. No, he really hated Valentine's Day. Things between he and Scully had been getting better. Even when she met Jackson, their friendship hadn't faltered. But, the day before at work, something changed. He was grouchy, and totally unresponsive to Scully's good cheer because of Valentine's Day. He was envious, envious that she was happy and he was still searching, even though he didn't even know what for anymore.

She smiled when she walked in and saw the dozen roses sitting on her desk. She crossed the small office, pulled out the card and read the short note from Jackson. Leaning over, she smelled the fragrant scent of the flowers. She replaced the card before she looked over at her partner. Mulder was sitting at his desk, looking, well, like Mulder. He had his glasses on, his jacket thrown across the arm rest of the chair. He thumbed his way through a file while every so often reaching to grab another sunflower seed.

"Mulder?" She called, amazed at his intensity directed toward reading the file. She walked over to stand in front of his desk, and said again, "Mulder?"

He glanced up, startled. "Scully, hey," he looked back down at the case file on his desk. "How long have you been back?" He asked, still not looking up at his partner and turning a page in the file.

Scully looked at her partner, slightly confused. Even Mulder didn't usually become so engrossed in a case file so as to not even see her come in the office. Shaking her head slightly, she continued. "Just a few minutes ago. What are you reading?" She leaned over to try and read part of the text on the open page.

He closed the file abruptly, and leaned back in his chair, lacing his hands behind his head. "Nothing important."

'Nothing important'? her mind questioned. He didn't even notice me come in and it is just 'nothing important'? She stood back up straight, and looked directly at her partner. Mulder, again, didn't meet her gaze.

Questions whirled through her mind. Instead of initiating a debate, like she might normally do, she diverted to neutral topics. "So, do you have any plans for tomorrow?"

"Nope, why? It's not any different from any other Saturday. Why, you?" He was baiting her, and she knew it. But she wasn't about to back down.

She couldn't understand why he was acting so hostile. He had never had a problem with Jackson before. Her blue eyes were ablaze. "Well, Mulder, seeing as how it's Valentine's Day and all, yes, Jackson and I have plans. You know, like most everyone on the planet."

"Well, I always have been one of the unusual ones, Scully." He said, with a smirk on his face. He finally looked up from where he had been staring to look her in the face. "But, you be sure to tell 'most everyone else on the planet' to have a good time." The look in his hazel eyes was a mixture of hostility and annoyance. He stood and walked over to her desk where he picked up one of the roses she had just been admiring a few minutes before.

For a moment she was worried he might do something juvenile like tear it to pieces, but he didn't. Instead he walked over to where she was standing and began to speak. "Besides, I'm sure you and good ole Jackson will have a good enough time tomorrow to make up for my inactivity."

She nearly recoiled from the venom in his words. She recovered quickly, her temper flaring. "How dare you!" She hissed. "Where do you get off copping this attitude, Mulder? Just because you can't manage to find a date, much less manage a working relationship doesn't mean you have the right to degrade mine." She pushed her way around him, walking to her desk and gathering her purse and retrieving her roses.

Realizing that he had lashed out at her, for no other reason than to try to make himself feel better, he lowered his head. He whispered, "Scully, I . . ."

"Don't." Scully cut him off before he could really begin. "Don't say you're sorry, because I do not want to hear it. Now, I am off to enjoy my weekend, and for all I care, you can go to hell." She began to storm out of the office when she heard him speak, causing her to pause.

"Here," he handed her the rose, "don't forget this. See you Monday?" His eyes were nearly pleading with her, and he shuffled his feet while shoving his hands in his pockets.

She pulled the rose from his grasp. After a moment of silence, she replied in an icy voice, "we'll see." Turning on her heel, she exited the office, her heels echoing down the hall.

Mulder didn't know how long he had stood there, not doing anything except staring at the floor mentally kicking himself. Eventually he retrieved his jacket and briefcase from behind his desk and left the office as well. He drove to his apartment, stopping once to pick up some vodka and orange juice. It's gonna be a long night he thought as he drove.

Several hours and a nearly empty bottle of vodka later, Mulder slouched on his leather couch in front of his television which was showing some awful science fiction movie that belonged on Mystery Science Theater 3000. His eyes were glassy, not at all paying attention to the horrible movie. He tried not to think too much, because every time he did, his thoughts were always about his fight with Scully. He wanted to call and apologize, but he knew she would only be angrier with him for it.

He sighed, and resigned himself to a long sleepless evening, he couldn't bear the thought of more nightmares. When he awoke later, 2:23 according to the clock, he didn't remember having fallen asleep. Standing to try and shake off the effects of the nightmare he'd just had, his head swam, reminding him about all of the vodka he'd drank earlier.

He slowly walked to the bathroom, and when he had finished there, he began to pace in his living room. Noticing that he had left the television on, he punched the off button. He continued to pace for what felt like hours, but was in reality only twenty minutes. He needed something to occupy himself with, so he decided to go for a run. He stayed close to his apartment, since he was still feeling the effects of the liquor.

An hour later, he returned home. The run had helped clear his head, so he thought he might risk getting some sleep. Laying down, he switched the television back on. He settled into the familar contours of the leather, and drifted off quickly.

He woke up again at dawn, wanting nothing more than to be able to just sleep through the entire day. The day passed slowly, but Mulder occupied himself by avoiding all of the romantic films on television that day. By dusk, he was throughly involved in beating himself up over the way he had acted the day before. He hated Valentine's Day. No, he really hated Valentine's Day.

Sometime later, he decided to go for a drive, and get out of the city for a little while. He grabbed his keys and walked out of his apartment.

Mulder didn't know where exactly he was driving to, he just kept driving. The drivers side window was rolled down, and the wind whipped through his hair. The air turned colder the longer he drove, and he rolled up the window. He had been driving around for a couple of hours, and it was well past dark when he neared the city. He stopped for a red light and started to drive through when the light turned green.

He never saw the red sedan that plowed into his drivers side door. Mulder's head slammed into the window beside him, knocking him unconscious. The speed of the impact drove the two cars through the intersection and they finally came to rest against the side of a corner building, pinning Mulder's car between the red sedan and the brick wall.

The driver of the other car climbed out of his car, rather drunk but unhurt. Looking at the smashed blue Taurus in front of him, groggily he picked up his car phone and called 911. A few cars passed by the scene, but only a few stopped. The ambulance was there within minutes and took the unconscious FBI agent to the hospital.

After a long evening of dinner and dancing, Scully and Jackson were cuddling together on her couch. The couple was talking and sipping wine, simply enjoying each others company. Scully swore silently when her phone rang. She crossed the room and picked up the handset, punched talk and said, "Hello?"

"Yes, is this a Dr. Scully?" Asked an unfamiliar voice.

"Yes it is, may I help you," she snapped.

"Uh," the voice paused, "I'm calling in regards to your partner, Fox Mulder? You were listed as the person to call in case of emergency."

Concern crossed her features, but she figured it was just another close call and she needed to come fill out paperwork. "Yes, that's right. What did he do this time," mild annoyance still filling her voice.

"He was just brought in, the car he was driving was T-boned at an intersection."

Scully slowly paled, her knuckles turning white against the telephone. "How . . . How is he?" she asked, her voice suddenly very small.

"I shouldn't go into it over the phone, could you please come to the hospital?" The nurse on the phone gave Scully the information she would need and she hung up. Scully stood still, staring at the wall. Slowly she turned to where Jackson was sitting on the couch, looking at her concerned.

"Dana?" He called out to her, her eyes betrayed the battle her emotions were fighting within her.

"I have to go, Jackson. It's Mulder. He needs me. Oh no . . ." Her features paled even more as she remembered her last conversation with Mulder.

"What is it Dana?" Jackson asked, concern in his eyes.

"The last time I talked to Mulder, I, I told him to go to hell." Tears threatened to course down her cheeks, and she collapsed down into a chair. Jackson crossed over to kneel beside her.

"It'll be okay, doesn't Mulder love to prove you wrong?" He placed his hand on her cheek, "Do you want me to drive you?"

She began to move quickly, grabbing her coat and keys, and Jackson took a step back. She looked at the man standing before her, she was so grateful that he was taking the turn of events so well. She walked to where he stood, and gave him a quick kiss. "No, but thank you. I hate doing this to you, but I have to be there for him."

He looked down into her eyes, "I understand," he said honestly.

Scully didn't remember the drive to the hospital as she rushed in through the ER doors. She ran up to the admitting desk, "Fox Mulder? I was called to come down, he was in a car wreck." After a delay, she was lead to the familiar surroundings of ICU.

She looked down at the still form lying in the hospital bed. He was connected to a variety of machines, and his face looked like someone had used it for a punching bag. Scully pulled up a chair and sat beside his bed, taking his hand in hers. After sitting there for a little while, she got up to stretch her legs and picked up Mulder's chart.

Scully was surprised by the extent of his injuries. Head trauma, fractured femur, arm broken in two places, one broken and two cracked ribs, even a punctured lung. She shook her head, her gaze falling across the man before her. He looked awful, and knew that when he woke up he would feel worse.

She sat back down and closed her eyes, just for a moment. However, the next thing she knew it was daylight. She stood up, looked at the still unconscious form of her partner, and went to call Skinner and her mom.

Her mom arrived within two hours of when Scully called her. Mrs. Scully walked into the room in which her daughter and Fox were. She hated days like that, but it was a far too common occurrence with Fox and her daughter. Maggie placed her hand on Scully's shoulder, who turned to face her mother.

"Mom," she said as she stood to collapse into the offered hug.

"How's my Fox?" Maggie questioned, hugging her daughter tightly. "What happened exactly?" Scully's reaction had startled her, it wasn't what she had came to expect.

"He'll be fine, physically they think. However, it would be better if he would wake up. That's not what has me concerned. Mom, I can't believe what I said to him. I can't believe what happened." Her words came out in a rush, and she collapsed back into the chair she had just vacated.

Maggie's concern grew as she listened to Scully talk. "Dana, tell me what happened. What did you say?"

"When he wakes up he's going to hate me, I told him to go to hell," she whispered the last part so softly that her mother had to strain to make out the words. Maggie's eyes widened at her daughter's words.

"He won't hate you. He could never hate you. Besides, you're always complaining that he never listens to you." Both women smiled at her words. The moment was broken by a slight noise coming from Mulder's direction. When they looked at him, his eyes were fluttering open. Scully stood up quickly, taking his hand and brushing his hair off his forehead.

"Mulder?" She asked quietly. He continued to stir, and finally managed to bring the image of his partner into focus. "Mulder?" she repeated.

His eyes began to close again, and she heard him whisper, "I'm sorry," as he fell back to sleep.

Over the next couple of days, Mulder began the slow process of recovering from his injuries. Every time Scully tried to talk to him about their argument on Friday, he sidestepped the conversation. The entire time she couldn't get it out of her mind that he had apologized to her when he'd first woken up, even after what she had said to him.

Finally he was ready to go home, and Scully was waiting to take him to his apartment when the paperwork was finished. He grumbled that he couldn't drive, because of his arm, but otherwise was quiet.

When they arrived at his dark apartment, she helped him get settled in. Then she turned toward him and said, "Mulder, we have to talk. I want to talk about what was said last Friday." He tried to avoid her eyes, but found that she wouldn't let him.

Guilt washed over his features, and settled in his eyes. Sadly, the guilt looked so familiar there. "Your mom said that you came to the hospital Saturday night, that the nurse called you," he looked at her for conformation, and she nodded her head. "That means that I still managed to ruin your day with Jackson. And on top of that, you've been with me almost non-stop since. Besides that, I said some horrible things to you Friday for no reason than spite."

"Mulder, you weren't alone in that conversation. Do you know what it felt like, sitting there in that hospital room, knowing the last thing I said to you was 'go to hell'?" She looked down at her hands, and back up at the man before her. "Ask mom, it was tearing me apart thinking you might not make it after that."

"I deserved it, after the way I treated you. I was envious," he stated in a matter-of-fact manner. She looked at him, confusion on her face. "Not of Jackson because he had you, just that you had each other. You were so happy, looking forward to Valentine's Day, and I felt miserable. Miserable being alone in every way, not knowing where I was going or who with. I was selfish, wanting you to know how I felt." He stood, and walked over to the window, pausing to glance at the somehow surviving fish on the table.

Scully didn't know what to say. It wasn't very often they put it all out there, and bared their souls. They were both guilty of locking away what they felt. "I wish I had known, Mulder. I wouldn't have been so careless about your feelings." She walked to stand beside him, and placed her hand on his arm. "And you're not alone."

"I know. I knew it then, I just was too busy talking first and thinking later to process what I was saying, and I really do regret it," he confessed, searching her eyes.

She stared up into his hazel eyes, "I'm just glad you didn't listen to me." She smiled. "Mom said how you never listen to me, I guess this time is no different, huh?"

"Why change a pattern that works, huh?" he joked.

She patted his arm, and walked away from the window. "I wouldn't expect anything different."

fin

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