"Mulder, you love iced tea. Why haven't you touched it?" Scully eyed him with concern over dinner. He had been increasingly depressed over the last week—not participating in anything he could get out of, talking even less than he usually did, refusing Scully's offers to help him, not eating much, and now he wouldn't even drink anything. As he refused to sleep with Scully, his nightmares were continuing and the bedwetting was not improving. She sighed with sadness.
"I'm not thirsty." (I can't drink anything right now. Not after 4 in the afternoon. Maybe if I don't drink after 4, I won't -- )
"Okay, okay. You win." Angrily, she got up from the table and took her dishes to the sink.
(I'm sorry, Scully. I can't tell you why. I can't. )
*(^%&^)%
As he climbed in bed, Mulder felt the familiar fear begin to suffocate him. He wanted so much to have Scully beside him, but he wanted to try to quit his bedwetting by himself. So he was experimenting with his fluid intake. (I have to do this alone. ), he told himself. Soon he drifted into a fearful sleep, and soon the monsters of his memory assaulted him. He awoke to his own screaming, cursing himself for being so weak. Scully was by his side in a few moments, attempting to calm him. "It was just a dream, Mulder. Just a dream."
"No it wasn't!" he screamed back to her. "No it wasn't—that's just it. It never was a dream. I always wished it was, but it never was."
Scully had pulled back from him when he yelled at her, but was now overcome with sadness for him. "I'm sorry, Mulder. I didn't know."
#@$^%$^&
The next afternoon, Scully went with Mulder to Dr. Sawyer's office.
After a long time with Mulder not saying much of anything, the therapist decided to push him some. "Lately, how have you been dealing with what happened to you, Mulder?"
He lifted his head slightly and then lowered it again. "I don't know. I have nightmares. I wet the fucking bed like a child. I'm acting like a wimp. I hate myself. I guess that's how I'm dealing with it," he snapped.
Dr. Sawyer sighed heavily with frustration. "Don't you want to change that?"
"I can't."
"Why do you think that?"
"I don't know. I just do, all right?"
Knowing that Mulder wasn't expecting it, she asked him, "What did your father do to you?"
Mulder visibly winced. She had caught him very off guard with that one. Biting his lip, he remained silent.
"Mulder?" she pushed gently.
He started to tremble. "We weren't talking about that."
"We are now." The psychological strategy of letting the patient lead the discussions would not work with Mulder. He was too knowledgeable of how psychology works. She realised that she would have to be tough on him.
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Mulder, you say you want to feel better, but you're not doing what you know you need to do. Hiding behind all your defenses is only going to make things worse for you."
His throat tightened and his eyes burned. "I don't want to."
It was hurting Scully to see Mulder hurt like this, and she put her hand on his to reassure him that she was there. At her touch, a quiet sound of pain escaped from Mulder's throat against his will.
Sensing her patient's vulnerability, Dr. Sawyer softened her tone. "I know you don't. But you need to."
He looked to Scully painfully and saw her support, but was afraid nevertheless.
"Tell us, Mulder," Scully whispered.
Scully could see his struggle. "I…damn, he…I would usually be in bed and…but sometimes not. I…I'll just tell a little right now, okay?"
The therapist was happy to see him talking and really didn't care how much he said…just as long as he told something. "That's perfectly fine."
"I've always had nightmares, bad ones…when I was small…like, four…he started coming in my room at night…he was drunk a lot of those times, but sometimes he wasn't…" (Oh, God. I don't want to do this. I can't say this. They're going to think I'm so bad…to think that about my dad. I was so perverted to think-- ) He let out a heavy sigh. "I remember the first time he…came in my room like that…he was…different somehow…just felt different?…I…I asked him what he was doing and he said 'nothing. I'm not doing anything.' I was confused, so didn't say anything else…he kept just…looking at me…then he pulled the sheets off of me and I didn't know what he…I didn't understand, I didn't, I didn't understand…" his voice began to tremble and Scully squeezed his hand.
"It's okay," she whispered.
"So I just laid there…and I was starting to get pretty nervous now, 'cause he just felt weird, you know? He had this…kind of weird energy radiating…I just knew something bad was going to happen…so he…he kneeled next to my bed, and I was looking down at him…he…put his…hand…on my stomach…then he kinda…slipped it underneath my nightshirt and…kinda like…stroked my belly a lot? And I was feeling really creepy now. Really creepy…just real bad…and I was scared…his hand felt bad, it felt bad…he was rubbing real slow and stuff…and then he started sliding his fingers along my pajama bottoms…like by my underwear? You know…and so…I…I just didn't like that, I didn't like it…I didn't…"
Scully spoke softly to him. "Of course you didn't, honey. That would have been really scary."
"And creepy," he added.
"Yes, very." She moved her hand to stroke his back. "You're so brave. Do you know that?"
Mulder's lip began to quiver, and he couldn't talk anymore. He whimpered quietly.
Scully brought her other hand up to his head and pulled him to her breast. Mulder's arms wrapped tightly around her and as he buried his head he began to cry.
As painful as it was for Mulder, Dr. Sawyer was pleased to see him finally talking about what he had so long held secret. She smiled at the bond that was so strong between Mulder and the woman who loved him enough to support him through his healing.
Scully held Mulder in her arms and tried her best to soothe him. (God, Mulder, when is this going to stop? Why do you have to hurt like this? How could anyone do this to you? Why can't I just make it stop? How could anyone do this to my Mulder? MY Mulder? ) "Mulder, it's okay," she whispered into his hair as she gave in to the anger towards her own helplessness. "It's not fair, Mulder. I hate him. I HATE him for doing this to you. I HATE him," she declared shakily.
*$%^@##(
Since Scully had begun to hound him not only about his not eating, but now not drinking enough, Mulder began to sneak around her watchful eye.
After she had returned from the office one evening, she noticed that the iced tea pitcher had been significantly drained, and let Mulder know she was pleased.
"I just finally got thirsty," he lied. What he had actually done was pour it down the drain, but she didn't need to know that. He had increased his efforts to avoid fluids to the point where he was barely drinking anything, and it was still not helping at night. One night he awoke in his familiar terror, and when he had collected himself and pulled the sheets back to change them, Scully gasped.
"Oh, my God, Mulder!"
"What?" He looked down and saw the sheets stained with blood. "Fuck. What the hell?"
After her initial shock, Scully went into doctor diagnosis mode. "Mulder, have you really been drinking anything, or have you just been dumping it out?"
"Uh…I guess I've dumped some of it out," he admitted.
"You're going to the doctor tomorrow. You probably have a bladder infection from not drinking anything…you've just been drinking your coffee in the morning, haven't you?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, well, don't worry; it's not anything really serious. You're just going to have to urinate a lot, and it's probably going to hurt some, considering you've made yourself bleed…Damn, Mulder, when are you actually going to take care of yourself? Don't you care anything about yourself?"
Mulder chose not to answer that question.
$#%&^
Mulder fidgeted on the examination table waiting for his doctor to come in.
"Hello, Agent Mulder…What's the problem here?" He looked down at his chart and read the nurse's notes. "You think you have a bladder infection?"
Mulder cleared his throat. "Yeah. My partner's a doctor. She says that's what it is, so if you can just give me a prescription for some antibiotics—"
"No, I'm going to have to examine you before I decide what's wrong with you," the doctor smiled, amused at his patient's effort to get out of the office.
His heart began to race at the thought. As the doctor approached him, he tried his best not to show his fear. (He'll think I'm an idiot for being so afraid. I have to act like this is no big deal. ) Next thing he knew, the doctor was getting his attention.
"Agent Mulder?"
"Yeah?" He suddenly realised that he was lying on the examination table. (When did I lie down? )
"Agent Mulder, I'm sure you have a bladder infection, but I'm going to need a urine specimen to make sure that's all it is."
Mulder felt a cold fear run through his veins, though he wasn't sure why. "You really need one?"
"Yep. The nurse will give you the container and you can go down there. On with your clothes, and I hope I don't see you for a while now."
"Uh…I thought you said you had to examine me first."
The doctor looked at him with a puzzled expression. "I just did, Agent Mulder. Where were you?" After another moment, the doctor went on to see another patient.
(What the hell just happened? Why don't I remember that? ) Mulder got dressed and went to the nurse's station. She handed him a plastic cup with his name on it and pointed to the bathroom down the hall. "Okay, Mr. Mulder. Go to that bathroom there and give us a specimen and you can be on your way home."
Mulder made his way to the bathroom and closed the door. His heart began to speed up. (What the fuck's wrong with me? I'm being such a wimp. It's only a fucking urine sample, for Christ's sake. ) Unzipping his pants and reaching into his underwear, he pulled out his penis and held the cup underneath it. Panic hit him. (Oh, God. Let go. Leave. Go outside. I can do it myself. Leave me alone. Stop. Stop. Stop. )
He heard a knock on the door. "Anyone in there?"
(Fuck. ) "Yeah, just a minute." ('Fox, hurry. Why aren't you going? What's wrong with you? You can't even piss in a cup? Everybody's waiting, Fox. You can't leave until you fill that cup. You can be so stupid, Fox.' ) Skin crawling. Legs weakening. Sweating. Heart racing. Hands. Hands. Hands. Hot breath on the back of his neck. (I'm trapped. I'm never getting away. )
Quickly zipping back up, he opened the door and returned to the nurse's station. "Can't go," he announced, trying to act like this was no big deal. "I went right before I came."
"Oh, okay. There's a Coke machine outside the waiting room if you need one. I'll just leave this here for you."
Mulder grimaced unconsciously. "Do you really need one of those? I mean, he knows what's wrong with me."
"Sorry, Mr. Mulder. We need it. Don't worry; we can wait," she smiled.
(Just what I wanted to hear. )
Mulder tried drinking a Coke, but that trick didn't work. He was still unsuccessful. So he tried another drink. After several humiliations, he gave up and sneaked out of the office without the doctor being able to prescribe him anything.
%&@#%#$
"So what did he say, Mulder?" She then noticed the pained look on his face.
"Just take me home, Scully," he groaned.
She drove off and then asked him why he looked so tortured.
(Oh, God. I can't talk to her about this. ) "Nothing, Scully. Nothing. Just get me home."
As soon as the door was open, Mulder rushed for the bathroom to relieve himself. He had forgotten how painful that act had become and cried out when the pain hit.
(What is wrong with him? )
When he returned to the living room, Scully picked up her purse. "I'll go get your prescription filled. Where is it?"
Confused, he stared back at her.
"A little piece of paper? Signed by the doctor? For medicine?"
"Uh..." He looked down. "I don't have one," he muttered quietly.
"He didn't give you an antibiotic?"
"No...no, he didn't."
"That's crazy. Why wouldn't--" Scully got up to call the doctor and question his judgment.
When Mulder realised what she was doing, he called out, "No, Scully. you don't need to--"
"Yes, this is Dr. Dana Scully. I need to speak to Dr. Hamilton, please."
She was transferred to a nurse.
"I need to speak to Dr. Hamilton about Fox Mulder. He didn't give him an antibiotic and I'm wondering...yeah...well, why?...what?"
Mulder got up to go to his room. He closed the blinds and lay on the bed in the dark. He soon heard Scully shuffling down the hallway.
"Mulder?" she called. When she received no answer, she approached his bed and kneeled next to him. She tried to meet his eyes, but he wouldn't look at her. She brushed a few stray wisps of hair from his eyes. "What happened?" she asked softly.
Mulder turned to face the other wall.
"You can tell me."
After several moments of silence, he finally told her, "I couldn't go."
She tried to keep the worry out of her voice. "Yeah...what happened?"
"It's stupid."
Scully got up and sat on the bed next to him, talking to his back. "No, Mulder. It's not. Tell me."
Mulder cringed with embarrassment. "I just got scared. It's stupid. It's a fucking urine sample."
"Something about it upset you. That's not stupid. What upset you?"
He sighed heavily. "I had a flashback. My dad...just...scared me once while I was doing that."
"A urine sample?"
The blush of his face deepened. "Yeah."
Scully put a reassuring hand on his back. "Well, No wonder you were scared."
"I don't want to talk about it anymore, Scully."
She could definitely understand why. "Okay. What do you want for dinner?"
"Nothing."
Scully smiled. "What's second on your list?"
When he still did not answer her, she got up to fix some soup and she called the doctor back to get Mulder's prescription.
She succeeded in getting him to eat and drink and then told him she was going to pick up his prescription. When she got back, she placed the drug store bag on the kitchen table. With the prescription she pulled out a couple of bottles of cranberry juice. "Mulder, what are you watching?"
"An old episode of 'The Twilight Zone'," he answered, turning to face a glass of red liquid. He screwed up his nose. "What's that?"
"Cranberry juice."
"Oh, God, Scully!" You're trying to get me to drink stuff and you think THAT is going to encourage me?"
"It will help your bladder infection. you'll get better much faster."
He weighed his choices and gingerly reached for the glass as Scully put two pills into his other hand. "What are those?"
"One is an antibiotic. The other is to stop that feeling of needing to pee all the time."
"Oh," he grumbled, tossing the pills into his mouth and swallowing them with the juice. "Oh, Scully! Are you trying to kill me?"
"Mulder, drink it," she laughed. "And you have to drink a couple more glasses before you go to bed."
He sighed with resignation. (God, now I'm really going to have a rough night... )
?^**(()&
As Mulder lay awake in bed, he couldn't stop thinking about what had happened in the doctor's office. He couldn't get the memory out of his head and he was worried about the nightmares he would surely have.
He crept into Scully's room quietly, not wanting to startle her. "Scully?" he whispered.
Scully rolled over and looked hazily up at him. "Hmm?"
"Scully, can I...would you...can I sleep in here?"
"Of course, Mulder. She scooted to the side to make room for him. He climbed underneath the covers and began to settle in.
"Thanks, Scully," he said as he laid his head on her chest. She held him loosely and stroked his hair.
Taking a deep breath, he allowed himself to relax, knowing that for tonight, at least, he'll be safe. He concentrated on the beating of her heart beneath his ear. The sound lulled him into a deep quiet. "Your heartbeat is a sleeping potion for me, Scully."
She kissed his head a s she told him, "I'm glad you're here again, Mulder."
He smiled just before he fell asleep.
&@^$%
Several days later, Mulder's infection was gone and he tried to discuss his feelings with Scully. He told her that he wanted to sleep in her room but that he needed to know that he could get through his bedwetting problem by himself. Scully agreed, although she would much rather have had him sleeping next to her each night. Their first night away from each other again was tough.
When Mulder woke up screaming, Scully ran into his room and shook him awake, "Mulder. It's just a dream."
He continued to gasp for air, and she rubbed his neck soothingly. "Shhh. You're all right now. It's okay." He leaned into her and rested his head on her breast as she rocked him slowly. As she felt his body quickly sink into a deep sleep, she came up with an idea.
*$%&(*#
The next night before bed, Mulder sat on the sofa reading a magazine. He felt the cushion rise as Scully got up to go to the kitchen. When he looked up he saw her heating something on the stove. "Scully?"
"Yeah?"
"Aren't we about to go to bed?"
"Yeah."
"Then why are you cooking something?"
He watched her pour the contents of the pan into a large mug. "This is for you," she said as she handed him the hot mug.
"What is it?" he asked as he took the mug.
"Warm milk."
He groaned. "Gross, Scully! First that cranberry shit, and now--"
"Mulder, have you ever even had warm milk before?"
"No."
"Just try it. It sounds bad, but it's really pretty good. I don't know why, but it does calm your body. It's not just a wives tale." She smiled as she watched him carefully take a sip.
"It's not too bad," he admitted.
Scully went to get ready for bed.
As he drank the milk, Mulder almost magically began to feel comfortingly sleepy. Scully returned to see his eyes drooping. "It's working, I take it?"
"Mmm," he muttered. He enjoyed the warm feeling in his body. When he finished, Scully told him to go brush his teeth, and while he was in the bathroom she went to her room and pulled a box out of a sack. She took the box to Mulder's room and began setting up her "idea".
Mulder walked into his room ready for bed. "What are you doing?"
"Um, I thought of something last night that might help you at night. I don't know if it will do anything, but it won't hurt to try. Come on, get in bed."
As Mulder approached the bed he saw her fiddling with a plastic contraption. "What's that?" he asked as he settled in under the covers.
"I was thinking last night, that you've told me that my heartbeat puts you to sleep. It seems to really comfort you...One of my friends had one of these in her baby's room--"
"Baby's room?? Scully--"
"Shut up, Mulder. Hear me out. After she got it, Ethan started sleeping through the night." Scully flipped a switch and the sound of a heartbeat filled Mulder's ears. Scully tried to find out how to adjust the volume and she turned back to Mulder to find his eyes filed with tears. "What's wrong?"
He shook his head, causing a couple of the tears to fall. "Nothing...I just...you...you just always know what to do when I don't."
Scully leaned down to kiss his head. "Goodnight, Mulder."
*^#^%*
He woke up to sunlight and sat up in bed, surprised. (What? ) He checked underneath the sheets. Immediately he jumped out of bed to find Scully drinking coffee on the couch.
Scully looked up to the biggest smile she had ever seen on this man's face. He charged over to the couch and almost strangled her as he threw his arms around her neck. "Thank you, Scully!"
It was the first time in six weeks that he had slept alone and not woken up screaming and wetting the bed. Scully found herself teary-eyed with happiness for him. "Mulder, I'm so proud of you."
"Scully, thank you thank you thank you!"
She forced herself to shut up and accept his thanks. "You're welcome, Mulder...I love you."
He squeezed her tighter before sitting down next to her, beaming intensely.
"Did you remember that today is your appointment to get your cast off?"
He perked up even more. "Really?"
"Yeah. Good day, huh?"
"You could say that. Let me cook you breakfast, Scully."
She sat back a bit in mock shock. "You're fixing ME breakfast?"
"Yeah, Scully," he announced as he headed for the kitchen.
"Okay, how about Eggs Benedict?"
"Get real, Scully...remember who you're dealing with. I'm grateful to the bottom of my soul for you, but I have my cooking limits...usually heating up pizza is as complicated as I get."
Giggling, she conceded, "I know, Mulder. How about scrambled eggs with bacon?"
*%@#$
Mulder winced at the horrendous sound of the saw making its way through his cast. It reminded him of a dentist's drill. Finally, the damn thing was off and Mulder was soon sent on his way sans crutches.
He was eager to drive now that his cast was off, but as he was driving to lunch, he became a little uneasy. Why had he been staying at Scully's? At first, he needed help getting around...then he was sleeping in her bed...after that, he still needed to be driven everywhere... "Scully?"
"Yeah, Mulder?"
"Um...I was thinking...I guess I'll be packing and going back home now that I can drive." He spoke in a questioning tone.
Scully had not thought about it and frowned. "Yeah...if you want to."
"What do you mean?" (Please ask me to stay, Scully. )
"Well, I don't know...I mean, I've kind of gotten used to having you around...I...I like having you around."
"You do?" he asked hopefully.
"Of course I do, Mulder. I'd...I'd like it if you'd stay...if you want to...I mean we could just keep things going the way they are. Just because you're staying with me doesn't mean we have to change anything for right now. No pressure, okay?"
"Okay."
"So do you want to stay?" Mulder looked over to meet her eyes. "Yes, Scully. I want to stay."
Scully smiled in surprise at how much more confident he had become lately.
*^##$%
Later that day, Mulder drove his own car to group.
"Hey, Mulder, I see you got your cast off," Ben remarked.
"Yeah," he smiled. "I can drive again!"
The group leader, Scott, noticed Mulder's cheer. "You seem uncharacteristically happy today, Mulder. What's been going on?"
"I got my cast off...and I slept through the night without incident--alone--for the first time last night."
"Cool."
"That's great."
"You must feel very proud of that," Scott suggested.
Mulder blushed slightly. "Well, it's not like I should be necessarily proud. I mean, it's something any five year old should be able to do." His expression changed quickly. (God, is this what my life has been reduced to? Feeling triumphant about something any five-year-old can do? Jesus Christ-- )
"What is it?"
"Damn, I've just been so elated all morning, and I'm suddenly realising what my life has become. For Christ's sake, when did my life become this pitiful?"
"Your life isn't pitiful, Mulder," said Ben. "You went through a lot. You're just taking some time to get over it is all."
"I hate him," he said before he had realised it.
"Who?"
(Who? Krycek. Dad. Fuck, I don't know anymore. ) Mulder didn't answer.
Ben decided it was time. "You know, Mulder, you still haven't even told us anything that has happened to you. I don't want to push you, but I think it's something you need to do."
His sneaker began to dig into the carpet. "I...I told my counselor and Scully some."
"You haven't told us anything, though...is there anything you maybe don't want to discuss with them that you could talk about here? I mean, you don't have to re-tell something you've already talked about right now, but I think you need to tell us something. It is important for me to talk to others who have been through it. I don't feel as alone. It's made a huge difference for me."
Mulder sighed heavily. "I don't want to do this. I know I need to, but...well, I've been having a problem lately, and I guess it has something to do with what happened when I was a kid...I kind of backpedaled with this sexual thing with Scully...now I'm wanting to advance things a little...I'm just scared for her to touch me too much right now."
"Have you been able to touch yourself?"
His face reddened in embarrassment. "Uh...no. I don't want to right now. But, see I do want to touch her; it's somehow a safer starting point for me."
"Mulder, maybe you should get more comfortable with yourself before you move on to Scully," Scott suggested. "But we can talk about Scully right now. Why are you afraid to go any farther with her?"
"I'm just afraid that she'll touch back in a way I'm not ready for yet or..."
"Or what?" Ben asked.
"I don't know. I just have this totally irrational fear. I mean, she already told me she wouldn't ever touch me anywhere I didn't want her to until I told her I was ready. But...but I have this stupid fear that she'll...uh...go down on me? Don't ask why I think that; I mean I know she'll be so careful, I just have this dumb fear..."
"You don't know where it comes from?"
"No. I mean...no, I don't."
"Are you sure?"
He began to fidget more in his chair. "No. I mean, yeah...Oh, God. Well, my dad...did...sometimes."
"What?"
"He, uh...did...That."
"You're going to have to speak in terms we can all understand, Mulder," Chris added.
"Um, he...well, he did some...oral stuff...that really freaked me out." His head fell into his hands and he held his breath.
Scott noticed as Mulder began to tremble. "It's okay, Mulder."
"No, no it's not," he managed in a shaky voice.
"My brother did that," Ben admitted. "I know it's awful. I felt so perverted. Because I hated it, but also...well, it...felt kinda good also."
"I came," he whispered in shame.
Ben moved to sit next to him. "That's okay. I know you don't believe that, but you couldn't help it...I did too." He put a hand on Mulder's shoulder but pulled it away when Mulder flinched. "I'm sorry."
"I can't talk about this anymore right now."
"All right," Scott said. "You've done a lot today."
&%*^%
Mulder was bored out of his mind. Nothing was on TV, nothing seemed interesting. He began thinking about group the day before and how someone had mentioned experimenting on himself before he moved on to Scully. At first he was thinking it would be a wonderful way to pass some time, and he moved to the bathroom just in case Scully came home unexpectedly. However, as he unbuttoned his jeans, he became somewhat fearful. (Is this going to remind me of it? What if I can't get hard? Scully won't want me. What if-- )
He finally tried to ignore the thoughts in his head and continued. He pulled his jeans and boxers down and sat on the covered toilet. He looked down at himself but soon averted his eyes and took a deep breath. Tentatively he reached down and held himself with one of his hands. He began a slow stroking movement but wasn't getting aroused. He tried again, this time getting some lotion from the dispenser next to the sink. He tried some familiar strokes but still was not getting hard, even though he felt some building warmth. "Fuck this," he growled, his frustration getting the better of him. He gave up and returned to the TV screen.
^@$#$%
That night, he and Scully sat on the sofa watching some re-runs. They enjoyed some gentle cuddling before Mulder moved to kiss Scully. After a few minutes of some deep kissing, Scully pulled from Mulder and paused to ask him if this was okay. "Yeah," he said. This time he was telling the truth. He laid her back on the sofa gently and returned his mouth to her neck and ears. Scully groaned with pleasure, and he reached underneath her nightshirt to touch her breast. His hands were trembling, but his arousal outweighed his fear. He could feel Scully's heated breath on his ear and it made him shiver. He began to knead her breast with his hand as she trailed her fingers seductively along the back of his neck.
Soon he was tugging at her shirt, and Scully sat up to remove it. She gasped with unexpected pleasure as Mulder took her nipple into his mouth and began to suckle. "Mulder," she whispered. His hands made their way down her soft belly and into her underwear, pulling them off of her along with her sweatpants. Scully gasped as one of his fingers slid lightly across her clitoris. Mulder smiled at her reaction and moved his finger lower until he felt her wet warmth, when he slid his finger into her. He could feel her legs tighten around him as he pushed deeply inside her and much to his surprise, Mulder felt himself become erect. As he trailed light kisses down her stomach, Scully began to grip the pillows in her fists with anticipation. She hadn't expected Mulder to come near doing any of this. Suddenly, she felt his finger push deep inside of her, touching her very center, as his tongue slid seductively around her swollen clitoris. He fell into an agonisingly slow and intense rhythm that made Scully's mind reel. Mulder enjoyed the taste of her, feeling her soft, wet muscles tighten around him with pleasure. He removed his finger and slid his tongue inside her. "Oh, God," she moaned as he felt her insides quiver around his yielding tongue. Soon after, he felt her orgasm as her softness contracted several times around his tongue.
"My God, Mulder. You're amazing," Scully breathed.
Mulder smiled happily as he held Scully tenderly, feeling her warmth through his sweater. (I made her do that. ME. I made her feel like that. ) Mulder regained a lot of confidence that night.
&%@$%^
A few days later, Mulder woke up feeling sick. Although grateful he had had another dry night, he felt like shit...but he didn't want Scully to know, lest she go full force into doctor mode.
When he gingerly walked into the kitchen, Scully picked up on his painful gait, his flushed face. "Mulder, are you sick?" she asked, approaching him with her hand ready to feel his forehead. He brushed it away as he sat down.
"I'm fine, Scully," he lied. He felt like he was about to puke, and every inch of his body ached.
Scully watched him suspiciously until she had to leave for work. "You call me if you need anything, Mulder." "Okay, okay, Scully. I'm fine," he grumbled as he fought the urge to curl up on the sofa. He would not give her the satisfaction of being right.
However, as soon as the door shut, he brought the comforter from his bed into the living room , placing it on the couch with the remote control and a box of Kleenex. He settled into his nest and began his own private sick ritual. It started as almost-silent grunts and escalated to full blown, pitiful groans of misery. For some ridiculous reason, it made him feel a little better.
Throughout the day he became more restless as he tossed and turned with feverish pain. Every time he tried to eat, he threw up. Around six, Scully came home to find him tucked into the fetal position, moaning without restraint, covered in blankets and sweat, with Kleenex strewn all over the floor. "Mulder!" she gasped.
He had come to that point in sickness where dignity no longer mattered to him. He didn't care how pitiful he most have sounded groaning and whimpering. He didn't even shove Scully's hand away when she pressed it to his forehead. Her cool touch quieted his whimpering for a brief moment.
"Mulder, you're burning up!" She rushed to the bathroom to retrieve a thermometer. Sitting down beside his head, she placed it underneath his tongue. "Hold that in place." Mulder protested at the simple task, knowing the pain and nausea any type of movement would bring. But when Scully shot him her stern doctor look, he complied.
Scully pulled back his covers to take his pulse. Returning to his head, she studied his brightly flushed cheeks and ears, and ran her fingers through his hair, wet with cold sweat. "Mulder, dammit. Why didn't you call me? Are you throwing up?"
He nodded, sending waves of intense pain throughout his entire head.
Scully retrieved the thermometer and sighed. "102. I'll get you some Tylenol for that fever." She returned with two Tylenol and a glass of water. "Here, take these."
Not long after he took the pills, Mulder took off for the bathroom and hurled into the toilet. (Oh, God. There's nothing worse than the flu. I'd rather be shot in the leg again. ) Picturing all that blood caused another wave of nausea.
"Oh, Mulder." Scully stood in the doorway for a moment before she found a washrag to wet down for him. She poured some water for him and after he'd rinsed out his mouth, she knelt down to tenderly wipe the fear-scented sweat from his hot face. "It's okay."
(Kill me now. Just kill me now. This is hell. ) He began to shiver again and returned to the couch.
The night became worse as it went on. Since his stomach would not accept the Tylenol, the fever continued to rise.
The next morning Scully took him to his doctor, who gave him a prescription for the fever and nausea. "I'm afraid that's all I can do to help. The flu just has to run its course. It's important that he drinks lots of fluids, and he should be able to do that once the nausea lowers with the medication. If his fever hits 104, take him to the ER."
Scully nodded. She was a doctor and knew there wasn't much the medical profession could do, but as she looked at her suffering partner, she had to restrain herself from lashing out at the doctor.
After stopping by the pharmacy, Scully helped Mulder upstairs and returned him to his nest. He had become unaware of what was going on around him, lost somewhere in the fever, pain and deliriousness. She laid him down on the sofa and kissed his forehead. "It's okay, Mulder. You'll be better soon, I promise."
Mulder groaned in misery and pulled the covers around his neck, trying unconsciously to soothe himself. Scully returned to the kitchen table where she had tossed the prescription bag. She pulled the bottle out and opened it, not realising until then what the prescription was. "Oh, my God," she whispered. (I didn't even think...Christ, how is he going to handle this? ) She returned to the sofa and sat down on the floor next to him. "Mulder?" she called, brushing his hair gently from his wet face. "Mulder, sweetie?...can you hear me?" (Oh, God, please let him hear me, so he can do this himself. Please... ) His eyes remained closed, and she couldn't tell if he had understood her. She took a deep breath. "Mulder, honey...your fever is dangerously high, and your nausea won't let you take pills..." She tearfully stroked his wet hair. "We have to lower your fever...since you can't take pills, you have to take suppositories." She waited for a response but didn't get one. "Sweetheart, do you understand?"
With shaking hands, she pulled his blanket from him and put her hand on his arm. "Mulder. Mulder, you need to lie on your other side, sweetheart. Turn over." When he didn't move, she pulled at him until he had turned to face the back of the sofa. "Mulder, I need to pull your underwear down. Is this okay?" (Oh, God please let him be too delirious to know what's going on. Please. Please do that for him. ) She tugged his underpants down and pulled his knees up. "Forgive me, Mulder," she whispered.
When she was done and saw that Mulder was still oblivious to the world, she breathed a sigh of relief, re-dressed him and covered him back up. She then squeezed him tightly and kissed the top of his head. "It's all right, Mulder. It's okay."
About an hour later, his restlessness quieted and he seemed to go into a real sleep.
^%**#%!@
He could smell food cooking. slowly he opened his eyes and let out a groan as the pain and nausea came back.
Scully's ears perked up. "Mulder? Are you awake?"
"Unfortunately," he responded painfully.
She padded across the apartment to his side. "How are you feeling?" she asked with concern.
"Like shit."
"I'll get the thermometer."
"I want to puke."
She handed him the thermometer and he put it in his mouth. He sighed heavily.
"Mulder, do you remember going to the doctor?"
He nodded his head.
"Do you remember coming back here?"
He thought a moment and shook his head, no.
When Scully appeared relieved, Mulder looked at her questioningly.
"Well, your fever was very high. You seemed pretty delirious, and your stomach wouldn't allow you to take pills."
He looked at her as if to say, "So what?"
She took the thermometer out of his mouth and checked it. "Down to 102.5. That's a little better."
Mulder watched her fidget nervously with the thermometer. This was quite unlike Scully. "What's wrong?"
"Uh...Mulder..." She looked up and asked him, "Do you think you could try to take the Tylenol again?"
His stomach turned at the thought, and he leapt for the bathroom. "I guess that answers that question." She followed him and when he was finished and cleaned up, he leaned against the cabinet, ghostly pale. "Mulder, we have to get your fever down."
She left for the kitchen and returned with the prescription. "Um, Mulder...you need to take these...I...I had to do this for you earlier, and I'm so sorry. Luckily you were too out of it to know what was going on. Now that you're awake, I think you'd better take over in this department. " She handed him the bottle.
He took it and opened it. He froze. "Uh...um...do I...have to take these?"
Scully looked away and shook her head. "We have to get the fever down, and also the nausea, so you don't get dehydrated."
He thought a minute. "Wait...you said...uh...you...did this earlier?" He was horrified.
Scully could see the terror in his eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't have a choice," she whispered.
"That's okay," he mumbled, wanting to crawl into a cave and die. His hand began trembling. "Okay, Scully. I'll be out in a minute."
She closed the door behind her.
(Jesus Christ. I can't...oh God, this is not happening. ) With trembling hands he pulled his shorts off. (I'm just going to get this over with. ) He inserted the suppository. Something snapped.
CRASH!!
Scully jumped, dropping the spoon she was using to stir the soup.
"GODDAMMIIIIIIIT!!"
Then she heard a deafening, rageful scream. She was finally shaken from her shock and rushed to the bathroom. The door was locked. "MULDER! OPEN THE DOOR!" When he didn't open it she broke it down and was horrified by what she saw. "PUT THAT DOWN, MULDER!!"
The mirror was shattered all over the room. He held a large, jagged piece of it at his throat. He had already cut open both of his wrists, the angry blood flowing down his hands and onto the floor.
His hand was shaking at his throat and blood seeped from where he held the point. "Mulder, stop. Put it down. Please, Mulder," she pleaded. If she had been a second later, he would have already done it. He was going to die of blood loss soon if she couldn't get him to drop the glass so she could call the paramedics. So she tried the one thing she knew would work on him. "Mulder, don't do this to me," she pleaded shakily.
A moment of sanity flashed in his eyes and he dropped the glass. Scully sprinted to the phone. "I need a paramedic here NOW! A federal agent has just slashed his wrists. GET SOMEONE HERE NOW!" She slammed the phone back down and ran back to the bathroom where Mulder still stood, shock in his eyes.
Scully rushed back to the bathroom to Mulder, who was now in shock. "Jesus, Mulder!" The damage was worse than it originally looked. Blood ran quickly down his arms and onto the floor, staining the rest of his body on its way down. He began to sway with lightheadedness, and Scully caught him and pulled him carefully away from the broken glass and laid him on the floor. Quickly she took his left hand, knowing that that would be where his first and worst cut would be, and turned his arm over. "Mulder!" The deeply jagged gash ran almost the entire length of his forearm. Scully switched to doctor mode, knowing that panicking could endanger his life right now. She grabbed a towel from the bathroom and held it tightly over the wound to suppress the blood flow as she turned his other wrist over. This slice wasn't as deep as the other, but his hand was bleeding profusely from the intensity with which he had held the piece of glass.
Still putting pressure on his worst wound, she took his pulse only to find it slow and weak. "Mulder, hang on for me. Please, Mulder. They'll be here soon. It's okay." The towel was soaked with the warm life leaving his body. "Mulder, please. Please stay with me. Hang on, for just a bit longer."
The paramedics soon arrived and took over for Scully. Everything suddenly felt like a dream to her then, and she was only vaguely aware of riding in the ambulance to the hospital. As Mulder was taken into the OR, she hazily filled out paperwork and signed forms.
When she finally sat down to wait, she began to come out of her daze. A doctor approached her and let her know that Mulder was in the OR getting stitched up and receiving blood. "You caught it just in time, Miss Scully. He's a lucky man. He'll be okay. We've called his psychiatrist, Dr. Sawyer. She will be here shortly."
Scully nodded through tears of relief and worry. She immediately went to the payphone to call her mom. "Mom?"
"Dana, what's wrong?" Maggie could hear the fear and tears in her voice.
"It's Mulder, Mom. He...tried to kill himself. I'm at the hospital right now."
"Oh, my God."
"They said he's going to make it, but Mom, it was so awful. So..."
"What happened?"
"He just exploded. He apparently hit the bathroom mirror and used one of the pieces to slice his wrists...well, forearms actually. When I busted in the door, he had almost just slit his throat when I caught him...Oh, Mom--" She couldn't get any more words out.
"Dana, I'll be right there. Which hospital?"
"Calumet Mercy."
"I'm on my way."
"Thanks, Mom."
Scully sat down to wait for Dr. Sawyer to arrive. The ER wasn't very busy, and a nurse came over to her and brought her some decaf coffee. "Thank you."
"You just let me know if you need anything."
Scully smiled back up at her.
A little bit later, Dr. Sawyer arrived and sat next to Scully. "Is he okay?"
She cleared her throat. "Yeah, he's gonna be all right."
Dr. Sawyer let out a sigh of relief. "Scully, what happened?"
"Oh, God. He just sliced himself up. There was blood everywhere. it took like five seconds. Okay..." She took a deep breath. "He's really sick. He got a bad case of the flu and had a high temp and lots of vomiting. I took him to the doctor and then picked up the prescription but didn't notice...so we got home, and he was completely out of it. I went to get the scrip from the kitchen, and when I opened it I realised...they were suppositories. I hadn't even thought about it until then...I mean, Krycek..." She trailed off before getting the strength to begin again. "He wasn't answering me. I tried to get him to answer, but he...so I had to do it for him. It just about killed me, I was so worried that I'd freak him out. But he didn't have a clue. So he woke up later and seemed fine, mentally. I asked him if he could take the Tylenol, and he ran to the toilet to puke."
She stopped again, and Dr. Sawyer put a reassuring hand on her back. "I took the scrip in to him and told him what was going on. He looked horrified when he found out that I had given it to him. Then he told me he'd do it and be out in a minute. A minute later, I heard the crash of the mirror. I had to break the door down, and he was standing there with both of his arms slashed and the a piece of glass held to his throat. I mean, if I had been a second later, he..." She broke into tears.
Just then, Maggie arrived to find her daughter crying. "Dana, I'm here." She held Dana close to her and tried her best to comfort her.
*$^#%
Mulder came out of surgery fine, and his surgeon came to talk to her. "He should pull through just fine. He may take a bit longer to heal since his immune system is also at work fighting that nasty flu he has, but he will make it. However, the cuts were pretty deep, and--"
(Oh, my God. Neurological damage. I didn't even think. )
"He may have some nerve damage in his hands. We won't know the extent of it for a while."
(His right hand. His gun. Field Agent status. This can't happen to him. ) Scully began to tremble with worry as her mother held her hand. "Mom, he can't...he can't lose anything in his right hand, Mom. He can't--he'll lose his Field Agent status, Mom."
"Dana, let's just see what happens, okay? He may turn out to be just fine."
The surgeon added, "He will be sent to room 502 when he gets out of post-op. That's the psychiatric floor, and Dr. Sawyer can take over mostly from there."
When the surgeon left, Scully turned to Dr. Sawyer. "What's going to happen to him?"
"I'm not sure, Scully. It will depend on how he reacts when he wakes up. It sounds to me like this incident somehow flashed him back to what Krycek had done, and it seems to have released his rage. When he wakes up, he may be quite violent, despite his weakened condition. He'll probably have to be sedated until his body can heal itself. It will probably be a tough road from here. I hate to do it, but I'm going to order restraints until I'm sure he won't hurt himself. He could do damage very easily with his injuries. Even the restraints will be dangerous so close to his wounds. That's another reason why I think he may have to be sedated for a while. I don't like to sedate patients unless it's really necessary, and here I think it's imperative until his cuts can heal."
"He doesn't like restraints."
"I know, Scully. But after he wakes up from surgery and we can asses his condition more accurately, I don't plan on having him aware enough to really care about them...I'm really going to hit him hard with the sedatives. But when the physical danger is gone, we're going to have to deal with his rage. And, Scully, I think it will be enormous. Just prepare yourself."
Scully nodded wearily and waited.
)&($&^
As soon as Mulder was put into his room, Scully sat vigil at his bedside. After a few hours, he began to make quiet noises, and she had the nurses get Dr. Sawyer. "I think he's waking up," she told the doctor.
A few minutes later, he wearily opened his eyes, and Scully touched his shoulder. "Mulder? Can you hear me?"
His eyes began to focus on her. He tried to move his arms and found he couldn't. A panic hit him and he was suddenly awake. "Untie me. NOW."
"Mulder, don't worry. It's--" "UNTIE ME! GET THESE THINGS OFF ME NOW!!" He began to fight all of the restraints, sending shooting pains through his arms, but the pain did not deter him. "GET 'EM OFF!! LET ME GO NOW!! GET 'EM OFF! GET 'EM OFF!!"
Scully was stunned. Dr. Sawyer broke in. "Mulder, calm down. You're okay. Those are just to keep you from hurting yours--"
"FUCK OFF!! GET THESE OFF ME NOW! GODDAMMIT, NOW!" He was frantic now, and Dr. Sawyer sent the nurse for a heavy dose of Ativan.
"Mulder, it's okay. Just calm down for a minute."
"DON'T FUCKING TELL ME TO CALM DOWN, YOU BITCH! LET ME GO!"
Scully was shocked silent.
Dr. Sawyer took the syringe from the nurse and plunged it into his IV. "DON'T PUT ME OUT, GODDAMMIT! FUCK YOU!" Those were the last screams he managed. The drug quickly warmed his brain and relaxed him. His eyes became droopy and he was silent.
"Shhh. You'll be okay," the doctor whispered, stroking his hair for a moment until she was sure he was sedated.
&$%#
She turned her focus from Mulder to Scully. "Are you okay?"
Scully's breath had turned ragged and she stared at Mulder's unconscious form with shocked eyes. "I...I've never seen anything like that. He had just been under anaesthetic. He lost all that blood and...how could he have the strength to fight like that?"
"Well, I was expecting that. From what he had just done to himself; the primal, blinding rage he must have felt to have done that...Let me explain something. What happened with Krycek, in addition to the trauma that caused him, it brought up a lot of memories for him. And aside from a few outbursts he's been extremely depressed, dependent, listless. It's his way of suppressing the anger he has about what has happened to him. Feelings don't just disappear. If they're not dealt with, they're stored in the body. He's stored about 35 years worth of anger, and when Krycek raped him it triggered those feelings and started stirring them up. His first reaction has been some really deep fear. That was expressed in his nightmares, the bedwetting, his childlike dependence on you. What happened with the suppositories today triggered what's called a body memory. It probably felt very similar to his body as what Krycek did. And I think that reaction tapped into all the anger he has held inside of him about the things Krycek and his father did to him.
"From his initial reaction being so intensely violent, he'll have to spend some time in inpatient psychiatric."
Scully wanted to protest, but she knew he needed to be watched so that he didn't attempt suicide again. "What's going to happen to him?"
Dr. Sawyer sat next to Scully with a sympathetic look. "He's going to go through hell. I can't sugarcoat this for you. With Mulder, I'm expecting that for a while he will spend all his energy lashing out at people, trying to destroy things, trying to kill himself." She noticed Scully's tears and tried to give her some hope. "We'll help him through this. He'll make it. He'll get better, Scully."
Scully nodded and took a shaky breath. "What happens when he wakes up again?"
"He won't. Not until his body can heal enough to handle the rough treatment he's likely to give it. We'll monitor him closely and not allow him to become aware enough to know what's going on. He'll be conscious sometimes, but won't care much about what's happening."
"What do I do when he's...semi-conscious?"
"Talk to him. He will probably be a little frightened but won't have the strength to tell you. Comfort him; let him know you're there, that everything's being taken care of and he has nothing to worry about right now."
She went to his bed and carefully removed his restraints. "We won't need these for now, I don't think. The nurses are monitoring him from the station and will pay close attention to when he's coming out of it." She petted Mulder's hair again. "We'll take care of you, Fox. You'll be okay." Turning to Scully, she said, "I'll check back in later to see how he's doing."
"Thank you."
Maggie came in the room as Dr. Sawyer left. "Dana? How is he?"
Scully explained to her mom what she had just heard, and Maggie hugged her daughter and asked her to go home and get some rest.
"Mom, I can't do that. I need to be here for him."
"Dana, Dr. Sawyer just told you how sedated he's going to be. He won't be aware enough to know you're not here all the time. And don't you think you need to save your strength for after he comes out of this? He'll really need you then. you might as well get your rest now, honey."
"Mom, but what about when he starts to come out of it?"
"Whenever you're not here, I'll be right here with him, okay? I've adopted him as my own, and I'll be here to help you both through this. Dana, go home and get some sleep. You've been through so much today."
Scully sighed wearily. "Okay. I'll get some rest." She went to Mulder's side to say goodnight. "I'm going to get some rest now, Mulder. Mom will be here with you until I get back. Work on getting better, partner." She leaned down and whispered softly in his ear, "I love you," and kissed him tenderly on his forehead.
After Scully had reluctantly left, Maggie pulled up a chair close to Mulder's bedside and caressed his cheek. "I'm here, Fox. Mom's here and I'll be right here until Dana comes back. I love you, my beautiful son."
Mulder sighed in his sleep.
*%^#@#
Several days later, Dr. Sawyer believed that Mulder's body was healthy enough to bring him out of sedation. Scully and Maggie were both nervous to see how he was going to react and also to see what kind of nerve damage there may have been to his hands. When his monitors let everyone know that he was coming to the surface, Dr. Sawyer came to his room to see what was going to happen.
While they were all waiting on him, Scully asked her mother if she and Mulder could stay at her home for a while when he got out of the hospital. "Of course, Dana. I always love to have both of you around," she smiled. However, their conversation was cut short by movements Mulder began to make.
Scully grabbed her mother's arm. "He's waking up, Mom."
WELL, I'm stopping here! I will try my best to get the next section out soon, but school is very busy…Hope you liked this one—PLEASE, PLEASE let me know what you thought.
tyger1013@yahoo.com Thanks for reading!