From: "Angela Malmberg" Date: Sat, 27 Nov 1999 18:01:28 +0100 Subject: "Chosen" by Angela C.J. Wettergren Source: direct Title: Chosen Author: Angela C.J. Wettergren E-mail: Starbuck79@hotmail.com or angela.w@spray.se Website: http://www.angelfire.com/ms/starbuck79 Rating: NC-17 Category: S/R/A Spoilers: Up to Emily Keywords: Mulder/Scully Romance, Rape Summary: He was 'the chosen'. He chose her. But her partner had something else in mind. Sometimes love is stronger than destiny. Started: 97-12-13 Finished: 99-11-11 (I know, I'm a slow writer. I did finish this thing a long time ago, but I wasn't happy with it, so I started doing re-writings this summer. And now it's finished. :o)) Archive: Yes, if you want to. Drop me a line first so I know where it goes? I like to visit. :o) Disclaimer: Dana Scully, Fox Mulder, Margaret Scully and Walter Skinner do not belong to me. They belong to Chris Carter, FOX Network, 1013 Productions, and to the wonderful actors who portray them. However, all of the other characters do belong to me. Warning: This story contains a rape-scene, and while not very explicit, it can be disturbing. Dedications and thanks: To Linda, for being such a great friend. Your weird postcards and envelopes always brighten my day. *mwah*! Also thank you for beta-reading this story for me the first time around. To Dark Angel and Maureen, my two beta-readers the second time around. I really needed someone to help me through the process, and there you both were. ::hugs:: Also to everyone who's sent me feedback as this story went along. Without you I wouldn't have felt half as eager to finish the story. Feedback: Yes, *please*. There's not much that brightens my day more than getting feedback. Come on, it will only take you a couple of seconds. ;o) Author's notes: At the end of the story. * * * * * * * * * * * "Chosen" By: Angela C.J. Wettergren * * * * * * * * * * * He had secret powers, and he knew about them. Once he had walked right into a gang fight by mistake, and had been hit by a bullet. When the paramedics got there, they had asked him if it was all a joke. There had been nothing for them to do there. There was no trace of him being shot, except for the hole in his shirt and the small spot of blood. It was then he had known. He had the capability to heal himself. He was chosen. Since then he had feared nothing, so he had been testing his limits to maximum, always putting himself in dangerous situations. He had now survived 21 gunshot wounds, 15 knife wounds, and once he had even thrown himself in front of a speeding car. He had later heard that the driver had been taken into hospital for severe shock, and was now in a psychiatric ward for unknown time. Apparently no one had believed him when he said that he had hit someone with his car in 90 miles per hour, and the man he had hit had just got up and walked away from the accident like nothing had happened at all. He believed the driver. Of course he believed him. He had been the one who was hit, so of course he believed. He remembered the incident like it had been yesterday it happened, and not two years ago. The car had hit him with such force he had been thrown over 10 yards through the air, but it hadn't even hurt him one bit. The driver of the car got so frustrated when no one believed his story, and he eventually lost his mind. He couldn't care less. If your mind was that weak, you didn't deserve any better. He would never let himself sink that low. Never. Because he was chosen. * * * * He was completely focusing all his attention on the woman standing at the podium, speaking. He wasn't listening to her, and he didn't care what she was talking about either. All he was interested in was how her lips moved as she spoke, how her deep blue eyes sparkled in the light, how her auburn hair moved over her shoulders as she turned around to write something on the board behind her. He sat up in the back of the big lecture room, but he didn't have to sit any closer to be able to see the woman's every face expression. He had excellent eyesight. Another one of his gifts. She was very intelligent, the woman, he knew. He had known from the very first second he saw her that she was as intelligent as she was beautiful. Finally the woman said, "OK, guys! Class is over. I'll see you all tomorrow." The others gave her a round of applause, but he just sat still, never leaving her slender form with his eyes. They all loved her. Sometimes he talked to some of the others, and they always talked about the woman; about how great they thought she was. How understanding and intelligent she was. Almost every guy in the class had a major crush on her. He already knew all these things, so he had soon grown tired of talking to them, and now mostly kept to himself. "Great lecture, wasn't it?" It was the girl who sat next to him on his right side. He didn't look away from the red haired woman with the blue eyes, and said, "Yeah, great." He knew that the girl to his right had a thing for him, some kind of crush if you wanted to call it that, which he didn't. He didn't believe in crushes. He only believed in what was supposed to be. He didn't like the girl. He didn't like her at all. She was tall with long brown hair. She wore far too much make-up for his taste, and provocative clothing. No, he didn't like her at all. She was so obvious with her intentions it was ridiculous. He liked *her*. The woman with the red hair and blue eyes. The woman who was short, who didn't wear too much make-up or provocative clothing, like the other girl who probably thought she looked sexy as hell, but only looked like a whore in his eyes. Today was the day the red haired woman was going to become his. Today was the day for the chosen to choose his woman. And he had. * * * * Dana Scully was putting all her notes together. The lecture today had been good, and she felt as if her students really appreciated her, and listened to what she had to say. They had even given her applause, which wasn't something that happened very often in a place like this. She was filling in for Professor Henderson, who was on sick-leave for three months, and Scully had now been back at Quantico for over two months already. First she had been doing it as a favor to the professor, because she was one of his old students and he had come to her for help. She had complained about it to Mulder, said that she didn't want to go back to Quantico again, but right now she was actually enjoying herself. She had been lucky and had a good group of young men and women to teach. They were all so eager to listen to her when she told them about some of the cases she and Mulder had dealt with on the X-files, and they only thought it was cool that she was "Mrs. Spooky". Mulder had come by a couple of times to pick her up after work, when he wanted her opinion on something or just simply missed her company, and the students had made them both stay for more than two extra hours both times. They had refused to let Scully and Mulder go before they had all the answers to their questions about the X-files. Mulder had seemed happy that someone actually cared, and he had answered all of the questions with great enthusiasm. When he told them about his crazy theories on some of their cases, Scully only smiled and said to the students, "See? This is what I have to listen to everyday." Mulder and all the students had laughed together. Yeah, even though it was pretty fun to be working here again for a little while, she couldn't wait to get back to work with Mulder. He was out of town on a case, and she missed him terribly. He had called her the night before and told her how nice it was to not have someone around all the time who was always laughing at his theories. Scully smiled to herself. She knew that Mulder missed having her around as well. Suddenly someone knocked at the door to the office. She looked at her watch. It was already 9.30 p.m. Who could it be at this hour? "Come in!" she said loudly so the person on the other side would hear her, and the door opened. It was one of her students. She could recognize him, but couldn't remember his name. "Hello," she said to him, still gathering her notes from the desk. "Is there something I can do for you?" She didn't know what it was, but something about the young man made her feel uncomfortable in the small office. When he didn't say anything, she asked him again, "Is there something I can do for you?" Still he said nothing. He turned around to the door again, and for a second Scully thought he might leave. Instead he locked the door, and put away the key in his pocket. "What are you doing?" Scully asked, trying to reassure herself that this was only one of her students coming into her office to ask her something about the day's class. But she had the strangest feeling, and was beginning to feel a little frightened. At least she had her gun if it would come to that. Finally he spoke, but the second she heard his voice, Scully wished he hadn't. "Come here," he said to her. His voice sounded like nothing she had ever heard before. It was low and high at the same time. Dark and light. Young and old. It was frightening. Scully didn't move, and the man said again, "Come here," this time more forcefully. "What do you want?" Scully asked, surprised that her voice was still working. She couldn't explain it, she couldn't explain what she was feeling, but she knew that this man would hurt her of she didn't stop him first. She quickly pulled her gun out and aimed it at him. "Stop right there and tell me what you want," she said with a steady voice. But the man didn't seem to be too bothered by the fact that she was pointing a gun at him. He just grinned at her and kept on moving towards her, slowly. That grin was the most frightening thing Dana Scully had ever seen. She could literally feel the evil radiate from him as he was still moving towards her. "Stop right there, or I'll shoot!" This time she yelled at him. The man just laughed at her and didn't stop. Scully aimed at his right leg and fired. The bullet ripped through the flesh, and she could hear a bone being crushed, but he didn't even wince. One tiny little drop of blood became visible on his trousers, but that was it. He still hadn't stopped. Scully fired her gun again, this time in his chest. Still, it didn't seem to affect him one bit. He was still coming towards her, slowly, still having that awful grin on his face. Scully gasped loudly. Who the hell was this?! *What* the hell was this?! She once again fired her gun, this time aiming at his heart. She knew she had hit her target, but nothing happened to him. Her gun was to no use to her. She fired the rest of the bullets. At least he wouldn't be able to use her own gun against her. Then she threw it away and pulled up her cellular phone instead, intending to dial 911. But before she could even react, the man had thrown himself over her and knocked her to the floor. She dropped her phone and he kicked it out of her reach. She tried to get up on her feet again, but he just pushed her back to the floor and told her to be still. Scully tried to kick him between his legs, but he caught her foot before she did and straddled her legs, pinning them down with his bodyweight. She tried to hit him with her fists, but he caught them as well and tied her up with a small rope he pulled out from his jacket. Scully knew what he was about to do to her, and she said, "Please don't do this. We can work this out. Please let me go." He only laughed at her again. "Dear Dana," he said, "you know I can't let you go. I have chosen you." "Please..." "Please? Please what, Dana? You should be feeling honored, Dana. I am the chosen, and *I* have chosen *you*." What the hell was he talking about?! "Please... Just let me go. You don't want to do this." "I like it when you're begging me, Dana," he said. "But yes, I want to do this. As I said, I have chosen you, and today is the day you will finally become mine." He grabbed her blouse and slowly opened it button by button. "You are so beautiful, Dana." He was touching her everywhere, and if Scully hadn't been so afraid, she probably would have vomited. "Don't. Touch. Me." she hissed through her clenched teeth. "But Dana, how could I possibly *not* touch you?" Scully closed her eyes tight. She couldn't bear the sight of him and his grin. He looked completely psychotic, which he probably was as well. Then she felt his hand running down her face, and she took her chance to catch him off guard, and bit him hard in the hand. She should have known. He didn't even seem to register pain. How could she have thought that biting him in the hand would do something, when he hadn't even reacted to being hit by three bullets? Scully felt the tears building up under her eyelids, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Instead she decided to fight him till the end. "Help!!" she screamed as loud as she could, in hope that someone would walk by and hear her. But there was really no point in screaming. The security guards almost never came by this way, and right before the man had come into the office, she had been talking to the guard who was on duty tonight. Bill. That had been his name. A really nice man. God she wished he was here right now. The man who was sitting on top of her apparently knew this as well, because he didn't even try to stop her from screaming. He was moving his hands to her skirt, and he drew it up, stroking her legs. Scully tried to kick him again, even though she knew it would do no good. The man stayed calm, and just watched her fighting him. She had such a strong will. That was good. Then he ripped of her panties, becoming more forceful than before. Scully screamed again, but no one could hear her except for the man. He was leaning down towards her face, but Scully spat him in the face and the man drew back again. "You shouldn't be doing that, Dana," he said to her. "Didn't I tell you that you should feel honored?" "You're fucking insane!" Scully screamed at him. What the hell did he mean, she should feel honored?! He was about to fucking rape her! He then pulled down his trousers. Scully closed her eyes again. She didn't want to see. The next thing she knew, he was forcing himself into her small body, and she screamed. She screamed like she had never screamed before. She screamed as if she would never be able to stop screaming again. * * * * Bill Gough was walking through the long halls of the building. Then he suddenly remembered that he had forgotten his communications radio in Agent Scully's office. he thought. He sighed and turned around, walking down to the other side of the hallway. His steps were heavy and slow. He was so sick of this job. Endless evenings and nights of walking up and down the same hallways, over and over again. The only high-light of this night, had been when he was talking to that nice Agent Scully. She was such a nice lady. Too bad she probably still wouldn't be in her office when he got back there. When he had left the first time, she had been putting all her things together, and that had been an hour ago. She had probably gone home ages ago by now. He wished he could be at home too. At home with his wife and family, who were so patient with his work here. At least they had something to live on, even though they didn't get much time together. Someday he would change that. His dream was to become an FBI agent. Just like that nice Agent Scully. * * * * Bill was still walking slowly through the hallways, as he suddenly heard something. It was someone screaming. He quickened his pace, and started running. He grabbed his gun from its holster on his right hip, and moved towards where the sound was coming from. Then he realized that it was coming from Agent Scully's office. He rounded the last corner, and saw that the door to the office stood open. He could hear someone screaming, and it was like nothing he had ever heard before. The scream had such fear and pain in it, that it almost made his blood freeze. He stopped right outside the office, in case someone with a weapon was still in there. He carefully looked into the room, but could see no one. He then stepped into the office, and rounded the desk. What he saw there would forever haunt him in his dreams. Agent Scully was lying on the floor, with her shirt opened wide, her skirt rolled up around her waist and her panties were ripped off. He looked around the office once more to make sure no one else was there, and then sat down next to the woman lying on the floor. She had her face turned towards him, but her eyes were closed tightly together, as if she was trying to shut the world out. In that second, he knew what he would have to live with for the rest of his life. For the rest of his life, he would wake up, and the first thing he would see in front of his eyes, would be her face. That expression she had on her face. Like she had experienced something so horrible, she would rather die than ever feel anything again. He would have to live with that. And her scream. That scream would forever be ringing in his ears. He would hear it while he was awake, and he would hear it in his nightmares. It bored itself down to the core of his soul, and it would stay there until the day he died. "Agent Scully?" He tried to talk to her, to make her listen, but she didn't. Her scream never faded, never got less stronger or less terrifying. He tried again. "Agent Scully? It's Bill. I'm not gonna hurt you. Agent Scully?" He kept his voice soft and low, unsure if she could even hear him through her screams, but not wanting to raise it, in case she might think he was someone else. In case she might mistake him for the person who had hurt her like this. He realized that he probably shouldn't touch her right now, so he stood up from her side and went to pick up the phone, on which he dialed 911. "Get an ambulance to Quantico right now," he said to the operator, and then hung up to once again crouch next to the woman on the floor. His soul cried out for her, and he knew, that if it had been a matter of his own life, or to let this woman go trough all this pain, he would even kill himself if it came to that. * * * * Margaret Scully was sitting next to her daughter's bedside at the hospital. Her eyes were filled with tears, but she refused to let them spill over. She had to be strong for her daughter, even if she was now in deep sleep. She had to be strong. She looked at Dana's face again. It was still full of such angst. Such pain. Not even sleep seemed to let her escape it. She turned her gaze away again. She couldn't stand seeing her daughter in such agony, but she had to be in the room with her. To lend her strength to her baby girl. The paramedics had been forced to give her something to calm her down, that was why she was still sleeping. They hadn't been able to make her stop screaming. She thought back to the conversation she had had with the guard who had found Dana. he had told her. At first she hadn't believed him. Well, she had believed him, why would he lie, but she couldn't understand it. Dana hadn't been able to stop screaming? That wasn't like her daughter. She would have expected her to get up herself, and get to the hospital without anyone's help. Dana was so strong. She had such willpower. Always been able to take care of herself, and had made that perfectly clear to the people around her as well. That she had just been lying on the floor in her office, screaming, was something Margaret Scully couldn't even imagine. And when Bill Gough had continued to explain, she was glad she couldn't imagine it. he had asked her. Margaret had simply nodded. And so was she. When she thought of her daughter, she didn't want to hear that scream mixed with the memories of her. What was she thinking?! Memories of her?! It was as if she thought her daughter had left this life, and would never come back! She was still here. Her Dana was still here. She once again looked over at her daughter, and this time she didn't turn her gaze away from her. Dana was trying to say something. Margaret leaned in closer to be able to hear what her daughter was mumbling in her sleep. "Mulder..." It was lower than a whisper, but Margaret had heard her. "Mulder..." Dana mumbled again. Margaret got up from her chair and walked out the room. Two guards were standing outside for protection. In case the bastard who did this returned. "Where can I find Assistant Director Skinner?" she asked one of them. He simply pointed to the other end of the corridor. Margaret turned around, and there he was. He was talking to the guard who had found Dana, Bill Gough. She quickly walked over to them, and she turned directly to Skinner. "Where is Fox?" she asked him. "Why isn't he here?" When she saw the expression on Skinner's face she said, "What? Just tell me, where is he?" Skinner looked as if he wanted to fall through the floor. "What?" she asked him again. "Mrs. Scully... " "Just tell me! Is there something wrong? Has something happened to Fox?" Skinner shook his head. "No Mrs. Scully. I'm sure Agent Mulder is just fine. He doesn't know what has happened yet." Margaret looked up at him as if she couldn't believe what he was telling her. "What do you mean, 'he doesn't know what has happened yet?' Haven't you been able to reach him?" Skinner looked very uncomfortable. "I..." "Dana is asking for him in her sleep," Margaret said. "She needs him right now. Where is he?" "I'm sorry, Mrs. Scully," Skinner said. "I've... I've completely forgotten to call him." He couldn't believe himself that he had been so stupid! "You what?!" Mrs. Scully exclaimed. "You have forgotten to call Fox?! You forgot to call the most important person in Dana's life?!" Then she forced herself to calm down, and said in a lower voice, "Well then, Assistant Director Skinner. Since you don't seem to be able to do anything right, I guess I'll have to get him here myself." Then she left the two men standing there, watching her as she walked back into Dana's room. * * * * Dana was in a dark place, somewhere deep inside herself. She didn't want to return. She was throwing her head from side to side, trying to escape the face she saw in front of her eyes. But she couldn't. She couldn't escape. The man grinned at her, that awful grin, and it was then Dana decided that she wouldn't remember. * * * * Margaret was able to reach Fox Mulder right away. She had just called him on his cellular phone and told him that Dana was in the hospital, and that she needed him there. He had demanded that she'd tell him what was wrong, but she only told him that he would get to know everything as soon as he got there. She didn't want him to know what had happened yet, because she knew that he wouldn't be able to handle it. She wanted to be there with him when he found out. In that way she was glad that the Assistant Director had forgotten to call him. She knew what this would do to Fox. She had seen him when Dana had been abducted. She had seen him when Dana got the cancer. She knew what happened to Fox Mulder when something happened to her daughter. Fox didn't deserve all the pain this would bring, both to him and Dana. Margaret didn't know much about his earlier life, only what Dana had told her, which wasn't very much, but it was more than enough. She knew that he had lost his sister at a young age, and that the rest of his childhood hadn't been very easy for him. Dana hadn't been very willing to talk about it, but she knew enough to know that this would hurt him terribly. He would probably blame himself for not being there, and that's why she wanted to tell him in person. To be able to tell him that this was not his fault. That there was nothing he could have done to stop it from happening. That fact didn't make it any less painful to deal with, but maybe he would understand that not everything was his fault. At least that's what she hoped he would understand. She knew that Dana would need him during this time. She would need him to be strong for her, even if she probably wouldn't admit that to him, nor to herself. That was just how Dana worked. She rarely admitted to needing anyone. But this time, she would need someone, and Margaret knew that it wouldn't be her, nor any of her two brothers. It would be Fox Mulder. * * * * "Dana Scully? Where is she?!" Margaret heard his voice long before he was even near Dana's room. She rose from her chair next to her daughter's bed, and went out to greet him in the corridor before he went in to see Dana. "Fox..." Her voice was soft and low as she spoke to him. He stopped in his tracks as he saw Margaret, and then slowly walked up to her. "Where is she?" he asked her. His voice was filled with such worry, it ached in Margaret's heart. "Is she all right? Is it her cancer?! Has it returned?!" The questions were just streaming out from him. She should have known. She should have known that he would think it was the cancer again. She shook her head. "No, Fox. It's not the cancer." "Then what?" He looked confused. "Fox... " Margaret didn't know how to tell him, even though she had prepared a speech in her head. He looked so worried. He cared for Dana so much. How would he react to this? "Just tell me, Mrs. Scully," Mulder begged. "What's wrong?" "Fox..." She paused again and gently put her hand on his arm. "Fox, something happened to Dana last night while she was still at Quantico." "What...?" "She was raped, Fox. She was raped..." She saw and felt Mulder's whole body tense at her words, and he closed his eyes tight. He was denying it, she knew. But then he opened his eyes again, and looked straight into hers. "Where is she?" "Fox..." "Where is she?" he asked again. "She's right in here." Margaret didn't let go of his arm, as she led him into the room next to them. * * * * The older woman must have been the redhead's mother. He recognized the man from Quantico, though. It was her partner. Fox Mulder. Yeah, that had been his name. All the others had thought he was so cool. In his eyes, Fox Mulder was just a jerk. Nothing had gone as he had planned. Dana Scully wasn't supposed to be here right now. She was supposed to be with him. She was his now. If only that damn guard hadn't come by again. That was one of his problems. Almost all of his gifts were fully developed, such as his sight, hearing, and the fact that he could heal himself. But not his strength. He knew that it would come with time, but he didn't know when. It didn't hurt when someone hit him or if he got shot, but if someone were to take a hold of him, someone who was bigger and stronger than him, he would never get loose. Not yet. And that was something he couldn't risk. The guard was much bigger than him, and probably a lot stronger as well. He had been to up in what he was doing to hear the guard coming until it was already too late. He had had to leave the redhead where she was. He couldn't afford to get caught. But he would get her back one day. Soon. He was standing just around the corner from where the mother and partner had been. Now he knew where the redhead's room was. He would get her back. * * * * "Is she sleeping?" Mulder's voice was low, almost a whisper. He was standing next to Scully's bed, just looking at her. He couldn't believe that this had happened to her. Hadn't she been through enough already? Had this really had to happen to her? It was all so fucking unfair. She was the last person on earth who deserved anything bad happening to her. And yet, the rest of the world seemed to be after her; against her. "Yes," he heard Mrs. Scully answer. "They had to give her something to calm her down last night, and she hasn't woken up from it yet. It's probably good for her to get some sleep." Mulder said nothing, and simply nodded. He knew that Mrs. Scully was worried about him; he had seen it in her eyes, but he just didn't care right now. All he cared about was Scully. She looked so fragile, lying there in the hospital bed. Images of her flashed in front of his eyes. He saw her lying with tubes everywhere when she had been returned from her abduction. He saw her lying there, pale and dying from the cancer. He closed his eyes and then opened them again. This time he saw her in front of him again. But she wasn't pale, and she didn't have any tubes around her. Instead she had this haunted expression on her face, an expression that just screamed out the pain. The fear. He sat down in the chair that stood next to the bed, the same chair Margaret had been sitting in earlier. She didn't mind. She knew that he needed to be as close to her as possible, and that Dana needed that as well. "Do you want to be alone with her, Fox?" It wasn't really a question; she already knew what his answer would be. He looked up at her, with tears in his eyes, and nodded. She just smiled faintly at him, and walked out from the room. Mulder followed Mrs. Scully with his eyes, but as soon as she closed the door behind her, he looked at Scully again. He sighed heavily as he tried to hold back the tears. "Scully...." he whispered to her. "I'm so sorry." He didn't quite know what he was sorry for. For what happened to her? Yes. For not being there to protect her? Yes. For something else? Yes, but he didn't know what. He gently grasped her hand in his, and brought it to his lips. He kissed it softly once, and then simply held on to it. "Why did this happen to you?" He wasn't really talking to her. He was talking to someone who refused to listen to him. Someone who let bad things happen to her all the time. How could this "someone" be so cruel? He didn't have the answer to that, and he never would. He slowly put his head down on the bed beside her tense, still body, and silently let the tears fall. * * * * She was cold. And she hurt. Her whole body ached. She sensed someone in the room with her. Where was she? She slowly opened her eyes, but closed them again as the bright light hit them. The next time, she opened them more carefully to let her eyes adjust to the light. She turned her head to the left, and there he was. Mulder. He had fallen asleep in a chair next to her bed. She then turned her head to the other side. Her mother sat there, slumped over in sleep as well. She realized she was in the hospital, and everything came back to her. The fear. The pain. But not the face, because in her sleep, she had decided to forget that. She closed her eyes again. She didn't want to remember. Why hadn't her subconscious let her forget everything? Why had it let her remember the fear? She hated feeling fear. It made her vulnerable. She hated being vulnerable. Thoughts of Duane Barry ran through her mind. Thoughts of Donnie Pfaster. Thoughts of Gerry Schnauz. Eugene Tooms. Robert Modell. Thoughts of... someone she wouldn't remember. She hated fear. She hated being vulnerable. She wanted to cry. But Dana Scully didn't cry. She almost never cried, because crying showed vulnerability. Instead she kept her eyes closed tightly together, pushing all the feelings back... far back. * * * * "I'm cold." Mulder woke with a start. Had Scully said something in her sleep? He looked over at her. No, her eyes were open. She was awake. "What, Scully?" She was awake, she was awake. The words flew through his mind like a mantra. "I'm cold," she repeated. At first, Mulder could only stare at her. Even though her voice was very low, it was still strong and steady. Cold. And completely without even a hint of emotions. It scared him. Scully had been through a lot of things. Her abduction. The cancer... But she had never before acted like this. She didn't look at him; she just stared right in front of her. Her normally sparkling blue eyes looked as if they were now overhung by a shadow. A shadow that hid all proof of a living soul. Mulder looked around himself and saw a blanket lying next to Scully's feet on the bed. He rose from the chair, and carefully laid the blanket over her. Scully grabbed it, and pulled it up all the way to her chin. Then she closed her eyes again. Mulder noticed that Mrs. Scully was still sleeping, and he walked around the bed and touched her gently on the shoulder. She looked up at him with sleepy eyes, and he told her, "She's awake." Mrs. Scully looked over at her daughter, who still had her eyes closed, but she could see that Dana was awake. She had her fists clenched hard around the thin hospital blanket, and she was shaking from the cold. "Dana?" she said, but her daughter didn't react. She tried again. "Dana?" This time she brought her hand up to gently stroke Scully's cheek, and her eyes flew open. "Mom?" She still had that cold voice without emotions. Mrs. Scully looked up at Mulder and he just met her eyes knowingly without saying anything. Mrs. Scully nodded and returned her gaze to Scully. They were all quiet for a while, until Scully's voice broke the silence. "I shot him." Her voice was flat, even. "I shot him, Mulder." He looked at her, confused. What did she mean? He had talked to the guard who found her, and he hadn't said anything about any blood in the office. "I shot him three times," she continued. "I even shot him in the heart, but it didn't affect him. It didn't affect him at all." Even though she had said his name, it was as if she didn't even know Mulder was in the room. She stared right ahead of her, her eyes never blinking, as if she had discovered something incredibly fascinating with the wallpaper's pattern. Then she suddenly looked him straight in the eyes. "It didn't affect him." Mulder slowly walked up to her side, and tried to pull her into a hug. It was something he shouldn't have done, and later he cursed himself for not realizing it sooner. Scully quickly put up both her hands in front of her, shaking, making it perfectly clear that she didn't want him to come close. "No!" she screamed out. Mulder pulled back, startled by her scream. "Scully, I..." he tried, but Scully interrupted him. "No," she simply said. With her hands still up, as if they were there for protection, she continued. "Please, Mulder. Just leave me alone." Mulder helplessly looked over at Mrs. Scully. She returned his look, and just shrugged. She didn't know what to do either. She turned back to her daughter. "Do you want to be alone for a while, sweetie? Should Fox and I come back later instead?" Scully nodded, and Mrs. Scully got up from her chair, following Mulder out of the room. Neither of them saw Scully, as she suddenly rolled over and pulled her knees up to her chest. Her body was shaking violently. She was finally letting out the tears. * * * * Mulder was lost. He didn't know what to do. He just felt so incredibly helpless. When he had reached out for Scully to comfort her, she had rejected him. And even if he could understand why she had reacted that way, it hurt. He realized he shouldn't be feeling that way, but he did. Mrs. Scully had told him that he needed to give Scully some time. He knew this. And he would give her all the time she needed, but he wanted to help her through this more than anything. The way she had looked at him... as if he was going to hurt her. As if he was the enemy. He knew that deep inside, she knew he would never do anything like that to her, but still, that was how she had acted. Like she didn't trust him anymore. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that she trusted him, that it was what had happened to her that had made her act this way. He couldn't stand the thought of knowing that it was someone else who had taken that trust away from her. What he needed to know now was how he was going to be able to get it back to her again. And back to him. * * * * She had hurt him. She knew. She had seen it in his eyes, seen the feeling of rejection. She hadn't meant to react that way. It was just that when he had reached out for her, all she had seen was someone else coming towards her. A man without a face. And she had simply panicked. She had cried ever since Mulder and her mom had left the room. She had cried for herself. She had cried for her mother. And she had cried for Mulder. She hated herself for doing this to him. She knew Mulder. She knew that all he wanted was to be there for her. And she hadn't accepted that. She had pushed him away. How could she? The guilt washed over her, but she refused to start crying again. As if she didn't have enough to think about already. Or rather... things *not* to think about... * * * * He was still standing at the corner, watching the room she was in. The redhead's partner and the older woman had both left over an hour ago, and they hadn't returned yet. He decided he would get the redhead back later. This was not the right time. He felt it. He turned around and walked away from the hospital. Their time would come again. Not yet, but soon. * * * * "Did you find anything?" Mulder asked the doctor caring for Scully. He and Mrs. Scully had been called into Dr. Ann Devon's office just five minutes earlier. They had been told that she wanted to go through the evidence with them. Since Mulder was Scully's partner and a FBI agent, she wanted him to be there as well. "Yes," Dr. Devon answered him. "We found some seminal fluid, and we have been able to determine the man's DNA. Now it's up to you to come up with a suspect. If you do, we'll be able to decide if he's the right man." Ann Devon had been in contact with a lot of rape victims through her long years as a doctor, and she knew how horrible it was. Mostly for the victim, of course, but also for the family and friends around the victim. She could see that in this case, Dana Scully's partner seemed to take it very hard. Even harder than the mother. She wondered if there wasn't more between Dana Scully and Fox Mulder than just being partners. He hadn't really done anything that would indicate it. He had simply introduced himself as her partner in the FBI. But she sensed something more. Something that went far beyond just a partnership. "Why is she so...?" Mulder had a hard time getting the words out. "Reserved?" Dr. Devon filled in. "I was going to use the word 'cold', but yeah... Reserved. Why is she?" Dr. Devon felt for him. Mrs. Scully had told her about Dana's reaction to him, and how it had hurt Mulder. "It's normal, Agent Mulder. Most rape victims react this way afterwards. They distance themselves from the incident, but also from the people around her. Hopefully she will regain her trust in people. You and Mrs. Scully will have to help her through this." Mulder almost laughed bitterly at the word. Trust. They would have to help Scully regain her trust. In who? The only two people she had trusted before was him and her mother. Scully wasn't someone who's trusted someone easily. That was his fault as well. When she had first started working with him on the X-Files she had been... naive, in a way. But after just a little while with him, she soon became almost as paranoid as him, and rightfully so. No, it wouldn't be easy to get her trust back. "We will," he heard Mrs. Scully say to the doctor, and he nodded at her words. No matter what it took, he would get Scully's trust back again. He couldn't live without her trust. And he knew that Scully wouldn't be able to live like this either. * * * * She stood outside his apartment door, afraid to knock on it. She was afraid to face him again. Afraid of what he thought of her. She knew she shouldn't be afraid. This was Mulder she was thinking about. Her partner. Her best friend. The one she trusted more than anyone in the whole world. Even more than her own mother. She had been released from the hospital little over a week earlier, and since then she had been staying with her mother. Mulder had called her several times during that week, but she had refused to talk to him. Her mother had tried to convince her to at least speak to him for a couple of minutes, but she had made up her mind. She didn't want to talk to him. Not now. Did she blame him for not being there to "save" her when it all had happened? The thought had crossed her mind more times than she wanted it to. But she knew that wasn't it. She had never, and *would* never, blame him for this. She had never blamed him for anything, why would she start now? No, she wasn't quite sure why she hadn't wanted to see him. Or talk to him. Was she afraid that he would bring up the 'issue' she tried so hard to forget about? Yes. Was she afraid that he would try to make her remember? Yes. To remember the face? She closed her eyes for a few seconds, and took a deep breath, trying to clear her thoughts and gather enough courage to take that final step and knock on the door. She knew that she couldn't turn away from here now. She had to see him. She had to talk to him. * * * * Mulder was lying on his sofa, watching a ball game on TV. It wasn't interesting enough, though, to capture his thoughts. His thoughts weren't on the game; they were all on a certain Dana Scully. He had called her at her mother's house more times than he could remember during the past week. She hadn't wanted to talk to him even once. Mrs. Scully had told him that Scully wasn't back to her old self yet. He hadn't expected that either. That's why he wanted to talk to her. To help her come back to being her old self. Or at least close to it. He understood that she would probably never be the same Scully she once had been, but he knew that the old Scully had to still be in there somewhere. It would be hard to get her back, but he would make sure that no one could accuse him of not at least trying. It had been more than a week since he had last seen her now. He realized he hadn't seen her since before she had been released from the hospital. Not that things had been much more different then. She hadn't spoken more than two or three words to him after that first day. He just didn't know how to get through to her. He had tried. God knows, he had tried. He had tried talking to her like a psychologist would. He had tried talking to her like a friend would. He had tried every different approach he could think of, but nothing would let him get through to her; make her listen to him. He missed her so much. Missed their arguments over their different cases, missed her rare smiles. He missed her company. He was brought out of his reverie by a sudden knock at the door. He quickly jumped off the couch. He recognized that knock. It belonged to Scully. He rushed over to the door and looked out the peep- hole. And there she was. She stood with her small hands tucked in the big pockets on her coat. She looked nervous. Was she not sure about coming here? He slowly opened the door. Scully looked up at him. She looked as if she would have preferred him not being home. "Scully?" She tried to give him a smile, but failed miserably. "Hi," she simply said. "Can I come in?" "Of course." He moved to the side and motioned for her to step into the apartment, which she did after a few seconds of hesitation. Mulder followed her with his eyes, and then closed the door behind her. The small apartment looked as if it hadn't been cleaned in ages. Not that that was unusual for Mulder's apartment, but anyway. She looked over at the TV, which was still showing the ball game, and Mulder hurried over to it, and turned it off. Now the apartment was completely quiet. The only thing she could hear was his breathing and her own heartbeats, beating fast in her chest. She could feel his eyes on her, but she didn't return his gaze. She knew that she would fall apart if she looked into those hazel eyes right now. She knew that they would be full of worry. Of sympathy. Concern. She couldn't handle that right now. So she didn't look at him. Instead she walked over to his window. The window next to his computer. The window where he had used to place the 'X'. Where *she* had once placed the 'X', trying to save his life. Save his life... How many times had she done that now? More times than she could count. So had he. He had saved her from Donnie Pfaster. Gerry Schnauz. It was because of him she had returned from the coma after her abduction. He had been there. But this time he hadn't. He hadn't come in time. Did she blame him? No, she refused to let her thoughts wander down that road again. She had already decided that she didn't blame him for this; that she couldn't. How was he supposed to have known? He hadn't even been in town when it happened... She couldn't lay this on him. She heard him move over to sit down on the couch. Then he spoke. "Scully, will you please just look at me?" She could hear the despair in his voice. But she didn't turn around. She couldn't handle seeing the look on his face yet. Why had she come here? Why hadn't she just stayed with her mother until she was expected back at work? Because she felt guilty. Because he was her best friend. Because she owed him at least this much. He had helped her through so many things in life before. But this time she needed to tell him that she wanted to handle this alone. She needed to do this by herself. Would he understand that? Probably not. She didn't even understand it herself... She didn't turn around. She didn't look at him, even though he had asked her to. So he simply waited for her to say something. Finally, she did. "I'm sorry I didn't answer your calls." Was he supposed to say something to that? Did she expect him to? He didn't think so, so once again, he waited for her to continue. He heard her take a deep breath. "I... I don't know," she tried to explain. "I just didn't feel like talking to anyone. Not even you, Mulder." She didn't have the same voice as the one she had had in the hospital anymore. It wasn't cold or emotionless. This time it was filled with feelings. Feelings he couldn't quite place. "Mulder, I'm coming back to work tomorrow." He hadn't been ready for that one. She was coming back? Already? She needed more time; she couldn't be ready to come back yet. *He* needed more time... He needed more time alone with her until they could go back to working together. She had shut him out so completely during the past weeks. They had to talk. And not while working. They had to *really* talk. "Scully..." he started, but she interrupted him. "No, Mulder, I'm coming back. I know you're gonna try to convince me otherwise, but I have already decided. I don't want to just be at home with my mother anymore; I need to work. I hope you can understand that." Yes, he *did* understand that. Whatever Scully had gone through in her life, she had always went straight back to work. He hadn't really expected her to act any different this time. But he had to make her realize that they had to talk first. Maybe that was why she had come over tonight? Somehow, he didn't think that was the reason. "Scully, we need to talk." And there it was. Five words she had just expected to come any minute. 'Scully, we need to talk.' Why did he have to say those words? Couldn't he just let it all be? Of course not, this was Mulder. Her head throbbed incessantly. The pain was becoming almost unbearable. She shut her eyes hard, trying to shut out the light from the streetlights below his window. She would not turn around. "No, Mulder," she said. "Not now. Mulder, I need to handle this on my own." Without giving him a chance to object, she continued. "I know you don't think I should do that. I know. But this is something I have to do. I have to get my confidence back, and I can't do that if I have to rely on someone else. Can you understand that, Mulder?" He didn't answer her. Had he heard her? Maybe she had just said all of that in her head, and not out loud. Just as she was about to repeat herself, he spoke. "I think you're making a mistake, Scully." He paused for a minute. When he started speaking again, his voice was higher, and he almost sounded angry. "Don't you understand, Scully?! I just want to help you!" This time she did turn around. Mulder had gotten up from the couch, and he was standing three feet away from her. She could see the rage in his eyes, but also the feeling of rejection. "I know, Mulder, but I don't want your help! I don't *need* your help! I have to do this alone!" He quickly closed the space between them, and grabbed her arms, trying to pull her to him. But she flinched away from him, just as she had in the hospital. She wouldn't let him touch her. "You don't! You're wrong, Scully! You just think you have to go through this by yourself! You're so damn stubborn, do you know that?!" *Why* did she have to be so stubborn?! She always was, of course. He didn't know why he had thought this time would be any different. She looked at him in silence, as if contemplating his words. "Look, Mulder," she started slowly. "I didn't come here to fight. I don't want to fight with you." "Why did you come here, Scully?" "I..." She fell silent. Suddenly he remembered what she had said to him in the hospital. Why hadn't he thought about that before now? In a much calmer voice, trying not to sound too angry, he said, "Scully, what did you mean when you told me that you had shot him, but that he..." She cut him off. "Mulder, I told you I don't want to talk about it!" Dammit. "That's just it, Scully! You never want to talk! How am I supposed to understand what's going on inside that head of yours if you never tell me!?" He knew this wasn't the right approach to get her to talk to him either, but he didn't know what to do anymore. Why didn't he just stop it? Why couldn't he respect her wishes? She didn't want to talk about it, and that was final. And why didn't that damn headache disappear?! "I didn't come here to talk about this! You don't have to know!" "Then why did you come here?" he asked her for the second time in just a few minutes. He sounded so angry with her. She didn't know what to say or what to do. What she didn't know was that he was feeling the exact same things. He didn't know what to say to her to make *her* understand. To make her listen to him. To let him help her. "I don't know!" Scully had now moved to the other side of the couch, slowly making her way towards the door. "I don't need this, Mulder!" she yelled, her voice almost pleading. He gave up. He wouldn't get anywhere with her tonight. He knew that she had already decided not to listen to a word he said. Everything just went into one ear and out through the other. "Fine, Scully," he said and flopped down on the couch again, defeated. "I know this routine by heart. You don't need me, Scully. You don't need anyone, right? Fine." His voice was still angry, but now low. Why couldn't he just understand how she felt? Why couldn't he accept her decision? "Fine then," she said to him. "See you at work in the morning." Then she opened the door, and stumbled out from his apartment. He jerked at the noise of the door slamming shut, but he didn't get up to follow her. * * * * Just as she had told him, she showed up for work the next morning. When she had woken up that morning, she had wanted nothing more than to stay in bed for the rest of her life. She was still staying with her mother, who refused to let her live at home all by herself. And even though she could say 'no' to Mulder, she couldn't to her mother. Scully knew that Margaret was worried about her; that something would happen to the only daughter she had left. She couldn't put her through that, so she had agreed to stay with her. For now. She was standing outside the door to their office in the basement. 'Their office'... She didn't even have her name on the door. It still only said 'Fox Mulder'. It was as if she didn't even exist when it came to the X-Files. In her heart, she knew that wasn't how Mulder looked at it. Even though he technically was her supervisory agent, and even though he ditched her more often than she would like to think about, she knew that he looked at her as his equal. They were partners. But right now she really didn't want to be here. After that fight the night before, she didn't know what she should say to him. Should she just stay quiet and wait for him to speak first? He could probably stay quiet the whole day. Sometimes he could be so stubborn. Wasn't that what her mother had called her when she had come home from Mulder's apartment? Stubborn? Her mother had been so angry with her. She had screamed at her; which had made her feel as if she was a little child again. A child that had done something really wrong. Her mother had never been one for screaming at her children, and neither had her father. So when she had come home, and Margaret reacted this way, she had been shocked. She hadn't been able to say anything to her defense. She had just sat on her bed in the room she had had there since she was a little girl, and listened to her mother. Scully had never seen her so... so furious. Margaret had yelled at her. Another thing Margaret Scully didn't do often. Swear. Love? In a way she was. Dying inside. She could feel that darkness already, but she chose to ignore it. She took one final deep breath, and then opened the door to the office. As she had thought, Mulder was already there. Of course. He was sitting by his desk, reading through a file. She noticed right away, though, that he wasn't reading it at all. Neither his head nor his eyes moved. Instead he sat completely still, as if simply staring at the paper in front of him. "Morning, Mulder," she said to him. "Morning," he replied, not even looking up from the damn file. Fine, Scully thought to herself. If that's the way he wanted it, fine with her. She stood silent for a few more seconds, watching him, waiting for him to change his mind, and look up at her, letting her know that things were okay. But he didn't. And things were definitely not okay. Turning away from him, she took her coat off and hung it up by the door, next to where his already was. Then she walked over to her desk. If it could even be called a desk. It was more like a table, with her stuff on it. She remembered when they had argued about that. Argued over a simple desk. She had asked him why she didn't have one, and he had simply replied that he had always thought of this area as hers. The argument hadn't really been about the desk, though. They both knew it, but neither of them had brought up the real reason for their argument. Not then, and not since then either. She sat down behind her 'desk', setting up her laptop to go through some reports that had been due weeks ago, but had been put off since she had been away from work. She was determined not to speak to Mulder first. * * * * He hadn't looked up when she had walked into the office. He had heard in her voice that she was trying to make him speak to her; to make him understand. But he couldn't. He couldn't understand why she didn't want him to go through this with her. They had helped each other through so much. That she would turn away from him now, was simply beyond his mind. He wouldn't talk to her until she decided they would *really* talk. About what she felt, what she was going through inside herself. He knew that if he tried to talk to her before she was ready, before she really wanted it, they would only end up fighting again. And even though he should probably try, despite the fights just waiting to happen, he couldn't do it. Watching Scully hurt was among the worst things he knew in life. But fighting with Scully was another. Right now he wanted neither, but he would have to live through watching her in pain until *she* was ready. He realized it would take a lot of time, if it even ever happened, but he would wait. He knew she would have to talk about it sometime, whether she wanted to or not. Finally, she would have to. Otherwise she would go under. * * * * He was watching himself in the mirror; imagining how the reflection would look with the redhead standing beside him. He could see her next to him; her beauty and strength radiating into him, making him even stronger and even more powerful. She would no longer be Dana Scully. She would no longer be the redhead. She would be his. She would be his Goddess. His lips turned into a grotesque smile as he thought of how she would become his for eternity. It wasn't time yet, he knew. He had been overly eager when he had tried earlier, which was why he failed. But the next time, there would be no mistakes, no tries and no rash decisions. Next time, he would not fail. No one would ever again be able to mistake her for not being his. No one. * * * * Scully's eyes were shining with unshed tears as she stared into the fire. Her legs were curled up under her, digging into the soft couch cushions. The soft light from the fire was playing over her face; sometimes softening her features, making her look like she was twenty, and sometimes hardening them, making her look twice her age. Margaret watched her baby girl as she tried to compose herself; tried to hide the tears from her own mother. She had walked into the living room, expecting Dana to be asleep in her room by now, but instead finding her sitting on the couch, her body shaking. When Margaret had put a comforting hand on her shoulder, she had looked up at her with a haunted look on her face, her gaze completely disoriented. The sight had made her want to cry. She sat down next to her on the couch, and then she pulled her into a gentle embrace. There was only a slight hesitation before Dana let herself relax completely into the arms of her mother, and she buried her face in her lap, just like she had done when she was little and had been hurting. The silent tears soon turned into sobs, and Margaret held onto her tight, letting her cry. "Cry, sweetie," she whispered, pushing her daughter's hair away from her face, gently wiping away the tears as they fell. She leaned down, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. "Cry." * * * * A couple of months passed by, and things were getting back to normal between them. As normal as they could be, anyway. Mulder didn't know who had started talking to the other one, but they were at least speaking again. They still weren't talking about what had happened to Scully, and Mulder had decided maybe it was better not to mention it at all until Scully wanted to bring it up herself. He was just glad she seemed to be feeling a little better. But still, he would sometimes look up at her from his desk, and he would find her in deep thoughts. Those times she had that painful look back on her face, and it hurt Mulder to see it. To know that she didn't feel she could talk to him about it instead of thinking about it to herself. He had tried to bring the subject up once since that dreadful evening that seemed to be so far away, but then Scully had backed away from him again. Since then, he hadn't mentioned it again, and neither had she. Scully was still staying with her mother. They were still worried that the man who had attacked her would come back, even though nothing suspicious had happened since that night. But Mrs. Scully and Mulder both felt more comfortable with Scully staying there. And even if Scully hadn't said it herself, they knew that she felt better there as well. Safer. They had just returned back to Washington D.C. after a case, which had turned out to be far from an X-File. They were discussing the final notes for the report to Skinner, when Scully suddenly stood up. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth, and then she ran out from the office. Mulder quickly got up to follow her, and saw her running in to the ladies room. He stopped outside the door and knocked on it. "Scully? Are you OK?" At first she didn't answer, so he asked her again. "I'm fine, Mulder," he heard voice say from the other side. "I'll be out soon. Go back to the office." Then he heard her flush the toilet, and he went back to the office as she had told him. * * * * She was looking at herself in the mirror. She hardly recognized the woman she saw there. Her face was flushed, with tears in her eyes. Her breathing was heavy, and sweat had broken out on her forehead. She had thrown up. She had been sitting with Mulder in the office like any other day, and suddenly she had felt the nausea wash over her. She had literally flown up from her seat, and rushed to the toilet. She didn't want Mulder to know that she had been sick, so when he called out to her through the door, she had told him to just go back to the office again. She had been feeling like this for almost a week now, but this was the first time it had happened when Mulder had been with her. When they had been out on the case, she had gotten sick in her motel room, but Mulder hadn't noticed anything. She at least hoped he hadn't. This time he was bound to ask her what was going on when she got back to the office again. She didn't know herself what was wrong yet. At first she had thought it was just the flu, but she didn't have a fever or anything else to indicate that that was the case. So she had went to the hospital. Deep inside she was afraid that the cancer might had returned. She had went to Dr. Devon, who had promised to call her as soon as she got the results back from the lab. With her hands on the edge of the washbowl, keeping her steady, she willed her breathing to become calmer. She felt like she needed to throw up again, but nothing happened. Ten minutes later, the nausea had passed, and she was ready to go back to the office and to Mulder again. She splashed a handful of cold water in her face one last time, and dried it off with some paper. With one last deep, calm breath, she walked out into the hallway. * * * * When she stepped into the office again, Mulder looked up at her. He looked worried. Had she really expected anything else? "Are you okay?" His words sounded slightly panicked. She replied as she always did. "I'm fine, Mulder." At his skeptical look she continued, "It's just a little touch of the flu, I'm all right." He seemed to accept that answer. If only she could feel the same way about it. "Dr. Devon called while you were in the bathroom," he told her. "Oh..." She stopped in her tracks. "Did she say what she wanted?" "I don't know. She just said she wanted you to come down to the hospital when you have the time." Just as she had sat down in her chair, she got up on her feet again. She had to go to the hospital right now. "Scully?" "Mmm?" "Want me to come with you?" He got up from his chair and walked over to her. He was very careful not to touch her though. He hadn't touched her since the night they had argued, not even touched his hand to the small of her back. She looked at him. Did she want him to come with her? Yes. God, she wanted him to come with her. But she wouldn't bring him. She had to find out what was wrong first. "No, that's okay, Mulder," she answered him. He hadn't expected her to accept his offer, but he felt he had to ask. "I'll go there now, and I'll call you later, okay?" "You sure?" "Yeah. Thanks Mulder." Then she put her coat on and grabbed her car keys. "Talk to you later then," she said to him as she went out from the office. "Sure," was all Mulder got out before the door closed behind her. Something was wrong. There was something Scully wasn't telling him. Actually, where were a *lot* of things Scully wasn't telling him lately. He was hoping that she would start trusting him again soon, because it all made him feel very uncomfortable. * * * * "Hello Dana," Dr. Devon greeted Scully. "I'm glad you could come down here right away." "Of course," Scully said as she followed Dr. Devon into her office at the hospital. She was so nervous. Afraid of what was wrong with her body. The doctor wouldn't have called her down here if it wasn't something serious. Something she couldn't tell her over the phone. "I have to know what's wrong," she told her sincerely. "Please," Dr. Devon said and motioned for Scully to sit down in the chair right in front of the desk, "sit down." Instead of sitting behind the desk in her own chair, Dr. Devon sat down in the chair next to Scully's. "It's the cancer, isn't it?" Scully asked right away, the words rushing out of her mouth. "It's returned, hasn't it?" She was so afraid it was the cancer again. She had been through all that once already, and had barely survived. She didn't know if she could survive it once more. But what Dr. Devon told her was much worse. Worse than the cancer ever could have been. "Dana..." She paused for a few seconds before continuing. She didn't know how to tell her. She decided the only way was to tell her straight out. "Dana, you're pregnant." Both of the women could feel the air change in the room, and Scully felt as if someone had just struck her in the face. Pregnant? That was impossible. She couldn't get pregnant. Not since the abduction. She was barren! Something must be wrong. But before she got the chance to say anything out loud, Dr. Devon had noticed her reaction and said, "I know you thought you couldn't get pregnant. We didn't either, to be honest. But obviously we must have missed something. You *are* pregnant, Dana." "I can't be." It was the denial thing all over again. She *couldn't* be pregnant. There must have been some mix- up or something. Someone else was pregnant, not her. It was as if Dr. Devon was reading her mind. "No, Dana, it's not a mistake. We ran the test three times just to be completely sure. There are no doubts about it. You have a child growing inside you." She couldn't believe it. That... That... That *creature* had gotten her pregnant. This couldn't be happening. It all had to bee some sick joke. A really bad, sick joke. But as she looked at Dr. Devon, she knew that this was no joke. "Dana, didn't you suspect anything?" the doctor asked carefully. "You must have suspected something when your period disappeared. And haven't you gained any weight at all?" Scully felt so confused. Yes, her period had disappeared, but it wasn't like it was the first time that had ever happened to her. "I thought it had to do with the stress," she told her. "It's happened before. My job is very stressful at times, and I sure have been under a lot of pressure lately. And to be honest, doctor, I haven't been eating very well lately..." Suddenly she started crying. The tears streamed down her face, uncontrollably. Dr. Devon moved slowly and took Scully's hand in her own, trying to give her some kind of comfort. This was always the worst. It happened more often than she or any other doctor would like to think about. Not only did she get raped, but now she had to carry the rapist's child in her body. Scully accepted the doctor's attempt to comfort her, and did not pull her hand away. When would it all stop? When would she get to live a normal life? Why did everything have to happen?! After a while she let herself be drawn into Dr. Devon's warm embrace, and realized that it was really Mulder she wanted to be holding her right now. Mulder. The only one she knew she could always count on. The man who was always there for her, whenever she needed him. Whether she wanted him to or not. Dr. Ann Devon closed her eyes, and silently stroked her patient's hair. She felt like crying herself. Dana had thought that she couldn't get pregnant for a long time now, and this was certainly not the way anyone would ever want to finally get pregnant. To get what they really wanted more than anything else, but in a completely wrong way. When the tears finally started to subside, Dr. Devon decided to ask Scully the question she had been thinking about all along. A question she didn't know if she really should ask or not; it really wasn't any of her business. But she did. "Dana, do you love him?" It came out just like that, after minutes of silence, and it shocked Scully. "Excuse me?" "Dana, do you love your partner?" Scully looked at her as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing. To Dr. Devon it sounded like it would be the easiest thing in the world to answer. But not to Scully. To her, it was everything but simple. Did she love him? Yes, she had admitted that to herself a long time ago. But it wasn't that easy. "Love him..." she said, as if the words touched her lips for the very first time. "I did. I do." She sighed. "I'm not sure I *can* love him anymore." "What do you mean by that?" Dr. Devon carefully willed her to continue. Scully slowly rose her head and looked up at her. "I won't even let him touch me anymore," she told her. "I just... I just draw myself away from him. I can't help myself." "I see..." "I mean, he's my partner and my best friend. Of course I love him." Dr. Devon nodded, and Scully kept going. "Right now... When you held me in your arms... I wished that it was Mulder holding me. I've always borrowed his strength, just as he has borrowed mine. We depend on each other. In a way, I don't think I could survive without him by my side." "And what about him?" Dr. Devon asked. "Does he know how you feel about him?" "I don't know. He must..." Her head fell forward again. "He must what, Dana?" Dr. Devon insisted. "He must know... How could he not?" "Have you ever told him you love him?" Her voice was barely louder than a whisper. "No." "Okay..." She nodded, even though she knew Scully couldn't see her at the moment. "And how does he feel about you? Does he love you?" Scully was quiet for a few moments, as if she thought it over. Finally she said, "Yes... I think he does." "Your mother told me that you don't want to talk to him about what's happened." "Mom?" "Yes. She was concerned for both you and Agent Mulder. Is it true?" "I guess so," she admitted. "Why?" "I don't know." She paused slightly. "I don't want him to think that I am weak. I want him to trust me to back him up, and not be worried that I'll have a breakdown while out in the field. It's important that he knows he can trust me to be there." "Don't you think he's even more worried when you don't talk to him?" she asked. Scully thought about it for a minute. He was worried now. She knew that he was just waiting for her to talk to him about what had happened almost three months ago. But she couldn't. "Maybe you're right," she told the doctor. "I don't want to talk to him about it. I think I'm afraid I'll fall apart if I do." She looked up at her again. "Why are you asking me all these questions about Mulder?" Dr. Devon didn't answer her question. Instead she asked, "Will you tell him about the baby?" Scully felt the tears rise again as she thought about the child now growing inside her. "I don't know," she told her honestly. "I think you should. You need someone to help you through this. And from what you've told me, I think Mulder is that someone." Twisting her hands in her lap, she finally said, "I know." And she did. * * * * He woke with a start. He had fallen asleep. That was one of the few downsides of being the 'chosen'. He needed a lot of energy; energy he could only get from sleep. Maybe one day that would change. He didn't know. For now it actually didn't bother him that much. When he slept, he could escape into his dreams. And it was in his dreams he could sometimes see what was going to happen. He had been dreaming about the redhead. He had watched her everyday since she had been released from the hospital. He'd been watching her when she looked out the window in her mother's house. When she drove to work. When she had taken her car to her partner's apartment. That time he had wanted to take her away right there and then. But it wasn't the right time yet. He knew that. He had to do this the way it was supposed to be done. She was pregnant. She was carrying his child. He knew this with a certainty, because he had dreamed about it. He had felt it. He had just woken up and known it. Finally. A child to one day take over his place as the 'chosen' one. It would be a son. A son he could be proud of. A son who would obey his father, and worship his mother, just like he did. In his dream he had seen the redhead with his child in her arms, holding him close to her chest. Letting him feed from her breasts. If he closed his eyes, he could picture them both on his bed now, waiting for him to join them. He was going to have a son. * * * * "And where is Agent Scully today?" Mulder looked up at Skinner. He had been called up there ten minutes earlier to give him their report on the latest case. "She's at the hospital, sir," he told him. At Skinner's obvious worried expression to this, he continued. "Dr. Devon called her down there. I think she has the flu or something. It's probably nothing serious." Skinner relaxed again. Mulder knew that Skinner didn't really want him to know, but the fact was that Skinner cared a lot for Scully. He had seen it a lot of times. But it had especially been proved when Scully had the cancer, and now, after the... rape. Mulder appreciated the caring, although in the past, it had sometimes made him a little jealous. He hadn't been quite sure what kind of feelings Skinner had had for her; if they were fatherly feelings, or something more. He had soon stopped worrying, though, because first of all, he knew that Skinner would probably never do anything to indicate his feelings, if he had them. And second, Scully did not have any personal feelings for their boss, other than maybe friendship and respect. He knew this. "Well, tell her I hope she'll feel better soon," Skinner said, and Mulder nodded. "Now, about this case..." "Yeah," Mulder said. "There was nothing paranormal about it at all. Just a bunch of kids fooling around." "I see. And Agent Scully feels the same way about it?" "Yes, she does." "Well, you are excused then, Agent Mulder." Mulder rose to get out from the office, when Skinner's voice stopped him. "Mulder. Off the record, how *is* she, really?" Mulder turned to face him. After a few seconds he said, "To be honest, sir... I'm not really sure. She doesn't tell me anything. She never talks about what happened to her. Right now I'm just hoping she'll let me in." Skinner nodded, and went back to reading through the report. Mulder took that as his dismissal, and went down to the basement office again. * * * * Mulder looked at the clock on the VCR. It showed 11:21 p.m. The TV was off, as were all the lights. He simply lay on his couch in the dark, waiting. Waiting for the phone to ring. Waiting for Scully's call. He had thought about calling her up himself, but she had promised. She would call him. And he would wait. If Scully had said that she would call, she wouldn't want him to make the call for her. She would take that as him checking up on her, and he knew that she hated that. No, he would just lie here, and wait. That was the way it had to be. Almost twelve hours had passed since she had left the office to go to the hospital. Why hadn't she called yet? Had something serious happened? Was it something else than simply the flu? He then prayed to a God he didn't believe in. "Please don't let her go through anything more like this. She is the strongest person I have ever known, but enough is enough. Please." In that moment the phone rang. Mulder picked up after only one signal. "Scully?" he asked, already knowing it was her. "Hey, I thought that was my name." She sounded tired. "Are... Are you okay, Scully?" "I'm..." He could hear the hesitation in her voice. "I'm fine, Mulder." How many times had he heard those three words? "I'm not coming in to work tomorrow." He panicked. What was she trying to tell him? Oh, please... "Dr. Devon wanted to take some more tests." "Is it..." He was going to say 'Is it something serious?', but she interrupted him before he even got the chance. "Look, Mulder," she said, "I don't really want to talk about this over the phone. Could you come over to my apartment tomorrow night?" "Aren't you still staying with your mom?" "Yeah, but I want to see you in private. Without mom. Could you come by at around eight? I need to talk to you." "Talk?" He didn't want to fight with her again. Last time had been horrible enough. As if she was able to read his mind, she said, "Yes, to talk, Mulder. I don't want to fight again, either. Say you'll come." How could he say no? How would he ever be able to deny her anything? "Of course I'll come. I'll see you at eight then." "Good." She sounded both relieved and scared. Mulder wondered why. Hopefully she would tell him when they met. "Skinner asked about you today," he told her after a while. "Oh?" "Yeah... He's worried about you, Scully. Just like me." He wasn't sure he should have said that, but he had to. He had to let her know that he *was* worried, even if she didn't want him to be. "I'll see you tomorrow, Mulder. Good night." "Good ni..." Then she had hung up, and after a few seconds, Mulder did the same. He hoped she meant what she was saying. That she really wanted to talk tomorrow. Maybe she would finally let him in. God, he hoped so. * * * * The following day Mulder kept looking at his watch every five minutes. Why did the time have to pass by so damn slowly? Finally he decided that there wasn't really much for him to do at the office, so he called Skinner and told him he was going home early. After all, it was Friday, and Mulder rarely went home early from work. What he really wanted to do was to go down to the hospital and find Scully. But she would probably shoot him again if he did that. Instead he just drove around for more than two hours, thinking. Thinking about Scully. It seemed as if he was always thinking about Scully. It didn't matter what it was about. He just couldn't get her out of his mind. And he didn't really want to either. When had she become such an important person in his life? He didn't know. He supposed it had been almost right from the start. She had probably thought he was the craziest person she had ever met when they first started working together. But she listened to him. She listened to all his crazy theories, and even if she believed otherwise, she never made fun of him over it. Well, except for sometimes. But he had to admit that even he thought his own theories was a little bit too 'out there' sometimes. She put up with his behavior. Of course she got pissed off at him when he ditched her to pursue an investigation on his own. He didn't blame her for that. But she didn't know that he only did it to protect her. And that was not because he thought of her as a weaker person because she was a woman, or because he thought she couldn't handle it. It was because he couldn't bear to lose her. He had been close to that more times than he would like to remember. He didn't even want to imagine what it would be like if one day it really happened. That he would lose her. He would go under with her, he was sure of that. So even if he knew that he made her angry, he was only trying to protect her. When had she become the most important thing in his life, the one person he cared more about than anything else? That question he still couldn't answer. He looked at his watch again. It was 6:13 p.m. Less than two hours until he was supposed to be at Scully's apartment. Maybe he could go there early. Scully probably wouldn't be there yet. He knew that Mrs. Scully wouldn't want to let her be there on her own. He could let himself in with the key he had to her apartment. But how would Scully react if he was already there when she came? Well, he decided he would take the risk. He didn't feel like going home to his own apartment for just an hour, and riding around in his car didn't seem like a good option either. He quickly turned the car around, and started his journey to Scully's place. * * * * It was already dark outside. She was curled up on the couch in her living room. No lights were on in the whole apartment, even though she had been there for more than half an hour already. The clock on the VCR told her it was 6.37 p.m. More than an hour left till Mulder would get there. She didn't know if that knowledge made her feel grateful or not. Grateful because that meant she wouldn't have to worry about telling him for another hour. Uncomfortable because right now she felt very alone and didn't really want to be here on her own. And she missed him. If her mother would find out that she had been here alone all this time, she would bite her head off. She would be worried and angry. Margaret had hardly let Scully out of her sight since she had come home from the hospital, except for when Scully went to work or had to go away on a case. But at least she had Mulder with her then. Now it was evening and dark, just like it had been when... She tried to stop her thoughts from going there. But it was impossible. She had hardly been able to think about anything else since that dreadful night. Although, she did try very hard to convince her mother and Mulder otherwise; that it wasn't really bothering her anymore. Yeah right. As if they bought into that act. This was Mulder and her mother she was thinking about. The two people who knew her better than anyone else in the world. She couldn't fool them. Especially not Mulder. He could see right through her, even if he hadn't said anything about it for a long time now. Mulder... If he only knew how many times she had been close to just throw herself in his arms, and cry until there were no tears left. But she hadn't. Not Dana Scully. The last thing she wanted was for him to think that she was weak. She had always taken pride in the fact that she was a strong person. A very strong person. She didn't want Mulder to think that she wasn't. So when she was going to tell him everything later, she would have to stay that strong person. Try do distance herself from her feelings. Because otherwise there was no chance in hell she was going to pull this off without showing him her weaker side. Why was she going to tell him anyway? Why had she suddenly felt that she had to tell him? That he deserved to know? Because he did deserve to know. He was the most important part of her life. She had to tell him. What was that? She looked over to the door, and heard the same sound again. Someone was doing something to the lock. She quickly moved up from the couch and grabbed her gun that lay on the table. Then she placed herself in front of the door and aimed. The door opened, and Scully yelled, "Move and I'll blow your fucking brain out!!" "Hey! It's me!" Mulder raised his arms above his head to show her he was no threat, and then said in a lower voice, "It's only me, Scully." Scully stood completely still. She had almost shot Mulder. What the hell was she doing? She saw Mulder slowly lower his arms, and before she knew it, he had taken the gun away from her hands. "It's only me," he said again. "I'm so sorry, Mulder," she said. She could hear her own voice shaking, and tried to make it more steady. "I thought it was him." She almost succeeded. Then she thought about it. What if it *had* been 'him'. What good would the gun have done her then? Absolutely nothing. If it had been 'him' she didn't know what would have happened to her. Oh God. What had she been doing here all by herself? How could she have been so stupid? Her mother was right. She shouldn't be alone, especially not if this was the way she reacted when someone put a key in the door's lock. Only she, Mulder and her mom had a key to her apartment. So it couldn't even have been 'him'. Mulder stepped into the dark apartment, and closed the door behind him, locking it again. Then he took off his jacket and hung it up by the door. He walked over to the couch, trying not to bump into anything on the way, and then sat down. Scully followed him with her eyes the whole time. Her eyes were already used to the dark, so she could see him quite clearly. "What are you doing here so early anyway?" she asked him, her voice back to normal. He looked up, trying to see her in the dark. "I could ask you the same thing." There was no accusation in his voice. "I just needed some time by myself. Mom has been watching me like a mother hen." Mulder nodded, although he wasn't sure she could see him or not. "I'm sorry I was about to shoot you," she said to him. Mulder smiled a little at this. "Hey, it's not like you haven't done it before." When Scully didn't respond, he continued, "Hey, Scully. It's okay. You didn't shoot me. I'm still here." "No thanks to me." "Come here, Scully," Mulder said, and Scully could hear him patting his hand next to him on the couch, even if she couldn't see it. She moved over to the couch, but she didn't sit down next to him. Instead she sat down as far away as she possibly could on the small couch. Mulder noticed this as well, but didn't say anything about it. He just assumed that she needed her own space. Still, he couldn't help but to wish that she had sat down closer to him. He wanted to feel her close. He hadn't touched her for so long. Not even been able to put his hand at the small of her back, afraid that she would take it the wrong way. "Is it okay if I turn a light on?" he asked her. If he couldn't touch her, he at least wanted to be able to see her. After a few seconds, Scully said hesitantly, "Yeah." Mulder reached over and turned on the light he knew stood right next to the couch. It wasn't a big lamp, and it didn't give away much light. But he could see her. She wasn't looking at him; it was as if she was afraid to meet his eyes. "Scully?" Now she turned her head to face him. She had a look in her eyes that he couldn't place. He had never seen it before. "What was it you wanted to tell me?" he asked her. She had wanted him to come over, and he wouldn't leave until she had said what she was going to say. "Everything," she simply answered. This was so hard for her. She hadn't talked about the rape with anyone, not even with Dr. Devon, and she didn't know how to begin. She looked away from him again. If she was going to tell him everything, she couldn't bear seeing the look on his face. She knew that this would hurt him almost as much as it hurt her. It was almost as if they lived their lives through each other. What one of them felt, the other one felt as well. If one felt joy, the other felt joy. And if one felt pain... the other one felt pain. Mulder just stayed quiet. He knew that she would start speaking again when she felt ready. He would not push her into telling him anything she didn't feel comfortable with. If she wanted to tell him, he would listen. If not... well, he would wait until she did. "I was raped, Mulder," she started. As if he didn't already know this. But this was the first time she had actually said it out loud. It was something she had had to say. To admit to herself that it had really happened. "He... I don't remember his face, Mulder..." Mulder nodded, even though Scully wasn't looking at him. He didn't say anything, just nodded at her words. "I don't *want* to remember his face... I think I decided not to remember, and now I can't." She paused for a minute or two. "I shot him. I grabbed my gun, and I shot him. But he kept moving towards me. I couldn't escape him. The bullets ripped through him, but they didn't hurt him. I don't know what he was." Her voice started sounding panicked, and Mulder wanted to hold her in his arms. But instead he stayed where he was and let her go on. "He was... I don't know! Not human! I don't know how to explain it. But how could someone human not be affected by a bullet in the heart? I... And he kept calling himself the 'chosen one', and said that he had chosen me. What the hell did he mean by that, Mulder?" Mulder didn't know. He didn't understand what kind of person this man was. If Scully remembered it right, he had no idea. At first he thought that she might have imagined all of it. Not the rape, of course, but that she had shot him and actually hit him. The forensics report on the gun had told him that she had fired it, but maybe she had missed her target? But that had not been the case. Only three bullets had been found in the wall in the office, which made sense, since Scully had told him that she had hit the man three times. Who was this man? 'The chosen one'... "He was evil, Mulder. I could feel it when he came into the room. It was as if... as if he was made of pure evil. I couldn't stop screaming..." Mulder knew this, and it had frightened him. Mrs. Scully had told him about the guard finding her screaming on the floor, unable to make her stop. That was not how he wanted to picture Scully. More than 20 minutes passed by before Scully spoke again. And nothing could have prepared him for what she told him. "I'm pregnant, Mulder." Mulder looked over at her in shock. Had she just said what he thought she had? Yes. She had. She was pregnant? But that wasn't possible. Scully couldn't conceive a child. Not since her abduction. Either Scully or Dr. Devon had made a mistake. "I *am* pregnant, Mulder. I don't know how or why it happened, but it did." He should have known she would be able to know what he was thinking. That was the way they were. Most of the time, anyway... "But how?" Mulder spoke for the first time since Scully had started speaking. He looked over at her, and realized that Scully had started crying. Her head was bent forward over her legs, and big tears fell down on her trousers. They were silent tears. She didn't move a bone in her body; she didn't blink with her eyes. She just let her eyes well up with tears, and didn't stop them from falling. She looked so small and fragile. He wanted to protect her from all the evil in the world, if she would only let him. That was not how he usually looked at her. Small and fragile. Scully would kill him if he did. No, Scully was a strong and independent woman. But not even she could handle a thing like this. Some things could break even the strongest person. Scully didn't answer his question. She wasn't even sure if he expected an answer from her, or if he had just asked it because of the shock. She didn't know how it could have happened. She knew she could not have a child of her own. It was one of her biggest grieves. That she would get to carry a child because of this... How anyone could handle living in a world this unfair, she didn't understand. Scully thought back to when she had spent her Christmas with her mother, Bill, and his very pregnant wife. She had been really happy for Bill and Tara. She had. But deep inside another feeling had been gnawing at her. A feeling of jealousy. Jealousy because Tara was having a baby, and she would never be able to. Then she had met Emily. Emily... A miracle that was never meant to be, as Mulder had called her. But she had been her daughter. She had given her some meaning to her life. When Emily had died, Scully had felt a feeling of loss that she had never felt before. Not even when her father or Melissa died. Something about Emily had been so special. Maybe because she *was* a miracle. She had learned she would never be able to conceive a child, and there she was. *Her* child, even if she hadn't given birth to her. "Will you keep it?" Mulder's voice drew her away from her deep thoughts. This time he did expect an answer. For the first time that evening, Scully looked at Mulder. Really looked at him. His eyes met with hers. They locked for a second or two, before Scully turned away again. She took a long and deep breath and then rose from the couch. Without looking at him again, she walked out to the kitchen. "Do you want some coffee?" she called out to him. Coffee? Coffee?! He didn't want any damn coffee! She was trying to avoid talking to him, but he wouldn't let her get away that easy this time. She had brought it up, and she would finish it this time. Mulder quickly got up from the couch, and followed her out into the kitchen. Scully could feel him come up close behind her. He was so close. She could sense his hands just above her shoulders. But he had stopped himself before he let them touch her. He had noticed her stiffen as he came close, and had stopped. Why had she tensed up like that? She missed his touch. It had been so long since she had felt his hands, and she had never thought she would miss them as much as she did. But she couldn't help herself. The second any man, even Mulder, came too close, she simply panicked. She couldn't help it... "Scully?" She imagined she could feel his hot breath on her neck, and closed her eyes. "Please, Scully. Let me in." His voice was so low, almost a whisper. And so soft. He wasn't mad at her. She still held one of the coffee cups in her hand, and Mulder slowly took it away from her, still careful not to let his hand touch hers. "I don't want any coffee, Scully," he said. "I just want you to open up to me." Scully's head slumped forward. Why did he care so much about her? Why couldn't he do what everybody else did? Just leave her alone. Then she realized she didn't want him not to care. She was grateful that he cared. What would she do without him? If he one day just stopped caring? She didn't know. "I'm sorry, Mulder," she said. "I'm so sorry..." "Scully, you don't have to be sorry. I just want you to trust me." She turned around and faced him. "I do," she said. "You know I do..." She couldn't handle looking into his eyes, and instead looked down at her feet. Mulder raised his hand to her face. He wanted to touch her so badly, but let his hand drop again. Scully had seen his hand coming up towards her face, and she had closed her eyes, waiting for his hand to reach her cheek, to touch her. But it hadn't. "You want to know... if I'm gonna keep the baby..." she said slowly, trying to let it all sink in. "I don't know, Mulder. I really don't know." "Come on, Scully. Let's go back to the living room." Scully followed him back to the couch, where they sat down exactly where they had been sitting just a few minutes earlier. "Talk to me, Scully. Let me in." Keep the baby... How would she be able to? How would she be able *not* to? For the second time that evening, her thoughts wandered back to Emily. When she had thought that Emily was Melissa's daughter, she had wanted to adopt her so badly. When she found out that she was her own daughter, she had wanted it even more. It was like she had told her mother. She hadn't realized how much she wanted a child, until she found out she couldn't have any. But what if... "I think maybe you should keep it, Scully," Mulder's voice interrupted her thoughts. She looked up at him. "What?" "I think you should keep the baby," he said again. "Maybe this is God's way of giving you another chance to have your own child." "You don't believe in God, Mulder," she said, and returned her gaze to her folded hands again. "I know," he answered. "But you do, Scully." Yes. She did. Her right hand went up to the cross that hung around her neck. The same cross she had given to Emily not so long ago. The cross that had been returned to her when Emily died. Now when she wore it, her heart was always with Emily. She hoped that her little daughter was happy now. That she didn't have to suffer anymore. "Mulder..." she said, hesitantly. "What if..." She paused. "What?" Mulder asked her carefully. She once again looked at him. "What if this child will be evil?" she said. "Like him?" Mulder could see the fear in her eyes. "And what if it will be a constant reminder of what happened to me? Will I be able to love this child? Or will I hate it?" Her voice sounded almost desperate. "Scully..." Mulder said, but then stopped. How would he be able to make her realize? "Scully," he started again. "You are the most loving person I have ever known." His voice was soft and reassuring. "If anyone could love this child, it would be you. And you *will* love it, Scully. Because even if it was conceived the way it was, it is still *your* child. Just like Emily." He watched her reaction as he mentioned Emily's name, and realized that Scully had already been thinking of her. He continued. "You didn't give birth to Emily. She wasn't even completely human. She was the result of your abduction. But you still loved her. Probably more than you have ever loved anyone in your entire life. Don't you think you could be able to love this child too?" Scully sat silent for a long time, letting Mulder's words sink in to her mind. What he said was true. She had loved Emily, like she hadn't thought she was able to love anyone. But... "I don't know, Mulder," she said, honestly. "I don't understand how God could've wanted me to conceive a child like this." "Well, I guess you should wait for a while, and see how you feel about it then," he suggested. "I just want you to really consider this, Scully." She nodded. Mulder looked at his watch. It was already past midnight. "Maybe I should be heading home. Do you want me to give you a ride back to your mom's?" he offered. "Actually, no," she answered him, and Mulder watched her with his eyebrows raised. Scully smiled weakly, and explained. "As I said, she's constantly watching over me. I know she only means well, but I can't stand it right now. I think I want to stay here." "Do you think that's wise?" She shouldn't be on her own. "No," she simply said. Then, "That's why I want to ask you if you could stay here with me tonight. I don't want to be alone, Mulder." "Of course I'll stay with you if you want me to," Mulder said to her and gave her a small smile, which she to his surprise returned. It was a smile that lit up her face. It didn't quite reach her eyes, but it was still the best thing he had seen for a long time. "Thank you," she said, and then rose from the couch, and started making her way to the bedroom. When Mulder didn't move to follow her, she turned around. "Are you coming?" At the look on his face, she continued, "Look, Mulder. I *really* don't want to be alone, and that means I don't want you to sleep out here on the couch. Now, come on." With that she went into the bedroom, and then to the bathroom, where she changed into her nightshirt. When she came back into the room again, she found Mulder sitting in the chair next to her bed, with a blanket over him. She crawled under the covers, and then softly said Mulder's name. He turned his eyes to her. "Come here," she said and patted on the bed next to her. "That doesn't look too comfortable, and I don't want to be the reason you're not going to be able to walk tomorrow. We can share my bed." Mulder at first wasn't sure what he was going to do, but when he saw Scully's pleading eyes, he threw away the blanket and crawled into the bed next to Scully. But he was lying as far away from her as possible. Scully slowly turned around to face him in the big bed. He was looking at her, straight into her dark, deep blue eyes. She closed her eyes for a moment, and then opened them again. Her eyes locked with his immediately. "Mulder..." she whispered. "Will you hold me tonight?" The words had been spoken so softly, that Mulder wasn't sure he had heard her right. But her eyes said it all. She needed to feel safe, and for some reason, he made her feel that way. "Are you sure?" he asked her. He hadn't touched her in such a long time, and by holding her, he would definitely have to touch her. She nodded. "Yes." They moved closer to the other simultaneously, and when they were only inches away from each other, Mulder slowly raised his arm. Once again, he asked her if she was sure this was what she wanted, and she gave him the same answer as before. With that, he lowered his arm, and he touched her for the first time in an eternity. It felt so incredibly good, and he never wanted to let her go again. Then he felt her tense under his arm, and he took it away. But Scully stopped him. "No," she said. "Hold me." And he did. He put his left arm around her back, and then put the other one under her, making her head rest on it. She cuddled up closer to him, and he could feel her hot breath on his neck. The closer she pushed herself against him, the tighter he held on to her. Her soft hair tickled his cheek. Suddenly she started shaking. He pulled her even closer, if that was possible, and stroked her back gently. He felt her wet tears dripping down on his T-shirt, and he closed his eyes tightly together. Scully sobbed into his chest, unable to hold it all back. The feeling of Mulder holding her had just made her let it all come out. All the hurt, all the fear. She knew she could do it. She knew Mulder would still respect her, even if she cried in his arms. So the sobs became even harder, as Mulder tenderly kissed her forehead, just like he had done when she had had the cancer. That small gesture had meant so much to her then. Like it did now. Mulder couldn't handle seeing and feeling Scully this way. He wished there was something he could do to make all the pain just go away. But there wasn't. This was something that had to take its time to heal. He just hoped she *would* heal. Feeling the wetness of her tears sip through his T-shirt to his skin, made tears rise in his own eyes. He couldn't stop them. And in a way he didn't want to stop them. He hurt too. Maybe he needed to cry as well. Scully felt a tear land in her hair, and she hugged him harder, finding herself trying to comfort him. In return he whispered soft words into her hair, and finally they simply held on to each other as if their lives depended on it. "I love you, Scully." He was surprised the words had come out so easily, like he had said them a hundred times before. "I know," she answered. Because she did know. Somehow, she just knew. And she believed him. They lay silent for a long time, and then Scully whispered back, "Me too." Mulder wasn't sure he had heard her say those words, or if they had just been a part of his imagination. He moved his head to look down at her, and as he opened his mouth to ask her, he saw that she was already asleep. He moved her face back to his neck again, and continued stroking her hair, over and over in fluid movements. Soon, he was asleep as well. * * * * Mulder slowly opened his eyes. It was still dark outside, but he had been woken up by Scully's absent body next to him. Where was she? At first he panicked, but then he heard the low sounds of the water running in the bathroom. Was she taking a shower? At... 3:40 in the morning?! Not even Scully got up that early. He tried to blink the sleep out of his eyes, and then got out of the bed. He walked over to the bathroom door, and then stopped in front of it. "Scully?" he asked softly, laying his forehead against the door. She didn't answer. She probably hadn't even heard him. So he once again said her name, this time a little louder, so she would hear him over the running water. She still didn't answer him. Then he heard it. He slowly opened the door, only to find a crying Scully sitting in the bathtub, with the water running over her petite body. Her body was shaking violently from the sobs. Her head was bent down, obscuring her face from his view. But he didn't have to see her face to know what it would look like. Scully hardly ever let him see her cry. He could count the times on one hand. But the image came back to him in a heartbeat. The Donnie Pfaster case. That was the first time she had truly let him *see* her. She had tried to tell him that she was fine, as she always did. But when he had put his hand under her cheek, and forced her to look up at him, she had surrendered to her feelings, and leaned into him. Tonight he had seen her cry more times than all the others together. That was something he had never wanted. She had finally succumbed to the pain, and once again cried while in his arms. "Scully," he whispered, trying to get her attention. But she didn't hear him. "Scully?" he said a little louder this time. She looked up at him in shock. The water ran down her sweet face, mingling with the salty tears running from her eyes. She quickly tried to cover herself, but then realized there was no point in doing so. Instead she returned her eyes to his, only to find them staring into hers. She could see so much in those eyes. Friendship. Caring. Love. But not what she had expected from him. Pity. No pity. Instead she saw the pain, reflecting her own soul. It was as if she was seeing herself through his eyes. She watched him in a daze as he moved to turn the water off above her. Then he held out a hand for her to take. She looked down at it, as if she was wondering what it was. His strong hand, reaching out for her, trying to pull her back to the world. Then she grabbed it, and he helped her up on her feet. On eye-to-eye level, he put her arms around his neck, and lifted her out of the bathtub; her naked body pressing up against him. Before setting her down on the floor again, he held her close to him; letting his T-shirt get soaked, but not minding it one bit. He needed to feel her close. And feeling Scully clinging to him, made him realize that she needed the exact same thing as well. "I feel so dirty, Mulder," she said in his ear, still shaking from crying. "So dirty... I can't get the feeling of him off of me." He let her slide down to the cold floor. He held her head in both his hands, and gently kissed the top of it. Her arms were still wrapped around his body, as she raised her eyes to his. Her lower lip was quivering. If it was from the newfound coldness or the crying, he didn't know. Then she suddenly stood up on her toes, and touched her lips to his. It was just a quick brush, but to Mulder it was the most wonderful thing he had ever felt. He looked at her with questions in his eyes, and she kissed him again, this time harder, trying to slip her tongue into his hot mouth. But he wouldn't let her. This was the last thing she needed right now. He held her face in his hands, and she looked up at him; her eyes full of trust. "Mulder... I need you." She placed her hands on his chest, letting them travel up to his neck. "I need you," she said again, her voice barely louder than a soft whisper. He could hear the longing in her voice; the desire he had been wishing to hear for as long as he could remember. But no matter how much he wanted this; no matter how much he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her, love her, it wasn't the right thing to do. She was still struggling with the feelings from being raped. Having sex was something she should not do. Even if it was with someone she loved. Someone who loved her. And he told her this. But she objected. Searching his eyes with hers, she let her fingers trail over his cheek. "Make love to me, Mulder." "Scully..." She continued stroking his cheek, and he grabbed her hand, holding on to it. "Scully, I don't think we should do this right now." She closed her eyes, her head slumping forward. Placing his fingers under her chin, he forced her to look up at him again. "Scully, listen to me." She nodded slightly, and he continued. "I don't think we should do this right now. No matter how much I want to." She looked from his eyes to their clasped hands, and then back to his eyes again. She could see the desire in his eyes, but the fear was still there. The fear of hurting her; of causing her more pain. She gave his hand a quick squeeze, and then she kissed him again; this time even harder than the last time, and she didn't give up until Mulder's mouth finally opened underneath her own. Mulder quickly took over command of the kiss, almost devouring her. His hands traveled down her wet body, then up to her hair again, tilting her head so that he could deepen the kiss even more. A low moan escaped from Scully's throat, and Mulder realized with a start what he was doing. He broke the kiss. His fingers were still tangled in her hair as she opened her eyes and looked up at him again. Her eyes were shiny; both from unshed tears and from the desire she was feeling. Desire she hadn't thought she would be able to feel again. "Mulder... I know you don't think this is what I need..." He nodded. "But you're wrong. I need to feel loved Mulder." She once again raised her hand to his face, letting her index finger trace his bottom lip. Her next words came out with no hesitation at all. "Love me." And he did. * * * * Someone else was holding her in his arms. Someone else was touching her. Someone else was making love to her. Someone was doing this to *his* woman. It was time to act. He got up from his bed, and prepared himself, so that he would be ready for what might come. He looked at his own reflection in the mirror, but all he could see was the redhead... with another man. Rage was building up inside him; taking over his mind completely. This was something he could not accept. This was something he *would* not accept. She had to be punished. * * * * He carefully laid her down on the bed, putting one of the soft pillows under her head. Her wet hair spread out on it, and he put one of his hands to her face, softly stroking away a stray strand that lay over her forehead. His touch was so gentle, it almost made her cry. She grabbed his hand in hers, and put it against her cheek. She let her fingers trail over his hand as she searched his eyes with hers. They locked immediately, and in her eyes, her every feeling was displayed. She was still afraid, but she wasn't afraid of him. He could see the love and desire she held inside her. But most of all, he could see her trust. Her trust in him. Lacing his fingers with hers, he slowly lowered his head to capture her full lips in a gentle kiss. It started out almost chaste, his lips simply moving over hers, as she stayed still underneath him. Then she caught his bottom lip between her own, and started sucking on it lightly, gently biting down on it, then soothing it with her tongue. He moaned into her mouth, and she let her tongue slip into his mouth; probing, tasting. Their tongues got caught up in a fierce battle, as Mulder deepened the kiss. He grabbed her head in both of his hands, stroking her cheeks, her hair, her neck, as he kissed her with all the love he felt for her. Their tongues stroke against each other, pushed into each other's mouths. Finally, they had to break away, their lips just barely loosing contact, both gasping for air. Their hot breaths mingled, as Mulder raised his head slightly to look at her. Their mouths were only mere millimeters away from each other, and he imagined he could still feel her soft lips against his own. Her eyes were open, watching him. They were the deepest, darkest blue color he had ever seen. The color of pure desire. "I love you," he whispered, and she closed her eyes at his words. He caressed her face with his hands and said, "Scully... look at me." She opened her eyes again. "I would never do anything to hurt you, Scully. Never." She ran her fingers through his tousled hair. "I know," she replied softly, and he knew she was telling him the truth. "I love you, too." His hands stilled on her face. "Are you sure you want this?" He had to know for sure. If she wasn't completely ready, if she even for a second felt that he was forcing her into doing something she didn't want, he would never be able to forgive himself. But she simply raised her head and kissed him again before giving him her answer. "I'm sure, Mulder." Her eyes filled with tears, but she was smiling. And the smile reached her eyes. "Love me." Mulder smiled back at her, more happy than he could ever express to see that look in her eyes. He leaned down to once again give her a passionate kiss, showing her exactly how much he loved her. When he released her lips from his own, her breathing was heavy, and he could see and feel the arousal building in her. She watched him with heavy lidded eyes as one of his hands traveled down to fondle her right breast. His mouth slowly made its way to her ear; nibbling her earlobe. She gasped and pushed up against him. Her sounds of encouragement made his desire rise even more, and he could feel himself harden against her thigh. He realized immediately that Scully had felt the same thing, as she reached down. But he stopped her. This was about her, and only her. He let himself slide down her still wet body, kissing his way down her throat, while his hands roamed over her body. Her head helplessly fell to the side as she sighed, giving him better access. His mouth was doing wonders to her body and mind; setting her entire being on fire. His hot tongue continued down her chest, and he let it flick out over her already hardened nipple, while at the same time mimicking his actions with his fingers on her other. Her soft whimpers made him continue down her body. His tongue swirled around and into her navel, and she arched up against him. It amazed him that she was able to put so much trust in him. He moved even further, but made sure he avoided her center. It wasn't time yet. He took one of her small feet in his hand and kissed it softly before giving the same attention to the other. They looked so small and delicate in his hands, and he marveled at the fact that she managed run with him every week; always keeping up. He kissed his way up her slim legs, her stomach, her chest, until his mouth finally reached her lips again. She did everything but devour him with her hard and fevered kiss. Sweat had broken out on her forehead, mingling with the few drops of water that were still left. She could hardly believe he was making her feel this way. His touches, kisses, were so incredibly soft, gentle, careful... They only made her love for him even stronger; even more powerful. Each time she felt his lips touch to her sensitive, flushed skin, she wanted to cry out; she wanted to grab him, hold him close, kiss him, and tell him to never let go of her again. He looked up at her and searched her eyes, waiting for her to find her focus again. Her eyes were shadowy, as if she was looking at him through a veil, but they hid nothing. She grazed him with a beautiful smile, and he started down her body again. She moaned softly as his tongue snaked out to lave at the sensitive skin on her neck. Her hand reached out to grab his, and he looked up at her again. Her eyes had closed, but the smile was still playing on her lips. He sat up next to her, releasing her hand. He brought her knees up, and then placed one of his hands on them. "Scully...?" A soft whisper. Her eyes opened, and blue eyes locked with hazel once again. Silently, he asked her for permission. Her eyelids were heavy, and she closed her eyes. But there was no hesitation in her nod. He put his hands between her knees and gently eased them apart. Positioning himself between her legs, he raised one of them with his hand, placing a feather light kiss in her knee cavity. A mixture between a sigh and a giggle escaped from Scully, and he repeated his actions, eliciting yet another wonderful sigh. His lips moved further up, and he nuzzled her inner thighs. He loved the way her skin felt there; so incredibly soft. Softer than he'd ever been able to imagine. Then he reached his final goal. One of his hands continued its gentle journey over her body, as he used the other one to part her swollen folds. At first he simply let his fingers tangle in the soft hair they encountered; teasing her, letting her get used to the feeling. Then he slipped one single finger inside of her, and she moaned above him, bucking up against his hand. Her hands gripped the sheets under her, as she tried to control her body's reactions. Thoughts were swirling through her mind, faster and faster until she couldn't connect one thought to the other. But then he slowly rubbed her taut bundle of nerves, and every single thought disappeared from her mind. He was taking her places she had never been before; places she had never even dreamt of in her wildest fantasies. He had paid attention to every single part of her body with kisses, touches. That someone could make her feel this way... so alive. So desired. So loved. It was something she had never felt, experienced. Something she had never thought she would feel. He replaced his fingers with his mouth, suckling her, and she gasped loudly, calling his name, grabbing his head with her hands, pushing herself closer to his mouth. Placing his hands under her buttocks, he lifted her hips up; licking her, tasting her. His tongue swirled around her, inside her, over her, until her body was shaking uncontrollably. Right before she was about to be pushed over the edge, he released her, making her come down again. He reached up and met her in a slow kiss. She could taste herself on his lips; a smoky, tangy taste. She encircled his neck with her arms, drawing him even closer to herself. Breaking their kiss, he propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at her. His hand found its way to her face, his fingers playing over her soft features, then finding themselves in her hair. She watched him with amazement in her eyes at his gentle caresses. "I love you," she whispered softly. "I love you," he whispered back, his voice dark and husky with desire. Desire for her. The words were filled with such complete adoration, and she had to bite down on her lip to keep the tears from welling up in her eyes. She put one of her hands on the back of his head, pulling him down for another kiss. She couldn't feel his lips against hers enough. She would never tire of his kisses, his touches... his whispered words of love in her ear. "Scully..." he said against her lips, and she let her head fall back on the pillow again. "Are you sure you're completely ready for this?" She started to say something, but he put his fingers to her lips, silencing her. "I want you to be completely sure, Scully. There can be no doubts. If I do something you don't want me to do, I want you to tell me. Don't hold anything back. Okay?" He removed his fingers from her mouth, and she nodded. "Okay." She was barely able to get the two syllables out. She couldn't believe the love she felt for this man. The trust she felt for him. "I need you," she said then. There was no shame in her voice as she uttered the words. "I want you." He quickly swooped down, claiming her mouth with his, before rolling them over until she was straddling him. She looked down at him, confusion in her eyes. "You're in charge now," he explained, holding her face in his hands, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. "You make the decisions." This time she was unable to stop the tears. They spilled over, running down her cheeks, and he caught them with his thumbs, wiping them away as they fell. He understood her better than she understood herself. He knew what she needed better than she knew herself. And if it had been humanly possible, she would have loved him even more than she already did. She didn't know what to tell him; she didn't know how to express what she was feeling. So she didn't. Instead she let her eyes speak for her, and when she saw the same feelings, the same thought, being reflected in his, she knew with a certainty that almost frightened her that this was right. Nothing could ever be more right. She guided him inside her, squeezing her inner muscles around him, making him moan her name underneath her. She was so incredibly tight, and her wet juices made her able to take him even deeper inside herself. Both of them staying completely still for a few moments, she let herself get used to him, relaxing her muscles, pushing herself even further down on him. Mulder's hands were at her sides, but they were simply resting there in his need to touch her. Every decision was made by her. She raised her body, and he almost slipped out of her, before letting herself come down on him again. She repeated the motion over and over again, falling into a comfortable rhythm, and Mulder moved with her, his hips raising in time to meet her thrusts. He moved his hands from her sides, letting them travel up to her breast, caressing them, rolling her sensitive, hardened nipples between his skilled fingers. She drew slow circles over his chest with her fingers, and then she leaned down to gently bite down on his nipple, letting her tongue swirl around it, soothingly. Their lower bodies started moving more frantically, losing their synchronized rhythm, until it was the only thing either of them could focus on. Mulder's last coherent thought was making himself lower his hand to stroke her, and the next thing he knew, she contracted around him, screaming his name. Her inner muscles squeezed him, pulled him into her, and with one last thrust, he emptied himself inside her, his warm seed filling her shaking body. She fell down on his chest, exhausted, with him still inside of her. She rested her head in the crook of his neck, breathing in the musky scent that could only come from love making. His arms closed around her back, and they relaxed into each other. Finally he rolled them over slightly, and he slipped out of her. He hugged her tightly to him as she did the same, letting their bodies' closeness be a substitute for the closeness they had just shared. Her head rested on his chest, her hair spreading out on it. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, and she smiled against him. The darkness in her soul had disappeared. The pain that had devoured her body had been replaced by the memory of ecstasy and passion. She couldn't stop the tears that filled her eyes, and her body trembled slightly, causing Mulder to put his hand under her chin, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. As he saw the wetness in her eyes, the worry raised in him immediately. Had it been the wrong thing to do after all? But her reassuring hand on his cheek stopped all those thoughts. She smiled at him, a single tear making a wet pattern down her cheek. And as he heard her words, he crushed her to him again. "Thank you." * * * * Someone was in her mind; looking into her deepest thoughts, invading her memories. She tried to escape, but the invader pushed through even harder, even deeper. Then she saw it. A blurry image of his face. The evil grin. And she started to remember. Scully woke from her sleep with a start, a loud gasp escaping her lips. Mulder stirred next to her and she put her hand on his shoulder, trying to wake him up. "Mulder... Mulder?" When he didn't seem to respond, she shook his shoulder harder until he finally opened his tired eyes, looking up at her. Using his arms, he pushed himself up until he was sitting next to her. What was wrong? He glanced at the alarm clock standing next to her bed. It was only 5:46 AM. Then he noticed the absolutely panicked look in her eyes. "Scully? What's wrong?" He placed what he hoped was a comforting hand on her arm, and was pleased when she accepted it there. "It was him, Mulder," she said with a strained voice, looking away from him. "I... I could feel him in my mind." She wasn't making any sense to him at all. "What do you mean, Scully?" She turned around slightly, only to face him with a painful expression on her face. "He was in my mind," she told him slowly. "I could feel him. I could almost hear his thoughts inside my head." She took a deep, shaky breath, trying to pull herself together. "It was as if... I don't know. As if he was reading my thoughts; experiencing my feelings." She felt the lump grow in her throat, and her eyes filled with tears. She angrily wiped them away. Tears wouldn't help her now. Mulder tried to pull her into his arms, but this time she didn't let him. "Mulder?" she said, looking up at him. "Yes?" "I think I know who it was. I think I know who..." She could hardly get the words out, but forced herself. "I think I know who raped me, Mulder." Mulder was immediately up on his feet. He walked around the bed, and crouched on the floor next to Scully. He took her small hands in his, and said the one word that would have been so simple normally, but that now meant so much. "Who?" She tried hard to remember his face, but she still couldn't see him clearly. All she could see was his grin... and the look he'd had in his eyes. She put her hands in front of her eyes, trying to get rid of the image in her head and willing it forward at the same time. "Scully, who-" "I don't know!" she screamed out, more angry with herself for not remembering than anything else. "I don't know..." she repeated, her voice lower. He placed his hands on her knees, and when she didn't move, he encircled her with his arms, pulling her to him. She went willingly, placing her head on his shoulder with her arms going around his back. She closed her eyes tightly. She didn't want to cry. Not now. Not ever again. But feeling Mulder's hands gently stroke her bare back, she couldn't fight them anymore, and she surrendered. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, silent tears wetting his skin. Her sobs were silent, sending tiny ripples through her body. He continued stroking her back, her hair, but didn't say anything. He simply held her, comforted her. He felt her every sob like an electric shock through his body, but he did not cry. She didn't need him to cry. She needed him to be there for her. To be strong for her. And he would be. The sobs slowly subsided, and she pulled away from him. Instead of holding her, he took her hands in his, stroking his thumbs over her knuckles. Looking at him with shiny eyes, she said, "He was one of my students at Quantico." Before Mulder got the chance to ask her his next question, which she knew would come any second, she continued, "No, I don't remember his name or his face, Mulder." She sighed, once again angry with herself for not remembering more. "I just know that he was in my class." "Scully, do you think you would recognize him if you saw him again?" She closed her eyes, once again trying to will forward the image of someone she wished she would never have to see again. But she saw it. The grin. The eyes. And she knew. "Yes," she answered, opening her eyes again. "Yes, I would recognize him." Mulder smiled at her and squeezed her hands lovingly. "We'll catch him, Scully. We'll put him away for life. You'll be safe." She offered him a weak smile in return, but it wasn't in her eyes. This was still so extremely hard for her. He knew that it always would be. But he would be there to help her through the pain, the anguish, now that she would finally let him. She looked down at their entwined hands, watching as his thumbs moved in slow circles over her hands, down over her fingers. She looked up at him again, straight into his eyes. "Mulder, do you love me?" The question came out just like that, with such sincerity and warmth. He saw the worried look on her face, and he answered her seriously, making sure she would understand that he really meant what he said. "With all that I am." Then Scully freed herself from the grip he had on her hands, and she put her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. "I love you," she simply said, her voice once again strong, making her sound as if she were invincible. Mulder hugged her back, and for a few seconds, they shared one of those moments when they were in their own world, and nothing could ever come between them or harm them. But they were quickly pulled back into reality again. Mulder once again stood up. "Get dressed, Scully," he said. "I'll go out and buy us some breakfast, and when we're finished eating, you and I are going to catch this man." Scully looked unsure, and he continued, "I promise you, Scully. We'll make it through this - together." She nodded and got out of the bed as well. They dressed in silence, but looked at each other the whole time, each reassuring the other that they were going to make it. They were. When Mulder was finished, he leaned over and planted a quick kiss on her lips. "I'll be back in five," he whispered, and then went out the door. Scully smiled sadly to herself as she watched him go. Why had it taken them such a long time to realize this - to realize that they needed each other more than anything? They had wasted so much time with their insecurities, their games. Why had something as bad as this had to happen before they could finally admit their true feelings toward each other? She would never know, and she realized there was no use thinking about it. What was done was done. And nothing she or he did now would ever change that. The saying 'better late than never' came to mind, and she found herself wishing that Mulder hadn't left to buy breakfast. They had already lost so much time together. She didn't want to lose any more. She went out to the kitchen, and started making some coffee to go with their breakfast when he returned. She couldn't remember how many times she and Mulder had had to rely on coffee to keep them awake through endless nights in a car during their years together. She carefully took down two cups from the cupboard, and placed them on the table next to each other. She turned around to the refrigerator and took out some cream for her coffee... Everything went black. * * * *