******The Fragile Trilogy Compiled******* Uspeakable Acts Fragile Fragile - The Sequel ************************************ Fragile - Unspeakable Act by Leyla Harrison Personal Disclaimer/Summary/Rating: Many people out there have read Fragile, a story I wrote just over a year ago. What you're about to read is what happened before that story started. This story contains a violent rape and is rated NC-17 for violence and language. If this disturbs you, please stop reading now. I want to say that I really appreciate everyone who wrote to me in support of Fragile. It's a really hard story to read - not to mention that it was hell to write. This one was no different. But like I said when I wrote Fragile, it was a very necessary story to write, and I believe that I made the right decision to post it. I feel the same way about this story. Some things just take more time to come out than others. ******** Dana Scully finished up the last of the dishes from dinner and headed into the bathroom, brushing her teeth and surveying her appearance in the mirror critically. You need more than a good night's sleep, she thought wryly. You need a vacation, Dana, my dear. She turned the lights off in the apartment and headed for the bedroom, where she took off the robe that she was wearing and hung it up on the back of the bedroom door. She left the light on by the nightstand and set her alarm for the morning. It was only 9pm, and she wanted to try to read for a while before she fell asleep. She was just getting comfortable in bed when the phone rang. She picked up the cordless that was by her bed. "Hello?" "Hey, Scully, it's me." "Mulder." "Who else?" She could hear the lighthearted tone, but she knew him well enough to hear exhaustion underneath it. So he was tired, too. "What's wrong, Mulder?" There was a pause, as if he was shaking his head in disbelief that she knew that he was actually calling for a specific reason, instead of just calling to say hello. "Who said there has to be something wrong? I'm just calling to offer my services to you tomorrow and drive you in to work." "Since when do I need a car and driver?" "Since the Weather Channel predicted that there was going to be about ten inches of snow tonight. And I know how you hate to drive in the snow." Scully sighed, a bit annoyed. His tone wasn't condescending. It was just that he was right. And she hated when he was right. But he was being incredibly sincere - offering to pick her up, even though it was out of his way. Scully sighed. "Is that a yes?" Scully chuckled. "I'll see you around 7:30, Mulder," she answered. "You bring the car, I'll supply the coffee." "See you in the morning, Scully." Scully hung up the phone and picked up her book. About ten minutes later, she found that her eyes were heavy. Five thirty will be here before you know it, she told herself, taking off her glasses and setting the book down, then turning off the light. ***** Sometime in the middle of the night, Scully was awakened by the sound of a thump. A muffled thump, but a thump nonetheless. She rolled over in bed, refusing to open her tired eyes. She waited, listening. It sounded like it came from the apartment across the hall, but she couldn't be sure. She opened her eyes reluctantly and checked the clock. 1:55am. She sighed. She got up from bed and looked out the window. Sure enough, snow was falling heavily. Mulder will never make it here by 7:30, she thought, unless he leaves around 5am. She crawled back in bed, having heard no more noises, and fell asleep almost immediately. ***** Something else woke her the next time, although she wasn't sure what it was. She opened her eyes again, glancing over at the nightstand to look at the clock. 2:59am. Her eyes were so tired. Her body ached. Normally, she never woke up during the night. I *do* need a vacation, she thought idly, then closed her eyes again. She was about to drift back off to sleep when she realized that her gun was not on the nightstand where she always left it. Her eyes flew open. There was a man standing next to her bed. She gasped, and tried to sit up in bed, but he was on top of her in an instant, pushing her back down. "Don't move, bitch," he muttered, and Scully could feel the icy cold of a knife up against her throat. She froze. "Don't move or make sound or I'll cut your throat." His hand reached for the blankets, pulling them off her. Oh, God. She knew what was coming. "I have money...jewelry..." she said quickly, her words coming out in a rush. "I said, shut up. I don't want your fucking money." He was on top of her now, straddling her hips, pulling at the sweatpants that she had worn to bed because it was chilly in the apartment. "Please," she murmured, afraid to move too much, for fear that the knife he held at her throat would slip and cut her. "Please, don't do this." He removed the knife then. "Listen to me. I want you to shut up." Scully stole a glance at him. Stay calm, she ordered herself. Look at his face. Memorize it. It was dark in the room, but she could see him. She stared at his features, trying to imprint them into her memory. The sound of his zipper was unbearably loud in the room. He was yanking at her sweatpants again, pulling them down, leaving her legs open to the night air. She felt goosebumps rise on her skin. Scully could feel his erection against her thigh. Oh, God, she prayed. Please, God. He yanked at her underwear, pulling them down with such brutality that she cried out. "Shut up!" he hissed, slapping her. "I'm sorry," she stuttered. She could feel his fingers probing her, and she closed her eyes. He slapped her again, harder this time. Her cheek stung. "Keep your eyes open, bitch." She felt him pushing into her. "You're not wet at all, are you?" he said in her ear. "That's OK. I can fuck you just fine like this." Scully winced at his words, at the feeling of him entering her, hard and cold. It hurt. He moved inside her. She gasped, and for a moment, bucked him, trying to push him off of her. "Damn it!" she cried, shoving at him. His fist came down on her face once, twice. He clawed at her, trying to hold her still. "Stop that. Stop that." The blows quieted her. She kept her eyes open. She watched the shadows from the window play across the ceiling. He was pushing at her, moving in and out of her, and she bit down on her lower lip to keep from crying out. She tasted blood, but wasn't sure if it was from him hitting her or from her teeth. Don't fight him, she thought. Let him do it. Get it over with. Then find the gun and... He smacked her again, dragging her back into reality. "Come on, you bitch!" he growled at her. She looked at his face. He was breathing heavily and his eyes were wild, his hair falling over his forehead. Terrified by what she saw in his eyes, she pulled her glance away and back to the ceiling. Silent tears slipped down her face. She couldn't wipe them away. There was near-silence in the room for a moment. The only noise was that of his body slapping against hers. Then Scully heard it. A siren. He heard it too, and stopped for a moment. Scully tried to ignore the sensation of him still inside her. "Fuck." He pulled out of her harshly, and she let out a whimper. He was off the bed in a second, and Scully didn't move. She listened. She heard him in her living room, then heard him at the living room window...which was how he must have gotten in. She waited for what seemed like ages. She didn't hear anything. Was he gone? Carefully, she sat up in bed. Her body ached tremendously. She managed to stand up and went to the window, and saw him in the street, running, slipping in the snow. An ambulance, the cause of the siren that had scared him off, turned the corner near Scully's house. She managed to find her underwear, bunched up in the blankets, and put them back on. She pulled her sweatpants back on and went into the living room. The window was open. He was gone. She closed the window. Realizing her teeth were clattering, she made her way back into the bathroom and found her other robe, a thick, plush white one, and put it on, wrapping it around her carefully. She looked in the mirror. Her face was bloody and swollen. She carefully got a washcloth and with trembling hands, moistened it and brought it to her face. She cleaned up the blood as best she could. Tears were still streaming down her face. Her whole body was shaking. She went back into the bedroom, leaving the light on in the bathroom, and looked around. Her gun was on the dresser, not on the nightstand. She realized dimly that she had left it there when she had gotten home from work. She turned all the lights on, blindly going from room to room, illuminating the entire apartment. Then she came back into the bedroom and stared at the bed. She couldn't sit down on it. Not after he had raped her in that bed. Scully ached to get right into the shower. To scrub that man's smell off of her. To be able to wash herself off. She knew she couldn't. Mulder. She had to call Mulder. Oh, God. Scully sat down right there on the floor of the bedroom and began to sob. All the tears she had managed to keep at bay for the last few years came out. Her body was heaving from it, and she tried uselessly to calm herself down. Mulder, she thought. I have to call Mulder. He'll help me. A moment of panic swept through her. She didn't want him to see her. Not like this. Not after... Not after that bastard, that *fucking* bastard, raped me. She never used language like that. She didn't want Mulder to see her like this. But I need him, she realized desperately. She made it to her feet again, shakily, and went into the living room. She found the phone and with trembling fingers dialed the number she knew by heart. It rang twice before Mulder's groggy voice answered. "Yeah, hello." Just the sound of his voice made tears fill her eyes again. She struggled to fight them as she heard him say hello again. "Mulder?" she managed to get out, her voice thick with tears. "Yeah, Scully, what's wrong?" His voice was still sleepy. She hated herself for having woken him up. It was so rare for him to get any sleep anyhow. "Mulder, can you come over here?" She could barely get the words out. "Scully, what's wrong?" He sounded more awake. She paused, swallowing hard. She couldn't say it over the phone. She couldn't tell him. "Please, Mulder." She closed her eyes tightly, forcing the tears back. "Please." He knew. Something in her voice told him that she needed him, and she knew it. "I'm on my way," he answered tensely, and she hung up the phone. She made her way over to the couch, and pulled the blanket over her body. She was still shaking. Still cold. She felt stickiness between her legs. Her face throbbed with pain. She sat on the couch and waited for Mulder to get there. He'll be here soon, she told herself. He's on his way. Hang on. Mulder's coming over. It'll be fine. ***** The ringing of the phone jarred Mulder from half-sleep to awake. He got up from the couch, the TV still on, and stumbled across the room to the phone. "Yeah, hello," he muttered into the receiver as he looked at his watch. Four thirty in the morning, he thought. Jesus. No one spoke on the other end of the phone, but Mulder could hear rustling noises in the background. "Hello?" he repeated, starting to get annoyed. He wasn't in the mood for a crank call. "Mulder?" It was Scully, but she didn't sound like herself. She sounded small and far away. "Yeah, Scully, what's wrong?" he asked. For her to call this late, he thought, it must be an emergency. And why does she sound like that? He started feeling much more awake than he had. "Can you come over here?" she asked, her voice still very far away. Now he could hear the tremors in her voice. His eyes were wide open and his adrenaline began to pump. "Scully, what's wrong?" he repeated. "Please, Mulder. Please." She didn't have to say anything more. It was the way she said it that got him. The urgency in her tone was unmistakable. "I'm on my way," he replied, and hung up the phone. He threw a warm sweater over the t-shirt he was already wearing, pulled his jeans on and put on shoes and a jacket. A few moments later, he was in the car. On the way to Scully's apartment, his thoughts raced. Had someone threatened her life? He pulled up in front of her building and parked the car. From outside he could see her apartment. Every light in the place was on. Something was wrong. He sprinted to the building and inside. He knocked on her door softly. It was, after all, very early in the morning. No need to disturb anyone else in the building. He could hear her approach the door, then a pause, then she unlocked it and opened it. Mulder stared at her in shock. She was wearing a white terry bathrobe and her hair was tousled. Her entire face looked as if it had been through ten rounds. Her lip was swollen and bleeding, and what appeared to be a black eye was beginning to show. Her other eye was puffy. She was standing funny, Mulder thought. She wasn t holding herself up with her usual self-assurance. There was a long, dark red scratch down the side of her left cheek, and her eyes were red from crying. What the hell... he started to ask. She took his arm and pulled him inside, shutting and locking the door behind him. Mulder-- Scully, what the hell happened to you? he asked. Who did this? His rage was building swiftly. He felt it getting stronger but hid it from her because of the fact that he didn t want to upset her. She stood in front of him, silent for a moment. She closed her eyes briefly and shook her head slightly, almost unnoticeably, except he knew her and he knew it meant she was trying to keep from crying. Scully, what happened? he repeated. She opened her eyes again, looked at him hard and he knew almost before she started to speak. Someone broke in. I was sleeping. Her words were coming out stiffly, almost mechanically. Mulder, he raped me. I need you to take me to the hospital. Mulder felt his heart pumping faster and he instantly took her arm. He wanted to pull her to him, to hold her. But as he took hold of her arm, she stiffened. He let go. Oh, God, Scully, he thought, no, not you. Not this. Are you alright? he asked, and she nodded, but didn t speak. Did you shower? She shook her head. OK, let s get you to the hospital. Do you want to get dressed? She nodded again. I m dressed, she told him. She untied the robe to reveal a pair of sweats and a t-shirt underneath. This is what I was wearing...I guess I should leave it on. He nodded. He was feeling sick. Just looking at her face, knowing that someone had hurt her like that, and then to know that they had raped her as well, infuriated him. He wouldn t let himself imagine her sleeping, while someone came in, held her down.... No, he told himself, don t imagine it. Don t even let yourself think it. He helped her get her shoes and coat on in silence, and followed her to the front door. Her muteness, her stiff actions, the fact that her eyes seemed almost glazed over, were worrying him more and more by the minute. She seemed to be fading away from him emotionally. You OK, Scully? he asked, and then wanted to kick himself for being so insensitive. Of course she wasn t OK. But she nodded and let him lock the door behind them. He helped her into the car and then shut the door for her. As he went around the car to get in on his side, he felt his rage building again. Whoever did this, he was thinking, that bastard, I ll kill him. He calmed his thoughts before he got into the car. She needs me to be strong, he thought. Scully was staring straight ahead through the windshield and continued to stare after he started the car and pulled away. The drove in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Mulder cleared his throat. He had to ask her one thing. Scully, did he have a weapon? She didn t even look at him. A knife, she answered, and the flat, dead tone in her voice shut him up for the rest of the drive. He pulled up in front of the emergency room and helped her out of the car. Her teeth immediately began to chatter, and she was shivering. She swayed a bit, and he put an arm around her. Is this OK? he asked softly, not wanting to touch her if she didn t want him to, and she looked at him, her eyes filling with new tears, and nodded. It made his throat tighten and he swallowed hard. He tightened his hold on her so that it felt supportive. Come on, let s get you inside. It s cold out here. Mulder steered Scully to the first person they saw, who, luckily, was a female resident whose name tag identified her as Dr. Joanne Wilson. Mulder pulled out his badge and spoke in low tones. I m Agent Fox Mulder with the FBI and this is my partner, Dana Scully. Someone broke into her apartment and raped her. The resident led them back to a private exam room and called for a nurse to help Scully. Agent Mulder? Dr. Wilson motioned for him to leave the room with her. Let s step outside so Dana can get changed. Mulder looked at Scully for the OK. For the first time since he had arrived at her apartment, he could see the fear in her eyes. Dana Scully was not a woman afraid of much. The realization of what had happened to her was hitting him with a punch. I ll be right back, he promised. He and Dr. Wilson went to the nurses station. I ve had our charge nurse call the police. They ll have to come down and take her statement. I m assuming she wants to report this? You ll have to ask her, Mulder responded. He glanced at his watch and noticed that it was only 40 minutes after Scully had called him. He felt like it was at least six hours ago. Well, we ll examine her, and go through the rape kit. If she wants someone from the Rape Crisis Center, we can have them come down to talk to her. Then she can talk to the police, if that s what she wants. Dr. Wilson looked at him pointedly. She called you after the rape? Her tone was a bit condescending. We re partners, he said, realizing instantly what she was thinking And we re best friends. The police will want to talk to you then, as well, she said, and Mulder nodded. He went back to the exam room and knocked. The nurse inside told him to come in. Scully had changed into a hospital gown, and he could see the two bags that were holding her clothes as evidence. The nurse was taking her blood pressure, marked it down on a sheet, and checked the gash on her cheek. Dr. Wilson will be back in a few minutes to examine you, she said, and left them alone. Mulder stood close to the gurney where Scully was lying, covered with a blanket. Her eyes were still red and puffy. She must have been crying again. God, he thought, please, let her be OK. I m OK, you know, Scully said to him, as if reading his mind. But her voice was trembling. He knew she was lying, and he knew why. She was scared to be vulnerable in front of him, even though she knew that she could be. She was scared because she had been violated, and he could see from her face that she wanted to say more to him, but couldn t. Scully, it s OK, he said to her, taking her hand gently in his. You don t have to put up such a brave front. It was as if he was giving her the okay to talk to him, to open up. At his words, her face twisted a bit and she started to cry. He raped me, she mumbled through her tears. Do you know what he did to me? Mulder could imagine. He wanted her to tell him exactly what had happened, every detail, to let it out, but he was afraid, too. He didn t want to hear what she was going to say. It would draw a picture in his mind, a vivid picture that would haunt him forever. Just like her face would from when she opened the door to him just under an hour ago. Scully started to cry harder. Oh, Mulder, she sobbed, and he reached onto the gurney and held her. She clung to him like a lost child as he stroked her hair and let her cry. He closed his eyes. He hadn t been able to protect her, and it killed him inside. It had been two days since the rape, and Mulder hadn t left Scully alone for a minute. He stayed at her apartment with her. Took a medical leave of absence, just as she did. Slept on her couch. Shopped for groceries. Didn t turn off all the lights in the apartment, especially not at night. He even learned how to cook. Well, if boiling water for pasta counted. He slept on the couch. Scully slept in her room, with the door open, with the lights on. She insisted on leaving every light on in the apartment, and Mulder didn t argue with her. Neither one of them got a lot of sleep. Scully would stay awake crying, and Mulder would try to comfort her to no avail. Since the hug in the emergency room, Scully wouldn t let him touch her. Scully still hadn t told him the details. She had talked to the police, the doctor, the nurse and the rape crisis volunteer. But not to him. He wasn t sure anymore if he even wanted to know. He was scared, selfishly. It might be too hard for both of me, he thought. It was the third night. Mulder was flipping channels on Scully s TV in the living room. The volume was down low, but it was loud enough that it muffled the sounds he thought he was hearing. He muted the TV and listened. Yes, there they were again. The sounds of Scully having another nightmare. Mulder got up from the couch and headed into the bedroom. He found her thrashing on the bed, her eyes closed, her face twisted in a strange contortion of pain and terror. She was making the sounds that Mulder had gotten used to--the wordless sobbing that made his chest ache and his throat tighten. He usually went right to her, sitting beside her, not touching her at all. Waiting for her to come out of it and wake up, drenched in sweat, hoping that his presence beside her would somehow calm her. Praying that it would slow down the breathing, her terrified gasps for air, the blue eyes that darted around the room, looking for the face of an attacker that was not there. This time Mulder stood and watched her from the doorway of the bedroom. She was his partner, no, more than that. She was his best friend in the world, the one who had kept him sane through all of the insanity, the one who had believed in him when no one else did, the one who could look at him and somehow communicate silently with him, when verban was impossible. It did more than hurt him to see her like this. It was ripping him apart inside. She wouldn t let him comfort her, wouldn t let him hold her even though he sensed that she ached for it. Finally he crossed the room to her bed and sat down, took her by both shoulders, gently shaking her. He knew that she didn t want physical contact, but he didn t want her to be stuck, trapped in the nightmare anymore. He knew all about nightmares, how it felt to be in one, to know it was just a dream, and yet be unable to pull yourself back awake. She struggled in his grasp, but didn t wake up. Mulder pulled her into a sitting position. Scully, he said to her quietly, come on, wake up. It s just a dream, Scully. Her struggling turned to frantic flailing. Her hands flew up to protect herself instinctively. Her wordless cries became sentences. Don t touch me! she cried, and opened her eyes. Mulder could hear the pure fear in her voice. Even though she opened her eyes, looked right at him, she didn t stop struggling. She started hitting him, throwing punches in the air, at his face, his chest. Scully, it s me! he cried out, trying to dodge the blows as best he could. Scully! She kept hitting him, crying, until finally, quickly, she had no strength left. Her arms fell, and her gasps became large, hacking sobs. Mulder pulled her to him without thinking. He could feel her heart pounding in her chest, pressed against his. He could feel her tears through his shirt, and could feel that his own face was wet with tears as well. God, he thought, why her? Why did this happen to her? Mulder, she said, pulling loose from him and fixing him with a strong stare, I tried to stop him. I really tried! He nodded. He knew. She wasn t a weakling. Scully had always been able to defend herself. But she was sleeping, awakened from a deep sleep to find a man leaning over her, holding her down....how could she have possibly defended herself? There was no way. No matter what she had done. He knew that. But it was obvious that she felt as if she should have somehow been able to stop him. I tried to make him stop, Mulder. But he had a knife, Mulder. He held it right here. She moved her hand to her throat to show him. Her tears were still falling, but she was able to talk. He pulled my sweats off me. Mulder wanted to stop her. He didn t want to know this part. He didn t think he could stand to hear it without going ballistic. But he knew she had to get it out of her system, to talk about it. The counselor from the rape crisis center said that eventually she would want to talk. Mulder should give her time. Not pressure her. Be patient with her. Be willing to listen to anything she wanted to say. Then what? Mulder tried to keep his voice as even as possible. He didn t want her to hear the tears in his voice, or the anger, or the fear. Scully looked at him. I hadn t...I mean, I haven t...had sex with anyone in a while. It was obviously a painful admission from her, and in a way it was somewhat of a relief to him. He knew that Scully wasn t the type to sleep around. He had hoped that she would wait to meet the right person. He had harbored in the back of his mind a belief that someday, if he ever got his act together, that he would be the right person for her. But those thoughts were long forgotten now. He was hard. I could feel his erection. Her breathing was getting more labored now, and her eyes were darting around the room again. Scully, you re safe, he reminded her. It sounded stupid to him. Damn it, why can t I say the right thing and make her feel safe? He just pushed his way into me. I was dry...it hurt. She sounded like a little girl describing skinned knees after a fall on pavement. She looked at Mulder and her eyes focused on his face. Mulder, he was inside me. I know, Scully. He raped me, she said in somewhat of a monotone. For about 20 minutes. He couldn t come. He was angry at me for that. Like it was my fault. No, Scully, none of this was your fault. None of it, Mulder thought, pain stabbing at him. He hit me. Punched me in the face. Twisted my nipples, hit me again and again...Mulder, why? She was awash in tears again. Why, Mulder? He was crying again as well. I don t know, Dana, he said, and she collapsed against his chest again, sobbing. He held her. It was almost a relief to know that she was letting him hold her, letting him comfort her. Dana, he thought, I called her Dana. When was the last time I called her that? It was his way of reminding her that she was a real person to him, a person with feelings and emotions instead of just his partner. He held her tighter. I m not going to let anyone hurt you, he said against her hair, meaning it. If it meant never letting her out of his sight again, he would never again let anyone touch her. Never. It was partially his fault anyhow. They had been going over some paperwork until late. She had offered to take him out for a late dinner, and he had turned her down. She had seemed anxious, somehow apprehensive about going home alone. Ever since her sister had been killed she occasionally had moments like that. And he usually saw them. Usually took her up on an offer of food at some 24 hour diner. Or followed her home without telling her. He would sit in his parked car across the street, watching her walk from her car to the front door, taking a small satisfaction that she didn t know what he was doing. It was one less thing for her to tease him about. He would watch until she had gotten safely inside her house and turned the lights on, then he would head for home. But not that night. Mulder had a headache that night, and was distracted by thoughts of going home, taking some Tylenol and watching a premier movie on the Playboy channel. So he left her to go home alone, and then he fell asleep, and then she fell asleep, and then some asshole broke into her apartment and raped her and beat her up. And if only he had done something differently that night, paid more attention to her thinly veiled anxiety, damn it, if only he hadn t been so stupid and selfish, maybe, just maybe, this wouldn t have happened to her. Fuck, he thought, if I hadn t been so caught up in that damn movie, my own obsession with sex and lust and all of it, I would have been there. I would have been able to protect her. Mulder had always felt a lingering attraction to Scully. After all, he was a red blooded American male and was not completely blind, although he knew he didn t always notice the opportunities he had to say something to her about it. But there were times, certain times, when he had caught himself staring at her when she didn t know it. He sometimes would make comments to her, comments that were a little more than suggestive. There were times when he got closer to her than he should have. There were other times when he had fantasized about her, what kissing her lips would feel like, what making love to her would feel like. And now he hated himself for ever having had those thoughts. They made him feel sick and dirty. He couldn t help it, though. She was everything he had ever wanted in a woman and more. God, she was beautiful. And brilliant. She always had a quick comeback line for every one of his crazy ideas or comments. She was beautiful. That fiery red hair...God, it made him aroused now, just thinking of all the times he had looked at her and realized with a shock how exquisitely perfect she looked. He cursed himself inwardly for his shitty timing. Scully s tears were slowing. I m so tired, she whispered. Come on, why don t you lie down, Mulder said to her, banishing his thoughts away and helping her to curl back up into her blankets. He stood up to go back to the couch. Mulder, wait, she called to him when he was at the doorway. Mulder? Yeah? Could you...stay in here? Her request was timid. I keep thinking he s here...and I m scared. How many times have I wanted her to ask me that? he thought, and then winced. How could he have those thoughts, now, of all times? He felt dirty again, as if he was raping her mentally. Thank God she doesn t know what I m thinking, he thought. Sure, Scully. Let me go get the blankets. He went back into the living room and carried a blanket and a pillow back into the bedroom, setting up a makeshift bed on the floor. Mulder? Yeah? Do you think...could you sleep up here? With me? He took a deep breath. What should he say? No, Scully, I really don t think that s a good idea because I m feeling kind of horny right now? He hated himself for even thinking it. Whatever you want, he answered instead, and moved his bedding up the other side of her bed. I think....I think I ll turn the light off, she said. I feel safe, knowing you re here. You d throw me out, Scully, if you knew what I was thinking, he thought, and closed his eyes. Why can t I help her? Why can t I just be here for her? She needs me, and not like this. She needs my support. Thanks, Mulder, she said, her voice sleepy. Good night, Dana, he answered. As the morning sun shone brightly in through the window, Mulder opened his eyes. Scully lay next to him, on her side, her body curled so that if she opened her eyes he would be the first thing she would see. Her eyes were closed now, though, and her face peaceful. Mulder breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, she had slept. Maybe having been able to talk to him, at least a little, the previous night, had helped her. Amazing what a good night of sleep can do, he marveled as he carefully extracted himself from the blankets and moved into the living room, trying not to make any noise and awaken Scully. He gazed at her from the doorway of her room for a few moments, then quietly shut the door. He went into the living room and sat down on the couch, running his hand through his hair. He was grateful for the sleep. It helped him put his thoughts back in order. He was trying to find a way to stop thinking of Scully as a woman for the time being. Well, not that he didn t want to think of her as a woman, but just that he didn t want to think about his hidden desires for her. Not now. He knrape was generally a crime that only women dealt with, but he was slowly realizing the effects that it had on the men in the victim s life. He wanted, needed to be there for her, as her partner, as her friend. She had a lot of healing to do, and he wanted to do anything he could to help her. But what was it that had stirred his feelings of desire for her? He knew he couldn t let it rest until he understood. He had known Scully for years now, and in that time, they had grown closer than partners, closer than friends. They were almost like husband and wife, except for the sex. He knew her family, what was left of it. He had always felt close to her mother. He knew that when Margaret Scully invited him over for the holidays, that it was not just because she felt she had to invite her daughter s partner. It was because in a way, she felt as if he were her own son. And he felt the warmth of a mother s love, even though they went for months at a time without seeing each other or speaking. Margaret Scully trusted Mulder with her daughter. It was a big issue, trust. Scully had trusted Mulder more than anyone else in her life, and Mulder knew that. He would never do anything to breach that trust. He trusted her above anyone else as well. He had never dreamed of trusting someone so much, putting so many of his feelings out in the open. And when Scully had been missing, and when she turned up in the hospital that night on life support, Mulder had felt like his whole world was crashing down around him. The desolation he felt filled him. Melissa had known it. It wasn t just because his partner was dying. They had gone beyond that. It was his best friend. When he got the call that she had awoken from her coma, he cried. The tears had been hard, as if he was forcing himself to finally release his feelings for her. Somehow along the line, Mulder had fallen in love with her. It was finally dawning on him now. As he had come to her door to find her beaten, watching her in the emergency room, or watching her in her nightmares, he was realizing that the feelings he felt for her had been romantic for some time. He just hadn t let himself feel them. Well, good timing, he thought angrily. Wait until she gets raped to figure all of this out. He knew that there was no way that he could talk to her about all of this. Besides, when a person is in love, it helps to have the other person feel the same way. Mulder had no idea how Scully felt about him. Well, that wasn t true. He did know. In the way that they knew each other, he could see the love she felt for him when he was in a dangerous situation. When she teased him about his paranoid behavior. When she fixed him with one of her stares. If he had any doubts that she loved him, they were all erased after the incident with Modell. After that, he knew that her feelings for him were more than friendly. More than just partners. He had seen the love in her eyes, heard it in her voice. OK, Mulder, he told himself as he went into the kitchen to start the coffee, you ve got to put this all back away where it was, because now is not the time to be feeling all this. He spooned coffee into the filter and poured the water in. Somehow, he had managed to keep his feelings hidden, even from himself. They had been easy enough to hide, he thought, and now they were just going to have to go back to being hidden. The coffee began to brew, and Mulder went back to the bedroom, opening the door softly, walking over to the bed and sitting down where he had been sleeping to watch Scully. Her auburn hair was fanned out on the pillow. The bruising around her eye was entering its final stages and was greenish purple. The gash on her face had scabbed, and her lip was still red where it had been cracked open. And she s still the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, he thought, absentmindedly brushing a strand of her hair off her forehead. I love you, Dana Katherine Scully, he thought, and the words, even in thought, sounded strange to him. He leaned down to kiss her forehead lightly. Her skin was warm. When he lifted his head, Scully stirred. Her eyes fluttered open. Mulder? Good morning, he replied. I smell coffee, she said, sitting up. Her hair was tousled from a long deep sleep. How are you feeling? Better, if you can believe it, she said, and from the tone of her voice, he did believe it. Mulder, I was thinking... But the jangling of the phone interrupted her. She answered the one that was on her bedside table. Hello? Mulder watched her face, listened to her responses getting colder and more unaffected. Yes, I understand. Yes, I will. She hung up the phone and stared at him. The frozen look that had disappeared when she woke up was back. Scully, what is it? The police caught him. They want me to come down to the station to identify him. Do you want me to come with you? he asked. She nodded. I also have to go to the doctor today. Follow up, she said, and he nodded at her. Maybe we could do that after we go to the police station? Mulder nodded. Whatever you want, Scully. ***** As they entered the police station, Mulder was struck by the fact that for once, they were there and not in an official capacity. The lineup, which they were so used to seeing, would be almost like a new experience for them because they were not there to investigate in any manner. A detective named Darrow met them at the desk and led them into the identification room, explaining the procedure on the way. He was a big burly Irishman and explained everything to Scully carefully, calmly, and in a way that was meant to make her feel safe. Mulder was grateful for that. Now, Miss Scully, I want you to be very sure when you look at these men, Darrow told her. Try and remember exactly what he looked like. I know it was dark, and I know you were scared, but try to remember. Mulder looked at her face and knew from her expression that she remembered perfectly. He sat down next to her behind the two way mirror and took her hand for support as the men were led in on the other side of the mirror. Five men walked in and stood, staring insolently at them. Scully s eyes went methodically from one to the next, carefully, one at a time, not jumping ahead. On the fourth man, her eyes froze. She tensed in her chair. Mulder squeezed her hand gently. Number 4. That s him, she said, her voice breaking slightly. Detective Darrow came around to stand next to her. You re sure? Scully closed her eyes briefly, letting the memories in for only a moment. He was on top of her, looking down at her, his face a mix of anger and revulsion. She could feel him inside her, fucking her, shoving at her, slapping her whenever she cried out or closed her eyes. His eyes were dark and he was about five eleven, she had guessed, and had his dark brown hair parted off to one side. One good thing about being an FBI agent, she had tried to distract herself by thinking, was that she had an uncanny knack for identifying someone. Come on, bitch, come on! His voice echoed in her head. She could feel him slapping against her body, not in a loving way, as sex should be, but in a violent and horrible way. Involuntarily, a shudder passed through Scully s body. She opened her eyes. #4 was six feet by measure on the wall behind him, and his hair was parted to the side, just as she remembered. His eyes. She looked at the man in the lineup, knowing he had no way of knowing it was her behind the mirror. And yet he seemed to be looking right at her. That s him, she said again, her voice a little stronger now. She looked at Mulder. That s him. Mulder stood up and walked to the mirror, looking at #4 with a cold stare. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn t hear what Darrow was saying to Scully. He just wanted to go into the room and smash his face in. Wanted to punch him until he was bloody. Wanted to kick him over and over, wanted to kill him. Scully s presence behind him startled him. I want to leave, she said, touching his arm. Mulder turned around and faced her, all of his murderous thoughts gone without a trace. Let s go, he said, his face calm, giving her no clue what he had been thinking. They walked out of the room and her steps were slower than his. She walked close to him, and eventually once they were outside he put his arm around her as they walked. Without saying anything, Scully leaned her body into his gratefully. She was exhausted. Just get to the doctor, she thought. And then I can go home. Then I can rest. Scully watched absentmindedly as the raindrops beaded on Mulder s windshield as they headed for the doctor s office. Ever since they had left the police station, she had fallen into a strange trance, where she saw and heard nothing except her own thoughts. She was only dimly aware of Mulder s presence in the car next to her. Her mind was still stuck on the image of his face, glaring back at her through the 2-way mirror, leaning over her as he hit her, held her down onto the bed, raped her. It was like she was not a participant anymore, but a witness. She could clearly see everything that was happening to her from a different angle. And this angle was so different that it almost seemed surreal, more frightening, she thought. Without realizing it, she shivered. Are you cold? Mulder asked her, shaking her from her thoughts. She looked at him, realizing from his question that he was there with her in the car, that she was not alone, that she was safe. A little, she said, trying to sound as normal as possible. Who am I kidding, she thought. I haven t sounded normal since this all ound the same. Mulder turned the heat up and they drove the rest of the way in silence. It struck Scully how much time they had spent in silence since her rape. And as she looked over at Mulder, she wondered for the first time what he thought about during those silences. He probably thinks I m so fucked up, she thought. He thinks I m fragile. He s afraid to talk to me, to touch me. She knew a little about his fears, because in a way, they were her own. She was just as scared for him to touch her as he was. At the same time, she knew that he was having some realizations of his feelings for her. She had rolled over the night before and reached out for him in bed, and although it was not something she was used to, she had felt at ease almost immediately. But she wasn t stupid. She had felt him, hard against her leg. And she had felt him shift his body quickly after that so she wouldn t feel it. In a way, it made her sick. How could he think thoughts that were arousing while she was dealing with what she was dealing with? But at the same time she was kind of flattered, that he would be aroused by her, damaged as she was. It was strange, because she had known in her heart that she had been in love with him for some time now. It was something she swore never to admit to herself consciously, and definitely not to him. There was no room for a romance between them in their lives. The X-Files took up too much space, too much time and too much energy for them to have anything other than the comfortable relationship, the friendship that they already had. It didn t mean she didn t think about it sometimes. But she trusted Mulder so much as a friend that she couldn t stand to think of him as anything else, especially not now, not after the rape. Although, she thought idly, it would be so nice, to have him hold me like that all the time. She knew it was just because of the trauma she was experiencing. She knew, had known for a long time, that she was in love with him. And she was grateful, grateful for his love, even if he couldn t express it to her the way it was that he really felt. This was enough for her for now. She looked at him as he drove. She had no idea what he was thinking. His face was completely unreadable. She had no way of knowing the thoughts of murderous revenge that was coursing through him so strongly that his grip on the steering wheel had become tighter, his jaw had been set and his eyes locked on the road. **** Once inside the examining room, Scully was grateful for the cotton gown instead of those flimsy paper things. She changed quickly and sat on the table, looking around the small room. Even before all this had happened, she had never liked going to the doctor. Probably because she always wanted to second guess the medical opinion that was given to her. Dr. Wilson came into the room. Hi, Dana, she greeted her patient warmly. Scully nodded her hellos. The doctor was carrying her medical file, and it was almost 2 inches thick. Stuffed with police documents, no doubt, medical exam forms, all things that could be used later in court. Scully suddenly recalled all the things they told her about at the emergency room a few days before, and the fear and anxiety that she had temporarily put aside was back in an instant. Sexually transmitted diseases, pregnancy....she felt goosebumps rise on her skin. How are you feeling? Scully swallowed hard, her voice feeling choked. She had stuffed those thoughts away because they were too terrifying, and now they were back, threatening to paralyze her. I m OK. The doctor did a quick examination of her bruises and lacerations. You seem to be healing up well physically. How are you doing emotionally? Scully looked at her, almost surprised that she would ask such a question. How do you think I m doing? she wanted to ask. Terrible, she said instead. Nightmares, panic attacks...I can t stop remembering. The police called me today and asked for your records to be sent over because they arrested a suspect. Scully nodded. It s standard for them to get medical tests done on him as well. We re going to need semen samples, blood typing...we re going to also test him for the same sexually transmitted diseases we tested you for. The doctor flipped through Scully s chart. And I need to ask you again if you would like to take the morning after pill. I know you refused it before, but it s not too late to take it now. Are you going to take a pregnancy test now? Scully asked. Yes, if you want me to. Dr. Wilson answered. Scully nodded mutely, her fears starting to get the better of her. A million things were racing through her mind at top speed. All she could imagine was that not only was her reputation ruined, but now she might be pregnant with that bastard s baby. And be carrying the HIV virus, and God knows what else. Her head was starting to swim, and she looked down at the floor, putting her hands over her eyes. *** Mulder looked up from his magazine to hear the nurse calling him. Mr. Mulder? she asked. He nodded. Miss Scully would like you to come in... could you please come with me? Mulder dropped the magazine and followed her quickly. In the exam room, Scully was sitting on the table, wearing a thin white cotton gown. Her upper arms were covered with bruises, faded to ugly purple and green marks from where she must have been held down. He hadn t seen those. She had worn long sleeves ever since she had come home. Now he knew why. Her head was in her hands, and she was crying. Mulder hurried to her side and put an arm around her protectively. What s going on? he asked in a low voice to Dr. Wilson, who was still standing there, looking helpless. The doctor shrugged her shoulders. Scully, what s wrong? he asked her, trying to keep his voice soothing. Scully looked up at him, her face awash with tears. Mulder, I could be pregnant! she cried. Mulder s shoulders fell. Dana, I will run a pregnancy test. I think it s also wise for you to take the morning after pill, like I said before, since you didn t take it in the emergency room, the doctor said. Why didn t you take the pill in the ER? Mulder asked her, but Scully shook her head. I want to go, she sobbed softly, I want to go home. He helped her stand. Dana, please, stay until we can draw some blood, Dr. Wilson begged her. Scully sniffled and nodded. Fine, then do it, she said, and then I m leaving. The nurse came to her and wrapped a tourniquet around her upper arm. Mulder saw Scully wince at the pain, and turned his head away when the needle went in. We ll run this for pregnancy and HIV, the doctor explained. She scribbled something on a pad, then ripped off the top three sheets and handed them to Scully. This is for AZT. It s simply a preventative measure. We give it hospital employees when they ve been stuck by a needle. The other one is for the morning after pill. And this one, she said, indicating the final sheet of paper, is for a sedative. Scully took the prescriptions silently. I know you think I don t care, Dana, the doctor said, but I do. I can t know exactly what you re going through, but I know that you re having a rough time. You ve had a really long day. Try to go home and get some rest. The doctor and the nurse left the room, leaving Mulder and Scully alone. She had stopped crying by now. I just want to go home, she said again, not looking up at him. I ll wait outside while you get dressed, he said, and touched her shoulder gently. She flinched. Shit, he thought, we re not back to this, are we? But he tried to smile at her anyhow, in case she looked up, which she didn t. He left the room and stood in the hall. Leaning his back up against the wall, he closed his eyes. Scully hadn t told her family what had happened. She had called her mother, but told her that she was sick and wasn t up for company. She had told Skinner that she had the flu and was dehydrated. Sooner or later, she would have to go back to work. And she would have to face her family. And she would have to face her feelings. Somehow, she had to pull together to do all of that if she wanted to keep this a secret from everyone. But why? he wondered. He knew her mother would be nothing but supportive. He knew that Skinner would not tell anyone, that the other Bureau agents would not know anything unless she wanted them to. She was being stubborn, and he hated it. He was starting to feel like he wasn t doing enough for her, and in a way, he wanted someone to help him carry the burden of what had happened to her. It didn t lessen the amount that he cared about her. Scully came out a few minutes later. They went to the car. It was now raining heavily, but Mulder deliberately walked slowly so that Scully could keep up with him. They stopped at a pharmacy and Mulder turned off the car. Why don t you let me run in and fill those for you, he said to her. I can do it myself, she said, and got out of the car without saying anything else. He watched her walk into the pharmacy and then punched the steering wheel angrily. Damn it, he said aloud. What happened to make her put up her guard again? A few minutes later she returned and got into the car, a small paper bag in her hand. Mulder looked at her but didn t start the car. Did you get them all filled? he asked. Let s go, Mulder, she said, I m freezing. Scully, did you fill all three prescriptions? She looked at him. Why? Because I want to know, he said. No, she replied, looking out the window. Scully, he said to her, but she cut him off. The pharmacist would have stared at me, she said, still not looking at him. He would have thought I have AIDS. He doesn t think anything, Mulder answered. If I had filled all of them, he would have known for sure that I had been raped. Who cares what he thinks? Mulder raised his voice, and Scully whipped around in her seat to look at him, her eyes blazing. I care, Mulder, she shouted at him. I care! Why won t you take the morning after pill? he asked her angrily. Why won t you take a sedative? I don t need a sedative! she yelled back. He didn t think he had ever seen her so angry. What about the morning after pill? Why won t you take it, Scully? Because, Mulder, I just won t. Tell me why, he pushed her. I don t need it. I m on birth control, she snapped at him, and looked down at her lap. Why? he asked. I thought you weren t sleeping with anyone-- He stopped himself. OK, Mulder, are you happy now? she asked, her voice low and hurt. I was taking birth control because I was thinking that just in case...and then I stopped taking it. We were on assignments. I forgot a bunch of days. Mulder felt like kicking himself. So there s a chance that you could be pregnant. Why don t you want to take the morning after pill? he asked again, this time with a calm voice. I don t know, she answered, her voice unsteady. I know I couldn t face being pregnant, but I don t know why I don t want to take it. He put his hand on her leg, then drew it away when she looked up at him. It frustrated him. He felt like there was only so much concern he could show with his words. He wanted to be able to touch her, and he wanted to tell her why. I m sorry, he said, I was just trying to show you, you know, tell you.... He stopped, unsure of his words, that I care about you. I was trying to comfort you. I know, she said, looking up at him, her eyes filled with tears. I just don t know what I m doing, Mulder. I don t know anything right now. His anger for her rapist came to the surface again when he saw her tears. It s his fault, he thought. He pushed down the white hot feeling in his throat and put one hand up to gently stroke her face. I m sorry I yelled at you, he whispered. I m so sorry, Dana. Back at Scully s apartment, Mulder went to the bathroom and shut the door behind him. He looked in the mirror. He felt like he had aged a year in the last few days. There was so much to think about, so much to absorb. Scully s rapist was in jail. She was trying to deal with the aftermath. He was in love with her. God, damn, he thought, why now? Why not a year ago? Why did these feelings have to surface now? He now knew that she was taking birth control because she was taking no chances, in case they had gotten involved. How long has she been taking them? he thought. He still couldn t understand her refusal to take the morning after pill. He knew that birth control pills were only 97% effective, probably less in her case, since she had forgotten to take some. But why not take the morning after pill and eradicate all chances of becoming pregnant? He supposed that it had something to do with her Catholic upbringing. Some things, he thought, were so deeply implanted into your head that they stay there forever. And that would explain why she didn t want to take it. But then why the birth control? OK, he told himself, don t be so self-centered. From what she said, she could have been taking the birth control pills just in case she slept with someone else. That didn t mean just him. He opened the medicine cabinet without thinking and looked inside. He saw the case of birth control pills. A few were missing. There were the standard medicine cabinet items--cotton balls, Tylenol, a thermometer. He glanced, interested, at the apricot facial mask. He wondered if that was the source of the sweet smell of her skin. He closed the medicine cabinet and looked down at the counter. Scully s toothbrush, and his own. Toothpaste. A bar of soap. A bottle of perfume. He picked that up and smelled it. Closing his eyes, he could smell her, wearing the perfume. The bottle was almost empty. He quickly memorized the name of it, reminding himself to buy her another bottle. He looked in the mirror again, rubbed his eyes. In the bedroom, Scully had changed her clothes into something more comfortable. She sat down on the edge of her bed and pulled her feet up under her. In her apartment, around her, were all the things that were hers. All of these things had been things she had worked for her whole life. Nothing had been given to her. She had always had to work for everything she had wanted. And it had all been worth it. She knew that once she got better, once she could figure out how to live again, that she would have to deal with the issue of Mulder. She knew that he now knew things she had never intended for him to find out. She was furious with herself that she told him about the birth control pills. It made her look like she was just sitting around, waiting for him to realize that he loved her, waiting for him to take her to be and then she would be already prepared. She wanted to make sure that he never would find out that she had been taking the pills for almost a year. She was even more furious with herself now for having forgotten to take pill after pill. It wasn t like her to forget such things. Scully knew now that Mulder loved her. He really did love her. But what on earth reason would he have for loving me now? she thought. Her mind was racing. I was raped. I could have a disease, I could have AIDS, I could be pregnant. My reputation at the Bureau will be destroyed. Everyone will know that I couldn t defend myself. What kind of FBI agent am I if I can t even defend myself? Damn it, I never wanted him to feel like he had to protect me. The rape had changed everything. Her job, her personal life, her health. It was all going down the tubes. All that hard work for nothing. She closed her eyes. Here, on this very bed, she thought, that bastard raped me. She could remember the entire rape in detail. From the moment she woke up to sense someone standing over her to when he heard sirens outside (which had turned out to be an ambulance) and got scared and left. As soon as she had realized there was someone there, she had scrambled to get her gun from the bedside table, but he was faster than her and climbed on top of her, straddling her body with his legs, pinning her arms down. Hit her in the face, hard enough to stun her but not hard enough to knock her unconscious. Held the knife to her throat, whispering threats of using it if she didn t stay quiet. She realized that no matter what she was praying, that he was going to rape her, and that there was nothing she could do about it. He pulled at her sweats, yanked viciously the waistband of them. She felt the elastic burning her skin, and she knew then that there was going to be no stopping him. She could see it in his eyes. Feel it in the hardness of his erection pressing into her groin. She sat up, picking her head up. The panic was back. Her breathing, which had been rapid, was coming out in gasps. Her heart was racing. Her hands were clammy and she felt like she was going to vomit. She tried to get up, but her legs were trembling so badly that she knew she would faint if she tried. Mulder! she called out as best as she could. He came running into the room, having heard her terrified cry from the bathroom. He went to her side immediately. It s OK, Scully, he said soothingly. I m right here. Nothing s going to happen to you. You re safe. The phone rang. Scully whimpered. Please, Mulder, can you answer it? He nodded and reached for the cordless. Hello? Yes, can I take a message for her? Scully watched his face, trying to calm herself. What? You ve got to be kidding. Mulder s tone was incredulous. No, I ll call you back. Thanks. He hung up the phone. What? Scully asked him, terrified of what his answer would be. He posted bail, Mulder told her, trying to remain calm himself. What? she asked, and her eyes got big. He s out of jail? Mulder he could come over here and... He s not going to get near you, Mulder said firmly, wanting her to believe him. He won t get into this house. Oh, God, Mulder...he could come back! No, Scully, he won t, he assured her. I m not letting you out of my sight for one second, Mulder thought. He ll be dead before he touches you again. Scully closed her eyes. This won t end, will it? she asked, but it was more of a statement than a question. Mulder helped her lie down on the bed and he sat down next to her, stroking her hair and her forehead. Finally, after almost an hour, she was asleep. He got up, went into the living room to check the locks on the front door. He checked all the windows. He checked his gun, made sure that the clip was fully loaded. He went back into the bedroom and sat down on the other side of the bed, next to Scully, and watched her. Scully awoke a few times. She tossed and turned in her sleep. The nightmares were back, he knew, and would likely stay this time. He wanted to hold her, but couldn t bring himself to take her in his arms. He watched her, knew that she was going through incredible pain, and that he was not able to help her. As he watched her, the pain in him surfaced, and he understood why he felt it. He knew that because he loved her, and that she had been hurt, that it hurt him as well. Mulder felt his throat getting tight, and his chest ached from unshed tears. He cleared his throat, and Scully stirred, waking up, opening her eyes to look at him. She saw him sitting there, on the bed beside her, his face filled with sadness. She realized suddenly how lucky she was to have him in her life. She knew that she wanted him in her life. Without him, she wasn t complete. Mulder, she whispered, thank you for being here. His eyes filled with tears, and he didn t try to stop them from falling. Scully sat up and he hugged her tightly to him, crying softly. I m sorry I wasn t here that night, he managed to get out, but she quieted him. You can t watch over me every second, she answered. I m not mad at you. He pulled from their embrace to look her in the eye. I feel like I let you down, he confessed. She shook her head, her eyes filled with disbelief. Why? she asked. Because I couldn t protect you. Because it happened, and I didn t protect you. Mulder, she said, feeling her own tears coming back, you couldn t. It s not your fault, for God s sake. I know, he said, his tears slowing. But it doesn t stop me from thinking that I should have been here. If I had been here... She shook her head. No, it s OK. It happened. Now I deal with it, that s all. No, Scully, he answered her firmly. We deal with it. I m here for you. Whatever you need. She squeezed her eyes shut, keeping the tears at bay. When she opened them again, she smiled at him weakly. I love you so much, she blurted out. She immediately clapped a hand over her mouth, stunned that she had said what she said. Oh, God, she cried out, her words muffled by her hand. She couldn t look at him. He took her hands, one at a time, gently, in his. Dana, I know, he said. He was silent for a long time. She finally looked up at him. Minutes had passed. We re going to get through this, she said tentatively, and he nodded. And you re going to be fine, he said. You always are. Three weeks had passed. Scully was back to work, her bruises gone. On the surface, she was almost back to her old self. Underneath, she was struggling to deal with her demons. At work, Mulder would watch her, careful to make sure that she didn t know it. He had stopped sleeping at her apartment two weeks before. Before his last night there, he had dinner with her. It was the same day that the locksmith had come by. They installed two new locks on the front door and installed locks on all the windows, at Scully s insistence. He had left that night with her promise that she would call if she needed him, and that if she called, he would come right over, no questions asked. Mulder knew she was putting on a front at work. He could see the dark circles under her eyes and knew that she still wasn t sleeping enough. A few days after she had come back, Skinner had called her into a closed door meeting. Somehow he had gotten copies of the medical reports and arrest reports and found out what had happened. Over lunch that day, Scully met Mulder back in their office after being with Skinnerausted, but told Mulder that it had not been bad. He was sympathetic without taking pity on me, she explained. No one else in the Bureau knew what had happened to her. Skinner had promised her that no word of it would come from him, and Scully trusted him. She finally told her mother. Scully told Mulder that Margaret Scully had dissolved in tears. There wasn t much more the woman could bear. To lose her husband and her daughter, and also to have thought that Scully was dead, and now this. But Scully reported that she was supportive, as she had expected her to be. Mulder was impressed that Scully was able to talk more freely about the attack. She referred to it as, what happened to me. She still wasn t able to say the word rape, but Mulder knew it would come in time. She had so much to be glad about, she told him one day over lunch. Her pregnancy test had come back negative, as had the preliminary HIV testing. She would still be tested every six months for the next five years, but her immediate fears had been laid to rest. Some of that was helping her to deal with what had happened to her. What was helping the most, she thought, was the support group she had joined and went to twice a week. One afternoon, Mulder and Scully were working on some paperwork in the office when the phone rang. Scully picked it up without taking her eyes off her work. Scully, she said, and then her head came up. Yes, of course. Mulder looked up as well. Scully was listening intently. At one point, her eyes grew sad, and then she glanced at Mulder. Then she looked away. What hospital? she asked, and listened, writing something down. Yes, I would, she said into the phone. Tomorrow would be fine. I ll see you then. She hung up the phone. What s wrong? he asked. She was still staring out into the dark corner of the office and for a minute, didn t answer him. Her eyes were distant and unfocused. They caught him, she finally said. Mulder breathed deeply. Thank God, he thought. How? He raped another woman, Scully answered, turning to look directly at him. Someone chased after him and held him until the police got there. Mulder swallowed. Bastard, he thought. When did this happen? Last night, Scully answered. The woman was pregnant. Her first child. She miscarried early this morning. Jesus, Mulder breathed. They want me to come down and give a deposition, so it can be used for the hearing, she said, getting up and getting her coat. Where are you going now? he asked. I just need some air, she replied. Mulder got up and hurried over to her before she got out the door. He took her arm. Scully-- She turned around to look at him. I m OK, she assured him. I really am. He nodded at her. You sure? Do you want me to go with you? She pondered this for a moment, and then nodded back. No, really, I m fine. I just need to get out for a while. Mulder hugged her. It was the first time in weeks that he had exchanged any physical contact with her. Scully relaxed into his arms easily, closing her eyes. He stroked her hair gently, thinking about everything she had gone through since the rape. He was so amazed by her strength. It was one of the things he loved about her. And maybe, someday, there would be a chance for them. It was fine, though. He knew that he could wait. He would wait for her for as long as she needed. He released her after kissing the top of her head softly. Drive carefully, Dana, he said to her and smiled. She smiled back. Thank you for everything, she said, her voice a little unsteady. I don t know if I thanked you before. You did. Well, thanks again. Thank you. Her voice was definitely wavering on the brink of tears now. But she was controlling it well. Anytime, Scully. She hugged him again impulsively, quickly. She was up on tiptoe, whispering in his ear. Thank you for not thinking I was fragile. I love you, Fox. And then she let him go, and she left the office without letting him say another word. ****** Washington Memorial Hospital Room 419 Scully stood outside the door of the room for a good five minutes. She didn t know if she had the right to be here, to even do what she was thinking of doing. She hadn t intended to come here when she had left the FBI building, but after 20 minutes of driving around aimlessly, she had finally driven to the hospital, knowing that it must have been where she wanted to go in the first place. Finally she knocked softly on the door and entered the room. The woman lying on the bed was about Scully s age, with dark blond hair. Her name was Allison Westfall. She had an IV in one arm and a blood transfusion in the other. Scully had looked at her chart in the hall and noted that her hemoglobin was very low, likely from all the blood she had lost from the miscarriage. The woman s skin was chalky white, except for the dark bruises on her face and arms. Her eyes were open, and she stared at Scully. Who are you? she asked, her voice breaking. It was obvious she had been crying. My name is Dana Scully. I just wanted to come talk to you, she started out. God, what do I say next? Are you a doctor? Allison asked. Yes, Scully replied, but that s not why I m here. I m here because....the same man who raped you last night raped me a month ago. He was out on bail when he attacked you last night. Allison turned her head towards the window. Scully looked at the floor, wishing for a moment that it would swallow her whole. Maybe she shouldn t have come. I m sorry. I shouldn t have bothered you, she apologized, and turned to leave. No, wait, Allison said, turning her head back to Scully. She was crying, tears falling down her cheeks, but no sounds coming from her lips. Her face was still. Scully walked closer to her bedside and sat down in the chair that was pulled close to the bed. You know about my baby? she asked. Scully nodded. My husband...he was away on business. He s on his way back. The police called him. Scully nodded. In some ways, she could not understand what Allison was feeling. Married, having somewhat of a normal domestic life. She had been pregnant, and now the baby that had been growing in her was gone. She couldn t imagine the pain. Then she stopped herself and reminded herself why she had come in the first place. She did understand. I know...I know what you re going through, Scully stammered, and if I can help, in any way, please... she trailed off. Allison s tears had started to flow again, and Scully found herself crying silently as well. Allison reached her hand over the edge of the bed. Dana Scully took her hand and squeezed it. In that simple act, two women who had nothing and everything in common, turned to each other for support. In that support, they felt love and compassion and understanding: the starting blocks of healing. Fragile - The Sequel by Leyla Harrison Disclaimer: I don t even know how to rate this one. I strongly suggest that you read the original, edited Fragile (which I am reposting before this) for this one to make any sense to you. There are memories of a violent rape in this story, so if that bothers you, stop reading now. Also, there is some mild Mulder/Scully romance, so if that bothers you, you should also stop reading. However: this is NOT a romance story. If you get to the scene when Mulder and Scully are about to make love and are disappointed by the fact that I don t actually write another scene where you get to see them make love, THIS STORY IS NOT FOR YOU. This story is for all the people who for some reason in their lives need it. Whether they need it for their own growth, for inspiration, for courage, or for strength, these people will read this story and understand. I m not trying to be mean or angry, I am just forewarning you. If you want romace stories (you know, mushy love, some sex, no plot) read my other stories. That s not the point of this one, though. Thank you to everyone who responded when I originally wrote and posted Fragile back in January. I still am getting responses to it. Without that support, I never would have finished Fragile or had the nerve to write this sequel to it. To say that I really appreciated the support is an understatement. Special thanks go to Johnine (Little Jo)...she knows why. :) ***** Dana Scully came into the office to find her partner, Fox Mulder, mulling over a file. Anything interesting? she asked him. She was disappointed in seeing him so engrossed. She had been toying with thoughts of coming into the office and surprising him with a kiss lately, but hadn t yet gotten up the nerve to do it. Mulder sat up in his chair and flipped the file closed upon seeing his partner. He slipped it under some other papers on his already cluttered desk. Hey, Scully, he said nervously. Mulder, she asked, what s in that file? He looked down. I didn t think you d want to see it, he responded. She thought he was pulling some kind of prank. Why not? she asked innocently, walking over to his desk. Scully, he said, warning in his tone, I really didn t think... She slipped a quick hand under the mass of papers and pulled the file. Let s see now, she said playfully, opening the file. Her face went white when she did, and all traces of humor left her expression. Mulder stood up. Scully, I m sorry. She looked at him. When did he get out? Why didn t anyone tell me? Her voice was tremulous. Let s get out of here for a while, and we can talk about it, he suggested, taking her arm and leading her out of the office. **** His name was Richard Molinaro. His rap sheet had consisted of petty crimes. Breaking and entering. Shoplifting. Until three years ago. Then he had been arrested and charged with sexual assault, twice in one one month. His victims were Dana Scully and Allison Westfall. There had been no criminal trial. He had confessed, and since he was on parole at the time of the rapes, the judge at his hearing had sentenced him to seven years for each charge. He had been returned to a jail in Virginia. And now, somehow, inexplicably, he had been paroled once again. On good behavior. Mulder led Scully out of the FBI building and quickly got her across town to the Lincoln Memorial, where they sat on the steps, looking into the reflecting pool. Skinner found out about it first, Mulder told her. He had the file sent directly down to me to show you. She was not looking well, Mulder thought. He had been amazed by her resilience over the last two years. She had someone managed to emotionally pull herself back up from the trauma she had dealt with. Molinaro s other victim, Allison Westfall, had not been so lucky. She had spent most of the past two years in and out of psychiatric hospitals. Scully had been to visit her numerous times over the two years. I can t believe that they would parole him without calling me. I can t believe they wouldn t want me to give a statement, Scully said. Mulder nodded. It seems crazy. Scully stood up, her face determined. I m going to call the parole board. That sounds like a good idea, Mulder said, standing up as well. Scully, you know I can t tell you how prud I am of you. She looked at him. In the past two years, they had carried on what could easily be defined as the most chaste relationship in the history of mankind. Their dates consisted of dinner and a movie, goodnight hugs and occasionally, a whispered I love you . Mulder had spent every holiday with Scully at her mother s house. Margaret Scully had twice spied them holding hands. Not once had they kissed. Scully went to him and hugged him tightly. Mulder, she said softly into his ear, I never could have made it without you. No, he replied, still holding her, you re pretty strong. You Scully women are. You bounced back pretty much on your own. Scully released him and looked up at him. Mulder... she said. She was suddenly struck by the fact that although they never discussed it, they were a couple. He had never, to her knowledge, dated anyone else in the last two years. He had never pressured her into anything since her rape. He had been wonderful. And she loved him so much. Scully went back up on tiptoe and leaned her head close to his. He bent down, realizing that she was going to kiss him for the first time with no warning at all. Right here, he thought, at the Lincoln Momument. In front of the reflecting pool. He closed his eyes. Scully s lips touched his lightly at first, hesitantly. He sought her lips gently, feeling the warmth of them against his own. He wrapped his arms around her waist, carefully, slowly pulling her to him. She responded by wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing him with less hesitancy, with more passion. And he returned the kiss. After all the years they had both spent dreaming, fantasizing about this moment, it was now upon them. The fact that they were among hundreds of people was lost on both Mulder and Scully. Everything else in the background faded away as they kissed, exploring each others lips and mouths. Mulder could hear Scully sigh softly against him, and he reached his arms up, his hands catching her face, holding her face, moving down to her neck, wanting to caress her there, feeling the smooth skin of her neck-- Scully reacted violently, tearing her lips from his and shoving him away as if he were on fire. Don't touch me like that! she cried, and Mulder backed away even further, frightened. Scully! Mulder was shocked by her reaction. Scully-- She was standing about ten feet from him. Her face was contorted with pain and rage, and fear. God, he thought, please, after all this time, don t let her be scared of me. She was trembling visibly and was on the verge of tears. Scully-- Mulder tried again. No! she cried, and turned from him, running across the momument towards the steps. Mulder took off after her. They were attracting more than a few stares from curious onlookers. Dana! he called after her, easily catching up to her and taking her arm. Let go of me! she screamed, her voice genuinely terrified. She turned to face him and he could see that he eyes were clouded, not even actually looking at him. She twisted her arm free from his grasp and an older man approached them. Listen, you d better leave her alone, the good samaritan warned Mulder. No, it s OK, Mulder tried to explain, but the man wasn t interested. It looked bad for him. She s sick... Mulder didn t know how to continue. I m not going to hurt her. Are you OK, miss? the man said, turning to Scully and placing a hand on her shoulder. Leave me alone! she screamed again, and turned and ran. The man was startled. He turned to Mulder, realizing that he had been telling the truth. She seems pretty upset. You d better catch up with her before hse gets herself hurt. Mulder nodded and took off after Scully again. He caught up with her the the edge of the reflecting pool. Dana, he called, please! She sank down to her knees and he was able to catch her as she fell. She was sobbing uncontrollably, but looked up at him. Mulder, she managed to get out between tears, please, help me. Scully opened the door to Skinner s office. He looked up and nodded at her. Please, Agent Scully, come in. Scully crossed the room and sat down in the chair in front of the large desk. Skinner had papers all over it, as usual. Scully s mind was racing. Why had he called her here? Did he know about what had happened at the Memorial the day before? Scully felt the old feelings of shame and guilt creeping into her mind. She felt like a fool for how she had acted with Mulder. She was in love with him, and kissing him had been her move, not his. And then she had flipped out, like some wacko. If Skinner questioned her, what was she going to say? She certainly couldn t tell him about her feelings for Mulder. It was against Bureau policy. Before we begin, Agent Scully, I d like to let you know that this conversation is off the record. Scully nodded her head. I understand. How are you doing? he asked without hesitation. Scully swallowed hard, trying to contemplate her answer. I m fine, sir, she finally said. Agent Scully, Skinner said, his voice low, it s perfectly understandable that you would be under considerable stress right now. Any person in your situation would be. If only you knew, Scully thought, but simply nodded her head again. Agent Scully, if you would like some time off, that can be easily arranged. Scully recalled what her therapist had said to her that morning about taking things slower, perhaps even taking some time off from work. Scully had been opposed to the idea. She shook her head again now to Skinner. With all due respect, sir, I appreciate the offer. But I ve got everything under control, and I would like to continue working. She paused, looking as his dark eyes watching her response carefully. I m fine. I really am. She was trying to sound convincing. Skinner knew that Dana Scully was strong. Being her next in command for the past 4 and a half years had taught him that. But he also knew that she was facing something that no one should have to face. He knew she was lying to him. He felt terrible not being able to offer her support personally, but he had a feeling that Mulder was helping her along those lines. Well, Agent Scully, he finally said after a long silence, if you change your mind, the offer still stands. Just let me know. Thank you, sir. That s all, Scully, he said, and she stood and left the office, closing the door behind her. ****** Scully put the key in the top lock of her door and turned it, hearing the deadbolt unlock. She turned the doorknob and pushed the door open. A light was on the living room. She could see a light on the in the kitchen, and she heard water running. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up on end, and she felt her heart rate quicken. Oh, God, he s in my apartment, she thought. She let her purse strap slide off her shoulder and let the purse softly fall to the floor as she drew her gun from her waist. Scully slowly advanced into the apartment, towards the kitchen. She could see Molinaro s face in front of her, as she had opened her eyes that night to find him over her bed. This time, I m going to surprise him, she thought, but her actions were not as strong as her desires. The gun trembled in her hand. The running water stopped, and she could hear someone walking across the kitchen. Come on, she prodded herself. Just walk in there. She tightened her grip on the gun and took a deep breath before going around the corner. Freeze! she screamed, tightening her finger on the trigger, ready to shoot. In front of her, Mulder spun around and dropped the glass mixing bowl he was holding. It shattered on the floor at his feet. Scully, it s me! he yelled. Jesus! she swore, lowering her gun, trying to get her breathing to return to normal. Her heart was pounding so hard that she could feel it in every vein in her body. So close, she thought, closing her eyes for a brief moment. I almost shot him. She opened her eyes and looked Mulder over. What the hell are you doing here? I was trying to make you dinner, Mulder answered, looking down at the glass shards at his feet. Surprise. Scully felt like kicking herself. In a quick glance around the kitchen, she could see the pot of pasta beginning to boil on the stove and the simmering pot of sauce on the other burner. In her fear, she hadn t even noticed the tempting aroma the herbs and spices as she did now. The surprise meal, the broken glass, and the knowledge that she had almost shot Mulder was overwhelming her. Scully could feel hot tears just behind her eyes, and she mentally pushed them back. Mulder sensed it somehow, and he came to her and hugged her. With his arms around her, he silently slipped the gun from her hand. Why don t you get changed, he suggested, releasing her, and I ll finish making dinner. Scully looked helplessly at the broken glass on the floor. I ll get it, don t worry. Mulder gave her a gentle push in the direction of the bedroom. He was worried about her, although after her panic attack her visit to her old therapist had seemed to make her more at ease. Until, he thought, as he watched her head for her bedroom, she had almost shot him just a few minutes before. ****** Scully emerged from the bedroom fifteen minutes later, feeling better. She had changed into jeans and a loose cabled sweater and had cried silently in the bathroom for a few minutes, then washed her face, feeling the comfort of the warm water on her skin. The powerful smell of the spaghetti sauce drew her towards her table. Mulder had set the table, lit candles, and turned off all of the unnecessary lights. Soft classical music was playing. As if by magic, as Scully stood there gaping, Mulder appeared in the doorway with dinner. He stopped when he saw her. My God, he thought, she looks beautiful. The thought of kissing her, before her panic attack the day before, flooded his senses. Scully, could you grab the wine from the kitchen? he asked, trying to sounds casual. Scully nodded and returned a moment later, pouring the wine into two glasses as Mulder spooned the steaming spaghetti onto their plates. Scully had to admit that she felt better than she had since learning of Molinaro s release. Being here with Mulder, in a setting that she had only dreamed of before, was almost unbelievable. Since when did you know how to cook? she asked him suspiciously. He smiled back at her. I know how to cook one thing, he admitted. My mom taught me how to make her spaghetti sauce. He lifted his glass of wine to toast hers. What are we toasting to? she asked. Our first at home date, he answered, smiling, and was relieved when she smiled back, clinking their glasses together and watching her sip thoughtfully from her wine. Dinner smells good, she informed him. It tastes as good as it smells, he said confidently. Across the table, Scully was trying to be calm. Her hands were shaking and she wasn t sure if Mulder had seen the glass shaking as they had toasted to their date. She was so nervous it was unbelievable. Like I m on the first date of my life, she thought. This is crazy. It s Mulder. We ve been on a hundred dates . But never like this, his eyes seemed to be telling her from across the table. Never alone. The thought of it passed both nervous and excited shivers down her back. She had no idea what the night would hold for them. Dinner was incredible, Scully said as she helped Mulder put the last dishes away. Thank you, he said, smiling at her, turning off the water, for not expecting the worst. She smiled back, putting the dish towel away. Another glass of wine? she asked. Scully didn t know what to do, to say to him. Dinner, candles, soft music, wine...all of it was going to her head. She wanted to kiss him again, to let him lead her to the bedroom, do to her what she had wanted him to do since she had first fallen in love with him all those years ago... Mulder nodded. He was thinking the same things. He stepped towards her, carefully, not wanting to frighten her. It made her heart quicken, but not from fear. From excitement. He touched her face with one hand, feeling the softness of it. He watched her face for any sign that she wanted him to stop, using their ago old method of communication with their eyes. Silent communication. Scully let him advance towards her more, her back up against the sink. He kissed her this time, gently, carefully, letting his lips move over hers und him. Please, Scully, he thought, please don t be scared. I won t hurt you. Mulder s emotions conflicted within him wildly. He was incredibly aroused from the gentle touch of her hands moving down him back, and terrified that she was going to panic again. He reluctantly broke from their kiss and studied her face. Why did you stop? she asked, a little breathless, her face slightly flushed. Because I want to make sure that you want to do this. She smiled tenderly at him. Mulder, I ve wanted to do this for longer than you can imagine. I don t know about that, he replied, smiling back. I want you to stay here tonight, Scully told him. Dana, are you sure? he asked. The use of her first name was not lost on her. Mulder, I want you to stay. I know you want to stay. Mulder nodded. Good. Then it s settled. You re staying. Without reservation, Scully took his hand and led him into the bedroom. Mulder looked around the room, recalling the last time he had been in it. He pushed those darker memories aside. Tonight, they were going to create new ones. He kissed her again, feeling her respond to him. Scully was tugging at his shirt, trying to pull it from the waist of his jeans, succeeding and slipping her cool hands onto his skin. He gasped at her touch. Scully... Mulder looked at her, using the silent words again. I want to take your shirt off, he thought, and she nodded her approval. Mulder pulled the soft material up and over her head. She was wearing no bra underneath, and he breathed deeply at the sight of her breasts. He ran his hand over each one, carefully, avoiding her nipples. Mulder, please. Not yet, Scully, not yet. Her drew her onto the bed, unbuttoning her jeans and tugging them down off her hips, pulling her underwear with them. She helped him by kicking them off the rest of the way, leaving her nude. Mulder stripped off his shirt and jeans and crawled back under the covers with her, pressing the length of his body against hers, closing his eyes, kissing her neck, her chin, her mouth, her eyelids. She sighed and moved against him. Mulder ran his hands over her body, her back, her hips, her waist, her breasts, her legs. She was incredibly sensitive to his touch. He moved his hand over her breasts again, this time brushing her nipples with the tips of his fingers. Scully felt a wave of arousal flow thorough her body, and a spark of fear. She opened her eyes. It s Mulder, she told herself, pushing it away, and closed her eyes again. He bent his head to suck on one of her nipples, gently, carefully, his tongue making small circles around them and over the sensitive tip, making her sigh and grasp his arms, his chest. Mulder slipped one hand down between her legs, carefully, slowly pushing them apart, moving his fingers through the soft tufts of curly hair to touch her, finding her wet, hearing her gasp and moan softly at the touch. Mulder, Mulder, she whispered in his ear. Her words and sounds caused waves of love to crash over him. He smiled at her body moving under his touch, kissing her. So long, he thought, we have waited for this so long, and now it s going to be perfect. I love you, he whispered back to her. Scully felt him touching her, felt him causing her body to arch and move, felt him causing her to moan and say his name. Oh, Mulder, she thought...this is so right. So right. The pleasure within her began to build. Her moans got a little louder, her breathing more rapid. It s just the beginning, he said to her softly, lovingly. We have all night. We have forever. Suddenly, Scully felt a rapid shift. It was as if she had been yanked from her own body and placed at the side of the bed, hovering over it slightly. She could see what was going on below her. She was writhing under Mulder s touch, he was taking special care to make it perfect for her. He lifted himself up just as she was beginning to come. Positioned himself over her body. She was naked and vulnerable. His hair suddenly darkened, his build changed. His movements, before so tender and gentle, were becoming rough. Scully blinked rapidly a few times, and she was back on the bed, coming, moaning, and he was on top of her, his fingers gone, and she felt him forcing himself into her. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut for a moment, trying to make her body stop responding to him, but it was impossible. She couldn t stop the orgasm as it built, pushing her over the edge, moaning and crying out. Scully opened her eyes as she felt him push deep within her. Mulder was gone. Molinaro s face was over hers. His mouth was twisted into an evil smile, and he was laughing. You re coming for me now, aren t you, bitch? he asked, and Scully screamed. God, no, please, stop! Mulder moved to Scully s side immediately. She had began to come and she had somewhat faded out, but Mulder had assumed that it was because of the pleasure. She had closed her eyes, and then he had moved to cradle her, wanting her to open her eyes after the orgasm was over, to see that he was there, that she was safe. He had done all of that, knowing that once she had been relaxed again, that they would resume making love. He hadn t even come near to entering her. Stop, Mulder, God, stop him, please! she cried, and her words were beginning to disappear, her hands balled up over her eyes, sobbing in loud, terrified wails. Scully, it s me, I m here, Mulder repeated over and over. His heart was pounding in terror. He had read about flashbacks before, but never imagined what it would be like with Scully. He tried to think of what would make her feel better. He wrapped the sheet around his own body and the blanket around hers. I m here. It s OK. You re fine, he repeated, holding her carefully, not too tightly, lightly stroking her forehead as she sobbed wordlessly. ****** Scully opened her eyes. Through hazy vision she could see that she was still in her bed, with Mulder curled up next to her, one arm protectively around her waist. As she blinked, Mulder stirred next to her, kissing her forehead lightly. Hi, he said softly. How are you doing? Scully wrapped her arms tighter around his waist. Scully could feel immediately that he was wearing his jeans. She was wearing a soft flannel nightgown. How did I get this on? she asked, bewildered and still scared. I found it in one of your drawers. I figured...you wouldn t want to wake up with no clothes on. Scully nodded gratefully. She closed her eyes, pushing her face into the pillow, trying to hide the tears. It was too late. Mulder had seen them. And he had seen the embarrassment and shame she was trying to keep from him as well. I m sorry, she said, her voice muffled. Mulder lightly rubbed her back, keeping his arm around her supportively. Dana, there s nothing to be sorry about. She pulled her face up to look at him, her tearstained cheeks red. But, Mulder-- Honey, there s nothing to be sorry about, he repeated, firmly. It s OK. Scully put her face back into the pillow and cried. When Mulder tried to pull her up so that he could hold her more fully, she let him. Ten months had passed. Molinaro had not come calling, or made any contact. Scully had gone back into therapy. Mulder had willing moved in with her as soon as she had suggested it. He attended support groups for partners of victims of sexual assault. Scully s nightmares had resumed with alarming frequency soon after the first time they had tried to make love, but were back on the decline. Occasionally she would have a particularly terrifying one, and would wake up screaming, and Mulder was there to hold her and calm her and help her fall back asleep. Scully had broken the news about the progression of her relationship with Mulder to her mother, who couldn t have been more pleased. Another FBI agent in the family, she had joked initially, but had added later, Dana, I m so glad that you two found each other. For the first few months, Mulder had continued paying rent for his apartment, although he had moved all of his things - books and clothes and his small array of furniture and knick knacks - into Scully s place. Scully had insisted upon it. She was nervous that Sould find out and fire them. But a month later, Skinner had called both of them in for another off the record conversation and had told them that he approved of their relationship. Of course he hadn t said it in so many words. But he had said it. The one thing he had said with firmness, which had surprised both Mulder and Scully, was to Mulder as they were leaving the office. I would certainly hope, Agent Mulder, that you would hurry up and marry Agent Scully, he had said in a low voice. I ve been expecting it, but I sure as hell didn t think you d take this long to do it. And then he had smiled at the two of them. Mulder and Scully finally made love for the first time almost seven months after the first time they tried. When it was over, Mulder held Scully tightly in his arms, kissed the top of her head, and rubbed her back. You OK? he asked. Uh-huh, she mumbled. Honey, look at me. Scully turned to look at him. He expected the tears, the trembling, the vivid flashbacks that were real to her and unfathomable to him. On Scully s face was a smile. A smile. Her eyes were brimming with tears, but for once Mulder knew that they were not from fear. I pushed him out, Scully said to him. Out of my head. Good for you, Mulder said, prouder of her than he had ever been before. He had known that this day would come. He knew that she would still have the flashbacks when they would make love, but he was hoping, as she was, that with this breakthrough, the occurrences would be less. I don t know why you stay with me, Scully had said to him one night after calming down from a flashback. Because I love you, Mulder had answered simply. Thank you, she had whispered as they were about to drift off to sleep that night. For what? Mulder had asked. For not treating me as if I was fragile, she had answered, remembering telling him that once before. You re not fragile, he had mumbled back to her, his voice sleepy. You re the only one who can make yourself be strong. Remember that. Mulder kissed her now, kissing the tears of happiness that had fallen on her cheeks. Scully, I was thinking, now is as good of a time as any to talk about this. Remember what Skinner said to me? Scully sat up in bed and kissed Mulder quickly. Of course I do. So what do you say? he asked. Boy, Mulder, you sure do have a way with romantic proposals, Scully teased him. She had been hoping for something a little more romantic. Which, of course, Mulder knew. He had already been ring shopping with Margaret Scully almost six weeks earlier, and with her help, had picked out the perfect ring. Well, I know you like romance and all that, but you know me, I prefer the element of surprise. Mulder reached under the mattress and pulled out a small velvet box. Mulder, Scully gasped in astonishment, how long has that been there? About a month, he answered, opening the box to reveal the ring. Scully s eyes pooled up again. Dana Katherine Scully, will you do me the great honor and pleasure of becoming my wife? Scully nodded, letting him slip the ring on her finger. Yes, she whispered, hardly able to speak. ****** Dana Scully opened the door to the classroom that was used for the weekly support groups that she had been attending off and on for almost four years. In the past months, she had felt more and more of a need to attend them again more regularly, and had found the support and understanding from the other women there to be somehow more helpful now than it had been right after her rape almost four years previous. Scully scanned the room quickly. There were a few faces that she knew, and she nodded her head in hello to them. In the corner, alone, sat Allison Westfall. Scully went to her side immediately. Allison, how are you? she asked. She had last seen Allison in a hospital in Virginia four months ago. Allison had spent the better part of four years denying her feelings about the rape that had destroyed her marriage and a good part of her life and sanity. Scully was more than a little surprised to see her here. Hi, Dana, Allison greeted her, glad to see a familiar face. I m okay. I m a little surprised to see you here, Scully confessed. Allison nodded. You know, I was thinking a lot about what you said the last time I saw you. About how healing only happens when you open yourself up to the things that have hurt you. I said that? Scully asked, smiling. God, I sounds so preachy. It s terrible. No, Allison answered, it s not. It got me thinking. For the last three and a half years now I ve been denying all the feelings about what happened that have been tearing me apart. And you know what? I m tired of doing it. I m tired of being a victim. Scully nodded. I ve been going to a few different support groups, trying to find one that I felt comfortable in. I was here last week. It felt good...to talk about things. To open up. Scary, but good. Scully nodded again. I wasn t here last week, but I m glad you came back. It s a good group. I m glad you re here. It almost makes it seem like it makes it more right. Someone I already know, someone I know is already supportive, being here...it makes all the difference. The thing I hate the most is that most people treat me differently when they know I was raped. Like any little thing they say is going to hurt me, or break me. I m stronger than that. It s taken me a long time to realize it, but I am. And I ve been able to find certain people in my life who realize it, too. Scully reached out and took Allison s hand, squeezing it, tears filling her eyes as she understood exactly what Allison meant. She closed her eyes for a moment as she silently thanked Mulder for his love and support, and for his reminders to her that she was as strong as she let herself be. END Thanks for reading!