**********************************************************************
WARNING: Part one of this story is rated NC-17 for the graphic
depiction of a rape involving Scully, and its violent aftermath.  If
you are sensitive to such subject matter, please read no further.  The
story is very dark and very disturbing.  It is meant to be. Part two
is rated R.  There's no explicit sex or violence.  However the
aftermath of a violent rape and murder is described in detail.
YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
************************************************************
DISCLAIMER:  The X-files' Universe and all characters therein are the
property of CC and Co., 10-13 Productions and FTN.  I am just
borrowing them without permission.  No copyright infringement
intended.
************************************************************
Shame (1/2)--The Violation
by Little JO

FBI Headquarters, Washington D.C.
January, 1996
11:21 p.m.

Special Agent Dana Scully was exhausted.  It had been a long, tedious
day, spent catching up on Bureau paperwork.  Her partner, Fox Mulder,
had left earlier that evening--winning the coin toss and leaving her
to finish the Dunning report.  It was now sitting in an interoffice
mail envelope, waiting to be delivered to Assistant Director Walter
Skinner bright and early tomorrow morning.  

As the elevator doors slid open, revealing the agency parking garage,
Dana paused to scan it for signs that she was not alone.  *Better safe
than sorry, Dana,* she thought to herself, grimacing slightly. *Just
because you're paranoid, doesn't mean they're not out to get you.*

Satisfied there was no one but her in the lot, Dana headed for her
car.  It was one of only three vehicles left.  Key at the ready, she
quickly opened the door, tossing her briefcase and notebook computer
on the passenger seat and getting in.  She immediately locked the door
and started up the engine, letting it warm up a bit.  She shivered
slightly at the cold, cranking the heat as she threw the car into
gear.

Arriving at her townhouse fifteen minutes later, Dana killed the
engine, and sat for a few minutes in the snug, warm car, thinking.
About her life and the choices she had made.  About her family.  And
inevitably, Ahab and Melissa.  The edges of her vision blurred as the
tears welled up and her chest tightened with pain.  Sighing, Dana hung
her head.  *Does it ever get better?* she thought, taking a deep
breath.  *Okay, Dana, in with the good air, out with the bad...*  She
slowly expelled the air. Her tears receded, and her usually calm
exterior slipped back into place.  Getting out of the car, she walked
slowly towards her door, key again at the ready.  She let herself in,
immediately looking for Clyde, the Pomeranian, to greet her.

"Clyde!  Here, boy..."  She set her things on the hall table, frowning
slightly when the "usually ecstatic to see her" dog didn't appear.  A
slight breeze made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.  It took
her a second to realize that it was coming from the heating vent,
directly to the right of her. Closing her eyes, Dana called once more
for the dog.

"Clyde?!"  When she heard a whimper, coming from the top of the
stairs, her eyes shot open and she instinctively drew her gun.  Moving
cautiously across the living room to the bottom of the stairs, she
looked up, trying to discern Clyde's small figure.  As she reached for
the light switch, she was startled by a yip.  Throwing on the light,
she automatically dropped into a crouch behind the banister.  When no
bullet (or Clyde) materialized, she stood up, and stared at the door
to her bedroom beyond the top of the stairs.  As usual it was shut.
She always closed it to keep Clyde from sleeping on her bed during the
day.  She didn't want the dog to get too uppity.  He already thought
he was a person.  

Walking carefully up the stairs, stopping every so often, ears
straining, to listen, Dana approached the bedroom door.  Flattening
herself against the wall to the left of it, she reached for the door
knob.  Another yip and then scratching noises emanated from within.
Taking a deep breath, she quickly turned the knob, thrusting the door
open and again flattening herself against the wall.  An indignant ball
of red fur came tumbling out, shooting past Dana and down the stairs.
Before she could react, a strong hand gripped the wrist of her gun
hand, simultaneously pulling her into the darkened room and yanking
her arm down hard across a knee.  With a cry of pain, Dana released
the gun and found herself slammed up against the wall inside the
bedroom, her right arm twisted painfully against her back.

A voice she recognized and that sent chills down her spine whispered,
"Guess who?"

Alexandria, VA.
Special Agent Fox Mulder's Apartment
12:35 a.m.

Mulder lay on his sofa, only half watching the bodies writhing on the
television screen.  He was feeling slightly guilty, cutting out and
leaving Scully to finish the Dunning report on her own.

*You won the coin toss, fair and square,* he thought childishly to
himself.  Scowling and leaning forward to pick up the remote, Mulder
fast forwarded through the stilted dialog scene, hitting play again
when he got to the lesbian threesome scene.  

Settling back on the sofa, he gnawed at his lower lip.  *Besides, it's
not like the two of you have been getting along so well...*  The
comfortable silences were becoming decidedly uncomfortable.  He
pondered the many reasons why.  Her sister's death. His father's death
and the lies that came to light because of it.  The Lucy Householder
case.  The Kryder case.  He winced, remembering his partner's obvious
pain at his disbelief.  He hated hurting her.  But he also felt a
tinge of satisfaction.  *Quid pro quo,* he thought, for her
psychoanalyzing him during the Householder case.  

*Still...You should call her, just to make sure she made it home
okay.*  He rolled his eyes.  *Right Mulder, and listen to her
exasperated sighs.  No way!*

Letting out a low, frustrated growl, he snapped the t.v. off and
tossed the remote on the floor.  Turning off the lamp beside him, he
pulled the comforter up and closed his eyes.

...Only to have them shoot open as his cellular phone shrilled loudly.
With a groan he reached for it, digging under the newspapers and empty
take out cartons on the coffee table in front of him.  Finding it at
last, he arrested it in mid-shrill...

"Mulder."

Silence.

Suddenly alert, he sat up, frowning.

"Scully?"

A voice, barely audible, came over the receiver.

"Mulder, it's me."

"Scully, what is it?  What's wrong?"

He heard her draw in a deep, shaky breath.  Then she said, "Mulder,
you need to come over right away.  Something's happened."  And before
he could get out an "I'll be right there," she disconnected.
"Shit!" Mulder quickly threw a sweater on over his tee shirt and
pulled on his running shoes and a coat.  He picked up his gun, which
he had carelessly thrown on the kitchen table, checking to make sure
it had a full clip.  Not bothering to put it in it's holster, he
shoved it into his coat pocket and ran out the door, slamming it
behind him.


Dana Scully's Townhouse
11:40 p.m.

"Krycek," she gasped.  Before she could react, she heard a *snick*,
and then the cold feel of metal enclosing first her right, then her
left wrist.  Gripping her upper arms, Krycek swung her around towards
her bed and forcefully pushed her onto it.  Landing on her stomach,
Dana immediately twisted to the side, and then onto her back.  She
winced as the cuffs bit painfully into the tender flesh of her wrists.
Struggling to sit up, she finally managed to prop herself against the
headboard.

Throughout this, Krycek stood, watching, a slight smile twisting his
lips.  The smile faded when he saw the hate shining out of her blue
eyes.  

"What do you want?"  Dana demanded, shifting slightly to relieve the
pressure on her arms and shoulders.

Krycek moved closer to her, sitting on the edge of the bed.  Dana, not
breaking eye contact, instinctively pulled her legs up, pressing them
tightly against her chest.  It was a protective gesture, one which
unconsciously communicated her fear to Krycek.  

Chuckling slightly, he once again smiled.  Reaching out a hand to
touch her cheek, he said simply, "You."

Jerking her head away from him, as if she had been burned, Dana
stammered, "Wha..wha..what?"  

"Oh, I think you heard me," he said, that maddening smile still on his
face.

*He's fucking with you, Dana.  Stay cool.  Don't let him see your
fear.*

Licking her suddenly too dry lips, she croaked, "I'd rather die than
have you touch me, you rat bastard!"

His face twisting in anger, Krycek struck her, the force of the blow
making her head collide painfully with the headboard.  Before she
could recover, he grabbed a hand full of her hair, jerking her head
back.  Staring into her eyes, he snarled, "And I'd like to oblige you,
believe me I would.  But that would be too easy.  You see, it's
because of you and that son-of-a-bitch partner of yours that I'm in my
current predicament.  Before it wasn't personal.  I was just doing my
job.  But that's all changed." Releasing her, he stood up, glaring
balefully down at her.  

Dana, ignoring the ache in her head, met his gaze, refusing to be
intimidated by him.  The pain had galvanized her, fueling both her
anger and determination.  Her face an impassive mask, she watched as
the anger that had marred his handsome features faded away, to be
replaced with a cocky grin.

"Besides, I don't think you have much of a choice, do you?"  he said.

With a cry of rage, Dana launched herself at him, using the headboard
for leverage.  The force of her 110 pound frame hitting him in the
chest knocked Krycek to the floor.  Dana landed heavily on top of him,
then rolled and scrambled to her knees.  Krycek, only momentarily
winded, twisted and grabbed her by the hair, yanking her backwards
onto the floor.  Quickly he straddled her hips, using his hands to
painfully pin her shoulders to the ground.

"You'll pay for that," he growled.  Grabbing her by the front of her
blouse, he jerked her to her feet, ripping the flimsy material.
Spinning her around, he once more shoved her onto the bed.  As she
landed, he kneeled on top of her, digging his knees into her back.
Despite the pain, Dana bucked underneath him, trying to throw him off.

Forcing her arms upwards he hissed, "Lie still, or I'll break your
fucking arms!" Dana froze.  Suddenly there was a *snicking* sound and
the unbearable stress on her shoulders, arms and wrists disappeared.
Realizing he had undone the cuffs, Dana rolled over and sat up.
Rubbing at the bruised flesh on her wrists she stared at Krycek, now
holding a gun on her.

"Strip!" her ordered.

When she hesitated, Krycek reached for her, yanking her to her knees.
Kneeling unsteadily, Dana raised a small, unsteady hand to the front
of what was left of her blouse.  Locking eyes with him, her face
burning with a combination of anger and shame, she undid the remaining
buttons and slipped the blouse off her shoulders, letting it fall onto
the bed.  She then undid the hook of her skirt and slid it over her
hips.  When she moved to get up off the bed, Krycek's hand tightened
on the gun's trigger.  Watching him warily, she stepped out of her
skirt, kicking it away from her, her mind working in overdrive.

She knew, with the gun trained on her, she couldn't take him down.
Her only hope was to get to the extra gun she kept taped to the
underside of the night stand.

Krycek's gaze raked over her body, taking in the sight of her--the
creamy white skin, the dusting of golden freckles across her chest and
shoulders, the full hips and thighs, the tiny waist and plump breasts.
Dana fought down a wave of nausea as she noticed the bulge in his
jeans.  A shudder ran through her as she realized he was enjoying the
power he had over her.  Then, a thought struck her...

*Work him...Don't let him control the situation, Dana.*

Her lips twisting into a smile, Dana slowly reached behind her back
and undid her bra, carelessly tossing the slip of silk and lace to the
floor.  Afraid she would lose her nerve, she quickly removed her
panties and went to kneel once more on the bed.

Krycek, breathing heavily, said softly.  "Okay, I want you to lie face
down."

Dana, her guts twisting with sudden fear, complied.  She could hear
the distinct sounds of a man disrobing--of hands fumbling with a
buckle, the sound of a zipper being lowered, the scratch of denim
against skin.  She jerked when she felt the bed sag under his weight
and the gun's cool metal pressed to the base of her skull.

"Now, slowly turn over and face me."  

Swallowing, Dana carefully rolled over to find a naked Krycek staring
down at her, a gun gripped tightly in his hand.  Smiling, he lowered
the tip of the gun until it was in contact with her throat.  Her blue
eyes widened as he slowly drew it down along her sternum, tracing the
curve of her breast, flicking her nipple with it.

Leaning down, he whispered, "You're beautiful when you're frightened."

Pressing the gun into her side, he lowered his head, taking her nipple
into his mouth.  Dana bit back a cry of surprise as he ran his tongue
around it, alternately sucking and biting the sensitive tips.
Squirming against him, she tried to pull away, only to feel the tip of
his gun press painfully into her side.  She lay still as Krycek
straightened, moving his hand down her body, finally coming to rest as
he cupped her mons.

Closing her eyes, Dana bit back the urge to whimper, to beg him to
stop...

Smiling, Krycek parted her, lightly stroking her thighs, feeling the
cleft between her legs.  He frowned when he felt how dry she was.  To
remedy the situation, he inserted  first one, then two fingers into
her.  Gently, he rotated his hand, his thumb lightly stroking her
clitoris as he began to thrust his fingers in and out.  The cocky
smile returned as her vagina became increasingly tight and wet.
Bending his head, he once more began to suckle her breasts.  

Dana, unable to control herself, writhed underneath him, moaning, as
her hips, unbidden, moved in perfect synch with his fingers.  An ache,
demanding release, began to build in her womb...

...and then she was falling, convulsing around his fingers as she
came, sobbing as the shame and pleasure washed over her.

Krycek rode the orgasm with her, only stopping when she lay quiet. He
then withdrew his fingers.  She watched him through shuttered eyes as
he licked them clean of her juices.

Dazed, Dana didn't struggle or protest when he flipped her onto her
stomach.  Grasping her hips, gun still in hand, he tilted her up
slightly, sliding his aching cock into her slick folds.  Dana moaned
softly, at his weight, his hardness filling and stretching her.  

Krycek came quickly, rutting between her thighs, unable to prolong his
satisfaction.  Through the haze enfolding her brain, as his cock was
still spasming inside her, Dana thought *Now!*

A rush of adrenaline surging through her, she heaved herself up,
driving her left elbow into his throat.  Choking, Krycek fell away
from her, his gun hand pinned beneath him.  Dana twisted free of him,
lunging for her gun.  Her hand tore it from its hiding place as she
hit the floor.  Rolling over, she brought it up to point it at his
head.  Although she was shaking from a combination of fear and shock,
Dana managed to hold the gun steady.

The impact of the bullet snapped Krycek's head back, shattering bone
as it penetrated the gray matter beyond.  Slumping forward, he lay,
blood dripping unto her hard wood floor.

Dana sat for what seemed like hours, in the growing pool of blood, too
numb to move.  Finally, she shakily got to her feet.  Picking up the
phone on her bedside table, she automatically hit speed dial.

"Mulder."

She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"Scully?"

Wetting her lips she whispered, "Mulder, it's me."

"Scully, what is it?  What's wrong?"  Through the haze still clouding
her thoughts, Dana could hear the concern in his voice.  A feeling of
relief flooded her, completely irrational, but comforting none the
less.

Drawing in a deep, shaky breath, she spoke carefully into the phone.
"Mulder, you need to come over right away.  Something's happened."
She then lowered the phone from her ear, only vaguely aware that
Mulder was still speaking as she turned it off.

Dana Scully's Townhouse
1:05 a.m.

With a squeal of tires, Mulder brought the car to a halt in front of
Dana's home.  Running to the door, he fumbled with the key she had
given him, letting himself in.  No Scully.  No Clyde.  Noting her
briefcase and notebook computer on the hall table, Mulder moved into
the living room.  Everything looked normal.  A whining sound from the
direction of the sofa made him draw his gun, taking off the safety.

"Scully!" he called.  No answer.  But Clyde suddenly crawled out from
under the couch, and ran over to him, yapping excitedly.  Mulder
ignored the dog and headed up the stairs.  The door to Scully's
bedroom was closed.  Carefully, he opened it, his gun held at the
ready.  He paused for a moment in the doorway, letting his eyes adjust
to the dark.  A soft humming sound came from a figure huddled at the
foot of the bed.

Stepping closer, he said softly, "Scully?"  It was then he noticed the
body slumped behind her.

Stifling a gasp, he whirled around and switched on the light,
illuminating the scene before him.

Scully, naked and covered in blood, sat with her legs drawn tightly to
her chest, rocking gently.  The body of a man hung over the edge of
the bed, the top of his head blown off.  Mulder quickly moved to her,
squatting down to look into her eyes.  What he saw there sent a chill
down his spine.  Standing up, he walked over to the body.  Carefully,
turning him over, Mulder's eyes widened in surprise.

"Jesus..." he whispered.

Moving around to stand in front of Scully again, he pulled his cell
phone out of his coat pocket and dialed 911.

"I'm Special Agent Fox Mulder, badge number..."

As if from a great distance, Dana heard someone *Mulder?* calling for
an ambulance.

*You're in shock, Dana, snap out of it,* she thought.  

Suddenly, she began to violently shake, her teeth painfully knocking
together.

Disconnecting, Mulder took off his coat and kneeled to wrap it around
her.  

"Scully?  Dana...It's going to be all right.  You're just a little
shocky right now," Mulder said, trying to be reassuring.  He reached
out a tentative hand to brush a strand of red hair away from her face.
She was cold and clammy to the touch.  Drawing her to him, he gently
began to stroke her back through the coat to warm her.

Finally, after a moment, Mulder gently tipped her head up so he could
look into her eyes.  The irises were no longer completely dilated.
However her breathing was still rapid, and she was still shivering.
Suppressing a sigh, he knew he would have to wait to ask her about
what happened.  He would also have to ward off the questions of the
local police.    Although, from the state of their undress, it was
pretty obvious what had happened.  Krycek had tried to rape her.
*Had* raped her.  The thought made him physically ill.  

*But she's alive,* he thought *That's all that matters.*

His arms tightened around as the sound of sirens wailed in the
distance.  Bending his head, he whispered, "I'm here, Dana.  Please
don't be afraid.  I'm here."

************************************************************
Shame (2/2)--The Healing
by Little JO

D.C. General
Washington, D.C.
January, 1996

Mulder nervously perched on a stool in an examining room at D.C.
General, waiting with his partner, and friend, Dana Scully.  Opposite
them, leaning casually against the wall, was a policewoman, her face
deliberately devoid of emotion.  Acting as if it were perfectly normal
for a woman to sit, on an examining table in a busy E.R., covered in
blood.

The three of them waited, silent, amid a flurry of early Saturday
morning activity.  Waited for a doctor, any doctor, to arrive and
examine Dana.  To take the necessary blood and semen samples.  To
gather the evidence that would vindicate her and justify the body now
on its way to the morgue.

Mulder glanced at his hand, which was being tightly gripped by the
woman sitting beside him.  His bloodied trench coat had been replaced
by a hospital gown.  A physician's assistant had initially checked her
for injuries, cleaning the blood from her face, her voice soothing as
she poked and prodded.

Throughout it Dana hadn't said a word, refusing, or unable to speak.
She just sat, perfectly still, her mouth pressed into a grim line, her
eyes empty.

Looking at her, a shiver passed over him as he remembered what he had
found when he'd arrived at her apartment.  Fear had twisted his
insides when he'd first seen her, huddled at the foot of the bed,
naked and covered in blood.  He'd thought it was *her* blood.  Then
he'd caught sight of the body sprawled naked on the bed behind her.
And he had known what had taken place, even before he'd turned the
body over.  

Krycek.  

He had...The son of bitch had...

Mulder stopped, unable to complete the thought.  He swallowed around
the lump that suddenly formed in his throat.

Abruptly he got to his feet and growled at the policewoman, "Where the
hell is the doc..."

Just then a young resident, dressed in green scrubs, walked in, a
clipboard in his hand. Ignoring Mulder, he came to a stop in front of
Dana.

Glancing at the chart, he said quietly, "Hello.  You must be Ms.
Scully.  I'm Doctor Barrows.  I'll be doing your examination."

Dana stared straight past him, as if he wasn't even there.  However,
Mulder caught the flicker of fear in her eyes at the word
"examination."

Somewhat disconcerted, the doctor turned to Mulder.

"And you are...?"

Mulder felt the hackles rise on the back of his neck. 

*Who the hell did this pissant think he was...*

Dragging his eyes away from Dana, he scowled down at the shorter man.

"Agent Fox Mulder.  Federal Bureau of Investigation.  *Dr.* Dana
Scully is my partner."

His use of her title wasn't lost on the young doctor.

"Well, Agent Mulder.  If you and the officer will just wait outside,
I'll begin my examination of Dr. Scully."

Mulder just glared at him.  He was about to open his mouth to speak,
when a hoarse whisper stopped him.

"No."

Surprised, both he and the doctor swung around to face Dana.

"Excuse me?"

Licking her lips, Dana said carefully, "No.  I want him to stay."

Dr. Barrows seemed unconvinced.  "Are you sure?  We could have someone
from rape crisis come down and sit with you?"

"Doctor," she said stiffly, "I think I'm capable of making my own
decisions.  I want him to stay."

Nodding, Dr. Barrow's voice became conciliatory.  "Okay.  As long as
you're comfortable."

Mulder felt a wave of relief wash over him.  Relief that she seemed to
be coming out of it at last.  And because she wanted him to stay with
her.

However, his relief quickly turned to discomfort as Dr. Barrows pulled
on a pair of rubber gloves.  Turning to Dana he said, "Okay, Dr.
Scully.  Since you're a doctor I won't bore you with the details of
what I'm going to do.  So, lets get started.  I need you to lie
back...That's good.  Now...scoot forward a bit..."

Dana complied with his instructions, never releasing Mulder's hand.
For his part, Mulder concentrated on watching the doctor, sparing only
brief glances at his partner.  He was afraid to look.  Outwardly, she
appeared to be calm.  But he knew she couldn't be, not really.

His fears were confirmed when, as the cold metal of the speculum
penetrated her, Dana sharply drew in her breath.  At the hissing noise
she made, Dr. Barrows muttered, "Sorry.  Just relax," then locked it
into position.  

"Well, it doesn't look like your assailant wore a condom," Dr. Barrows
noted grimly.  "I'll want to do a blood test to rule out HIV.  Are you
currently using birth control, Dr. Scully?"

Dana mutely nodded.

"Good."  He quickly and efficiently took the necessary samples to test
for exposure to STD's, as well as a semen sample for evidence.

Removing the speculum, Dr. Barrows inserted one then two gloved
fingers into the opening of her vagina.  A soft whimper escaped Dana's
lips at this intrusion.  Mulder winced, as her hand tightened
painfully around his own.

"Doctor.  I think you're hurt..."

"Agent Mulder, I have to do this.  I need to see if there's any
evidence of tearing or other internal injuries."

Mulder, silenced, looked away from the doctor to Dana.  She lay
perfectly still, her pale face a frozen mask.

And then he noticed the silent tears tracking down her cheeks.  

Mulder felt the rage that had been lurking just underneath the shock,
horror and grief explode to the surface.  He wanted to break
something.  To hurt someone.  But the someone most deserving of being
hurt was already dead.  Lashing out wouldn't do anyone any good.  Dana
needed him to be calm, to think clearly.  To make sure that the
evidence was collected according to procedure.  That there were no
mistakes.

As Dr. Barrows removed his hand, he asked, "Were you penetrated analy,
Dr. Scully?"

Dana vigorously shook her head, her lips pressed tightly together.

"Okay, we'll skip that part of the exam.  I'm just going to comb for
fibers and then you can sit back up, okay?"

While the doctor bagged and labeled what he'd found, Mulder helped
Dana into a sitting position.  Her eyes were still shut, although the
tears had stopped.  Without thinking, he gently wiped at the wetness
on her face with his hand.  Dana flinched away from his touch, her
blue eyes snapping open.

"Sorry," he whispered.  The rage he felt melted away and was replaced
by self-loathing as he stared into those fear filled eyes. 

Dr. Barrows finished up the exam by taking a couple vials of blood.
He then filled a syringe.

"Please roll over, Dr. Scully.  I'd like to give you a dose of
antibiotics.  Just as a precaution."

With a cry, Dana released Mulder's hand.  Scooting away from the
doctor, she clasped her knees protectively against her chest.

"No!  I don't need a shot!  Just give me my clothes.  I want to go
home."

Setting the syringe down, Dr. Barrows soothed, "It's okay Dr. Scully.
You don't have to have the shot.  We'll wait for the tests to come
back."

Dana shaking, nodded, then dropped her head onto her knees.  Mulder
had to lean forward to hear her muffled voice.

"Mulder, please get my clothes.  I want to go home."

"Okay, Scully."

Dr. Barrows snapped his gloves off, tossing them into the bin marked
"biomedical waste."  Gesturing towards the door, he said, "I'll be
outside making my report to the police."

Handing her the change of clothes he'd had the presence of mind to
bring with them to the hospital, Mulder murmured, "Get dressed.  I'll
be right back."

Quickly walking outside, he found the doctor reading from his
clipboard while the policewoman scribbled away in a notebook.

"...more definite once the rape kit results come back. Vaginal
penetration definitely took place.  There was semen present.  No anal
penetration.  There doesn't appear to be any bruising around the
entrance to her vagina, although the P.A. did find evidence of
bruising and abrasions on her wrists."

"Handcuffs were found at the scene."

Dr. Barrows nodded.  "That would be consistent with what I found.  The
earlier exam also revealed a pretty nasty bump on her head.  As well
as bruises on her right side."

He paused, taking a deep breath.

"All and all, given the evidence, I don't think I'd be going out on a
limb by saying she was sexually assaulted."

Mulder stood by silently as the policewoman thanked the doctor for his
time and then started to walk back into the examining room.  Mulder
stepped in front of her, blocking her path.

"What do you think you're doing?"

The woman bristled.  

"Questioning a possible rape victim, who also just happened to blow
her assailant's head off.  In other words...doing my job."

The two of them faced off in the hallway, neither making any move to
back down.  Mulder knew he was being an asshole, but he couldn't stop
himself.

Then the policewoman's eyes slid away from Mulder's intense stare,
looking past his head at something behind him.

Whirling around, he came face to face with Dana.

"Mulder?  I'd like to go home now."

Seeing an opening, the policewoman pushed past the startled man to
stand in front of her.

The harsh tone of voice she'd used with Mulder softened as she spoke
to Dana.

"Agent Scully.  Please.  I'd like to ask you a few questions first.
While events are still fresh in your mind."

Dana looked helplessly up at Mulder.  Instinctively he went to her,
placing a protective arm around her shoulders.  The anger gone, his
eyes were pleading as he looked at the policewoman.

"Please...Can't this wait.  I promise. I'll bring her down to the
police station tomorrow to make a statement."

Sighing, the policewoman shook her head.

"I'm sorry.  But it's standard procedure to get a statement right
away."

Moving out from under his arm, Dana turned to face him.  

"It's okay, Mulder.  "I'd just as soon get this over with."

"You're sure?"  When she didn't answer him, he frowned, running a hand
through his hair.

"Okay, but do you want me with you?"  

Dana shook her head.  "No.  I think this will be easier if you're
not."  

Wincing at her words, he helplessly watched as she and the policewoman
walked over to a couple of chairs and sat down facing each other.
Dana quietly related what had happened while the officer listened,
occasionally interrupting her to ask a question.

Finally, satisfied, the officer pocketed her notebook and stood.
Mulder overheard her say, "We'll contact you if we have any more
questions," before she left.

Dana stood as well.  But she didn't move.  Instead, she stared off
into the distance.  She gave a start when Mulder passed a hand in
front of her face to get her attention.

His voice gentle he asked, "Are you sure you want to go home, Scully?
Maybe you should stay with your mother?"

Dana stepped back from him as if she'd been struck.  

"No, no, no.  I can't.  I couldn't face..."  Her voice trailed off.

"Okay.  But at least let me take you to my place."

With a slight nod, Dana allowed him to lead her outside into the cold
January morning.

*******************************************************

On the way to his apartment, Mulder made a detour to her townhouse in
order to pick up some clothes for her.  

Waiting in the car for him to return, Dana stared blankly out the
window at the gradually lightening sky.

The numbness had started wearing off as she had sat waiting to be
examined.  An awareness of her surroundings had slowly begun to seep
into her consciousness, to impinge on the part of herself she had
carefully locked away after hanging up the phone on Mulder.  As the
full horror of what had happened washed over her.

Now, as the thoughts, unbidden, rose to the surface, she wished with
all her might for that blessed nothingness to engulf her.

*He raped you.*

*You let him rape you.*

*How could you let him rape you?*

She jumped when Mulder opened the door on the driver's side, tossing
her overnight bag into the back and then climbing into the driver's
seat.

Without having to look at him, she knew he was staring at her.  She
deliberately stared straight ahead, ignoring him.

With a sigh, Mulder started the car and drove the rest of the way
home.

*******************************************************

The sound of running water accompanied his movements as he put fresh
sheets on the bed he so rarely used.  

Except when he brought someone home...Someone who often bore a
striking resemblance to the woman standing in his shower.

He imagined her in there, scrubbing at the blood.  Trying desperately
to remove all traces of the violent act perpetrated against her.  By
Krycek.

*He raped her.*

The thought made him weak.  His knees buckling, he slumped to the
floor, leaning against the bed for support.  Cradling his head in his
hands, pictures of her being held down, of her being penetrated...of a
fearful and helpless Dana Scully...overwhelmed him.

With a moan, he pressed his hands to his eyes, as if by covering them
he could stop what he was seeing in his mind's eye.

*I should have been there.*

*Why wasn't I there?*

He snapped back to the present when he realized that the water had
stopped running in the next room.  Quickly pulling himself to his
feet, he turned his back to the bathroom door, trying to compose
himself.

A soft voice, questioning, came from behind him.

"Mulder?"

"Yeah, Scully?"

"I...I just wanted to thank you, Mulder."

He clutched the pillow that he had been fussing with against his
chest, hanging his head.

"For what?" he whispered hoarsely.

"For being there...For staying with me at the hospital...For
protecting me."

Silent tears began to fall as he considered the gravity of her words.

Dana Scully had never thanked him for protecting her.  Never.  She was
too fiercely independent.  Too stubborn, to ever admit vulnerability.

She had just admitted it to him now.

And it shook him to the very core of his being.

******************************************************

Dana lay in Mulder's bed, staring at the shadows cast by the bedside
lamp on the ceiling.  She couldn't sleep.  If she slept, she'd dream.
And she couldn't dream.  Not yet.

Mulder, trying to hide that he was crying, had hugged her fiercely and
then abruptly left, mumbling something about her needing rest.

She had been surprised by his reaction to her words of thanks.  By the
tears he couldn't hide.

Biting her lip, she choked back an anguished sob.

*He raped you.*

*You let him rape you.*

*How could you let him do that to you?*

Flipping onto her stomach, she pulled the pillow over her head,
desperately trying to shut out the voice insinuating itself into her
consciousness.  But it wouldn't be silenced.

*You came.*

"He made me," she whispered.

*No one *makes* you come.  You could have stopped it if you'd wanted
to.*

"No, no, no.  Orgasm is as much a physiological as a psychological
response to external stimuli.  I couldn't help what happened."

The voice fell silent, only partially convinced.

*******************************************************

Mulder was lying on his couch, watching T.V. with the sound turned
low, when he heard the muffled sobs coming from his bedroom.

For a few moments he lay listening, uncertain what he should do.  When
her cries didn't subside, he wearily climbed to his feet and went to
investigate.

Dana slept, her hands convulsively gripping and releasing the covers
bunched at her waist.  Tears slid down her cheeks, her anguished sobs
punctuated by an occasional whimper.

Mulder stood helplessly, looking down at her.  It was clear she was
having a nightmare.  He needed to wake her, but was afraid of what
would happen when he did.

Kneeling beside the bed, he took a deep breath, and softly began
calling her name.

"Scully...Dana.  It's okay.  You're safe.  It's okay."

When she didn't respond, he frowned.  Laying a gentle hand on her arm,
he lightly shook it.

"Dana? Come on, wake up.  It's just a dream."

He could feel the panic rising inside him as her distress only seemed
to increase.  Finally, taking her by her shoulders, he shook her a
little harder.

"Dana!  For God's sake.  Wake up!"

With a shriek she came out of her dream, arms flailing as she tried to
push off the hands that were holding her down.  

Hands.  *His* hands.

Mulder tried to restrain her by wrapping his arms around her small
frame, ignoring the blows which rained down on his face, chest and
arms, attempting to keep him away.  All the while his voice soothed...

"Shhh.  It's okay.  You're safe.  It's okay."

His voice finally had the desired effect, reaching through the terror
that gripped her.  Dana went limp in his arms, sobs racking her body.

For a few minutes, her ragged cries were the only sounds in the room.
Mulder sat, gently rocking her, patiently waiting for her to regain
her composure.

After what felt like an eternity, she lay still.

Mulder thought perhaps she had fallen back asleep.  He shifted her in
his arms, intending to lay her back down on the bed.  He froze when
her voice, thick with tears, choked out.

"He raped me, Mulder."

"I know."

"I couldn't stop him...He had a gun.  I couldn't stop him."

Mulder gently stroked her hair, tamping down the horror he felt as the
words rushed out of her. 

"He wouldn't stop.  He put his fingers inside me.  He kept smiling
while I squirmed underneath him.  But I wouldn't beg him to stop.  I
couldn't beg him..."

Her voice trailed off.  And then, in a barely audible whisper...

"I came, Mulder."

Mulder felt himself tense against her, unable to stop himself.

*Ohgodohgodohgodohgod...*

Dana stiffened in his arms.  Her oval face was deathly white, her eyes
black, as she raised her head to look at him.

"You're disgusted..."

Her voice was flat, emotionless, belying the fear, self-hatred and
doubt he saw in her eyes.

Forcing his body to relax, Mulder pulled her more tightly against him.
His eyes sliding shut, he fought down the grief that threatened to
overwhelm him.

"No.  I'm not."

Seeing the pain in his face, Dana nodded her head, accepting his
answer.

"I'm so ashamed," she said.

*******************************************************

Dana stood outside the Roman Catholic Church, staring up at its
hulking stone facade.  She had been hovering outside its doors for
over fifteen minutes, unable to decide whether or not to go inside.

To make her confession.

And receive absolution.

It had been three weeks since her assault.  She was back at work,
after a review board had determined that she had discharged her weapon
in self defense.  The D.C. District Attorney's office would not be
pressing changes, given the circumstances that lead up to Krycek's
death.

She shuddered to think what might have happened if she hadn't been
able to get to her gun.  What had happened was bad enough.  But as the
therapist she was now seeing had assured her, it was preferable to
death.

Death.  A little piece of her *had* died when she had felt her body
responding to the man who had violated her.  She needed...no
wanted...that piece back.  But was afraid she would never regain it.
Or that it was too damaged to be of any use to her anymore.

Taking a deep breath, Dana walked into the church.  

It took a moment or two for her eyes to adjust to its dark interior.
Glancing around, a wave of familiarity washed over her.  All Catholic
churches were more alike than not.  There was the cistern of holy
water standing just outside the entrance to the church proper.  A wide
aisle, down which came the holy procession bearing the sacrificial
bread and wine, extended from the vestibule's doorway to the alter
bearing flowers, votive candles and incense.

Dana dipped her fingers in the holy water, making the sign of the
cross before entering.  Against the walls, on either side of the
church's pews, were the confessionals.  She carefully made her way to
one of them.  Climbing inside, she patiently waited before its small
window for the priest to arrive.

After a few minutes, the door to the screened window slid open
revealing the shadowy profile of the priest on the other side.

The words rolled off her tongue, effortlessly.

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.  It has been two months since
my last confession..."

As she spoke about the assault and its aftermath, the priest listened,
occasionally interjecting a question.  

When she was finished, she sat back, fear curling in the pit of her
stomach, his silence threatening to smother her.

Finally he spoke, his voice gentle.

"The Church recognizes the difference between murder committed with
the intent to do bodily harm and murder committed in self defense, to
preserve one's own life.  However, the Church does not sanction the
killing of another for revenge.  You mentioned that this man killed
your sister."

"Yes, Father."

"When you shot him, did you do so because you truly feared for your
life, or because of what he did to you and to your sister?"

Dana sat considering.  It was a question she had asked herself again
and again in the past weeks.  It was a question that had come up at
the review board and at the D.A.'s office.

Slowly Dana answered, choosing her words carefully.

"Father, I honestly don't know how to respond.  It was like my mind
was empty, except for one thought--to make him stop."

She paused, fingering the beads of the rosary clutched in her hand.
Melissa's rosary.  She and her mother had found it when they went
through her sister's things, tucked into a corner of a drawer.

Drawing strength from it, she continued.

"So, yes, I guess I was afraid.  So afraid I couldn't imagine any
other way to stop him except by killing him."

Glancing at his profile, she saw him nod, ever so slightly.

"Then you intended only to protect yourself.  His death was an
unintentional and unfortunate by-product of your instinctual desire to
stay alive."

Dana felt herself relax.

"As for the other thing you spoke of..."

Her eyes sliding shut, Dana tensed, awaiting his censure.

"You were the victim of a vile and immoral act.  You have been robbed
of things to which each of us has a right.  Respect.  Freedom.
Physical and moral integrity.  Although the Church looks upon pleasure
experienced from an immoral act as itself immoral, what you
experienced was a demonstration that the flesh is weak.  Our bodies
sometimes *do* betray us.  This fact is not an inherent sign of
weakness, except to the extent that God's intercession must be sought,
in order to restore the soul to its proper relation with God."

"Yes, Father," Dana whispered, tears gathering at the corners of her
eyes.

"Do not be distressed child.  God forgives all."

Dana kneeled, head bowed, as she received her penance and the
absolution,

"God, the Father of mercies,
through the death and the resurrection of his Son
has reconciled the word to himself
and sent the Holy Spirit among us
for the forgiveness of sins;
may God give you pardon and peace,
and I absolve you from your sins
in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.

"Peace be with you my child."

"And with you, Father."

*******************************************************

THE END