From: super jams Date: Fri, 5 Apr 2002 16:47:21 -0800 (PST) Subject: Something Familiar by rockrgrrl Source: direct Title: Something Familiar By: rockrgrrl Email: rockrgrrl885@yahoo.com Size: 37KB Date: 04-05 Apr 2002 Spoilers: none Type: Rape/M/S romance Summary: Scully is made vulnerable after she is raped, and Mulder is the one that steers her onto the road of recovery, and into the world of a bit of romance. // Note to the reader: I am a bit of a romantic at heart, but it's really only the ending that's sappy, so hopefully everyone will feel free to read my interpretation of how Mulder and Scully might deal with her being raped. Also, I apologize for bad grammar and choppy sentences. I hate proofreading beyond spellcheck, and my computer is profoundly retarded and sometimes messes up my text. Thank you for your understanding...and sympathy. // She could feel his hand pressed on her chest, holding her down, pushing her back.She could feel other hands affixed on her arms, harnessing her strength.Several massive bodies surrounded her and watched, but more importantly, waited. She felt a knee on top of her knee, keeping hers flexed and unable to move. She was spread out like a snow angel, three bodies holding her back from her heaven, and several more pacing around her. She could hear the tearing of her new twill pants, gray and her favorite pair. She could feel the warm stream of blood down her arm, staining her suit, from a knife cut in her right arm. Her pants were being torn with hands though, hungry ones running up and down her legs, the seams being broken by the devil's force. She cried out but a new hand covered her mouth. The hand over her chest tightened and knotted, pushing the knuckles against her breastbone. And finally, they were tearing her pants right down the center, right where she began to clench with fear and anxiety. Her instincts had been kicking in all along- gun on right side, knife in purse, cell phone in purse...purse in car. Gun on right...but where is it now? She decided to use her strength against them. They only pushed her into the gravel harder. The knuckles on her chest, the hands holding down her sides, and the others watching...the humiliation. But more importantly, they waited. She began to tingle nervously between her legs. Not pleasurably, but in horror, in anticipation. She was not willing. She was not willing! She could hear the unzipping of pants of the beast on top of her, and she could feel the pulsing of her heart all through her head and body. Her hands clenched at her sides, they gripped her tighter, until the men's' short nails were digging through her gray jacket and starting to break the skin. But the man on top of her, he began to tear her panties, to break through her and into her. He was repetitive, in and out, sliding, burning him no doubt because she was not willing. He continued on. She could not tell if he was through. The pain in her chest, the pain in her arms, and now this... It almost equaled the pain in her heart. But then relief spilled over her chest, as the very large man ceased to pulse into her, and she could hear his footsteps back away, but then a lighter tapping approached her. In her daze she could differentiate that they were two footsteps, and then she could feel the kneeling on her knee again, from someone else, with a very thin yet very heavy knee. He jammed his fingers into her, and her eyes flew open. For a moment she was very much alive and awake...waiting to see her life flash before her eyes, but instead she saw this devil's face, and began to cry imploringly. The thinner man thrashed around in her, and once he was done, he undid his pants and tore into her like the first man had. She let out a scream, but her head slammed into the sidewalk as a hand recovered her mouth. That was what she remembered. // "Mulder," Skinner said. "Agent Mulder." Mulder turned around in his swivel chair, from his computer to the door, where Skinner stood halfway in and halfway out. "Sir?" he acknowledged. "Agent Mulder, where is Agent Scully?" Skinner asked, a file in his hand. "Well, Sir, it is, exactly," Mulder began to say, revealing his watch from under his jacket sleeve, "Eight-o-seven. I'd give her another ten before you call out the search party." "Hmm," Skinner grunted. "Have her come to my office when she comes in." Skinner stepped away from the door. "And remind her that we begin work here at *eight*." "I'll tell her seven-fifty-nine, Sir," Mulder said, returning to his computer. It was a rare moment when Mulder didn't know where Scully was, or should be, or about to be, but he wasn't quite worried. He himself had only arrived at the office a few minutes after the crack of dawn -- usually he admired the sun coming up as he walked from his car to the office. "Traffic," Mulder muttered under his breath. As if it were an excuse around here, he thought; but he continued to tap away casually regardless. // There must have been a crack in Agent Scully's head, spreading all the way to her feet. The caky feel and stinky smell of blood etched last night's memories into her head. When she opened her eyes, she could see nothing. In a moment's panic, she reached into the darkness, only to find her problem to be an oversized piece of cardboard over her body. The dried blood was pretty much surrounding her tiny body. There was a puddle still drying between her legs. Scully, once she noticed this, began to shed tears and purse her lips in defeat, but her face ached, especially around her mouth. Her teeth felt loose...as if she had been punched. Scully lifted her arm to see if all her teeth were there, but it was so heavy, and also stained with drops of blood. Her sleeve fell back to reveal tiny marks, like nail scratches. She moved her arm to her mouth to feel her teeth, was relieved they were all accounted for, but fell back into a painful sleep. All that left her worn out. The sun now shined onto her face, where the cardboard had been removed, but Scully slept, even with the brightness of the sun and the darkness of her demeanor. Her mouth was caked with blood and dry as a bone. She slipped in and out of consciousness for a while, becoming thirstier, and stiffer. Eventually she slept for a long time, somewhat more comfortably because the pain was number than it was sharp now. // At 11 it was apparent he was alone for the day. Skinner had called to be sure that Scully was not present, and he informed Mulder he should call her house. Mulder chewed on a sunflower seed, the last that he could find in the whole office, then lifted the phone to execute Skinner's message. He wasn't quite worried, not completely, yet. His heart skipped a beat when he got no answer on her cell phone or at her house. Mulder stood and put his jacket on. He left the office and drove by way of her house. He let himself in and called for her, but he did not get a reply. He searched the rooms anyway, but left and sat in his car for a moment. He noticed then that her car was not parked outside the house. He started his engine, buckled up, then drove down the road slowly. He took notice of all the cars that he passed, and searched for any red-headed pedestrians. As he drove, he dialed Scully's cell phone number again with no response. After a few moments of unsuccessful searching and scanning of Scully's neighborhood, he veered off the road to the supermarket. As he was returning to his car, tearing open a new bag of sunflower seeds, Mulder glanced to his right. A crowd of people had gathered around the side of the huge store. There was police tape surrounding the area, holding the crowd of people back. There were only two or three officers, as far as Mulder could tell, but there might have been more people behind the ambulance. Mulder unlocked his door and threw his things into his car, then marched to the scene. A gurney was being removed from the ambulance, the paramedics leading it toward a pile of discarded sheets of cardboard. A news crew was pulling into the supermarket parking lot. The manager of the supermarket stared franticly around the corner of his building, to where the mass of people was growing and to where the cameramen were appearing. Mulder stepped through the crowd of people. A young supermarket employee was talking to the police. "I was just, was just throwing produce into the dumpster, that's all. I mean, I just saw her and I didn't think of it and I had to look, look again, and it was disgusting! It was worse than the shit in the dumpsters when we clean out the produce. I didn't know...I didn't know what to do..." A police man put his hand on Mulder's chest. "Step back, Sir," but Mulder flashed his badge and stepped through. The police officer looked to his partner. "Sheesh, the fuckin' Feds are here for *this*?" Another officer with a pad approached Mulder. "A Federal Agent, 'eh? She must be somethin' 'portant. The kid over there found her this mornin', 'bout an hour ago. No wallet, no descript markings, just the blood and bruises. She's got a, uh, a holster on her, but there isn't a gun there. It's pretty obvious what happened, and all, but, uh, we..." Mulder leaned forward as the officer rambled. "Scully," he whispered under his breath. Revealed by the paramedics under the cardboard was Scully's battered body. her clothing was torn to hell, and the blood's stench was overwhelming. Scully was pale, so pale. There wasn't a sign of life in her, but the paramedics started an IV. "She was..." Mulder began. "Yep, she was raped. We're guessing ten to twelve hours ago. There's a bag of groceries right there, like five feet away. We're thinkin' she was shoppin' and left the store and someone got to her right after. Hey, you said something about skulls?" Mulder was in disbelief. He stepped away from the officer and grabbed Scully's hand as the paramedics lifted her and brought her towards the awaiting ambulance. He had no idea she was so...*vulnerable*. She was his invincible Scully. She'd come over more than ever needed to in a lifetime. But what of this? Will she ever be invincible again? His dependable heroine? Mulder climbed into the ambulance, flashing his badge to the medics, and yelling behind him, "Dana *Scully*!" to the officer with the pad. // It was a grim, dark day after Mulder's morning greeting with Scully. They took her into a room, for stitches and to be cleaned up and examined. Mulder waited outside, slumped far into a chair in the hallway outside the room. He could hear the doctors periodically through the wall. "Multiple...semen...blood...must have...poor girl...I think we should," said a male doctor. "Doctor, take a look at...At least four samples here, Sir...okay...guy ...waiting outside," said a nurse. The female nurse opened the door. "You can come in now, Sir." She held the door for Mulder as Skinner came down the hall, his long coat fanning out as he hurried to the door. "What happened?" Skinner said as he walked into the room, last of the three. "I am Doctor Bergan. May I ask who you two are?" the doctor introduced impatiently. "Skinner, FBI, and Agent Mulder," Skinner said, pointing to the gloomy man beside him. "Well, excuse me," Dr. Bergan said. "Well, this woman, Dana, is stable and doing fine right now." Mulder's eyes glanced around the room. He began to bite his nails. "It's, uh, apparent to us that there were at least four men that raped this lady. We have four good specimens...can be traced to help you find out what happened here. She's going to have to recover from a lot, though. There are nail marks all over her hands and arms. It's obvious that this was not one guy horny and hammered. It like she was held down, maybe with rope or manpower. There are cuts all over her knee, and it's seriously bruised. We've wrapped it up but it just looks like it was sustaining a lot of weight. "Otherwise though, folks, she's gonna pull through. When she gets up we have an arrangement for her to meet with psyche before she leaves the hospital." Skinner and Mulder turned their eyes from the injured Scully to the doctor. "Anything you'd like to ask?" Bergan said. "No," said Skinner. He glanced as Mulder who shook his head. Skinner headed toward the door with the doctor. "Mulder, see you tomorrow at eight AM." Mulder nodded and the doctor addressed him. "When she wakes up, we'll have psyche see her, and if she seems to be doing substantially well, we'll discharge her soon after," Bergan said. "Either of you can pick her up when we call?" Mulder nodded and stepped closer to Scully, and the doctor directed his information to Skinner. "She'll need a week or two to recuperate. She's doing fine, it's more the mental damage that will get to her. I suggest therapy as soon as she's up for it." Skinner and Dr. Bergan left the room, and Mulder took a seat beside Scully, rubbing his face and then nibbling on his nails again. "Oh Scully," he muttered. She took a deep breath but did not move. Mulder laid his head down on her bed, and stroked her long, pale arm, stretched out beside her, zigzagging along some bandaged wounds. "Scully..." // Scully was sitting at the breakfast table. Waffles. She could sense the waffles in front of her, smelling them, seeing them, hearing the sizzle from more waffles being made. She was sitting at the breakfast table, but no one was cooking the other waffles. Syrup was dotted over her waffle, a slab of margarine in the center. There were fruit chunks around the sides of the waffle. It looked tasty, it smelled delicious. There was a knife and fork on top of a napkin beside the white plate. How they smelled though. It smelled like vanilla, sweet oils, but Scully was raptured by the food. She felt thin and weak and stiff. Scully reached forward for the waffle, but she could not move. Her arms lay together in her lap. When she looked to see them, blood flowed down her arms, and once she looked at her waffle before her, blackness ensued, with the face of the man that had been on top of her. She could hear the turning over the table, the crash of the plate to the floor, but all she could see was the face, the closed eyes, the open mouth, tight with the busywork of his hungry hands, eating her alive, sipping her blood, her innocence. // The sight that sat before her was familiar. The blank, white walls of a hospital room, a television in the corner, a closed window on the right. Scully sat straight up in her bed, panting, pooling in her sweat. There were bloody bandages on her arms. At first she was confused of her state, but a pain shot up through her, from between her legs, and she fell back to the hospital bed. Scully lifted her hands to her face, and rubbed her temples, then dried her tearing eyes. What a dream. What a nightmare. This is the first she'd been awake to really think about it. She suddenly felt lonely, the room seemed to feel darker. Mulder emerged from a chair in the corner, and hurried to take Scully's hands in his. She moved her head toward him as he leaned over her. He took one of his hands and pulled it through her crusty hair and kissed her forehead. "Scully," he whispered. "Mulder," she said as she pursed her lips, and clenched her eyes. It hurt to lean towards him, her hips, side to side, and her arms where aching, but she sat up and threw herself into his arms as much as she could, and Mulder pulled her close as she began to silently weep for her loss. Innocence. Vulnerability. Safety. Strength. Bravery. Someone had reached into her and pulled her best qualities out of her. At that moment, she felt she couldn't get into Mulder's strong arms enough. She pushed herself into him, wrapped in his arms, for a physical longing, but also for the protection she couldn't make for herself. He had to give her back her strength. She had to heal her wounds, he had to heal her heart. // She said she wouldn't go through with the psyche consult without Mulder in the room. He didn't care to stay but didn't want to leave. After making a big deal about needing something familiar with her for the meeting, Scully didn't want to ask Mulder to leave. The psychiatrist, Dr. Liz Malcolm, asked deep, prodding questions Scully wasn't ready for, that she didn't even think someone would ask her so soon. She expected the police to ask her about the rape, to 'describe the process', to tell how she felt, how she's feeling, it ID people if she saw them. She could see the officer outside already - Mulder recognized him from the day before, when she was found. "Don't worry, Dana, a few more questions, then you can go home," Dr. Malcolm said. "Okay," Scully said. She was sitting in a wheelchair, in a small, virtually empty spare hospital room. "How are you feeling now, Dana?" Scully hesitated. "Not very safe." "Will you feel safe at home, do you think?" "With a deadbolt." "Do you feel angry at all?" "Not dangerously so." Mulder watched her from the other side of the room. He felt her answers as stabs at him. She can depend on him, she should know that. He wasn't just her work partner, not anymore. He would go as far to say close, personal friend. He's there, isn't he? "Some women want revenge, Dana. Do you feel empowered by your career to 'solve this problem'?" Dr. Malcolm asked. Scully couldn't take it seriously. She couldn't handle the questions. "No." "Can you tell me what happened? As far as you remember?" Scully was now frustrated, and saddened. She hadn't replayed the issue in her mind, so she thought she might reverse some details, maybe not be clear. She wanted to break down crying then. She was hit in the one stop that she would never expect, not with all her training. Being a woman, this is what made her unsafe. She was strong and intelligent, witty and trained, and had a strong, brave heart. But still, the arrow struck her where she least expected to be hit, where no matter how powerful she was she couldn't not be protected enough. "I was leaving the store. It was around closing time..." "What store?" "Grocery," Scully replied. "I was walking to my car, when some men sprang out behind a large van...it was too dark to tell anything about the van. And I went about my business but they followed. When I got to my car I put the groceries on the trunk then turned with my hand on my gun. I was full alert, but they seemed to be gone. Then two of them...on either side...came towards me full force. Like in football...like a tackle. They dragged me to the side of the building, and there wasn't any light there really. They...you know, they..." Mulder looked on, his eyes sloping in sadness, in regret. "Two of them...but Dr. Bergan and a nurse..." Scully broke down then. She rubbed her eyes and looked away. She no longer looked like the wounded heroine, but the victim. "But they said there were more." "Okay, Dana, that's enough. The police will probably talk to you later, ask about the same things I did, and they will keep you informed of their progress. You can come back here to see me any time," Dr. Malcolm said, handing Scully a business card, then another. "Here is a therapist. You will recover Dana. You seem to be handling this as best as can be expected. Very brave woman, you are, you will overcome this." Dr. Malcolm looked to Mulder and said good bye to both of them as she left. Mulder bit his nails. // Mulder got out of his black car in his blue jeans and white tee shirt and the glare of the afternoon sun on his sunglasses. After the consult, the doctors decided to check on her one more time, then discharge her. Mulder went home and took a shower and switched clothes. He gave the office a call to say he would be in when he had a partner to work with, and the Bureau gave him a week, for Scully's sake, really. Mulder was waiting by the car, leaning on it. The hospital said hurry back by three to pick her up, and he was there promptly. A nurse walked by the door to see who was there, then went to retrieve Scully from her room. A few minutes after Mulder saw the nurse by the door, she returned, pushing Scully in a wheelchair through the doors and down the sidewalk to the car. Mulder opened the door and held out his hand for Scully. She touched his hand but didn't grab it. "I'm fine," she said, as she climbed into the passenger seat. Mulder closed the door after her, then went to the driver's side. He sat at the wheel for a moment, then looked to Scully, his sunglasses and keys in his hands. Scully met his eyes. "I want ice cream," he said. Scully waited, then smiled. "Okay Mulder," she said. He smiled and drove to an ice cream drive through. He purchased two cones. "Where now, Captain?" he asked. Scully only wanted to go home. She wanted to desperately to take a bath, but she didn't feel like making the effort. Mulder took her to her home, and stood close to her as she climbed the stairs. He unlocked he door for her. She walked in and headed to the bathroom. Mulder took a seat in he living room, turning on the TV, but watching the door Scully went through. She leaned on the counter with her hands, then closed her eyes for a moment. She opened them and washed her face. She combed through her hair. Some dried blood crisps fell to the floor. Scully went to the toilet and sat adown to use it. She tensed up as she relieved herself. It was like putting antiseptic on a scrape to her. Scully went to her room and put on the jog pants and sweatshirt she'd been sleeping in before and threw the hospital clothes on the floor. Scully went to the door of her room, and stared at Mulder. He was watching an old TV show, but met her eyes when he felt them staring at him. He stood and approached her. He put his hands on her arms, putting a bit of grip on her but making sure to avoid areas where there were bandages. "Can I get you anything, Scully?" She gave Mulder a half smile, and shook her head. "Thanks for staying with me. You can go home. I'm fine," she said. She smiled but her eyes were too red. Mulder couldn't take that. He reached in to hug her, and brought her close. He rubbed her head lightly. "Why don't you rest? I'll be right here," he said. He leaned against the wall. She walked to her room, closing the door behind her, then Mulder went back to the living room. He turned the volume down on his TV show and sat down. // Scully slept for a few hours. It was seven when Mulder decided to get dinner. He waited until the clock on Scully's VCR changed to seven-o-one, then went to Scully's room. He tapped lightly on the door and let himself in. He figured Scully would be sleeping, but she was sitting up in her bed, reading glasses on, reading a book. All the lights and lamps in the room were on. "Do you want something to eat?" Mulder asked. "I can go pick up whatever you want." Scully took her glasses off. "Whatever you want to get, it's fine with me, thanks," she said. "All right," Mulder agreed. "I'll be back in like thirty...unless you want to come?" "I think I'll take a bath. I'll see you when you get back," she said. "'K, Scully," said Mulder. He closed the door and left. It's amazing how, under different circumstances, a bath can be so simple. Scully dumped salts and bubbles into the running water. She had never felt so dirty in her life. She felt evil, bad, and unclean. She felt like scrubbing some of her skin off. Scully put on her bathrobe and stuck her hand into the water beneath the growing mound of bubbles. What if now she was dirty? What if one of them had a sexually transmitted disease? They hurt her so much. What if she died from them? She wanted to see the book at them. She wanted to throw the book at them herself, but then she remembered what she and Dr. Malcolm had talked about at the psyche consult that morning. The water began to burn Scully's hand. She turned off the hot water and turned the cold on, but decided she didn't felt like being naked in her house alone. She regretfully drained the tub, watched the water go down the drain, then went to her bedroom. Once there, she made sure the windows were locked tight, that there was no way they could open it. She drew the curtains over the window, then checked all the windows in the rest of the building. She put on all the locks over her door. She shivered in her warm bathrobe, then sat on a stool at the counter. When did Mulder say he would be back? Oh, it'd only been not even ten minutes ago since he'd left... Scully didn't know what to do now. The silence was driving her crazy. She decided to call and cancel her credit cards, since she didn't have a clue where her purse, her car, her keys, her cell phone, nor her gun were. She decided to go about the business of recovery. If only Mulder were there. She wanted to go with him, looking back at it. Why on earth would someone like her stay home alone after such an event? But she was dirty, she was sick. She was a victim now. It happened to me, she thought. Scully turned on some music to make the silence go away. Coming from the store had been so cold and so quiet. 'Don't forget the details,' Dr. Malcolm had mentioned to her. 'The police will want to hear everything you remember.' Thanks to Dr. Malcolm for the reassurance, Scully thought. She focused on the music, and eventually twenty minutes had sailed through the storm of the homey abode now eerie. The knock at the door almost scared Scully. It was Mulder, she *knew*, but it did not matter. It was someone. At least it wasn't, well, anybody else. Scully looked through the peephole to see a large mass of black. Scully stepped back, then peered through the peep hole again to see Mulder's forehead, pushed right up against the door. She shook her head and undid the locks except for the keyhole. She waited for Mulder to put his key in lock. It was a final step toward making sure it was him, just him. Mulder put his key in the lock, then entered. "Hey, Scully," he said, closing the door behind him. "I almost broke out the battering ram." "Sorry, Mulder," Scully said. "What did you get?" Mulder laid some boxes of Chinese food on the counter. "Is that okay?" he asked. Scully nodded. "Hey, I thought you said you were going to take a bath?" Mulder questioned. Scully gave a half smile again. One side of her mouth was her usual grin, the other was breaking into despair. Mulder reached forward and hugged her. "I couldn't...not alone," she said. "Oh," he said. "Okay. Well, you go into the other room and fill the tub up, and I'll wait right there, right outside the door." Scully pulled away and nodded. "Okay," she said, then walked to the bathroom and started to refill the tub. "Shouldn't have left without her," Mulder cursed to himself. He rubbed his head, then took a pillow from the living room. He set it on the floor outside the bathroom, then leaned against the door. Scully, on the other side, filled the tub up again. She stripped of her bathrobe then sat in the water pooling on the floor of the tub. She dumped in more bubbles, to cover up her battered body. She avoided the mirrors, but it was hard to distract her eyes from looking down, from being able to see every scar and bruise and scratch. She removed her bloodied bandages and threw them in the wastebasket near the tub. She moved gently through the water, eventually turning off the nozzle, then taking a bath poof and pouring liquid soap onto it. Scully gently rubbed up and down her arm. Usually she would scrub, and now, more than ever, she wanted to, to cleanse herself, to be free, but she couldn't bring herself yet to touch those areas where hands and touched. And, especially where she had been broken the most, she did not even go about scrubbing her thighs. She went about the outsides of them, then down to her knees, but while she looked away she cleaned only what she could sustain. If she looked down, to see what had become of her strength, she knew she would truly bear witness of defeat, see the shattered bits of herself. // Scully wanted to cry in the bathroom, but not with Mulder outside the door. She already knew she was definitely weaker now, even more so than she had ever been before, but she didn't need to admit it, so he knew it. Scully stepped out of the tub very carefully, keeping her legs as close together as possible. She dried off and put her bathrobe back on. She put on a fresh pair of underwear and new jog pants. She slipped into a college tee shirt and combed her hair. And, maybe more for Mulder's sake, put on some damn makeup. Scully emerged from the bathroom. Mulder was spread on the floor outside the door. "Feel fresher, princess?" he said. Scully nodded. Mulder stood. "After you," he said, leading her toward the kitchen with the cold Chinese on the counter. // Mulder did the best he could to move the overstuffed one-seater into Scully's bedroom. Scully cleaned the kitchen and made sure the windows and door were locked tight. Mulder pushed the chair to the corner of Scully's room, then waited for her to climb into bed. She didn't look any different now. Of course, the wounds, the evidence, the terror, were staining her body, but she was still his Scully, the same professional partner of their so many years. She looked safe, and comfortable. The bath had almost cured her ill-mannerisms. The teary eyes, the crusty hair. She looked...remarkab le. She felt...horrible. She felt disrespected - then, and also now. She needed Mulder at the foot of her bed. She'd asked him to stay there. He could have been right there in bed next to her, just as long as someone else was there. To save her, to fix her, to do her right instead of wrong. But Mulder had pushed the huge chair into her room. Scully gave him a blanket and a pillow off her bed. She turned out the light and relaxed as much as possible into her bed. "Good night, Mulder." "Hmmhmm," came the response. // If there was a certain way to go about the healing process, Scully didn't think this was it. Mulder slept in the chair for two nights after the first. Then he moved to the living room. One night Scully was sure that he had been sleeping in the living room, but when she awoke, knew he was not there. He'd left a note, saying he stopped by their office, not to worry, call if necessary. He was more patient about her growing back into her safe mode than she was. She felt disastrous. If Scully didn't feel bad about the whole thing, she felt worse for feeling so bad. Pull yourself together, she thought - thought in vain. Mulder, on the other hand, thought Scully was more valiant than anyone else would be in the situation. He left more often. A week after the ordeal, he pretended to sleep then slipped out afterward to return to his home. He fed his fish, did some minor case report work, then went to work, calling in every hour or two to see how Scully was. Every day was a development. Knowing Scully had slept without Mulder somewhere in her house was a miracle. She hadn't known she was making triumphs, but she was. Her car was returned, as well as her wallet (though it was devoid of money and some pictures and credit cards and things). It was like it never happened. Scully went to sessions with a therapist only twice. None of the whole business appealed to her. She still locked her door more than she ever had before. She still kept her windows locked and covered. Her fortress was coming down some, her wounds were healing, her heart was beating again. She had withstood these tests of her of her body, of her character, and even Mulder's character. She had proved to herself that she would be all right in the end, that she can pull through, that she is not your average woman. Finally. Mulder came straight to Scully's place after work. It was a week and a few days since the rape, and Scully was planning on returning to work tomorrow. Even though she had physically healed in most areas, she still had the mentality of it all. She checked behind her after every noise, she didn't casually round corners without being suspicious, and she never was alone, unless in her home, anymore. Scully hadn't gone outside at night yet, and she knew that would be the worst part. Scully undid all the locks at five-o-clock, knowing that Mulder would still be coming by her place after he completed his one-manned assignments. Work was lenient on the two, but Scully could imagine the workload she would probably have upon her return. Mulder was much later than usual, and Scully had relocked the door, the chain and deadbolt and all. Mulder eventually did arrive at 5:40, and stuck his key into the lock, surprised to find he could not open the door. "Scully?" he called with a nervous tinge. But she opened the door with a smile, and then a gaping mouth. "Oh, Mulder," she said. He was decked out in his finer clothes. A bottle of champagne in one hand, a bag of groceries in the other. "To celebrate," he said with a smile, "the return of the bravest to the scariest job." He walked in and Scully closed the door behind him. He started the oven and popped open the champagne bottle. Scully was beside herself. "Mulder..." she trailed. He smiled. He held his hands out to Scully. She put hers flat against his palms. Mulder moved his left arm behind her back, and did a tango sort of move, then twirled her, ever so slowly, so gently. "Congratulations, then," he said. He held her in that position - his hand on her lower back...as always...his other hand grasping her frail one, his face near hers, his breath on her face...sweet and warm. She smiled, and thanked him, and he released her, turned to the kitchen to prepare his victory dinner for the victor. Scully leaned over the counter as Mulder prepared the small meal. A bag of salad, and just two steaks. Scully put on some music, then some rice on the stove and potatoes in the oven. Small ones, she said, so they wouldn't take as long to cook. Scully put on some soft music, then took a seat on the stool beside the stove. As the dinner simmered, Mulder took the seat beside her. "I'm proud of you, you know," he said. Scully looked at him, just for a moment, and she acknowledged him with that tacit bond. Her eyes told him she thanked him, she needed him, she appreciated him. More as a friend now than ever before. She nodded her head to once side, flashed a smile. Mulder went about the business of succumbing. He leaned in, a million questions flying through his head. He wanted to kiss her. Wanted to respond to the throbbing beat of his heart, the desire in his dreams, the heat of his body...now her body. It's not as though neither hadn't expected it to ever happen. Scully accepted this piece of affection, but Mulder was offering it more as a search for an answer. He was more nervous about it than excited. He wanted to know...how she would react, how would she feel about it, about him, and especially now. He only wanted to know. She was taken by surprise. And she liked it. There was a spark of something lively in Scully's chest. A moment never captured by her mind ever before. She felt tingly and warm as he pulled away from her. Longing. He looked at her for a moment, just take a step back and see the reaction he deserved from her. And she smiled, and he forced himself forward again. The first move was one of asking for permission, for an answer to a question grown throughout the years. The second was for his pleasure, for her pleasure, and to make those hungry men out there starve a little more. Scully had succeeded. Mulder could not stop on this playing field. Once he let himself go he could not bring himself back. He placed his lips on Scully's numerous times, before spreading his attraction to her cheek, her forehead, the tip of her nose, to her ear. His lips were driving themselves over her, and she accepted this, needed this. Eventually Mulder found his way back to her lips, and locked them there in a long, effortless bliss. Scully stopped the moment, and kissed his forehead. She pulled her fingers through his hair and stood. "Mulder, what are we doing?" She didn't say it, she didn't need to. He knew that. He knew he shouldn't have, but he couldn't have gone on without trying. He smiled and leaned forward for a long hug, then broke apart to finish their honorary dinner. This is the way that Scully took to recovery. She felt a tingly feeling all over her body, even into the sore parts that were not ready for such mammoth emotion. But Scully had advanced. She had grown. She was ready for anything now. She was back to being the partner Mulder needed, back to being the tiny beauty that was always there, except for once, except for the moment that her world crumbled. But thank God for the glue of Mulder's deep heart, the one that kept the both of them going. The one that healed Scully, the one that is attached to her now, like never before. And eventually it will be Scully. One day it will be her that will rescue him. Even if Mulder is never in danger, Scully will save him, she will finish taking over his heart, conquer it, and be the loving bond that will repair it, into one heart. Each are familiar to the other. They are deserving of each other. Scully's newfound strength has yet to falter. Mulder's smile has yet to fade. //