Resilience
Mulder/Scully pairing. Episode based.
AN: Follows the episode Orison in season 7. Scully is attacked in her home by Donnie Pfaster and shoots him at the end. The first line of the fic is the last line of the episode.
"I mean, what if it wasn't?" Scully asked, her eyes flickering briefly from the bed up to meet his.
Mulder hesitated and he found himself staring at the wall where a mirror used to hang. He didn't have an answer for her, he doubted he ever would no matter how long he had to prepare for the question. He glimpsed fleetingly at her trying to think of what he could say but nothing came to mind. She was staring at her dresser with the upturned lamp and shards of pottery that used to be trinkets sitting on her bookshelf, her hands folded loosely in her lap. Her face and neck was beginning to bruise, the cut on her lip had ceased to bleed and the blood on her upper lip and nose a memory. He sank onto the bed next to her and had to fight the urge to put his arm around her shoulders and draw her to him.
He remembered some of the cases he'd worked on during his time in the violent crimes department. Vivid recollections of women mostly who had been abused, who flinched at the slightest sudden unexpected movement as if expecting everyone to do to them as the criminal had done. Putting his arm around Scully right now might not comfort her plus she hadn't changed clothes. For all he knew there could still be fragments of glass from the mirror that lay scattered over the floor embedded in her shirt. For now he sat beside her listening absently to the bustle he could hear just outside her bedroom door.
He'd been yelling at Pfaster to put his hands up to check for weapons when she'd entered her living room, blood on her face, strips of cloth hanging from her left hand and around her neck, walking as if in a trance. She'd looked Pfaster dead in the eye while he yelled her name trying to get her attention, snap her out of her trance, stop her from doing what he guessed would happen. The light blew out behind him sending a shower of sparks raining down as he heard the gunshot crack through the room. As if she'd suddenly woken from a dream she stared at the gun in shock, then straight into Mulder's eyes as Donnie Pfaster hit the floor hard.
He immediately bent over to Pfaster to check for a pulse knowing he wouldn't find one. As he crouched down he heard Scully turn away, placing her weapon on the coffee table and sinking into the couch.
It hadn't taken long for the FBI, police and paramedics to arrive where they questioned Scully and himself and while Pfaster's body was removed he watched as the paramedics tried to convince Scully to go to the hospital. He could hear her informing them in a deadpan tone that she was a doctor and she was not in need of medical attention and he missed the questions being directed at him by those now investigating Pfaster's death. He watched as Scully stood and walked away from the paramedics packing up their kits, into her bathroom, closing the door firmly behind her. Mulder focused his attention on the Agent asking him questions keeping an eye out on the closed bathroom door.
The moment he'd seen her exit he'd excused himself to check to make sure she was ok. Walking into her room he decided on the spot that he was not leaving without her. The room was turned upside down, glass and splinters of wood crackling under his shoes as he stepped inside, the bookcase with all it's contents scattered over her dresser, the smashed lamp, the occasional sight of blood juxtaposing against the solid colours of the walls and grey blue carpet.
A conversation along the lines of 'it's not your fault, don't blame yourself' followed. He was amazed at her courage to fight Pfaster back and wanted to blurt out that there was no need to feel guilt for a man who would have left her for dead without a second thought.
He cast a sideways glance at Scully. Her beautiful face usually reflecting mirth or disbelief at one of this theories, or deadly serious calm as she proved to him the scientific theory, now only showed numb shock. Staring blankly ahead she didn't notice his glance turning into an absent minded stare. He jumped up when a small knock on the bedroom door startled himself and Scully, and quickly stepped in front of her to answer the door first. Stepping outside he explained to the Agent that he would be taking Scully somewhere else for the night and if they had any further questions to contact him on his cell. He stuck his head inside her bedroom long enough to ask her to pack some things for a few days and only closed the door when she opened a drawer to remove clothes. Grabbing his cell which had been in silent mode he called Skinner back to let him know where Scully would be.
It wasn't a long drive from her apartment to his but she didn't say a word from the time he opened the bedroom door to find her dressed in slacks and a sweater holding a small bag, until he had to wake her up once they reached his apartment. She flinched slightly when he called her name to wake her and after a fleeting look of panic passing through her eyes she climbed out of the car and followed him to his apartment. Once inside he retrieved the bag of clothing she had brought with her from her hand and as she took a seat on his couch he slipped into his room, laying the bag on the bed and checking the room was clean.
When he returned she was leaning back on the couch, her eyes closed. He had been heading to bed when he'd decided to head over to her place and she had been in her pajamas when he arrived there. It was late and he was tired; He was sure she was exhausted.
"I put your bag in the bedroom," remarked Mulder. "Don't worry, it's clean," he joked.
Scully opened one eye to peer at him. "What about you?"
"I'll sleep in my usual bed," he said as he cocked his head towards the couch, smiling when her lips turned up in the ghost of a grin.
Slowly she stood up and began to walk towards the bedroom. "Thank you," she whispered laying one hand on his arm as she passed him.
Mulder turned the tv on leaving the volume so quiet he could barely hear it and when Scully had finished in the bathroom he quickly exchanged his jeans for something a little more comfortable, brushed his teeth again, and peeked in on Scully before heading for his couch. She had left the bedroom door open just enough for him to see her curled up on one side facing away from him, the blankets cocooning her so all he could see was her hair sticking out against the white pillow.
Using only the light from the tv Mulder pulled the pillow from the side of the couch where he'd left it that morning, yanked the blanket off the top of the couch and felt himself drifting off right away.
He was swimming, or attempting to, through a substance that was gel like in consistency. There were people waiting for him at the surface and he could not make out their faces yet he knew who they were. Samantha was leaning towards him, her hand outstretched to help pull him to the surface while Cigarette Smoking Man lurked over her shoulder. He made one last desperate attempt to grasp Samantha's hand as she screamed his name.
Before his eyes were even open he was on his feet grasping for his gun which he knew was on the coffee table. His heart pounding and his feet tangled in the blankets he ran his hand over his face and through his hair as though trying to wipe the dream away from his mind. About to sit down he heard his name being called in a quiet yet panicked voice. Dashing across the living room pausing only to turn on a lamp, he looked in on Scully and realised he wasn't the only one being afflicted with nightmares.
Her feet were tangled in the blankets which stopped around her waist, her head almost hanging off the side of the bed until she moved suddenly in the opposite direction. He moved towards her calling her name softly as he moved the blankets to the end of the bed freeing her legs.
"Scully?" He called slightly louder gently placing a hand on her upper arm.
Her eyes flew open and she started before recognition flooded her eyes. She didn't say anything but he climbed onto the bed as tears spilled over and he pulled her to him so she was cradled in his arms. She turned her face into his t-shirt and he held her as the sobs shook her body.
He stayed there with Scully in his arms for some time after her shaking had subsided and tried to ignore his knee complaining of the awkward position, gently running his fingers through her hair. When he couldn't ignore it any longer he relinquished his hold on her and lay her back on the bed stretching out his one leg as he stood. Her eyes fluttered for a moment as he reached down to pull the blankets over her but before he could a hand grasped his gently. He looked down to find her eyes open staring at him. He spoke her name softly and as a question and by the poor light from the lamp shining in the room he saw her nod slightly.
He turned off the lamp and after covering her with the blankets he moved to the other side of the bed, lying down by her side. She moved her head so he could slip his arm underneath and he placed his other arm over her waist. He could feel her falling back asleep and placed a chaste kiss on her temple before settling down to fall asleep.
He woke just as the day began to dawn casting a little light into the darkened room. He still lay on his left side yet Scully had moved during the night and now she was facing him, her hand on his chest and his arm still around her waist. He reached up to tease a strand of hair from off her face to behind her ear wondering if he should get up and go back to the couch. What would she say or how would she react when she woke up? He almost smiled as he remembered how she reacted when he had kissed her on New Years. She'd kissed him back, smiled, and had not mentioned it to him again. He forced that thought out of his mind. He was here to comfort her after she'd been attacked in her own home, not start thinking of kissing her. With a sigh of contentment he closed his eyes against the beginning of the day hoping that she wouldn't wake early.
AN: As always thoughts, comments etc are appreciated.