So this story basically highlights the what if's behind Mulder and Scully.

I don't exactly know how to describe myself really, outgoing, determined... but – I suppose that is all of the good – the bad – well... I'm easily lead, afraid to seek past the obvious and I am blind to the truth which is set in front of my own two eyes. You see; my ex-husband Ethan he was a great man – a hopeless romantic with the only intention to please, he swept me off my feet; things changed though. The thing is we were only 19 years old when we met, didn't think it would turn into something more so we dated over the summer and well -we fell in love, it was something more then a summer romance; it flourished into a beautiful flower, growing ever beautiful day by day. We had been dating nearly six months when he proposed the first time – I said no, I was too young, I had my whole life ahead of me and I was afraid to commit myself, but it didn't stop there though. A month later he asked me again – I said no. Again; yet again it didn't stop there. I was at home studying for an exam coming up for medical school when I get this knock on the door; I opened it to reveal a truck full of flowers being delivered by Ethan. Not again. As my presumptions were correct he proposed for the third time, I again said no. Finally I agreed to come to an arrangement: Once I finished medical school we could then marry, my mind needed to be focused on one thing and one thing only, but that never is the case, is it?

Two months after the arrangement I found out that I was pregnant. At first when I found out, I was scared. Not scared for the pain or the nine months of pregnancy. No. More scared about the fact my life would be turned upside down, Ethan's life, his business. I couldn't get caught up with a pregnancy I was only nineteen, although; I didn't want to abort it either, I was situated at a cross road. I had to choose a path. A path which would determine the rest of my life, either abort the baby and live with my conscience for the rest of my life, keep the baby and struggle though medical school or – keep the baby and drop out of medical school all together. I spent tons of tears and time debating which choice to make; weighing out the pro's and con's of each decision. I finally made my choice. I chose to keep the baby and carry on though medical school the other giant hurdle to try and concur were my parents. Being still young and very Catholic, I had a choice, pack my bags and leave my parents forever or marry Ethan, and so a month later we were wed, a small wedding with my parents and Ethan's parent, nothing too fancy, it couldn't be, we had hardly any money to spend but at least we had each other with a baby on the way.

With medical school I worked right up until I was ready to pop, but; the baby never seemed come. Two weeks after my due date I still hadn't given birth. I was at home in bed when I started to bleed everywhere, studying as a medical doctor I knew that bleeding whilst pregnant wasn't a very good sign. I got rushed instantly into hospital and there they told me that my placenta had ruptured causing a massive bleed and that – if the baby survived, the chances of it being brain damaged were severe. That night I had a C section and at 21:47 on the 23rd November 1993 my daughter Emily was born although she was severely anaemic and was underweight it was a miracle she wasn't brain damaged as far as the doctors could tell. However; as a consequence from the operation and the ruptured placenta they had to remove one of my ovaries, reducing the chances of conceiving a child again and that the scar tissue on my existing ovary could reduce the chances of conception of up to 75%. Although it seemed everything was fine and dandy it really wasn't, after the day Emily was born, Ethan always seemed to treat me differently, a piece of gun which stuck to the bottom of your shoe but you could not merely wipe it off on the grass so you have to get a stick and try and scrape it off. I still loved him but I was blind to the truth, now that he had a daughter, he didn't need me, he was bored of me. Blind and dumbfounded to love I couldn't see past, get past. I couldn't fight past.

I don't think you really ever forget the first time that your partner (in my case husband) starts hitting you. It must have been three or four months after Emily was born and I was tired, a walking zombie on the night shift of baby patrol after being at medical school from 9-5. Emily awoke screaming during the night, and as usual I got up to try and settle her down again. I was all out of steam, I was a terrified – just turned twenty year old – I didn't know the first thing about being a good mom, I was alone with it most of the time, I just couldn't cope any longer. I had not had a proper night sleep since I had brought Emily home from the hospital; I was in auto pilot most of the time. Emily was screaming the apartment down and I just couldn't calm her down, she just kept screaming, no matter if I tried to give her milk or change her nappy, nothing seemed to calm her down. I collapsed on the floor in a blubbering heap, I couldn't do it anymore and then Ethan stormed in with a rage upon his face, Emily screaming in her cot and me – a crumbled heap on the floor crying to myself. He screamed at me and without any thinking I screamed back. Big mistake! He grabbed my hair and pulled me to my feet, my eyes hollow balls of sunken malice. I cried, I begged him to stop. SMACK Straight across the left eye. I did nothing but crumble to the floor once again crying harder then before. Ethan then casually walked over to Emily's cot and picked her up; at that instant she stopped crying. What a mother I am I woefully thought to myself.

I suppose not everything was bad, he didn't hit me too often, just when I spoke to him rudely and didn't do as he asked but I suppose it was a way to keep me in shape, remind me of my manners. I knew that deep down it was bad; you hear about domestic violence on the telly and that you never think it would happen to you, or; if it did you would get up and walk out on him. I couldn't. I couldn't leave because he would want custody of Emily, I couldn't leave Emily so vulnerable at his violent hands. I just couldn't.

Ethan, from the age of 18 owned his own law firm business, he was smart, real smart and the world seemed to wait at his beck and call. Only, when we both turned 25 and Emily was 6 his business hit financial crisis and went completely bankrupt, he blamed me constantly, hitting and abusing like he never had before. I'd never forget the night that I finally put my foot down and made the decision to leave him and take Emily with me. It was on 1st December 1999.

"Dana, get me another beer!" I heard Ethan scream from the armchair in the living room now moulded to the shape of his grotesque body. I was losing the will to live, he was like a leech sucking the life out of me, the only reason I was still here was Emily, who knew how she would react to divorce, who would get custody? Sure she was a strong willed kid and Ethan promised that he would never lay a finger on her but after all that the love between us was now gone, bruises all that remain behind a broken heart.

"Get it yourself!" I yell back to him from Emily's bedroom as I tuck her into bed. I kiss her forehead and we say our goodnights, I leave the starry night lights on beside her bed and close the door as I exit her room. Outside I am met by a fury eyed Ethan, his face red in rage and a vain is prominent on his forehead, I have seen it before and I know what is coming. He grabbed my throat and pinned me against the wall.

"You ever talk to me like that again and you'll be seeing black and blue for quite some time, go it?" He asked, spit hitting my face as he increased the clasp of his hand on my throat.

"Got it?" I manage to exhale as my windpipe began to close around itself.

"Good!" He hisses back as he begins to loosen his grip upon my now throbbing throat and then finally releasing me from his reticulated hands. I instantly lift my hands to my now bruising throat as I wraith in pain, unable to speak the saliva in my throat building as I fail to swallow. I look at him with pain and angst in my eyes and he stares back through his devilled slits at me. I can see it. I can see the anger still bottled up, and then it hit me, his fist as hard as lead jumped into my gut and I instantaneously fall to the floor in pain. Lying motionless on the floor I think to myself I have to get out of here, away from him. If I don't leave now, will I ever? It's been going on now for way too long. I want to get out of this place. I need to get out of this place. I need to take Emily away from this monster.

Well, whilst Ethan was sleeping I quietly snuck around packing my case. It wasn't too difficult because he was a really heavy sleeper and all my stuff was already folded away in a few draws. After all my essential items had been packed I went and packed Emily's things. She was really confused to the reason why she had to leave her daddy; I just told her that he didn't want us anymore. Now that I was a fully qualified doctor I had a decent income and the hospital knew that I had a child so they tried to cut the amount of night shifts that I had to work. For now though I would stay with my mom and dad, they would understand; or at least, I hope they would. So I just got in my car with Emily, and we left.

We arrived at my parent's house at four in the morning, I knew they were asleep but we needed to stay somewhere and so I rang the door bell. I saw the bedroom light turn on followed by the landing light and then the hallway light and then finally the door opened, my bewildered father answered.

"What the matter, Starbuck?" He asked me, moving out of the shadows into the light I showed him my now deep purple eye. It was swollen and I could barely see through it.

"I left him Ahab." I merely uttered, feeling the urge to break down and cry again. From down the stairs mum looked at me puzzled, I weakly smiled back.

"Dana? What happened?" She asked and she finally came to a halt at the door.

"He – he hit me." I began crying again, my eye beginning to sting as the shock of reality hit me, I had finally done it, I had left him.

"Emily. Darling; why don't you go up to your bedroom? Pappy will be up in a minute to read you a story." Mum ushered Emily inside.

"Yes Grandma." Emily replied giving mum a hug.

"Bill, go up and read a story or something to her." She insisted.

"But..."

"Buts are for sitting on, just go do it."

Dad walked upstairs escorting Emily to her bedroom and mum enveloped me with her motherly arms and I just cried.

I stayed with my parents for two weeks until I was firmly on my feet again, stronger then before. Emily and I moved into a two bedroom house in Georgetown just a short walk from the hospital and Emily's school. I had not heard from Ethan since I stormed out on him, but I had applied for divorce and I was just awaiting the papers. I was still a little distraught, shock mainly but I was becoming stronger. I thought that I wouldn't find a man I ever respected again (other then my father and brothers) until one day a man walked into my life. Well, he didn't exactly walk... he was pushed, on a gurney into the hospital, he was my patient. His name, Fox Mulder.

So? What do you think so far, this is only the introduction to Scully's life. Later chapters will include more angst and a little romance between Mulder and Scully.

Thanks for reading. Favorite or Alert. Please review to what you think.