I have decided to continue due to the outburst of reviews. Thank you all, you all made my day. Um…this chapter is short and I hope to make them a little longer, this won't be my longest story ever, but I'll try and make it decedent, if you have ideas please feel free to share, I do give credit where credit is due.
Incase I forgot to mention before this is definite AU.
Warning it gets kind of bad here, almost rape. RAPE!! NOT TOO GRAPHIC
Mulder curiously paced the basement and looked to his watch for what seemed the hundredth time that morning. Today was the day Scully was to return to work after returning from her honeymoon yesterday and he wanted to know how she was doing. He hadn't seen her since the night of the wedding and the greater part of him missed her and was subconsciously worried about her.
Though the X-Files had been shut down not long ago the basement was still open to them and this is where they met every morning. He sat back in his chair that rested across from his old desk thinking maybe she was getting coffee and relaxed when all of a sudden the sound of the elevator doors opening and footsteps heading in a hurried motion grabbed his attention.
"Morning." She said briskly handing him a cup of coffee. "Sorry I'm late."
"It's ok." He said happy she was back in his sights once more. "Long night?" He joked, noticing a small hint of dark circles under one of her eyes. The idea that it was only under one of her eyes was brushed aside as the idea of another man touching her made him sick.
"You could say that." She said forcing a smile softly taking his hand and leading him out of the basement and to the real world where other agents roamed about the hustle and bustle of the world dealing with violent crimes, terrorist plots, suicides, kidnappings and everything else having to do with the normal.
Scully took a seat at her desk and smiled over at Mulder next to her as he worked the phone at his side. Background checks. This was there duty, they were to like it, or lump it. Nobody ever really knew what it meant, Scully's mother had been saying that for years and not even she knew what it meant. The best interpretation was like it or get out.
"So Scully…" Mulder started out, but stopped mid sentence in confusion, she looked over to him just as confused as he was.
"What's wrong Mulder?" She asked curiously.
"Is that ok?" He said unsure. "Me calling you Scully or do you preferred to be called Mrs. Jaredson? Or just Jaredson?"
"Scully, Mulder. Please just call me Scully." When she said it, it was as if she was begging with him to call her by her maiden name. Pleading with him to never refer to her as Jaredson anything ever again.
It had to be the way her eyes glistened when she asked that made him question, or perhaps it was a mental understanding they had unknowingly developed long ago. Whatever the reason was, he sat forward in his chair, hung up his 'busy tone' phone and asked her a serious question.
"Scully? Is everything ok at home? With Jason?" The second the words left his mouth she had been reaching for her cup of coffee and when his name had been spoken her hand had moved in a violent jerk, spilling the coffee all over the paperwork that cluttered her desk and onto the floor.
In a heartbeat Mulder was at her side helping her clean up the mess that had been made. The question that had been asked not seconds before long out of the minds of the both of them, for now, but the reaction would soon have them both thinking.
The rest of the day was uneventful, Mulder took Scully out to lunch and the spent the rest of their day doing background checks on the American population.
Later that night as Scully opened the door to her apartment, her heart pounded loudly in her chest. She silently prayed Jason wasn't home, that he was out at one of his strip clubs getting drunk. But as fate and luck would have it he sat on the couch with a beer bottle in his hand.
"You're late." He said as she closed the door and entered the small apartment. She let out a low and shaky breath, praying that with each and every pump of her heart another breath was promised.
"I'm sorry, we ran a little late into the background checks." She said softly. Heading towards the bedroom down the hall.
"Where you going?" He asked never once moving from where he sat, his gaze fixed on the muted television.
"To shower. My muscles are sore from sitting all day." She said as innocent as possible, knowing anything could set him off and she was not in a mood to fight him off.
"Hurry up, it's almost nine." He said and she disappeared into her room.
Nine o'clock at night was the guaranteed time she was expected to perform sexually for him, as was five in the morning and noon on days she didn't work. Any other times were just spring of the moment and she was given no choice. Back when they were dating it was fun, joyful, but ever since the ring was slid onto her finger, it had become rape. As she exited the shower she tried to change, but he forced her into the room, she tried to fight, telling him she was tired, but instead he ended up dragging her to the floor.
She knew it was going to be like the night before. That was how her 'Long night', as Mulder had put it, had gone. He had wanted sex, she had wanted sleep. She tried to run, he tried to fight. So she in turn fought back, she got a few good punches in and broke one of his left ribs, he hit her in the face and she was knocked out. When she came to it was morning, she had a black eye and was naked. He was nowhere to be found and she was late to work, applying make-up to hide her bruise only made her more late.
Tonight was no different, from where she was on the floor she lifted her foot and brought it to make contact with his groin, he screamed in pain and fell to the floor, letting out a few curse words in the process. She took off on her hands and knees, trying to escape, but only made it as far as that door when she felt something wrap around her ankle and pull her backward. Her nails scrapped at the floor and clawed at anything she passed by, desperately trying to grasp anything on her way back to stop her.
The feel of her naked body against the carpet caused a unbearable burning sensation and she was sure that by morning she would have a horrible rug burn. When she was back in his grasp he flipped her over so she was looking him right in the eyes, he then hit her in the face so her nose was bleeding and she couldn't think straight for a moment, offering him the perfect amount of time to cuff her to the bed. The feel of his hand on her bare skin was like fire that scorched her entire body, and not in the good way.
She cried softly at first than loudly as time increased until finally she found herself fast asleep and no longer in the reality of the world where she had lost by the strength of a man who took of advantage of her, and not just any man, but her husband.
The next morning when she came to she was alone in the room, lucky for her the five o'clock performance was put on hold for another day. Her cuffs were in her purse and she was asleep on the floor. Dry blood ran down the side of her face and tears stained her cheeks. Her black eye was more visible than ever along with a new bruise on her left hip and right thigh, not to mention the lovely shade of red that now covered her entire left side. She silently thanked god nobody saw her naked but Jason and herself so that nobody would question her about what had happened.
She managed to carry her slightly weakened body off the floor and over to the bathroom where she quickly showered and fixed her hair and make-up so not much was revealed. She silently prayed that one day she would wake up and that it would all be over, that everything was only a dream. But as the last bit of her black eye was concealed she knew a prayer was all it would remain.
Later that day at work Mulder sat talking to Scully about an old X-File, she sat listening and smiling intensively, nodding and adding her own comments every now and again. She had come ot find she enjoyed being in Mulder's company a lot more recently, though failed to notice why. The undying knowledge that perhaps if he was around Jason wouldn't touch her was a surefire assumption, but whatever the reason she knew his company made her feel safer than she had in a long time.
Scully had long since taken off her jacket as they sat talking, the heat of the cramped quarters had finally gotten to her and now she sat in her white blouse listening to Mulder. What she failed to notice was the ever so subtle glances he was taking to her stomach. He could see little, but an odd color could be made out through the thin layer of fabric and though he didn't want to pry, he was nonetheless curious and intrigued.
He watched carefully as she bent over to pick up a balled up piece of paper he purposely and playfully threw at her. He moved along with her, desperately begging her shirt to ride up a bit or stick to her shirt in hopes of getting a better look at her skin, but not for perverse reasons. No, for the reasons of a loving and caring friend. As fate wanted his prayers to be answered, a bit of Scully's shirt came out from being tucked into her black skirt and hiked up her side a bit, revealing a small sample of skin for him to view.
He sat back horrified at what he saw, her skin was a bright red and looked as if she had been dragged across something forcefully. He wanted to know what had caused this, who had caused this, and why there was small hints of bruising near the far corner near the bottom of her hip. Did Jason know? He wondered to himself.
He forced a smile and sat back as she came back up and looked him in the eye. She smiled brightly before throwing the piece of paper at him and letting out a good laugh when it his him square in the head. He knew he had to confront her about the red mark, but how and when he was unsure of, not to mention how she would react to it.
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