A/N: Hello Readers! First I wanted to thank people for the responses to this story. I also wanted to take the time to address a reader who is a guest. In a particular review I received, I was told that I should put a rape warning in this story, and since I hadn't, it made someone particularly upset. I am not attempting to be rude at all because it is not my intent to upset anyone in ways besides giving them angsty 'feels.' To the guest reviewer, please note that I put 'NonCon' at the beginning to the stories that did contain graphic depiction of rape, and also mentioned the similarity to Closure/Straightheads, which is known for that. Noncon means non-consensual or rape. I'm sorry that this was misunderstood and I apologize deeply that the story upset you. Please look out for these things in the future.

On another note, I hope that readers are able to enjoy this chapter. This chapter starts the hurt/comfort part of the story.

Closure: Chapter 4

As they reached their car, her shaky legs making the distance considerably longer, a crowd of police and emergency personnel huddled around her partner.

"Ma'm?" An officer asked, running toward her, taking in her appearance. 'God, what happened here,' the Officer thought to himself, raking his heavy coat from his shoulders. The woman looked freezing, her body shaking from head to toe. The little boy looked at him with wide eyes.

"Mulder" She murmured, her eyes glazed over. The police officer cocked his eyebrow, coat still in hand as an offering, and turned abruptly when he heard a deep voice shouting.

"Dana!"

In the back of her mind she could hear herself speaking, filling her in on his ability to be there. To know. There's a tracker on the phone, The voice feebly spoke, nearly drowned out by the pain. If any of our numbers were to call the police, he instantaneously receives a notification. You know this, Dana.

He took in her appearance before she could take in her own. Her evening gown was tattered and torn, the top slipping down from the ripped strap, revealing her black lace brassiere, scraps and cuts clashing against the once elegant gown. Her lip was split and a trail of blood ran down from her hairline. Bruises were beginning to form on her face and her left eye was swollen shut. He continued his quick overview only to notice a trail of dirt and nearly black blood on her legs from the tear on the dress. Scratches on her thighs. Blood. Blood. "Oh god, Dana,"

The world was spinning as her knees collapsed. Her son screamed for his mother while Skinner shouted for the medics that were already hauling over a stretcher. She could feel his arms around her and she fought to regain her composure as her consciousness faded in and out.

What about Mulder? Dana, ask about Mulder. Mulder was hurt. You heard the gunshot yourself. Stop being selfish, ask about Mulder. Was he alive? Did it graze him? Was the gunshot a through and through? Did it pierce any vital organs? How much blood did he lose? Was he conscious? You can donate, you're O positive. Tell them to take your blood.

Her brain was forming words that she should be able to compile as a cohesive sentence ,but instead she slurred his name like a drunken fool, the swell in her lips becoming apparent and the metallic taste lingering.

"Mul-ler" She asked, looking into Skinner's eyes as he held her small body in place. She held out her arm, hoping that he'd know to take her blood. Take her organs if he needed them. She was a donor. He could have them. The darkness was suffocating.

"Dana-

"I'm fi-fine," She spoke, her words absent of their normal articulation. She leaned into Skinner and held her son's hand tight as black spots swam across her vision. She was nauseous. You have a concussion, her consciousness spoke, along with the line: 'I'm a medical Doctor.'She had a concussion. That was all. A simple concussion from hitting her head. Nothing else happened. She had to be strong for Mulder. For their son.

She didn't even feel Skinner's hands under her armpits or hear her son scream for her as her knees collapsed.

She woke to the stark white of a hospital room, afraid. She frantically looked around, and found Skinner by her side, her son's eyes darting back and forth; red and swollen. This was no place for her son. She suddenly found her voice and was happy when it didn't slur. "Where's Mulder?"

"He's recovering from surgery." Skinner responded and she winced. She looked at the IV in her arm and sat up on the gurney, her head spinning as she did so, causing her to bring her hand to it; she needed to settle the world. The world finally stopped shaking and she could push back the nauseous feeling bubbling in her stomach. She was still wearing her dress and confusion crossed her face "You've been asleep for 4 hours…You fought them in your sleep when they touched your clothes" he spoke solemnly, avoiding her eyes.

She ignored the declaration from Skinner and turned her attention to her son. He looked exhausted. "Will, you need sleep," she stopped her words and swallowed, her voice raw and raspy. "Here, lay with me." He sniffled and rose from the chair, climbing into the bed with her. As he laid back into her side and over her stomach she gasped, immediately muting the pain that surged through her and trying to maneuver. Skinner's eyes snapped to hers as her own darted away from him. Don't. Her son eyed his mother fearfully. She couldn't stay here. She had to get to Mulder. "Can you get my clothes? There's a bag in my locker an-"

"You can't possibly think of leav-"

"I'm a Doctor and I have merely cuts and bruises," she delivered with ice, daring him to challenge her further. "I have a change of clothes in the locker room…I just need to change." "Please,"Her voice cracked. "I need to change, and see Mulder. I'm just a little bruised." Please don't question me any further. They're only bruises. I'm fine. Nothing else happened.

He wasn't going to help. Her eyes shook in their sockets, utter betrayal glistening in them before she looked away.

Skinner's eyes widened as he took in the sight of the woman he respected most, her red matted hair rising from the pillow as she hoisted herself up, "Will, could you scoot over a little for momma," she asked softly as she slid from the sheets of the bed, leaving them stained with splotches of red in her wake, and calling softly for her son. Skinner looked for a nurse to aid him, but knew they could do nothing if she refused medical treatment. The bald linebacker followed after her limping form; her bare feet, dirty and damaged making padding through the hall as she dragged the iv pole with her. He couldn't ask her what truly happened to her, so instead he walked beside her.

He knew she was grasping tightly to the strings of her dignity and he wouldn't make it any more difficult for her. They were already so frayed and he refused to unravel them further, holding William's hand as she walked, his little brow etched in fear.

"Mulder," she began, seeing his face battered and bruised, his torso naked with white stained bandages wrapped around his middle. She held the bars of his bed tightly, wanting to lower it, but feeling so weak. Skinner was right behind her with a chair, seeing the strain standing caused her. She let go of her son's hand, easing down into the seat with hands on both of the arms, begging that he wouldn't notice the look on her face when she finally reached the seat. She closed her eyes and bit her lip.

"Sc-Scully," his voice cracked, and he tried to open his eyes to no avail. "A-Are you and William-"

"We're fine," she declared, giving his hand a soft squeeze, diverting her eyes from Skinner's. When Mulder had slipped back into a medication-induced sleep, she rose, noticing her son's sleeping form in the chair right next to her. Skinner had left to get a cup of coffee, and she really needed to get William into a bed. She reached down in an attempt to hoist her 7 year old, but began to collapse just when Skinner returned. He was immediately by her side, taking her son from her grasp and maneuvering him into his own arms as she used the nearby chair for support.

"His-His pants are soiled," she whispered, her hand coming to her mouth to strangle a cry in her throat. "He-He heard."

"Dana, you have to report it."

"I can't," she adamantly shook her head. She stumbled into his resting arm, the other grasping her son tenderly.

"I'm going to get a Doctor."

In the end, it was Monica who talked her into it, uttering words of encouragement from the car she was speeding in with John Dogget. They needed to catch the men who did this.

She stared blankly past the Doctor who was telling her about the damages to her body, simply thankful that she didn't know her. That she didn't know her. Stitches are quite common, Dana, she heard her mind repeat. It's only a few, you'll recover in two weeks time, tops. Just a small tear, and some damage that would be fixed through medication; nothing to serious internally. After all, she was lucky. She could have died, could have been forever maimed.

Unlike the Doctor, she knew the nurse and couldn't escape her pity-filled eyes as she swapped and performed the 'rape-kit' procedures.

"Dr-Dr. Scully," the young woman stammered, as Scully pulled the paper robe back over herself, then pulling the hospital blanket around with her.

"Yes Amanda," she answers numb, determined to keep her dignity.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm fine, Amanda." Her eyes are blank again, staring past the young nurse and wondering if Mulder had woken up; praying that Skinner would keep his promise not to tell him. Amanda slipped from the room and she sat there. He couldn't know. Mulder…he would think it was his fault, and she couldn't have another thing on his conscience. She should have been more help. She could have defended herself more. No. She shook her head. This was not her fault. "I just need a shower and my clothes."

She worked her way through her testimony, thankful that her test results were returned and negative…for now. She swallowed the pill and elected for the shower that Amanda had offered her, wanting to change and finally put on underwear again. She limped into the shower and used the hottest water possible, washing over herself repeatedly, wincing from the pain. The water boiled her skin and she let it, relishing in the feeling of everything melting away. She washed her hair, and the cuts on her face, all the way down to scrubbing the dirt and blood from her feet. Her skin was stained pink when she emerged, sliding the underwear on first with a wince, and then moving to the pants, which were thankfully the yoga pants she packed in her locker bag. After sliding on her sweater over the cuts and bruises and moving her hospital slide-ons onto her feet, she closed the locker. Emerging from the room, Amanda was waiting.

"Dr. Scully, your son is awake."

She walked boldly, no longer stumbling. Mulder couldn't know and neither could her son. She had to be strong, be strong for them. She tilted her head upward and walked towards Mulder's room, the beginnings of mid-morning now peaking through the blinds.

"There's my boy," she said, entering the room where her son had changed clothes and was now munching on a lunchable. She knew she owed the clothes to John and Monica, who most-likely stopped by her house on the way over. John was sitting with Skinner, sipping on coffee and talking with William while Monica stood in the corner with her arms crossed over her chest, immediately locking eyes with the red head as soon as she entered. William scrambled to his feet, Dogget catching the tumbling meal-time food, as her son barreled toward her.

"Careful, Will," Skinner began and the boy slowed, reaching his mother as she kneeled painfully and wrapped her arms around him. The boy began to sniffle into his mother's shoulder and squeezed her as tightly as his little arms would allow. She ran her battered hands over his hair, soothing him.

"I thought-

"shh, shh, it's okay, baby," she whispered, already knowing what her son was going to say. She hoped one day he wouldn't fear her leaving him but knew that day was far from now. "I'm here."

"I heard you cryin' but I couldn't come, Mommy," He sobbed and her hands splayed across his back, her eyes wide in an attempt not to hyperventilate.

"I-I'm fine, Will," her voice cracked, as her son continued to cry. "You did good." He pulled back from his mom and started to wipe his eyes, nodding his head along with her own encouraging one.

"Will Daddy be ok?"

"Of course; he's just restin'. He'll be back to little league in no time," Dogget chimed in, filling in the place for her silence. Will turned to look at him earnestly and then back to his mother who nodded, her red locks spilling over her shoulders as she did so.

When he was finally done, he fell asleep on her shoulder. Dogget scooped the boy from her with the tenderness and experience of a father as Monica crouched by her side, whispering soothing words in her ears and bringing her back to her feet with Skinner's assistance.

"Ple-please, you can't tell Mulder."

"Dana, he'd-"

"Promise me." She looked each of them in their eyes, getting the silent affirmation of their promise.

"He needs to know."

"I-I know. I just need time…Please."

A/N:Thank you for taking the time to read my story. Please review and tell me what you think. Where do you think the story should go? I'm eager to hear people's ideas :)