Long chap, give time to read it. Tea break will der be needed.
Continues from previous chapter...
Chapter 7: Strands of Hair
She felt the whisps of hair tickle her face. A padded comfort across sholder blades and spine. A glove of warmth over her body. She strained to hear her heart beating, she wondered if she had died.
...
The wind had gotten harsher now, the strands now beat across her face. The glove was now hot like an oven. She longed to move, her posture had become uncomfortable, but she could not. She realised she was not dead, she could feel the light bump of her heart beat against her ribcage, it was panicked. And her feet were contained by shoes too tight.
...
Now she was propped up against something hard. Tiles. They felt harsh on her skull. Now she was cold, and her body ached to shiver but it would not move. She could feel layers being peeled off of her. Her body lashed at her to scream but no sound came out; she wanted to fight, scratch, kick; but not a muscle moved. Her brain panicked, had she gone too far this time, paralysis? Her eyes although they would not open, they could move; she orbited them furiously. She felt a touch on her eyes, a palm. It was delicate on her face and soothed her eyes; until slowly, they stopped moving. She knew that touch, it reguarly fitted itself on her lower back; it reguarly smoothed the strands of hair away from her face.
"You're ok, it's ok" the voice said smoothing her strands from her face and she was assured, she knew that voice.
It picked up her naked form and pressed it against his own. It was carrying her somewhere, leading her down somewhere. Suddenly sweet scented hot liquid engulfed her body. Her eyes started to orbit again in her panick.
"It's ok, you're ok" the voice assured her again, and she believed it.
Three weeks later; Potomac, MD; Mid May 1991:
Scully's hollow eyes stared out the window from the kitchen parlour, it was raining, not heavy, just drizzling. The red rose bush was not blown by any wind.
Everything still. Her untouched bowl of cereal was sogging away on the kitchen island infront of her, the spoon lay perfectly still beside it. She did not want to disturb the silence, but he did.
She heard Mulder's footsteps down the hall, they hovered outside the kitchen door before walking in. He was suited up in his dress pants and shirt, his briefcase at his side; all ready for his first day back at work. Although, his black work tie hung loosely across the nape of his neck, untied. His fed-up and sleep deprived eyes moved to her uneaten breakfast.
A wave of horror went through her over his stern stare and she gave him a shy smile, picking up the utensil she hovered a spoonful of cereal infront of her mouth. She managed to will it in, but she could not swallow. The sound of his briefcase hitting the floor made her choke. He threw his tie across the room and muttered something unpleasant. She had upset him. Again.
She walked over to the bin to spit out the contents from her mouth. Her whole body shaked as she cried, and the tears were not over her fix or it's current inexistance, she couldn't stand hurting him like this anymore. After a while she felt his sturdy hands encompass her skeletal frame, he turned her into him for a hug. He kissed the top of her forehead, releasing the hair from its tie and massaged her scalp. One hand moved to the base of her neck, where it connected to her spine and massaged hard circles into it; just how she liked it.
After a few minutes of him soothing her shakes and tears away, he used his index finger to bring her gaze to his.
"You're ok. It's going to be ok. We'll try again next week".
The following week:
Her hollow eyes stared out the window from the kitchen parlour, the sun's glare burned her eyes but she welcomed the feeling. The red rose bush was not blown by the wind. Everything still. Her bowl of uneaten cereal was sogging away on the kitchen island infront of her, the spoon lay perfectly still beside it. She didn't want to disturb the silence, but he did.
She heard his loud footsteps down the hall. She snapped out of her daze and picked up a spoonful of cereal, it hovered infront of her mouth. She managed to will it into her mouth.
His footsteps hovered outside the kitchen door.
Now swallow. For all the times he has had to force liquidated food down you, bathe you, help warm you through your shakes; hold the door shut while you banged, hit and shouted vile things at him. He needs his freedom. And she swallowed. She raised another spoonful into her mouth and swallowed.
He walked in suited up in his dress pants and shirts, his briefcase at his side, ready for his first day back at work. Although his tie hung across the nape of his neck, untied. His tired fed-up sleep deprived eyes focused on her mouth.
A pleasant aura waved through her, he was smiling!
She swallowed the cereal and gave him a shy smile. The sound of his briefcase hitting the floor didn't make her jump. She got up to meet his embrace in the centre of the room. They stayed glued for a few minutes before she started rubbing her hands against his back, soothing out his grip on her.
He loosened to push back the strands of hair and used his index finger to bring her gaze to his. Their were tears. "I'm going to go to work today?" He choked.
"It's ok. You're ok" She used his soothing words.
"You're ok?" He asked in disbelief.
"I'm ok" she said resting a hand on his heart. She moved her hands to do up his tie. Her movements were careful and precise, as if re-teaching herself. She could feel the intensity of his gaze on her and blushed slightly. It was their first colour in months.
"Would you like me to make you some breakfast?" She asked when she had finished.
"I would love that" he said holding their gaze, his face not quite smiling but in happy shock.
Feeling confident she tiptoed and brushed her lips against his, back and forth, creating a tantalising friction. She puckered hers slightly into a sweet gentle chaste kiss. But he didn't give her time to enjoy it. It was the first time they had touched like that in two months and he was hungry.
He cupped her head in his large hands and at the same time his tongue forced entry down her throat, while his lips came crashing down on hers. He bit her bottom lip and let out groan. Not unlocking his grip, he pushed her against the kitchen island, his pelvis slamming into hers. The yelp that he had not heard in his frenzy, overpowered the groan as her back broke their fall.
Laying the top half of her on the island gave his hands the freedom to explore her body again. He roughly grouped his way under her T and up her body, and hand gripped around her neck and the other her left breast, easing its way under her bra. He teased the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, earning him a low hungry-for-more groan from her. He moved his hand from her neck to cup in between her thighs. His thumb pressing hard circular movements through her jean shorts. She rhymatically buckled her hips towards his touch, singing into their kiss I'm appreciation over his large agile hands. She realised she wasn't using hers.
Her hands nimbly slunk their way down his torso, appreciating his firm muscles through his shirt, she didn't want to waste time unbuttoning it. She reached to unbuckle his belt, she wanted him inside her now.
Mulder didn't have to be prompted twice, removing his hands he pulled her hips down to meet hers, leaving her mid-suspended in air. She took in large gasps of breath to re-regilate her breathing, propping herself on her elbows, she watch him discard their lower garments. She realised he was doing the same and smiled shyly, becoming preoccupied by his bumpy swollen lips, his eyes full of hunger.
Her mind was still adrift and her breathing still slightly irratic when he slammed himself into her. She let out a loud cry, not only because of the suddenness of it but because she had been longing for this, to feel him inside her, stretching her, filling her. She rested a hand on his chest to deter him from moving, she needed a few moments for her to adjust to the fullness.
As soon as she removed her hand he started pumping into her. He leaned in to give her a clumsy kiss before picking up his speed. She started to meet his thrusts. She was climbing. They both fell together hard. He didn't pull out of her but paraded her sweaty face and neck with kisses.
"We're ok" he confirmed.
June 1991: Two weeks later, Thursday; Potomac, MD:
But they were only ok for a week or so.
There were moments where Mulder was overwhelmed with pride over Scully's progress. He found himself grinning foolishly like a Cheshire Cat throughout the day, usually at the most inappropriate times like at a crime scene, or when informing someone their loved one is dead, or deadly. That fateful day which will be forever engrained in his memory, her body frail, dirty and broken on the floor in an abadoned warehouse, encompassed by the smell of faeces and despair. He knew that his decision to move her to Maryland with him would be in no way easy, or ideal; but that way she would be out of the city and he would be able to monitor her better. Now, a month later, he was able to leave her and not worry about her not eating, self harming or going array. She was there when he got home, dinner already on the table, they would eat while telling the other about their day, watch a movie, make love and then go to sleep. Proud, proud of both of them, because there were definitely moments when Mulder wondered how they were going to get through her addiction without help.
Mulder was having one of those 'Cheshire cat' moments now. He had accompanied his ASAC, Reggie Purdue, to help tie up the case they had been working on since April. With Scully being ill, most of his work had to be done at home, against the bedroom door, Walkman plugged in to drown out the abuse she was hollering at him. To congratulate Mulder on his good work, Purdue was giving him the rest of week off. Purdue thought the kid deserved it and was somewhat aware of his problems at home that had kept him away from work on and off the past six months. Mulder thanked hiss boss graciously, he would have loved to stay at home with Scully from now until forever but bills had to be paid, especially as she herself could not work. And because he was feeling in a good mood, he asked Purdue and his wife over for dinner that evening. He knew he had a son the same age as him but he lived and worked in Chicago, so didn't see him much. Purdue accepted. Mulder was sure Scully wouldn't mind.
...
A rested, freshly scrubbed and dressed Mulder glanced at the grandfather clock in the great hall, it was nearing 16:00, Purdue and his wife were due in an hour and a half for drinks. Then they would have to go out for dinner, to that posh French restaurant in town, it meant he would not be able to drink, as he would have to act as chauffeur. He didn't know where Scully was, but he was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to whip up a three course meal in time.
...
Scully rushed into the kitchen and set the bags down on the island. It was 17:30, she was home later than usual but figured she still had about an hour and a half before Mulder came home. That was enough time to clean up and be presentable.
So she jumped out of her skin when she heard a clearing of the voice come from behind her.
"Jesus Fuck Mulder!" She let out when she realised it was him. She placed the bread knife back on the rack.
"And exactly was that for? Me? Or were you expecting someone else?" He asked in a very even tone, his chin poised by his steepled fingers.
She laughed nervously. "You just scared me is all".
Mulder maintained his incriminating stare. The kitchen clock ticked loudly in the deathly silence. Mulder broke it.
"Where have you been?" He skirted his palm across the island before going to join her by the gas cooker. He towered over her, making Scully feel very small and vulnerable. She reeked of alcohol and weed.
"Out"
"Where?"
"DC" she mumbled, feeling like the teenage daughter in this relationship.
"How did you get to DC?" He asked through his teeth.
She kept her concentration on the floor. "One of the older kids down the road gave me a ride on his motorbike"
Mulder raised his head to the heavens. "For fuck sake Dana! Do you want me to loose my job, do you want us out on the fucking street because being at home 24/7 is the only way I can trust you!" He slammed his hand on the counter, making one of the shopping bags and it's contents fall aground. Scully kneeled to clear up the macaroni cheese and broccoli.
An evil flash of him kicking her in the skull went through him he was so angry but he coaxed it away. He could hear her sniffling, her droplets of tears echoed on the tiled floor.
"Leave it. I did it, I'll clear it up" he said softer, joining her on the floor. Ease off her a bit. Getting angry with her won't solve anything. But he couldn't hold his tongue. "No wonder Daniel had a heart attack and died on you, he couldn't take the responsibility of you anymore. I can see myself heading that way"
He saw her movements still out of his peripheral vision and sought her face. It was wobbling, her lips, eyebrows, tear filled eyes, streaked from her already crying. She burst out of the room, her cries ringing his ears.
Mulder cursed himself and got up to apologise but somethings in her opened handbag overpowered his attention, the opened box of condoms were not one of them.
He caught her at the front door, yanking her arm towards him. She cried out over the pain.
"What are these?" He asked holding up a substance filled sachet and a needle. His voice was so calm and even, it gave out the direct opposite effect.
A look of horror flashed across Scully's face and then it left. "Just let me go Fox. Let me out of your life, so that you can live and be happy. Let me do you a favour and I just leave" her voice cracking because of the tears still streaming down her face. "I'm really not worth the pain I bring" She fought against his grip but to no avail.
But he was in so much rage, all he could comprehend was that her lips were moving. "Where did you get it from?!" He demanded. "Did you get it from your zit faced friend? Tell me how did you pay for it" he shook her so viciously that she managed to break free, but only for him to catch her again, pinning her harshly to the wall near the stairs.
She screamed.
He ripped her cardigan off and pulled down her crop top to expose her red lace bra and chest. "Show me how my little whore paid for her drugs, the food, her ride to town when I only left her 30 bucks or is there a reason why you have an opened box of rubbers in your bag!"
She was silent, whimpering, waves of shock were visibly flowing through her body.
"SHOW ME!" He screamed.
"I prom-ise I wou-d'nt do that to yooouu. I lo-ove you" she stammered through her grief, strands of hair plastered to her face.
Mulder's face softened instantaneously only to inatantaneously harden again. "Bullshit" he roared. "Bullshit" he slammed his fists against the wall, she moved out the way.
He felt strong arms restrain him, Purdue.
He searched for Scully. She was in the arms of an African-American woman, Purdue's wife. He felt his heart break over the sight of her, clothes disheveled...
"I promise you Mulder" he could hear her whimper through Mrs Purdue's embrace.
"What am I supposed to do? He cried out in agony. "How am I supposed to save you?!" And he broke down, finally succumbing to his tears in Purdue's arms.
...
Scully sat silently at the kitchen island not wanting to disturb the silence. She looked out from the window of her prison to the life outside.
THE END.
Only joking! Review it took me forever to write! :D
Do you think I wrote Mulder too harshly? He's just supposed to be exhausted and fed up and overtly scared over her well being, or have I made him seem like a wife beater?
