Title: Or we can burn…

Chapter Five: In the Dark

Category: Angst/Romance/Post Never Again/Hurt-Comfort/Nightmares

Rating: M

Summary: Everything that could have gone wrong, had…and the nightmares were stacking on top of each other. Scully was drowning in her own demons.

"Nightmares aren't just bad dreams. They are bad memories. Memories which you never want to face. But they haunt you every single night." -Pallavi Amarlapudi

Note: I spent far too long fixating on the way this could have been received. Messiness doesn't have to be ugly and ugliness doesn't have to end in negativity. There was far too much left unaddressed in the previous chapters. What we hide in the dark doesn't always have to end in suffering.

Warning: Descriptions might be disturbing or triggering. Proceed with caution.

Oh, I know that this love is pain
But we can't cut it from out these veins

-Ryan Tedder & Noel Zancanella

There was more than darkness hiding behind those eyes; a mixture of pain, rage, fear, and glacial chill that lured and repelled. He was nowhere and everywhere, seamlessly slipping between the urge to run and a curiosity to keep looking. Recklessness had been the tether and remembrance was snapping the line. The tide had come in and the sensation swirling in Scully's belly was that of regret and rebellion as they met in the middle. She wanted to step outside of herself and feel something, anything, but the slithering in her veins only reminded her of the ticking timebomb residing beneath her skin. One that a stranger wouldn't have understood or have been able to cultivate in the way she wanted.

It wasn't supposed to be him but it was too little, too late as the mildew and stale liquor permeated through her nostrils.

He twitched and drifted too close. The impetus to drive forward was compelling but so was the impulse to halt. Nothing felt right and the fogginess moved through her as the impulse clicked; motivation met confusion. The lines blurred and, for a moment, all she saw was Mulder's face in the flickering light. As quickly as it appeared, the comforting features faded and the jagged edges, intrusive stare, and unfamiliar lines took over. The smell of alcohol on his breath and the unmistakably chapped finish of a bottom lip that she didn't know grazed across the finish of her lip balm. Scully jerked back, blinked rapidly, and could only think of the man that wasn't there.

The man that she wanted there more than anything; the same one that rarely reeked of cheap booze and remorse.

Mulder.

"I need to go," Scully's voice was passive but her actions were the reversal as she yanked her arm away from his grasp. "I shouldn't be here."

He didn't smile. He barely moved. The only accommodation he afforded her was another, forceful wrenching of her wrist that made the flesh tender. Scully whimpered but didn't flinch this time; her instincts weren't going to betray her again. The room was wrong, the man didn't belong, and the mounting anxiety sent off every red flag in her body. The ultimate yearning to let go and give in was gone as Scully's impulsivity had gone sailing out a window, fleeing faster than the rest of her had realized.

It didn't go this way before.

He wasn't so apt to grope at her as though she were a possession to be claimed. Slay. Defeat. Lay waste to. His face had taken shape and eyes narrowed in the darkness; seeking her out while the rage burned that might brighter. Every color in the room flashed red and the pressure against Scully's skin pulsed to the sound of breaking glass. Scully had finally lost enough of her willpower but refused to give in; not to a cipher that didn't belong.

Not to another lie.

Not to another mangled memory showing her a twist on a nightmare.

"You're not going anywhere. You never do, Dana," Ed's voice was in another key and set off every alarm within Scully's mind as she pried his fingers from her arm, hissing as the red marks where his grip had been along her skin. "You wanted to forget him—that's why you stayed. That's why you let me in."

"I'm not awake," Scully blinked, hoping to end up back in her bed, next to Mulder, but all hope dashed as she opened her eyes to a winking tattoo staring back at her. "You're not real. This isn't real. I'm not awake."

Scully contemplated sinking her teeth into him, but her focus was entirely on the door that was far from her reach. What had begun as a night wrapped tightly around Mulder had devolved into something more hellish; Scully didn't know how she got there. As much as she tried to will herself from the nightmare, the synapses wouldn't fire, and the walls wouldn't come down. She was trapped. Stuck. Imprisoned in another loop where her personal demons played tug of war with her soul.

Something had to give.

"Don't pretend that I'm not here, Dana," Ed had a handful of her hair and yanked it enough to earn a healthy, painful yelp. "It excited you."

"You're not here," Scully wanted to sob but it came out as a muffled choke while she winced. "I'm not here. I'm in my fucking bed."

Ed held her too tight, throttled her for good measure, and sneered as she did nothing but struggle to move, to run, to evade him. "You know why you're here. You know what he thinks of you. He thinks you did it. He pities you…just like I did."

Scully writhed and thrashed while his laughter began to ring in her ears. She'd never been weaker; she'd never been sicker. Mulder had already offered more than she could ever hope to give him back but there was something in the threat, in the words, that had her questioning every action. She no longer knew what to believe. Trusting judgment had begun to die, especially if it meant turning faith inward. Scully already had the tears down her cheeks, coming down in steady streams while she balled up her fists and continued to fight.

"No! God!" Scully's lungs burned and her back twitched as she shouted toward the ceiling, jolting from the mattress in a full panic with a handful of sheets in both hands. "Mulder! Oh, God! Mulder!"

"Hey, hey, hey, I'm here, I'm right here," Mulder's voice was the lighthouse in the darkness and his arms didn't hesitate to reach out, to steer her away from the wreckage, to peel her off of the headboard with gentle care. "Scully, come back to me."

Scully melted into the safety net of Mulder's arms and let the fevered sobs roll through her while she clung to him. The anxiety didn't dull nor did the secret paranoia that Scully was still stuck in the ravages of sleep as she nuzzled against Mulder's Adam's apple. In the stillness of Scully's bedroom, Mulder didn't stop to question the tears or what had caused them. She had earned the right to let go; wrapped in the comfort of his arms until the storm had passed. He would weather it and shelter her from the next wave if it were to arrive.

"I need air," Scully sat up, dragging the sheets in the process, and held a breath while wiping every one of her tears, shaking almost frantically as she took her eyes off of him. "It's, it's too…hot in this room. Is my robe over there? I feel like…I'm suffocating."

"Scully, you're having a panic attack," Mulder was calm yet methodical as he slid out from beneath the tangle of bedding and found the pale, fluffy material of her robe beneath a pile of their discarded clothes. "I've got it right here. I need you to breathe, full, deep breaths."

"What I need to do, is get out of this room," Scully's knees and hands were shaking as she fumbled with the terrycloth sleeves and tied the belt around her waist, refusing to even lift her eyes to look at him. "I can't be in here right now."

Scully wasn't the irrational type but she was teetering close to that before Mulder's eyes as he slid into a pair of pants. He'd seen her like this only once before and he had to pry an embrace out from her even then. Donnie Pfaster had robbed Scully of more than her peace of mind. He'd taken away that light, siphoned away part of her soul, and left Mulder to cradle the pieces while he begged to put her back together. Mulder never felt obligated to soften his exterior for Scully; he yearned for every opportunity to be close to her, even if it wasn't permanent.

Even if at the end of most days they'd end up back at square one, far from each other's grasp; alone and craving the other.

"Okay, that's okay," Mulder pulled his shirt on and witnessed another tear fall as she lifted her chin to find her slippers. "Where do you want to go? Name it—we'll go."

"I just need air, Mulder," Scully's voice cracked, and her eyes glassed over while certainty had shifted into sadness in a blink. "Please?"

Mulder furrowed his brow, diverted his attention toward the ceiling, and pushed his tongue against his cheek in contemplation before the question came out. "This building has roof access, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, we're not supposed to just go up there whenever we want to, but there's another set of stairs at the end of the hall," Scully looked small and frail beneath the oversized robe as she pushed her toes into the pair of slippers, finally meeting the curious gaze of Mulder's. "Why?"

"You need air, so I am going to give you air," Mulder yanked on his shoes and reached for the patchwork quilt that had fallen to the floor at some point during the night. "Lead the way."

"I can just get dressed or step outside," Scully was hardly in a position to drive but she eyed the keys sitting on the counter as she moved from the bedroom into the hall, still shaky on her feet as the slippers shifted beneath her. "It's going to be light soon…you can just go back to sleep. I'll be fine, Mulder."

"There is one thing in this world that you are absolutely awful at, Scully…" Mulder draped the quilt across his arm and gestured toward the door, snagging her keys from the counter in the process. "Putting on a brave face when you're not okay."

Scully sighed, tilted her head, and went into the hall with a look of discontent joining the anxiety etched across her face. "You know that's not fair, right? Preying on the weaker parts of my psyche?"

"I am only looking out for you," Mulder locked the door, smiled in her direction, and followed her to the door tucked away at the end of the hallway at the back of the building. "Beginning to think that you're leading me to the part of your building where no one can hear me beg for my life, though, Scully."

"Well, you know, these aren't the most structurally sound stairs that an apartment building could have but they're only meant to access the roof and only the thud might be heard from the main hall," Scully was already breathing more easily as they began their ascent, step-by-step, toward the drafty door at the top, away from the confines of the bedroom where nightmares had bloomed. "I'm smart enough that it would be ruled an accident."

"Oh, you've got jokes," Mulder furrowed his brow, scoffed, and stared at her remarkable calf muscles as they twitched at the top of the landing.

The fire door squealed like it hadn't been greased in decades, echoing down the entire stairwell for seconds after the night air wafted into the stuffy space. The moon was still bright in the sky and the crickets chirped in every direction while Scully stood in the doorway. The breeze smelled like cherry blossoms, wet grass, and saturated blacktop as Scully stepped onto the gravel. For a moment, she'd forgotten the reason they were there. At least, until she could hear the thumping of her heart up in her throat, reminding her once more.

Mulder shoved a cinder block against the steel, blocking it from snapping back against the jamb.

"Haven't seen a night like this in a while. The moon has a halo," Scully's voice was far away as Mulder was putting the blanket along the thickest section of the rooftop, away from puddles, mud, and excess dirt. "Can't even see if there are any stars."

Mulder was already comfortably seated on the patchwork, his hand patting the open spot next to him, affection and understanding taking shape in those pools of green and gold. "Why don't you come sit down? If you don't want to talk, we don't have to…we can just wait for dawn to come."

"What good deed did I do in this life to earn this? To get to this point? This moment?" Scully stood above Mulder for another moment before sinking against the soft material that had been sewn together with bits of red and blue, his warmth radiating against her. "I don't know that I deserve it, Mulder."

"To be on the roof with me? Seems like a bit of a stretch for good deeds, don't you think, Scully?" Mulder knew what she meant and he didn't want her even contemplating that she needed to negotiate for attention or care after all she had been through as his fingers curved around hers. "Sometimes, some things are just meant to be and after every battle, you've endured—tempting fate by questioning it all over again doesn't seem like a wise idea."

Though, Scully was lost in recollection and self-doubt as she watched Mulder's hand enfold over hers. The nightmare wouldn't leave her consciousness and the crisscrossing of façade and memory were still playing tricks on her. Mulder deserved to know and perhaps, it would slowly quell the terrors that hadn't let up for weeks. There was still so much that didn't make sense and she knew, deep down, that Mulder didn't understand it either. It was the mutual affectation that had been dragging them down, like cement in their shoes.

"Holding things back and keeping it in has also caused more unnecessary suffering along the way that I don't think I can pretend not to notice anymore," Scully sniffed the air and let the chill move through her hair as every thought went back to the chance that Mulder might not have wanted to hear what she wanted to say this time.

"I didn't mean to cause such offense with a little gas, Scully," Mulder's out-of-place humor alleviated some of the tension but might have been ill-timed as Scully's pulse was hastening.

"Mulder, don't joke," Scully wouldn't have blamed him if every moment that led to this one meant treasuring the intimacy as fleeting with an end at their fingertips. "If I don't say what I need to say, I don't know that I ever will."

"Now, I'm concerned," Mulder said with his eyebrows pointed straight up and his voice softened. "You don't have to talk about it—it's not important."

"I want to talk about it," Scully swallowed hard and her voice softened to a whisper as she tugged her hand away from his to establish control of her bearings. "I don't know if you're ready to hear it but—I need to talk about it."

"You can say whatever you need to say," Mulder wanted to look into those pools of blue but she was staring at her lap instead as he studied the features of her face. "I'm right here."

Scully wiped an errant tear and searched the horizon as her determination began to waver while her voice cracked. "I hear the words and you're saying that now but I fear the only reason I keep having nightmares is that I haven't been honest with you. I don't know if I'd be strong enough to hear you out in this situation."

"Let me decide that," Mulder traced the outline of her hand with his index, grazing her skin until he could see her chewing the inside of her lip. "Is it because of the treatments or was it something before that?"

"Before…" Scully met his gaze and let another tear fall but didn't try to chase it this time as she held a breath while slowly blinking. "Philadelphia."

"You don't need to do this," Mulder could have been a thousand places in his head and they'd all be wrong as Scully's agony was sinking into the dark circles and the spidery, broken veins in her sclera. "I shouldn't have expected you to tell me or think I needed to know about what you were free to do—"

"Mulder, it isn't what you think," Scully cut him off as he was already rationalizing with every combination and result, none of which were good, settling her fingers across the wet traces of seared tears. "The more I pretended that I didn't step outside of my skin and watch the ripple of my own mistakes as though they weren't real…the less I felt like I existed in the same reality."

"You don't owe me an explanation of what happened with Ed Jerse," Murder was circling the issue, delicately avoiding it as though it might capsize everything beneath them, and Scully knew it.

"Oh, but I do," Scully had spent too long lingering on it, fixating on the lowest common denominator, creating a face within the darkness; giving it a name as though it were capable of shackling her there. "I did everything I could to erase you from my mind but the fact was, no matter how hard I tried, you kept creeping back in. I fought it. I tried."

"It doesn't matter if you slept with Ed Jerse or if you didn't. None of that matters now," Mulder didn't want her inflicting more torture on herself and her voice was increasingly ragged as she feverishly wiped her eyes. "After you collapsed—I didn't want to play that game of jealousy. You're more than that."

"It does to me," Scully raised her voice and scooted to the edge of the blanket, putting distance between them, teetering close to sobbing as she inhaled another deep breath. "…for what it is worth. I didn't go through with it."

"I meant what I said," Mulder might've been more relieved than he was letting on but supporting her mattered more than any potential of a failed one-night stand. "Even if you had, his experience of the inner workings of the mind of Dana Scully is strictly novice. Not that I'm much better."

"You're a lot better than you think," Scully was already holding onto the edge of her robe, pulling on the tie until the tension hugged her tighter. "The risk of assigning traits to a stranger that never belonged to them is that they end in regret and disappointment."

"That almost sounds like your second thought is that it didn't happen," Mulder uttered it and felt embarrassment bloom in his cheeks as there was no distinguishing between hot and cold. "You can hit me if that was out of line. I'd hit me."

"I don't think I did a good enough job of explaining it," Scully's eyes tracked a falling leaf as it skidded across the ledge, lifting and dropping as the wind carried it in an undulating motion. "I think I wanted him to be you and he just wasn't."

Mulder wanted to wrap his arms around her and indulge in another kiss like they had earlier in the evening but Scully just wasn't there yet. "Did he get physical beyond what I already know about?"

"Nothing that I couldn't handle," Scully didn't have to see the smile to know it was all over his face as she chewed the inside of her cheek. "What caught me unaware, though, was that I said your name the moment he tried to lean in close and it barely even phased him. It might not have been a big deal but I did it again when he grabbed me by my arm after he thought he was in the clear from a weak apology by yours truly."

"I'm going to regret asking this but…" Mulder's jaw went slack and his breath came out in an audible huff as he tried to wrap his mind around her words. "How far did it go?"

"The car never even revved," Scully was exasperated despite the relief that accompanied the revelation, as she hugged her knees to her chest and hid beneath the terry cloth. "Chalked it up to dysfunction brought on by booze, the hallucinogens, and untreated mental defect. He felt bad and slept on the couch while I stayed in a musty bed wondering what you were doing."

"What do I usually do when I'm alone, Scully?" Mulder laughed into the chilly cross-breeze and bumped his shoulder against hers.

"Paranoia recordings or porn," Scully smiled through fresh tears and settled against his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his bicep until she could hear him breathing just above her head. "…it was porn, wasn't it?"

"When I can't sleep, I can't sleep," Mulder was still in mid-chuckle as he kissed the top of her head and let her hold on a little tighter. "The overactive imagination would've been better served elsewhere but we are both chickenshits that need to be shoved over the edge to make a move."

"Slow and steady wins the race," Scully shifted her knees and knocked them against his thigh while getting a little more comfortable.

"That contradicts most of last night's events, as you'd recall," Mulder's crooked, boyish smile only added to the breathiness of his comment as the gravel shifted beneath the quilt with the movement of limbs. "I know I remember."

"You took your time getting there," Scully nuzzled against his stubble and glided her fingers beneath the soft, worn cotton hem of his shirt to meet the warmth of his skin. "Meticulously, methodically, mesmerizingly slow…"

"Was the letter M part of your calendar today?" Mulder found her gaze and held it as he winked before tucking the unruly, stray hairs behind her ear. "Here's another one to put in your word bank. You mystify me—more than anyone I've ever known."

"I have so many broken pieces and I don't know if any of them fit back together anymore, Mulder," Scully was fighting a battle; for her health, her sanity, and her heart as she evaded his touch for the second time, reluctantly taking her eyes off of him. "I shouldn't ask you to keep holding me up if I have no idea where this path leads."

"Instead of trying to be rational and thoughtful all of the time, let me be the vein of gold that can make you stronger," Mulder stroked her cheek and captured the solitary tear as it fell, drawing those deep steel and sapphire eyes back in a gentle flutter. "Where you see flaws and jagged edges—I just see the reasons that I never want to look away. The reasons you're captivating."

Scully's demeanor softened once more while she held onto his midsection, coiling her fingers around the material of his shirt. "Hey, Mulder…"

"What?" Mulder nudged the tip of her nose with his, whispering into the wind.

Scully's digits crept higher on his chest, tugging him closer. "…kiss me."

It wasn't a request but it also wasn't a command. The words were a melody and struck notes that they had been dancing around. Mulder had already made love to Scully but he was now her lighthouse as her ship veered dangerously close to the shore, keeping her from becoming the unrepairable wreckage along the rocks. Neither of them was entirely broken; they might've been a little bent, though. Nothing was past mending. They weren't beyond hope.

They weren't so far gone that the sun no longer touched their shores.

"Scully, you're going to freeze up here," Mulder knew he was contributing to the drop in temperature as he glanced down at the hand creeping up her thigh, exposing her bare hip to the sky. "…maybe we should continue this downstairs?"

"Warm me up, then," Scully groaned and dug her fingers into his shoulder blade, nipping at his bottom lip while he squeezed the slope of her hip. "Are you worried that we'll get caught? No one comes up here."

Mulder nibbled a line down her neck and reveled in the sound she made while his hand shifted to her surprisingly bare backside. "The only one that should be worried about the possibility of being caught might be the one that isn't wearing anything under their robe."

"You're certainly not helping with that," Scully smirked against his forehead and bit down on her lip until he came back up to meet her, to breathe her breath. "All I want is more of you."

The seconds had already been ticking by and Scully's declarative was filled with more urgency than Mulder could have anticipated. There was already pure, white heat radiating off of them as lips met in a singular cataclysm, setting every nerve ablaze with the first pulse. Mulder wasn't slow or tentative with his kiss and instead pushed Scully's lips apart with his own, reveling in her taste, her scent, her sound. She was exquisite; drenched in gossamer and magnetism. Scully was made of so much more than her allure but Mulder was pulled back in, drawn like a moth to a flame.

He would certainly have been willing to let every bit of her burn him.

Mulder gathered Scully in his arms and set his teeth against her bottom lip just long enough to recover the sound of the whimper that had echoed in his thoughts through the night. She was his muse and the curves beneath her robe were already crying out for his touch as he shifted to hold onto her a little tighter. Even if tonight wouldn't be the last time that Scully had one of those nightmares, Mulder was going to give her soul every reason to find something else to dream about with the sweeping reaches of satisfying more than an ache. They had found each other in the diminishing moonlight, as the clouds began to curl across its surface, dimming her halo. They were each other's indescribable something, that electric and unrelenting pull that turned the flicker into a flame.

They drew each other closer, deeper, desperately suspiring for one another while they waited for the dawn to come.

Quotes by:

Pallavi Amarlapudi

Ryan Tedder & Noel Zancanella

A little note for Gayle, from the XF fanfic writing group…I owe you many thanks for mentioning the idea about the dysfunction. You inspired that section.

To Karina…you know I love you…this might be the one dedicated to you.

To Crystal, you kept me sane. I needed it.