Title: Attached
Author: M & S Shipper
Category: Romance / Angst
Rating: R
Spoilers: Up to the end of Season 7.
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, don't claim they are. Any slightly interesting
characters remain the property of Chris Carter, 10 13 and fox.
Summary: Someone is just a little more attached to Scully than they should be.
Feedback: Please, please, please and please!!!!
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"You will not touch me ANYMORE!!!" The woman shrieked.
I looked over to Mulder for some kind of direction but the shrug of his shoulders told me he was as much at a loss as I was. My eyes scanned the room yet again, trying to discern the source of the threat. Her screams were blood curdling, growing in intensity, she was obviously terrified. But they were directed at an invisible assailant. How could you fight that?
"Don't you get it, I don't want anyone else in my life," She screamed into the air. "I'm married, I'm happy, I'm in love, just find someone else and leave me alone!!!!" Her arms flailed madly above her head, swatting at the air like a woman possessed.
"Mulder, I think you should get the nurse." I said.
"I DON"T NEED THE NURSE YOU STUPID BITCH!! You don't get it do you? He's everywhere, I can't hide from him, not even in my dreams. Oh god, where is my husband when I need him?"
"Please Mary just try to calm down, we're getting him flown back today, just like you asked." As I reached out to comfort her, she grabbed my wrists, momentarily throwing me off balance. Mulder was there instantly but I silently urged him to give me a moment. I could handle this. He wasn't happy but did as I asked.
"You're safe, no-one is here now, and nothing will hurt you." Her breathing slowed and the grasp she had on my wrists eased. I relaxed slightly, letting out the breath I'd been holding onto. Out of no-where her fist come into my line of view. Too surprised to react, I had no defense against the blow she gave to the front of my head. The force was great for such a small woman, and I crumbled to the ground, stunned.
"No-one understands. I'll never get away." She was beyond hysterical.
I managed to look up for a moment to see Mulder slowly coming up behind her. Tears were streaming down her face. As she spoke to a vacant space in front of her I saw the desperation in her eyes, the fear and exhaustion. She was on the edge of a breakdown that much was for sure.
Mulder was about to grab her when she dropped to the floor in a faint. It was all I could do not to follow her and do the exact same thing. My head was spinning from the blow and a lump was already forming. Struggling to get up I saw the blurred image of Mulder quickly moving toward me.
"Stay down Scully, she hit you pretty hard, are you ok?"
"I'm fine Mulder, Just get some help."
"Sure, won't be a sec." He said and then added sternly "Stay there!"
"I'm not going anywhere."
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The computer screen swam before my eyes. How long had I been staring at this thing? My watch confirmed it had been almost three hours. Sliding my glasses down, I began to rub the bridge of my nose. It seemed to momentarily ease the dull throb emanating from within.
"Scully?"
"Mmmm." I said looking up.
"What's going on with you today. You're here, but you're not here. Usually you'd have finished up six of those reports by now."
"Since I'm doing it all by myself, I can take however long I want!" I snapped back.
"Whatever. . . . I think that woman may have smacked you a little too hard over the head. You're not yourself today. Do you feel all right?"
"I'm fine Mulder." His eyes were still focused on mine, unappeased, and waiting for a reply. "Maybe a little tired."
"Tired, why? What's wrong? Is your head sore, maybe I should have had you checked out by a doctor." His voice was instantly filled with concern and his brow had furrowed further than I thought possible.
"Mulder, I am a doctor, I'll be ok. It's just a bump really, but this is why I don't always tell you what's going on. You blow everything out of proportion, and never let anything go."
"Not if I'm worried about you." Now he's staring at the bump on my head as if it were some grievous injury instead of the small bruise it was.
"Well don't. I'm fine."
"Hmm, so you said."
There is a long silence before I turn back to my computer. He's not dropping this, but today I don't have the energy to argue. Forcing my eyes to meet the blurred words on the screen, I begin to tap away on the keyboard once again. The sooner I get this done the quicker I'm out of here.
ADDENDUM TO CASE REPORT No 549671-4
THOUGH AT THIS POINT NO ARRESTS HAVE BEEN MADE, IT IS MY OPINION THAT THE CASE HAS BEEN INVESTIGATED TO THE FULLEST. THE INCIDENTS THAT THE VICTIM SPOKE OF HAVE NOW CEASED, AS HAVE ANY FURTHER ASSOCIATED INJURIES. THE CAUSE OF THE ORIGINAL INJURIES HAVE, AS YET TO BE FOUND. NO EVIDENCE HAS BEEN DISCOVERED TO EITHER CORROBORATE OR DISPROVE MARY HOLLAND'S STORY, THAT SHE WAS BEING ATTACKED BY A GHOST. IT IS MY OPINION THAT SHE MAY HAVE BEEN SUFFERING FROM SOME FORM OF PSYCHOSIS AND EVEN THOUGH THE EPISODES HAVE CEASED, SHE SHOULD STILL BE ADMITTED FOR EVALUATION.
I let out a deep breath, thankful that I was finished the report for Skinner, hell I'd had enough of this whole damned case. My head was throbbing and all I wanted to do right now was to go home, take a bath and forget everything.
"I'm off now Mulder. Can you sign this, and I'll drop it off to Skinner on my way out." I said holding out the case report. He took it without reading a thing and put his signature on the bottom.
"There you go. What would I do without you?" His tone was sickly sweet. "Doing anything tonight?"
"No, and that's just the way I'd like to keep it. Don't think I can't see through you're little trick. You're still trying to keep an eye on me, well I've already told you, I can look after myself."
"Hey I was just making small talk, there's no need to bite my head off. Get some rest this weekend it looks like you need it."
I opened my mouth to say something, but decided against it. In the mood I was in it would most likely make things worse, so I left without another word.
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The credits rolled up the screen, as the tears rolled down my face. Why do I watch these kind of movies? Sappy romances with people who end up so damned happy that it makes me sick. Maybe I should just stay with Caddyshack as Mulder does. No chance of crying in that one, and it's far safer that way.
Using the remote I switch off the set and stare at the blank screen.
Friday night. Where am I going? Nowhere. Who am I with? No one. How do I look? Bloody awful. Dressed in my flannelette pajamas and oversized dressing gown, which is now sporting a large ice cream stain down one side, I feel completely unattractive.
The third yawn in as many minutes overtakes me, and finally I take the hint and head off to the bedroom. In what has become an evening ritual, I check all the windows and doors are locked and turn out the lights.
As I slip between the sheets I realise how great my bed feels tonight. I've been dreaming of it all day, almost literally. I've lost count of the times I'd been really close to drifting off today before pulling myself back, just in time. It's cool tonight, which is nice, it means I can snuggle down further into the duvet without overheating.
Sleep approaches fast but in the final stage of the night, where the line between being asleep and awake is blurred , I become aware of a presence in the room. Feeling no overt danger, which is in itself strange, I remain still listening and waiting, for what I don't know. Nothing presents itself. I must have imagined it so I roll over. Searching for a new position on the other side of the bed I discover the sheets below me are warm, as though someone has just this moment got out.
Now I'm afraid. Shocked, I sit bolt upright in my bed and flip on the lamp looking for something further to explain it, but there is nothing. The room has the same dark corners and shadows it usually does. The sheets below feel cool to me once again.
I snuggle back down into the duvet again. This time not seeking it's warmth but it's protection and comfort.
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My mum greets me the same way she always does on a Saturday morning. Lately I really look forward to our Saturday morning brunches, when I'm in town of course, it adds a little structure and normalcy to my life.
"Hey sweetie, how was your week?" Her smile is warm, even though she hasn't looked at me yet, too consumed with shrugging on her coat and locking the door behind her.
"Not to bad. Finished up with another case."
"That's nice dear." That's about all she wants to hear about my work, and I really don't want to say anything further, details only worry her. She has finally locked up and now looks me in the eye. Her face crumbles. "Good lord Dana, what happened?"
"It's just a bump, it looks worse than it is, really." Her face is still concerned. "You should have seen the other guy."
I manage to produce a small giggle at my own attempt at humor but she does not reciprocate. Her concern turns to disappointment.
"I wish you'd take better care of yourself. Why do you always have to put yourself in danger?"
"It's part of the job." My reply is succinct but true. I have no choice in the matter, if I want to work on the x files, I accept the risks.
With that out of the way we should be free to banter and chat about trivial matters the way we always do, but it doesn't happen that way. We sit in silence all the way to Mums favourite café. It is not far from her home and within ten minutes we are seated in our usual seats, sipping on a cappuccino.
"Has someone checked you out."
"Yes," I lie "But like you said, just a bump, completely harmless."
A natural rhythm finally returns to our conversation. Firstly she let's me know what Charlie and Bill are up to, the grandchildren and then finally herself. I find myself drifting off from what she's saying to me, instead focusing on her tone and the delicious smell coming from my coffee cup.
I suddenly feel strange. In a heartbeat my tranquillity fades, something isn't right. In one motion I scan the room looking for something out of the ordinary, but nothing stands out. It's an odd feeling as though I'm being watched, but I can't pinpoint from where. Everyone looks as engrossed in their conversations as they were when we arrived.
"Dana? Are you okay honey?"
"Yes, sorry. I didn't mean to zone out like that, I thought I saw. . . . never mind. . . I just didn't get much sleep last night."
"Are you worried about something?"
"No, just one of those nights I guess."
"Try and get to bed earlier tonight, you're not yourself today. Maybe take a long bath before bed, that always helps me."
"I will, don't worry, you're starting to sound like Mulder now."
"I'm glad, you obviously need people looking out for you." She said once again focusing on my bruise.
"He's worse than you are." I didn't mean for the words to come out quite so harshly, it was meant partially as a joke, but the second I close my mouth I know they are a mistake.
"Well, fine Dana, If you don't want me to worry about you anymore, then I won't." She was angry and hurt, I could tell that immediately.
"I didn't mean it like that, but I hear this all week at work, and I don't need to hear it from you as well."
"Don't worry, you won't have to." She was already half way out of her chair before I realise what is happening. I've made things worse, if that is possible.
"Mum? Sit down."
"No, I'll call you later in the week, just to check in, and make sure you're still alive, but only if that's ok." She turned on her heel and left, but not before I saw her eyes glass over.
Damn it Dana, what's the matter with you? Maybe by the end of the weekend I can turn everyone against me. I was doing well so far without even trying. My face scrunched up as I took a sip of my coffee. Before it tasted smooth and creamy but now it's just bitter, and I've enough of that inside me at the moment. Replacing the cup I leave a few bills on the table and head off.
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The gentle ticking of bubbles beneath my chin is so relaxing. There's nothing quite like a bath. I love my bath. The heat soaks slowly through to my bones, soothing all in it's path. The vapors of bubble bath and steam, fill my nostrils and clear my thoughts. I've forgotten all my worries for the week and am completely at ease.
That is of course until the phone rings.
Silently patting myself on the back for having the foresight to bring the receiver into the bathroom, I hit the talk button, already guessing it's Mulder.
"Mmm. Scully."
"Oh, you sound relaxed, let me guess all soaped up in the tub and waiting for me to come and do your back."
"Sure, Dave come on round." I purr down the phone, surprised by my own ingenuity.
"Dave? Who the hell is Dave?" He's agitated but I can tell it's an act.
"Oh, you're not Dave?. . . Is that you Mulder?"
"You know it is, but I can change my name if you like Dave better. Whatever does it for you babe."
"Jokes over Mulder what do you want?"
"Just to see how you're doing." I rolled my eyes at this, between Mulder and my mother, there was always someone checking up on me, don't they ever give up?
"I'm fine." This line of questioning is really getting boring and I make no attempt to hide it from him.
"Oh, glad I called, wasn't expecting that for an answer." He seems genuinely irritated but so am I.
"Was that all you had to say."
"No, I wanted to see if I could bring over dinner and a movie."
"I don't know Mulder." I'm dragging out my words in indecision. Does he really want to come over or is it just to play nursemaid?
"Come on, I'll get some popcorn, and it's your pick from the video store."
His voice fades into the background as I'm distracted by the feeling that someone is watching me again, just like before. The air has become crisp around me and I shiver despite the warmth of the bath water.
As if under a control not my own, I feel my arm lower down and the phone tumbles to the floor, almost in slow motion. During it's descent I hear Mulder's voice grow fainter and then disappear completely with the snapping of plastic. The casing for my phone breaks and skittles across the floor. My energy ebbs away as I feel as though I'm paralysed.
Someone or something is here. I can feel it. Unable to move, my head becomes heavy and foggy. The steam from the bath continues to swirl around me, not relaxing like before, but much thicker, almost suffocating.
Time has lost it's constancy. How long had I been like this? I have no idea.
Panic fills me on the inside but I'm unable to translate this into actions. Looking down, I felt the water creeping up higher under my chin. Had I left the faucet on? Everything was hazy. As my eyes roll upwards and I notice the room disappearing from view. Wait the tub isn't filling up, I'm slowly sliding below the water line.
Panic grows to absolute terror, as I realise I'm powerless to move. Despite my desperate efforts the water passes my lips. I struggle to move upwards, but something keeps me down. In seconds my nostrils are also submerged and in no time at all I'm completely under water. The image of my bathroom through the ripples of water is an eerie one, as I see the figure of a man standing, watching by the door.
The air remaining in my lungs becomes thin and stale. I struggle to make it to the surface to no avail. My lungs are screaming for air and left no other choice my mouth opens, taking in a big gulp of warm soapy water. I'm seeing spots before my eyes and it's then I give up to the darkness and feel myself begin to drift away.
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I didn't feel my body being pulled from the bath, nor did I feel myself being placed on the ground. The first thing to bring my consciousness about is the feel of warm lips gently prying apart my own, filling me with life. Mulders.
This delicious contact is short lived as I feel water begin to rise up and out of my throat. Fits of coughing and spluttering overtake me as I struggle to clear my lungs. One of Mulders arms props me up against him while the other gently rubbed circles on my back. His strength is all that's keeping me upright.
"There there now, bring it all up." His words were soothing me as much as his actions.
After I was sure I had brought everything up, there was still more. I was exhausted by the time I'd stopped heaving. My abdomen sore and my head woozy. The combination of fear, exhaustion and relief instantly reduced me to tears. Powerless to stop them they made me shudder with their force.
"Come on, it's ok now." He said drawing me in against his chest. It was a few minutes before I got my emotions into check. He sensed the shift and seemed almost disappointed by it.
"Thank you." I managed to get out, even though my throat was now raw, and my voice barely audible.
"What the hell happened?" The words did not match the tenderness of his tone.
"I don't know. One minute I was talking to you and the next I was paralysed. I couldn't move, and then I felt myself slipping below the water line. I tried to pull myself up but I had no control. I thought everything was over."
"It sure could have been. Do you know how dangerous it is to fall asleep in the bath?"
"Well of course I do, but that's not what happened! Usually when you're asleep, you don't feel like someone's holding you under."
"A dream then?"
"Mulder, I was in mid sentence with you, that's kind of a strange way to fall asleep."
"Maybe but not impossible, you haven't been sleeping well lately. You said that yourself." The more my panic eased, the more he began to make sense and I began to doubt myself.
"How did you get here so fast?"
"Fast! It's been 20 minutes since you dropped the phone." My eyebrows raised unconsciously at this, it had only felt like a few minutes. There's no way. . .
Mulder saw the confusion in my eyes and reached out his hand to me.
"Come on, you should lie down for a bit. I'll go and get that video, order some dinner and get you up in a few hours when it arrives. Sound good."
"Wonderful." He turned and was heading toward the door.
"And Mulder," I waited until he was looking at me again "No Caddyshack."
"Sure." He said grinning.
"And Mulder."
"Yep?"
"Thanks, for. . . . " My voice broke at the thought of what almost happened.
"I know. Now get some rest."
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My head hits the pillow and I know it will only be a few seconds before I fall asleep. I'm exhausted. Sleep deprivation and an emotional outburst has a way of draining you.
I feel a cool breeze and instantly wonder where it's coming from. Opening my eyes I find I am walking down a lane, I can't see him, but I know I'm holding Mulders hand. It's warm. The sun is shining down on us. So many wonderful emotions are flooding me, warmth, happiness, love. We continue through some of the most beautiful countryside I have ever seen, when the sky clouds over.
I'm falling. It's a sickening feeling, I'm alone, I can feel hands grabbing for me, pawing me, hurting me. Until one set grabs on and won't let go. It's a man, middle aged, dressed in an old-fashioned suit and hat. His eyes are dark, almost black like his hair. I try not to look into them. The only way I can think to describe his smell is death.
"You are mine. You are mine." He keeps saying this over and over, holding me off the ground by my arms, almost breaking them with the pressure. With each echo of his mantra he shakes me harshly, drilling the idea in. The words are hurting my ears and I can't stand to listen. Finally finding the voice that has failed me thus far, I begin to yell.
"Never, I'll never be yours. Don't touch me. I'll never be yours."
"Scully?"
"Mulder, where are you?" I can hear him, where is he? He's not far from me, but I can't see him. I trying desperately to break free and get to Mulder, but the man doesn't let up, and is now laughing at my attempts to escape his grip. "Get your hands off me, leave me alone?"
"Scully. It's ok, wake up. Scully?"
Shooting up from my bed, I almost knock Mulder off. It takes me a moment to get my bearings as I my eyes dart around the room, taking everything in. I look back to Mulder sheepishly, realising I'm now safe in my bed, covered in sweat. My eyes check the room once again, it's darker, but empty, except for Mulder and myself.
"That was some dream you were having there."
"Mulder, I don't think it was a dream."
"What makes you think that?"
"To many things have been happening for this to be just a coincidence. I'm not sleeping. I feel like someone is watching me all the time. I'm biting peoples heads off. I almost drown in my own bath. I see a man standing over me while I start to drown, and now I have the most real nightmare of my life, which has the same man telling me I am his. Mulder I'm scared, really scared. It's nothing like what we usually face here, I can't even see what I'm fighting."
"Hey stop, take a breath, you're scared, I understand that.' He's stroking my hair, and using a soothing tone. "It's been a stressful week, but there's no need to work yourself up further by jumping to conclusions."
All of a sudden, his words sound condescending.
"Mulder it's not just me, something's going on here!" My eyes don't meet his, they dart around, to busy thinking, trying to assess what's going on.
"Hey, look at me." He leans in grasping my shoulders, steadying me. His pressure is light, but it hurts, eliciting an unconscious whimper out of my lungs.
"What is it?" He says, letting go of me. Not waiting for a reply, he begins pushing the sleeve of my pajamas up to examine my arm. "Scully! What the hell is this?"
"I don't know." It's a lie, I have a pretty good idea where they came from, I'm just having trouble believing it.
"You've got bruises all the way up your arm here Scully, bad ones. This isn't an accident, you must have felt this when it happened." He continues to inspect my arm, holding it with such care and affection that I almost forget my worries, but his words bring me swiftly back to the present.
"Scully. These bruises are in the shape of a hand. Now are you going to tell me what's going on?"
"I don't know what's going on." I can't tell him, I don't even believe it.
"You're hiding something. Tell me where the bastard is that did this to you, he's not going to get away with this."
Great, Mulder had taken on the role of my personal minder and protector again, willing to defend me until the end. If it didn't annoy me so much, maybe I would be flattered by his passion and attention, but I've spent too many years convincing this man I can take care of myself to let it fall apart quite so easily.
"You have got to be kidding Mulder. How could you possibly think. . " He cut me off
"You haven't given me anything else to think yet."
"I not sure myself Mulder. . . . It think. . . . "
"What?!" His tone was not helping matters.
"I ummm. . . . " My lips just can't seem to form the words.
"Just tell me Scully!"
"I think it was a ghost." There, I've blurted it out, no taking it back now. I raised my eyes up now to gauge his reaction.
"A ghost?" His eyes looked me over summing up my sincerity. Why is he so ready to believe anyone and everyone, but on this he stops to ask questions. Maybe this was stupid, I have no proof that something's happening here, just a whole set of coincidences. If Mulder didn't believe me then maybe I'd really lost it. A strange intuitive feeling continued in the pit of my stomach, telling me not to let this go. Pull yourself together Dana, and just tell him the truth, be honest.
"Look I don't know, I can hardly believe it myself, but it's the only explanation I have at the moment."
"You'd better not be protecting anybody." God! Could he just lose that macho over protective shit and listen to what I'm saying here!
"You don't believe me, of all people Mulder, I thought YOU would. . ."
"I do believe you. I just had to be sure." The interrogation was over now all that was left was to find a solution, but Mulders eyes remained focused on me. I couldn't tell exactly what he was thinking, this was an expression I'd never seen before, usually his face was an open book but this was different. His eyes were full of concern, intense, and filled with something else I couldn't quite put my finger on. The intensity made me suddenly uneasy.
"So. What now then?" I said, trying to break the charged atmosphere. His expression changed back to that of an investigating agent.
"I should probably stay with you. Not much we can do really, but if something comes back I want to be here."
"Ok, sounds like a plan."
"I've got Chinese in the kitchen, throw on some clothes, don't rush, and I'll heat everything back up." With that he was gone.
I pulled myself out of bed and changed into jeans and a sweater. Just I was pulling the sweater over my head, when I saw a reflection in the mirror behind me, there was a darkened figure in the corner. A tall man dressed all in black.
Spinning around to confront the intruder, I was shocked to find the room empty. Even though there was nothing there, the room was still unusually cold. Someone was watching me in my own bedroom, and there was nothing I could do about it. Nothing Mulder could do. No official channels or protocol to be followed.
Suddenly my mind returned to Mary Holland. "You don't get it do you? He's everywhere, I can't hide, not even in my dreams." Her words sent a chill through me.
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"It makes sense." I could tell he was still turning it over my theory in his mind. "The timing is certainly right, Mary Holland's problems ceased when yours began."
"I think we should go and see her." I was beyond eager, I just wanted this thing over and done with.
"It's Sunday Tomorrow." He said chuckling, popping another egg roll into his mouth.
"Damn it. I don't think I can stand this another day, every time I'm alone, he's back, watching and waiting." He was taken aback by my panic.
"Not when I'm here." Now he was serious.
"Yes Mulder, even when you're here, just now, while you were making dinner he came back again."
"Damn it Scully, why didn't you call me. You're so worried about appearing weak to me that you may just get yourself killed." He looked betrayed, and in a sense I had betrayed him, if there was one fundamental rule in our relationship it was to tell each other the truth. I hadn't lied to him, but I also had not been forthcoming with information.
"He wasn't there long enough to call you in."
"And if he was?" His voice demanded the truth.
"I probably wouldn't have called you anyway."
"Precisely my point. God Scully, you have to trust me. After all these years you've proved how strong you can be. You have nothing left to prove to me." His eyes glassed over as he gave me a look that I would only describe as pure love, if I didn't know better.
I swallowed hard, fighting to hold his gaze. The air became charged with something intangible, as I saw his hand reach up to tuck a few errant strands of hair behind my ear. He traced the outline of my face, staring in wonder, as though he had never seen it before and was memorising every curve. His hand continued it's path, tracing my necklace, before resting on my shoulder.
To caught up in my own emotions, it took me a moment to register pain, as he unintentionally applied pressure to the bruised area. It made me suck in a sharp breath of air, breaking the moment.
"I'm sorry." He said, reluctantly letting go.
"It's okay." I said, regaining my breath, but failing completely at trying to appear unfazed by his attentions.
He looked down at his shoes for a moment, clearing his throat, and probably his head, before returning to business.
"Look I don't think seeing Mary Holland is going to help us. It seemed that she wasn't having any luck, getting rid of this 'ghost' when we saw her. Now what we need to do is discover how exactly this thing was transferred onto you."
"I have no idea." I made no attempt to hide my sarcasm. Didn't he realise I'd been trying to determine just that myself, for some time now, with no success?
"What did she say right before she hit you."
"Umm . . . something about not being about to escape him, even in her dreams, and that he should leave her alone."
"Didn't she also say that she was married." His tone sounded as though he'd finally made a breakthrough, and I looked at him quizzically, urging him to continue.
"Yes I think so, what are you getting at?"
"She also said that she wished her husband was there, right?" Ok, I'd had enough, he was onto something, but I was still about 20 steps behind., as per usual. He never brought me up to speed right away, but on this one I'll be damned if I'm being left behind!
"Right, but what the hell is unusual about that?! I mean I'd say the same thing, if I had a husband, of course!"
In a split second, his furrowed investigative expression turned to one of complete enlightenment.
"That's it!"
"For gods sake what is it?! Mulder, answer me!" I didn't even try and conceal my frustration.
"Ok, all right then. Now this is just a theory. What if this thing only attached itself to Mary Holland, because she was alone and vulnerable. When it discovered the truth, it left."
"And so it attached itself to me, who is essentially alone?" I said following that same line of thought.
"Well, it's about all we have to go on right now." He said mistaking my tone for sarcasm.
'I'm not debating your theory Mulder, what I'm thinking is how the hell am I going to get rid of this thing? I am alone."
My head lolled forward in defeat, as I realised how little control I had over this situation. There was a long silence, where Mulder was either deciding what to say or if to say it at all. It didn't matter though, nothing he could say would help.
Tears formed in my eyes and began to roll down my face as I realised the aspects of my life that I hated the most were actually working against me. I wasn't alone by choice, hell, I hated being alone. I spent most of my life following after a man who loves me like a friend and sister, when all I want is to . . .. Damn it Dana, stop this now.
Then I heard it, softly in the distance. Almost in a whisper.
"You aren't alone Scully, you have me."
"I know, and thank you for being here, but I really don't think you can do anything. You may as well just go."
"No, I don't think you understand what I'm saying. You aren't alone I. . . " He paused and I looked up at him through teary eyes, shaking my head, urging him to stop now, begging him.
"Don't say what I know you don't mean. I really can't take that" My voice faltered, I was at breaking point, I was scared, exhausted and unable to take the emotional strain any further.
"No Scully, I have to say this. I've been holding it in for far to long, and I won't lie to you any further."
Never before would I have described myself as fragile, but now it is the only thing fitting. If I had to hear Mulder say those things just to protect me , and not actually mean them, it would be the last straw. I will not subject myself to that.
No, this thing is not going to ruin what we have, I will not let it. Stumbling to get myself off the lounge, and conceal the tears streaming down my face at the same time, I make my way hastily into the bedroom, leaving Mulder behind me, open mouthed. In my haste I unintentionally slam the door behind me, then fumble to activate the lock, eventually setting it in place.
I flop down onto my bed letting the sobs overtake me, racking my body, not caring if Mulder hears. So much tension is ebbing from me. Even though nothing has been resolved it is almost cathartic to let myself cry like this. Eventually my breathing begins to slow as I calm down.
How long have I been lying here? Mulder has probably gone by now. It has turned colder in here, so I roll myself off the bed and retrieve a second sweater from the drawer. I catch my reflection in the mirror and notice a small cloud of smoke. It's my own breath. How can it be so cold that my breath is now visible? It's almost impossible for it to be that cold at this time of year.
I look to the windows to see if I've left them open but they are shut, in the same glance I also notice the room is empty, and silently, I thank god.
There is a sudden cracking sound from the corner as a light globe explodes, closely followed by every other one in the room, plunging everything into darkness. My heart is racing, hammering against my ribcage, as I feel that now all too familiar eerie feeling creep into my bones.
"Scully? What's going on in there?"
It's Mulder, he's still here, thank goodness, and he must have heard the smashing of the globes. I open my mouth to answer him but something unseen clamps down against my lips. The now familiar smell of death fills my nostrils, as I claw away at my invisible assailant.
"Are you all right? Answer me Scully!" His voice had considerably risen in pitch and volume and I can hear him now testing the handle vigorously.
"Open the door, Scully."
I'm filled with panic as I feel myself being dragged backwards towards the bed. I kick out with my legs trying to catch anything I can. In a frenzy I manage to slam into the dresser knocking over some frames and the mirror on top.
Mulder needs no further invitation and begins throwing himself at the door. I can hear the hinges creaking under the impact, and the walls shudder.
This is not going to happen I keep repeating to myself, petrified that he'll rape me. I struggle to make contact with the ground, and gain some traction but before I know it I am being thrown down onto the bed. Oh god no, not this. The dark apparition is laughing and murmuring once again, how I will be his.
My eyes catch his arm moving in on a glint of silver on the dressing table. I've been completely mistaken. Finally, I realise his plan. He wants me in the next life not this one. The pair of scissors from my night stand are now firmly in his grasp and moving rapidly towards me. Desperately I try to move my wrist out of the way but it is held in a vice like grip, and even with all the energy I can muster, it can't be budged.
The blade sweeps cleanly across my wrist, slicing the skin with ease, igniting what feels like a line of fire across my arm. A line of blood appears instantly, before pooling and running onto my bed. My mind calms now as I realise there is nothing I can do. Momentarily I stupidly think how I won't be able to get the stain out of my bedspread before I drop my head back onto the pillow. I feel heavy and lightheaded at the same time. Mulder, I never got to tell Mulder how I feel about him. My eyes focus and lose their focus over and over.
Almost asleep now, I hear Mulder come crashing through the door. The dark figure is now visible before me, waiting and watching. Mulder enters hurriedly and runs towards me, right through the apparition, emerging now at eye level.
I can see the tears pouring down his face as he forces the quilt and sheets against the cut. I open my mouth to tell him I did not do this to myself but I get the feeling he already knows.
"Damn you," He yells at the room, focusing on nothing in particular. " You can't have her, I won't let you take her."
He drops down to his knees again. Stroking my hair and applying pressure to my arm. I want to tell him now, I have too. I move my lips but no sound emerges.
"Don't give in Dana, be strong, stay with me. Please don't go. I can't live without you. . . . I. . . . . I . . . love you. "
Gathering the last ounce of my strength I open my mouth and whisper to him.
"I love you too." He is smiling, and crying at the same time, as the room slowly fades away.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I must be dead.
My eyes are closed, and I feel no pain. I feel almost like I'm floating or am suspended.
In small fragments things start coming back to me. I am not floating, I'm in a bed. My arm feels heavy as though there is a weight on it. It smells terrible in here, like antiseptic and medicine.
I struggle to open my eyes and the room slowly comes into focus. It's dim but I can still make out shapes. There is a window, and flowers, a big bunch of flowers. A few chairs. And Mulder.
I'm not dead after all.
This realisation brings me fully into consciousness with a jolt, and the movement awakens the figure by my side. I almost chuckle at the goofy expression that flitters over his face as well as his out of control hairdo.
"Hey there." He says literally beaming at me while trying to wake up at the same time.
"Hi." There is a long pause where we just look at each other taking in the sight. His eyes look at me almost questioning, as I realise in some form of silent communication, what he must be thinking.
He wants to know if I remember.
Well I do. I remember it all. I make a silent promise to myself never to keep things held in, like I have with my feelings for Mulder. We deserve better than that.
I look straight into his eyes and say to him straight out.
"I love you Mulder." His expression relaxes slightly.
"I love you too, you don't know how much, but I'm going to show you."
"Can't wait." I say, but as desperately as I try, I can't stifle the yawn that overtakes me.
"Get some rest, it's late." He pauses, looks into my eyes and answers my silent question. "I'm not going anywhere."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The End
What did you think???
I know, kind of sappy, I get carried away with it all though.
Please R & R.
Think I should write a sequal, or have you had enough.