The Thorn Residence
The Hallowed Compound
6: 20 A.M. Wednesday
Sometimes, in moments of self-indulgence, she allowed herself to imagine what this would be like. Scully had fantasized about what it would be like to give herself to Mulder in the only way she hadn't yet - how he would fit inside her, what his moans would sound like in her ear, how it would be the best thing she's ever experienced. But she could dispel all of that as a carnal yearning, a result of too much time spent in close proximity with a handsome man.
However, in her most intimate, vulnerable moments, she allowed herself to imagine this moment. The after. It was always harder to dismiss. She'd come to accept it as they got closer, the thought of them becoming partners in every sense of the word slowly becoming an inevitability rather than a midnight dream. But back in the day, imagining Mulder cuddling her the morning after having sex felt too intimate - too much like she was yearning for a relationship she'd sanctioned as forbidden. More recently, it had become almost as integral as the sex fantasy. She'd imagine the look of sated pleasure in his eyes, the way he'd still be drunk off their passion so much so that he may instigate a round two. Sometimes she imagined there would be a shyness, a look in his eyes practically begging her to tell him this was alright, that it wasn't a one-night indulgence.
She did not imagine a look of guilt being the first thing she saw.
But that was exactly what she was met with. She felt a feather-light touch brush across her wrist, and a smile came to her lips immediately as memories of the night before flooded her mind. However, when her eyes fluttered open, adapting to the morning light, the first thing she was met with was the sight of Mulder's all too familiar face of guilt.
"Wha-'s wrong?" she murmured groggily, easing up as she tried to wipe the sleep from her eyes.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up," he murmured, his voice husky from exhaustion. If it weren't for the concerning look in his eyes, the sound alone would have tightened the coil in her gut.
"Are you okay?" she asked, suppressing a yawn.
"Yeah, I'm sorry," he replied, sitting up with her. Then, grabbing one of her wrists, he gently pulled it for her to see. It was mottled with dark purple blotches, he wrapped his hand around her wrist, and the marks matched up with his fingers perfectly.
She looked from their hands to his face and saw his brows were furrowed again. "I know this is what we were aiming for, but I still hate seeing it."
The tension she'd felt upon waking up dissipated as she realized his guilt was not about them having sex, but rather, at seeing the marks he'd left on her. "If it makes you feel any better, I bruise really easily. The wind could blow too hard and I'd have a welt," she explained with a small laugh, hoping to make him feel better.
He said nothing. Instead, he drew her wrist to his lips and pressed a tender kiss to her skin. She wondered if he could feel her heartbeat speed up through the pulse point he was kissing. Scully couldn't help but smile at how ridiculous she was being. They'd just made love, her thighs still aching as a gentle reminder, and here she was reacting to his simple kiss like a schoolgirl.
"Does it hurt?" he murmured against the skin of her wrist.
"No," she whispered.
He put that hand down as he picked up her other wrist, repeating the action along the manacle of bruising. "What about this side?"
She shook her head, not trusting her voice. He looked up, not having seen it and she licked her lips and released a breathy, "No."
He set that wrist down before cupping her jaw, his thumb delicately stroking her jaw. "What about here?" he asked.
She licked her lips before teasingly murmuring, "If I say yes, will you kiss it better?"
He smiled as he leaned forward, whispering, "I'll do it either way." His mouth met hers and she resisted the urge to wince, not wanting him to back away though the corner of her mouth was sore. In traditional Mulder fashion, he must've been able to tell, because he let up a bit, instead, sucking her bottom lip in between his and stroking it sensuously with his tongue. She gasped lightly, causing him to laugh and release her, choosing instead to place feather-light kisses all over her mouth and jaw.
Scully tried to pucker and reciprocate, desperately wanting to connect her mouth fully to his, but each time he would tease her by leaning back and kissing a different spot on her.
He leaned back and her eyes fluttered open to see he was staring at her with a small smile. "The hickeys worked out," he murmured, grazing the bare skin of her neck with the back of his index finger.
She didn't say anything, instead, choosing to drink in the sight of a nude Mulder bathed in the dawn light. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, for what she assumed wouldn't be the last time today.
Her eyes flicked up to meet his gaze and she leaned forward and kissed him, unable to resist. "Yes," she whispered, leaning back. "My jaw hurts, but it's more of a discomfort than pain. My thighs are a little sore, but that's a good sore," she replied with a smirk.
Mulder's mouth puckered to the side, as it sometimes did when he was contemplating if he would say something, and she just waited as he gathered his thoughts. "W-when I imagined what it would be like for us-"
"Our first time?" she clarified.
He smirked and nodded, "Yeah. I, um, I imagined it under very different circumstances, but I just-." He paused, taking a deep breath. It was unlike them to be so upfront, but the fact he was powering through his discomfort meant it was something he really must want to say. Or maybe this openness was a side effect of their new intimacy. "I want you to know that it wasn't just me trying to comfort you in the moment. I mean, it was but,"
But it was because he loves her.
He was having a hard time saying the words, but she knew that's what he meant. She didn't want him to think she'd just used him to feel better either, feeling better was just a consequence of being with him in that way. She cupped her hand on his jaw, halting his stammering. "I know," she whispered before adding, "Me too."
He smiled and nuzzled into her hand, turning so he could kiss her palm. "I wish we weren't here," he admitted, the words muffled against her skin.
She knew what he meant. Scully wanted nothing more than to process the step they've taken. To maybe have a moment to herself, to get used to being Scully-who's-had-sex-with-Mulder and learn what that meant for her. She wanted to lay in bed with him all day if she so wished. She didn't want to go out into a community where she had to act like the first time they'd ever been intimate had been an act of cruelty, but that was what she was going to have to do.
"Me either," she admitted. Then turning to him she implored, "But we're close, Mulder. Halloran's going to get a lot from Rosemary's statement, and maybe it will be enough. Then we can go home, and things can go back to normal."
"Normal?" he repeated.
"Normal… plus some," she clarified.
He smirked and nodded, "Plus some. I like that."
She smiled as he leaned over and kissed her once more before rolling out of bed and getting ready.
There was still work to be done.
9:12 A.M. Wednesday
Laundry had gone without a hitch, especially compared to yesterday. Lorraine wasn't there, which made her nervous, but it also meant she didn't have anyone she could talk to comfortably. Laurie had been so shocked upon seeing Scully's arms, it was like she was too upset and disheartened to say anything other than a shy 'sorry' when she was caught staring.
Some of the women whose names she didn't know seemed moderately pleased - the unruly girl had finally been disciplined. Scully hoped they would report this back to their husbands so maybe Victor's suspicions would lessen. The majority of the rest of the women, on the other hand, seemed upset, offering Scully looks of empathetic sympathy every time their eyes met.
Even Rosemary, who initially had been walking with her head held high because of last night's triumph, seemed exponentially disheartened upon seeing Scully's bruises, presumably thinking that her plan may have been the cause.
Scully decided the best course of action would be to lay low, pretend that this perceived lesson she learned last night was so effective that she was choosing not to risk speaking outside the home. She'd risk furtive glances at the women before darting back to her work.
It wasn't until she was back at her house, hanging up the wash on the clothesline, that someone spoke directly to her. She'd been hanging up yesterday's day dress when the wind blew it to the side, revealing one of the other women was standing on the other side. "Jesus," Scully exhaled quickly, jumping back in fear.
"I'm sorry, Katherine," the other woman lamented, stepping out from behind the fabric. Scully immediately recognized her as the mousy woman who usually sat near her at the wash. The one who'd given her the advice about trying to alternate hands while washing.
"N-no, you're fine. I just didn't see you," Scully replied, checking her basket to see if any clothes were left over.
"If you're done. I was wondering if you'd be willing to come to my home for a while? I live right behind you, so we should be safe," she reassured.
Scully felt her curiosity pique at the woman's request. As far as she was aware, they weren't supposed to go out at all, yet this woman was risking it. Why? "Okay," Scully replied with a smile, setting the hamper on the side of the house before following the woman.
Then, remembering Rosemary's warning, she asked, "Hey, I'm sorry. I'm not sure I've caught your name."
"Norma," the woman replied sweetly, easing Scully's worry. "Wife of Alfred."
"Were you guys together when you arrived?" Scully questioned, climbing up the stairs and walking through the door Norma was holding open.
"Um, no," Norma replied, shutting the door behind her. "I was originally with my husband, Alex, but, um, he passed away and I was re-wifed to Alfred."
"Oh, Norma," Scully lamented. "I'm so sorry."
"Me too," Norma nodded, putting a tea kettle on the stove before taking a seat at the kitchen table.
Scully followed suit, sitting next to her as she asked, "May I ask how he passed?"
Norma nodded, wringing her hands together nervously. "D-do you know what happens at the meetings the men have at night?"
Scully shrugged, "Kind of. As far as I'm aware they allow the men to see the dead?"
"Yes. That's correct. Alex was a mama's boy through and through. She died when he was young and he was obsessed with Victor's powers and abilities that allowed him to see her. I think- I think whatever Victor does drains you a bit. As if you have to give away part of your soul every time you cross over to the other side. Alex got weaker and weaker every time he went, yet the other men who didn't go to the other side seemed stronger, like they stole his energy. Um, the last time, I guess he didn't have enough strength and he didn't come back from the other side."
Norma was oddly emotionless as she recounted this, as if she was disassociating from the pain. Scully was reminded of Mulder, how weak he was that night though he didn't seem to be drugged. She felt a wave of unease crash over her as she recalled how desperate he was to see Samantha again. "If you don't mind me asking: how many times did Alex visit the other side before his body gave out?"
"About five times," Norma nodded before a look of remembrance crossed her face and she jumped up, running to the freezer. "I'm so sorry, I almost forgot one of the reasons I called you here in the first place."
A sense of dread started gnawing away at Scully's gut at this new information. What if he'd gone the past few nights? Would he be half dead already? Shucking off the voice in the back of her head, she focused on what Norma was doing. "The reason you called me here?" she repeated.
"I hope you don't think I'm being rude," Norma apologized, a sorry look on her face. "I just noticed you, um, your husband seems to have been cruel to you."
Scully didn't know what to say, and not wanting to spur off the woman, she just nodded, playing along. The woman pulled out a series of what looked like knitted bean bags. "I don't mean to pry, but um, does it hurt you to sit?" she asked softly.
Scully felt her throat go dry at the implication. She had felt a little sore every time she sat down, and she'd mentally smiled at the little reminder of their coupling. A recurring reminder of a moment of intimacy shared with Mulder. She'd temporarily forgotten how different that sensation was for the other women. Clearing her throat, she shook her head. "Um, n-no."
Norma smiled and replied, "Thank god for small blessings." She closed the freezer and made her way back to the table with the bean bags.
"What are those?" Scully asked as she set them in front of her.
"I knit ice packs," Norma beamed, delicately taking Scully's arms and rolling up her sleeves, revealing the marks she'd asked Mulder to make. "Let me know if it's too cold or if I'm hurting you," she smiled before placing the soft, cool material on Scully's wrists.
Scully felt a lump form in her throat at this woman's kindness and the circumstances that caused it - the cruelty these women had to live through. "I know some of the women warned you there would be a change in your husband, but even if you're prepared, it can come as a shock."
She honestly hadn't seen much of a change in Mulder, but she wasn't expecting to in the first place. Despite his interest, he wanted to solve this case. Plus, he'd been fixated on finding out the truth about Samantha before and he was fixated on finding out the truth about Samantha now. However, she wanted to find out more, so she just nodded, "Why does it happen?"
Norma shrugged. "It happens in some men, not all, but I'd say most. They become overwhelmed, so focused on the other side that the living world feels like a nuisance. Some of the women refuse to believe them and I think that infuriates them, I don't know. I'd say ultimately it's the weak men who dissolve into violence." Norma looked up at Scully and winced, fearing she'd offended her. "Sorry."
Scully shook her head and smiled. "No, you're right." Maybe that's why Mulder had fared well, their experience on the X-Files and their relationship in general had completely prepared them for this, not that he would have devolved into this otherwise - he was too good a man. But a lesser man, faced with the extraordinary and being contradicted and made a fool was a recipe for lashing out - textbook male fragility. "Can I ask why you stay?"
Norma shrugged, "I've been here for thirteen years. As far as I'm aware I don't have an identity on the outside anymore. Sure, this may be bad, but I have friends here, a home, three meals a day. What if I leave and I have nothing? I don't know how to find my family, I-I don't want to go to a shelter. I think this just may be for the best."
Scully frowned in response and winced at the pain it caused, shifting Norma's attention. "I'm so sorry this has happened to you," Norma sighed, raising one of the beanbags to Scully's mouth, gently pressing it to the wound. Scully leaned into her touch. Her jaw had been aching more and more as the day progressed, and this felt heavenly. "I'd never had a man strike me before I was married to Alex. It's unjust, unfair, for a man to take out his own personal demons on you, as if… if your pain is great enough it can neutralize whatever he was feeling."
"I'm so sorry, Norma," Scully whispered, overwhelmed at the woman's honesty while hers was a lie.
Norma shook her head, twisting the knitted bag so that a cooler part was on Scully's face. "It's a pain we share. I just hope you know you aren't alone. What you said yesterday to that woman," Norma explained before taking a shuddered breath. "That was so brave, what you said about violence as a method of breaking will and not building character. I know it seems silly, but sometimes being here for so long and being told that you're always in the wrong… you start to believe it yourself. I can't tell you how many of the women I heard murmuring about it all day. I think you gave a lot of the women a sense of selfhood that they'd forgotten they had."
Scully felt her face grow hot at the woman's honesty. What she'd said had just been so painstakingly obvious to her that she hadn't given it a second thought, yet to these women, some of whom probably had no idea of the progresses that had occurred in the outside world, it was revolutionary. "I-I hope what Robert did hasn't broken your spirit, because it would be a shame to see a spirit like yours snuffed out."
A tear rolled down Scully's cheek at the woman's words and Norma smiled weakly at her. She felt bad for misleading Norma, but her sentiments made her realize that Scully needed to hear this more than she'd thought. Scully had been spending the last month trying to convince herself what had happened with Pfaster was a finished chapter of her life. That she was fine. Mulder had tried to talk to her about it, but every time she thought it might help, she couldn't find the right words - trying to navigate an invisible line she'd created for herself, not wanting to seem weak in front of him while trying to be honest. It felt like an impossible task sometimes, even though Mulder had never once made her feel small.
"I-it's not the bruises that bother me," Scully admitted in a whisper, as if afraid speaking in her full voice would make it even more real. "It's having to deal with it afterwards, mentally. Knowing that there are men who find power in bringing you harm. I, um, I had a man who'd been obsessed with me over the past seven years."
"Oh my god," Norma gasped.
"He was released from prison, where he was placed after the first time he attacked me," Scully explained, omitting the rest of the story as not to disturb her further. "He attacked me again, not too long ago, and even though he's dead now, it's not the injuries I sustained that I have a problem with. Aside from a fleeting worry they'd scar or a momentary inconvenience of pain, they didn't matter to me at all. What bothers me is that I'm wasting so much time on him," Scully admitted with a shaky breath. "I think of him when I lay in bed at night, thinking of why he wanted to hurt me, what he wanted to do to me, what he wanted to take from me."
"Someone once told me that you should be proud you can't understand why the people who've done wrong to you did so, it means that you don't possess the same cruelty they do. You don't want to be able to empathize with evil, it's bad for the soul," Norma replied, wiping one of Scully's hot tears from her cheek, soothing it with her touch.
Scully smiled reflectively. "I-I think what bothers me the most is... well, that you work so hard, you're so proud of everything you've accomplished, and in those moments you're-" she paused, recognizing she was doing the same thing she did seven years ago in Karen Kosseff's office. You, second person, distancing oneself from their feelings.
Taking a deep breath, she started over again, conscious of Norma's support. "What I mean is, I've worked so hard, and I'm so proud of all I've accomplished. But with that man none of that mattered; to him I was a body to be conquered. A woman with body parts he wanted to own. The notion is as terrifying as it is humbling."
"Misogyny has no regard for creed, race, religion, it's universal. Nothing matters when a catcaller harasses you or when a man leers at you other than you are a woman who intimidated them and they want to make you feel weak," Norma replied. "It's dehumanizing. I know to my husband I am just chores to be done, and my body is just relief after a long day."
Scully nodded, another tear falling for the woman in front of her, "Exactly. And, as much as I acknowledge that, and I don't want to give him any more of my time, I can't help but think of how I felt in that moment, how helpless I felt. I just keep replaying those moments he had power over me over and over again, and I feel like I'm just giving him that power again and again by replaying it."
Norma moved her hands, placing the ice packs aside and drew Scully's hands into her own, lowering her head to make Scully look into her eyes. Scully saw nothing but endless empathy and she felt another tear slide down the already lain tracks on her cheeks, relieved to have finally spoken the words despite how embarrassed and vulnerable she felt. "I understand what you're thinking, I understand it all too well, but you can't view being upset about an injustice that happened to you as giving him power. You deserve to grieve for those moments your sense of safety were taken away, but they don't reflect on you. You didn't fail, not at protecting yourself or this or that, they reflect on him being cruel and evil. He didn't deserve to make you feel that way in the moment, and he definitely doesn't deserve to have any influence over how you heal."
Scully nodded and wiped her eyes. "I just wish I knew how to tell Mulder. I can tell he's worried about me, but I don't want to tell him and have the same images of me being attacked and me sulking about it replaying over and over again playing in his head. Even though he probably knows or is making it even worse in his imagination. It's just harder to tell him," she whispered.
"Mulder?" Norma replied.
Scully's eyes widened and she sat up, sniffling and wiping her tears away. "I'm sorry, I mean Robert. That's just a nickname we use in private," she rambled.
Norma nodded, her face contorting into uncertainty, "I-I don't mean to pry, but, you're speaking so highly of a man that enacted a similar cruelty against you."
Shit. Scully started chastising herself mentally. She'd indulged her own personal feelings too much in this and she was starting to convolute their own story. Norma seemed to be trustworthy, and she'd been so kind to her that Scully decided to trust her gut. "This was Victor, not Robert," she whispered, locking eyes with Norma in an attempt to convey her earnesty.
"Victor did this?" she gasped. "W-why?"
"Because Robert won't lay a hand on me," Scully admitted, her sense of survivors guilt coming back. "Victor showed him how he should, and I haven't corrected anyone because-"
"Because you want them to think it was Robert to protect him," Norma finished, smiling.
Scully nodded in response. "I'm sorry for lying to you."
Norma shook her head, dispelling the apology. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm glad to hear Robert's good to you, he seemed like a kind man which is one of the reasons so many of us were exponentially perturbed this morning."
"He really is," Scully whispered with a smirk, before adding, "Um, could you not te-"
"Your secret is safe with me dear," the woman assured.
"Thank you," Scully replied sweetly.
Norma smiled in kind, readjusting the ice packs on her wrists. "I don't want to ignore what you said earlier, if he loves you as much as it seems you love him, then I think maybe letting him know could help. I hope I'm not overstepping, but it sounds like you're scared he might view you in these ways you're internalizing. That you can't protect yourself or that you're not bouncing back as fast as you'd hoped you would."
Scully let out a low sigh, she knew Norma was right, but it still made her stomach churn to admit the hold Pfaster still had on her to Mulder, but she didn't want to have any secrets from him. Scully nodded, with a tearful smile. "You're right."
Norma looked like she was about to say something when she paused, looking off in the distance. "What?" Scully murmured, only to be silenced by a raised hand.
"Did you hear that?" she whispered.
They sat motionless, waiting for something to happen. They both turned to each other upon hearing a loud shout of "Katherine!"
The Field
The Hallowed Compound
10:04 A.M. Wednesday.
Yet again, it seemed, Victor was punishing Mulder and sticking him on some dumb assignment. It felt like he was working for Kersh again. Part of him was relieved it wasn't compost duty again. The pit he dug only ended up being about three feet long and three feet deep, so it was going to be a tight fit if they were planning on offing him. He figured it was just a scare tactic. Today his assignment was trimming the grass by the fence with a weed whacker, which wouldn't have been all that bad if it weren't for the fact he was assigned to do the entire perimeter of the compound. The only plus was it was another solo assignment, so it was easy for him to hide Rosemary's journal in the trunk of the tree.
He was grateful that tonight he wasn't banned from the ceremony, so he could get back to doing his side of the assignment. Recently he'd been sanctioned away from the rest of the men, unable to even get information out of Randy, or he was too busy being reprimanded to find out more about the ceremonies. Now he could do that, while also getting another chance at seeing Samantha.
Mulder knew it bothered Scully, and this was not what he was here to do, but he was desperate. It felt like just within that one meeting with her he'd been so close to finding out more, only for her to be snatched away from him again. He just needed to ask the heavy hitters this time.
He was ripped from his musings by the sounds of someone shouting "Robert!" behind him. Turning around, he saw the stringy-haired old man trying to get his attention.
He turned off the weed whacker and asked, "Can I help you?"
"Where's your wife?" Freddy asked.
Mulder felt stress burgeoning in his chest. "What?"
"She's needed at the Warren's house, but we can't find her," Freddy replied.
"The Warren's?" Mulder repeated setting down the weed whacker and walking towards the homes with the man.
"Yeah, Ed and what's-her-face. They have that cute daughter, Anna-something? She's sick and apparently your wifey said she can help, but she's not home," the man replied lazily.
"What do you mean she's not home?" Mulder asked, his concern coming across like anger, consequently making the other man smile.
"Are there many definitions of 'not at home'? I meant what I said. Maybe you're an unknowing cuck," Freddy laughed.
"Is she at the wash area or whatever?" Mulder asked.
"No, I searched all over the outside areas and inside your house. The clothes are on the line, but she's nowhere to be seen."
As soon as they got into town, Mulder ran to their neighbor's house. Mulder knew Scully had two friends on the compound, and if she wasn't at Lorraine's, she might be with Laurie. He pounded his fist on the screen door, waited a few seconds, and then did it again, this time calling out Laurie's name. This time Laurie opened the door, her face turning from curious to enraged upon seeing Mulder's face. That was odd.
"Laurie, have you seen Katherine?" he panted, not realizing he was out of breath nor that he'd apparently run all here.
The girl gave him an icy stare before looking at his tie, following the cult rules. Mulder realized instantly this probably meant she wasn't supposed to talk to him. He was too worried about Scully to care about the man behind him and he leaned towards the screen lowering his voice and murmured, "I'm not trying to get you in trouble for talking to me, I just don't know where Katherine is and I'm worried."
Laurie let out a humorless exhale at his plea and he realized the girl had probably seen Scully's bruises and now thought he was just as bad as the others. "Laurie, please. I'm begging you, just tell me if you know where she's at."
The girl looked up at him once before shaking her head. "Thanks," he murmured before stalking off to the side, running his hand through his hair. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.
"Were all the men in the field?" Mulder asked, turning to Freddy who was just loitering behind him, watching in amusement.
"We trust the men are doing what they need to," he stated ominously.
"Oh really? Yet when I'm ten minutes late you send the cavalry," he spat in irritation. He ran into his house and scoured all the rooms, shouting her name. She wasn't there and he felt his panic starting to mount even more.
He had a bad feeling about this.
Mulder practically jumped over the patio steps and wandered around the lot, deciding to take the only course of action he knew how. "Katherine!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.
He paused for a moment, hearing a noise, only to see a woman was sticking her head out of her window to look at him. "Have you seen Katherine?" he asked.
The woman avoided his gaze, but looked at the row of houses behind his. "Thanks," he murmured, running to the next row.
"Katherine!" he screamed, looking around for a sign of anything.
"Robert?" he heard a familiar voice call softly.
He felt a surge of relief mixed with embarrassment for jumping to conclusions coarse through his veins. "Oooh, wifey's going to be in trouble," Freddy's voice behind him cooed.
Shit.
He realized in this moment he was going to have to put on a show lest Freddy tell everyone his wife was insubordinate and get them in trouble again, he couldn't let last night be for nothing. He stalked towards her, trying to mouth 'I'm sorry' the whole way there. She nodded once softly and he hoped that meant she understood this was an act.
"Where the fuck have you been?" he yelled, standing in front of her and invading her personal space.
"With my friend," she replied softly, placing her hands in front of her in a nervous, defensive pose he was happy to say he'd never seen her do before that moment. He wished he never had to see her do that.
He leaned forward, as if getting in her face, and murmured, "Pretend this hurts." Looking up, he noticed her friend was closer than he'd anticipated, and it was likely she heard what he said as she smirked in response. Hoping that Scully was being honest when she said this was a friend, he decided to ignore the implications of her being a snitch. He placed his hand on the back of Scully's neck, holding her gently while flexing his arm as if he was exuding a lot of force.
Scully played along, whimpering while hunching over slightly. He grabbed her side, gathering her dress in his fist and hoping it looked like a worse gesture than it was. He assumed they were doing a good job because Freddy was beaming enthusiastically. "I always knew you had it in you, Rob," he beamed, causing Mulder to feel like shit.
"Where's the Warren's place?" he asked.
"Over here," Freddy replied, leading the way.
Mulder quickly pressed a kiss to Scully's temple when Freddy's back was turned before pretending to drag her along. When they reached the house, the man said, "You can go now, I just needed you to locate her."
Mulder's adrenaline was still thrumming through his body and he was too wired to be away from Scully. "I need to have a moment alone with my wife after this. I think it's best if I stay," Mulder seethed convincingly, glaring at the crown of Scully's head.
"Can't argue with that," Freddy shrugged. "I'll be here."
Mulder was about to go inside with Scully before he felt her gently tug on his sleeve. He looked down and saw she was trying to tell him something without breaking the rules. He lowered his head, so his ear was next to her mouth, and she whispered, "Ask him to get our first aid kit."
"Can you run to our house, Freddy? Under our sink is a first aid kit, could you bring it to me?" Mulder asked.
The man nodded before demanding: "Wait on the porch until I get back." As he ran away, the tension dissipated, causing them both to sigh in relief.
"Did I hurt you?" he murmured quietly.
"No," she whispered back before sniffing lightly. "But what's going on? I presume we're here because of Annabelle."
"Apparently your friend Lorraine requested your help, but when Freddy went to retrieve you, you weren't at home," he explained.
"I'm sorry, another woman wanted to meet with me after seeing the bruises. I think it really helped establish trust with some of the women I haven't spoken with and helped us seem convincing to the strict women," she explained after clearing her throat.
As she did so, he caught sight of her face, which he hadn't been able to see before. "Hey," he murmured, cupping her jaw and coaxing her to look at him. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were flushed. "Scully, have you been crying?" he asked, his heart sinking in his chest.
She sniffled and shook her head, "We can talk about it later."
"Was it something the other woman said or was it something personal?" he asked, hating the fact that Scully, who was usually so stoic, had been crying so hard her face was red and blotchy.
"Mulder, I'm okay. I promise," she implored with a smile.
"I'm trusting you that you mean that," he replied, grateful she at least didn't say she was 'fine'.
"Good," she replied, her gaze immediately shooting down as Freddy bounded up the stairs behind her.
"Here's the kit, let's go in," he grumbled.
They made their way inside, and the layout of the house was very similar to their own, causing Scully to take lead and bound up the stairs. He followed her, glad when Freddy took a seat downstairs. He followed her into the child's bedroom - only able to tell it was a child's bedroom by the fact there was a child in a bed.
"Katherine," a sobbing woman sighed in relief. "I'm so glad you're here."
"What's wrong?" Scully asked, sitting on the bed next to the girl, in front of the mother kneeling at her bedside.
"Her fever's gotten worse, and she keeps trembling," Lorraine explained.
"Chills," Scully murmured.
"Hi, sweetheart," Scully beamed, turning to the girl.
The little girl made a non-committal noise that sounded like an attempt at a response, but she was too weak. The whole sight was all too evocative of Scully and Emily and Mulder felt his heart sink knowing it was likely all too fresh for her as well. He watched as Scully rolled up her sleeves, revealing her blotchy bruises.
Only, while he expected it, her friend did not.
A gasp tore from her throat as Lorraine seethed, "What did he do to you?"
"Lorraine, don't. Freddy's here," Ed warned in a hush whisper.
Lorraine turned to look at her husband, who was sitting somberly against the wall, before turning to glare daggers at Mulder. While it made him happy to see everyone who befriended Scully was furious to see her harmed, he didn't enjoy being on the receiving side of that anger. Unable to meet the woman's gaze, he looked down at his feet self-consciously. It was a weak move and he knew it, but it was punctuated by Lorraine's scoff.
"I'm fine, I'm more concerned about Annabelle right now," Scully deflected. "Can you tell me her basic information, age, height, weight, things like that?"
"She's two and a half, twenty-six pounds, and a little under three feet tall," Lorraine explained.
She was giving more information, but Mulder felt his heart stop as he focused on that one piece of information.
Three feet.
Like the grave he just dug.
His eyes darted to the little girl on the bed, her hair matted to her face with sweat as her face was ruddy. He heard Scully mention the possibility of pneumonia, that she was going to give Annabelle some antibiotics, but he knew as far as the cult was concerned: Annabelle was going to die.
"Can we take her to the hospital? There's the car used for groceries? Can't we use that?" Mulder interjected, fear poorly hidden in his tone.
Scully nodded in agreement. "It's what I would recommend. The antibiotics will only do so much, and I think her illness is too severe for them to have effect. If we don't take her to the hospital, I'm afraid-"
"No one leaves," Freddy stated firmly from the doorway, causing all four adults in the room to jump.
Mulder turned to him and seethed. "She is sick, we can't wait until it's too late."
"To die on this property would be the highest honor," Freddy snapped, causing Lorraine to sob.
Mulder turned to Scully and they shared a look.
They were running out of time.