A/N: This story just kind of... became something else. I thought I had a plan. Apparently, I did not have the right one. So, um... you're getting the right one now. I think I have to get it out of my system or something. I've written it before, but never posted it and never had anyone else read it. Hate it or date it, I don't care. Actually, I do. My brother really hates this idea, and I am still doing it. Just know this is a little teeny bit farfetched for me. But it won't go away. Look for a twist in the next few chapters.

I'll be by your side whenever you fall, in the dead of night, whenever you call, and please don't fight these hands that are holding you. My hands are holding you. - Tenth Avenue North

Mulder thought that upon their return to DC, Scully would retreat back into her shell, construct her walls again, and come into the office on Monday like nothing had ever happened. That's what she always did. He never expected her to deviate from the norm and ask him to stay with her.

It actually wasn't so much asking as it was looking at him with those big blue eyes and keeping a tight grip on his hand. He simply nodded and kicked his shoes off. He didn't mind staying or taking care of her, but he didn't want her to lose her independence. He didn't want her to lose herself.

They spent the evening sitting on the couch channel surfing simply because neither of them could think of anything better to do. They sat closer than normal, and he could feel the tension radiating off of her. She was scared.

Her movements were guarded, she jumped at loud noises, and she was still scared of the dark. He was worried that this time had pushed her over that edge. This time, she might not be able to deal. This time, the bad guy might win.

"Scully?" he started, sliding his arm around her shoulders.

"Yeah?"

"You're going to be okay, right?"

"I'm fine, Mulder," she answered moving just a bit away from him.

"No you're not. You're-"

"Don't tell me what I am, okay? If you knew what happened Mulder you might just.... you'd....maybe everything wouldn't be.... look, this isn't like other times, okay?" she shouted, standing up from the couch. "I can't just move on from this one."

"Scully, you have to. Deal with it and accept it, but rise above it. If you don't you're letting him win."

"Don't give me that crap, Mulder. I got away. I win. That's the end. Now let me do this my own way."

"Your own way is to not do anything. I'm not going to sit here and let you whimper like a kicked puppy for the rest of your life. That's not you. You're a fighter. You're better than this."

"Stop coddling me! Just stop! I can't take it anymore. Be there for me if you want, but stay out of my business!"

He cursed and threw the TV guide onto the coffee table as he stood up.

"What am I here for then? If you don't trust me enough to tell me things, then all I am is a warm body to make sure your lamp doesn't burn out in the middle of the night. Is that what you need?"

"That's not fair!"

"Yes it is, Scully. You've given up. I hate that you've done that. I hate that I can look right at you and not see you. I hate that you're hiding. I hate that I hate it because you don't need me mad at you right now, but Scully I swear, if I knew to do anything else, I would. I love you, but I can't watch this anymore. You're breaking my heart."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth he regretted them. She didn't need more guilt or anger or pain right now. He watched as her face twisted and her legs gave out and she sunk to the floor. Her hands flew up to her face and she tried to hide from him as the sobs started. His stomach clenched and he couldn't move. What had he done? Years of trust were gone. Gone at the time she needed it the most.

He was the most horrible person in the world, possibly worse than the man that had done this to her.

"Scully," he whispered, crouching down next to her and reaching for her hand. She yanked it away and for a moment he was afraid she was going to hit him.

"Don't touch me," she sobbed, moving as far away from him as she could before running into the wall.

She was scared of him. He'd never seen her like this before. He swallowed the sob that rose in his own throat.

"Scully," he started again, reminding himself not to touch her, no matter how much he wanted to.

"Don't yell at me!" she growled, her eyes snapping up to meet his, flashing with anger for a moment before the hurt came back. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

"No Scully, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be yelling at you. You did nothing wrong sweetheart. Please don't be afraid. I won't hurt you."

She continued to cry, but she did lift her head just a little. He reached his hand out slowly hoping she would accept it. Slowly, slowly his fingers crept closer until they landed on her shoulder. She flinched, but didn't move away.

"Scully."

"Please don't yell at me," she whispered. "Don't be mad. I'm sorry."

He finally got close enough that he could put his arms around her.

"I'm not mad, Scully. I'm scared for you, and I'm confused, and I'm frustrated that I can't fix it. But I'm not mad. Not at you. I won't yell anymore."

He felt like he was talking to a small child, but that's just how it came out.

"He yelled a lot, Mulder. He screamed at me and hit me and then he was sorry. He was so loud and I just... I just... I can't do this anymore."

"Do what?"

"Think. Talk. I just want to forget it all."

He didn't know what to say, so he just held her.

The night terrors started that night. Scully had held onto Mulder, practically begging him not to leave her, and feeling guilty about before, he aborted his tough love plan and lay down with her. It took over an hour of soft talking and reassurances, but she finally surrendered to sleep. He watched her in the lamplight, wishing things were different. Wishing she could feel free, at least in her sleep if nothing else. She was so fragile in his arms. She was a fighter, but once Gavin had gotten inside her mind, it was no wonder she felt this way.

She'd been asleep for less than an hour when her breathing changed. It became erratic and loud and she soon started to whimper.

"Scully, wake up," Mulder said, brushing her hair from her face. She continued to squirm under his hands, her breathing becoming panicky.

"No!" she shouted finally, pushing him away with a strength he did not expect from her. It stunned him for a moment, but he was pulled back into reality when he felt her fists coming down on his chest.

"Scully, it's me," he hollered, trying to get a hold of her shoulders. She fought him harder, punching blindly and managing to get a few kicks in as well. He struggled to hold her down, worried about her own safety rather than his own. She was crying now, in terror more than anything else, and he knew he had to get her out of this. It wasn't good for her, and waking up suddenly would be better than dreaming like this.

He held her as tightly as he could, one arm around her chest, and both of his legs holding down her smaller ones. She managed to bite his hand before he reached the cup of water and splashed a few tablespoons in her face. She woke with a loud gasp and he loosened his hold on her.

She blinked a few times, then shot up from the bed and ran into the other room. He could hear her getting sick, heaving so hard she could barely breathe. He stood from the bed and went to her, his heart clenching at what he found. She was curled up on the bathmat, her arms around her stomach. She was sobbing for all she was worth, her body shaking to the point that her knees were clacking together.

He took the towel off the rack and crouched down beside her, wiping her face gently. He couldn't keep up with the tears though, so he opted for pulling her into his lap and letting her cry into his shirt. He didn't even realize he was humming until her sobs slowed and he could hear himself.

"Why me, Mulder?" she croaked as he kissed the top of her head.

"I don't know, sweetheart."

The answer wasn't good enough, but it was all he had. It was all he ever had, and he wasn't sure the future held anything more.