Little Girl Lost
By suricata
"There's a dark cloud rising from the
desert floor
I packed my bags and I'm heading straight
into the storm
Gonna be a twister to blow everything down
That ain't got the faith to stand its ground
Blow away the dreams that tear you apart
Blow away the dreams that break your heart
Blow away the lies that leave you nothing but
lost and broken-hearted."
--Bruce Springsteen,
The Promised
Land
Dana threw the last
article of clothing into her duffel bag and stood, hands on her hips, looking
around the bedroom. Everything was
immaculate. To the casual eye it
seemed like the perfect apartment -- cozy and comfortable. But she knew better. The surfaces were clean because her
mother and Melissa had wiped the fingerprint powder off them. The glass coffee table had been windex'd
to within an inch of its existence.
The carpets had all been vacuumed.
Even the air was fresh. But
she could still hear the glass breaking, feel rough hands on her -- smell the
acrid scent of her own fear.
Cleaning the apartment wasn't going to get rid of that. She had to clean herself. And that wasn't going to happen
here.
The phone rang. Dana picked up her duffel and headed out
the door.
** ** X
** **
She sat in front of
Skinner's desk, hands clasped in her lap, suit carefully pressed. To the outside observer, Dana Scully was
the picture of unruffled calm. But
that calmness hid a cold, dead abyss, one that not even Skinner's impassioned
outbursts could pierce.
"I would have thought
that you'd be eager to get back to work," he said, placing two sheets of paper
flat on his desk. "Back to the
X-Files."
Dana looked at
him. Her body was so perfectly
still, it might have been carved from marble. "No sir," she said in the patient voice
of someone not willingly suffering a fool.
Skinner sighed,
steepling his fingers under his chin.
"Have you discussed this with Agent Mulder?"
Her composure didn't
crack. "No
sir."
"No. Of course you haven't. You haven't spoken to him since you left
the hospital, have you?" He didn't
wait for an answer. "Do you have
any idea what you're doing to him?"
"Begging your pardon,
sir, but I don't see as how that's any of your
business."
Skinner gave up. "What is it that you want, Agent
Scully?"
"Time," she said
flatly. "As I explained in my
request for an extended leave of absence."
She didn't look at the papers on Skinner's
desk.
He sighed. There was nothing in her request that
wasn't proper procedure, completely by-the-book, and he had no reason in the
world to deny it. Nothing but a
screaming in his gut that this was a mistake. "Four weeks. And then I expect you to report to duty
with a little more enthusiasm."
"Not the
X-Files."
"No." He shook his head, wondering how he was
going to break the news to Mulder.
Picking up the second sheet of paper, he slid it into a file box. "I will hold your request for a transfer
until you return. If you come back
and still desire it..."
"Thank you,
sir."
And the interview was
over.
That had been five days
ago. She had left Skinner's office
and gone home to pack, leaving only a brief message on her mother's answering
machine to say that she wouldn't be home for Thanksgiving. To Mulder she had said
nothing.
Only now, safely in the
mountains of Vermont, watching the snow come down, did she acknowledge the fact
that she was running. Running from
her family, the FBI, from Mulder -- and from the X- Files.
Her memories of the
abduction were hazy -- during the day.
But at night, when the cold settled into her bones, the images came at
her like a heavyweight's punch, knocking her into nightmares that woke her with
a cold sweat, a speeding pulse and a scream caught in her
throat.
She knew that Mulder
would understand. She thought he
might be able to help. She held him
responsible.
From the moment she had
woken up in the hospital, she had hated him.
Not a hot, blazing
hatred, but one that came in spurts between times of missing him intensely. She hated the fact he had been the one
to give her the piece of metal found in Duane Barry, knowing that it could put
her in danger. If he had stayed
with his cases and not brought her into any of them, she wouldn't have been put
in harm's way.
But, once more, he had
used her as a tool to find information.
And once more she had given him assistance because she cared about him,
because he was her friend. Or so
she had thought. The fact that he
could have given her a piece of evidence that he knew could hurt her seemed to
negate any feelings of friendship, or anything else for that matter.
That was what hurt the
most. Dana glanced around the
interior of her parent's cabin, unable to lose the pain inside even surrounded
by the warmth of this place. The
coldness that she had built up as protection from the nightmares had become too
much a part of herself, an extension of the professional reserve she had worked
so hard for. Once a blessing in the
face of sexist professors and, later, doubting co-workers, it now seemed to
stifle her. And yet she clung to it
like a security blanket, unable to let go.
She stared into the fire and tried to make sense of her
feelings.
She wanted desperately
to blame her partner -- her former partner -- for what had happened to her, but
a little voice in the back of her mind stopped her. Told her that Mulder hadn't known the
danger, would never have hurt her that way intentionally. That she could have walked away any time
before the X-Files were closed by requesting a transfer and afterward by simply
refusing to get involved in his cases.
Instead, she had jumped in to help him every time he needed it because he
was her friend, more than that, he was her best friend.
"If there's an iced tea
in that bag...this might be love."
She almost smiled at
the line which popped into her head.
Always trying to break a tense situation with humor, he had said it
trying to shake her out of a serious mood.
It had worked, but perhaps it was what had started her thinking about
exactly what their relationship was.
There were times before her abduction when she had thought about him as
more than just a friend, of what it might be like to get closer to him. She had even started to dream about him,
her mind casting him as a lover who took her body with a tenderness close to
reverence.
But that had been
before Duane Barry kidnapped her.
Erotic dreams about
Mulder had been replaced, the memories of her missing time coming back to
torment her in the dark of the night, leaving her shaking in her bed almost
every night.
She would wake and
automatically reach for the phone, wanting desperately to call Mulder. There were times when she needed to hear
his voice, but she would force her hand away from the receiver, cursing him for
having put her in this situation to start with. She had nowhere to turn, no one in which
to confide, and once again she would tell herself how much she hated
him.
So she was left with
the dreams, flashes of memories in dark rooms. The image of a flat circular table
criss-crossed with pale streaks of light, of restraints which weren't visible
yet which held her as strongly as steel handcuffs to the table's surface. And pain.
Scully flinched at the
thought and blinked back the memories, refusing to allow them to surface. She sat heavily in a chair beside the
fireplace and stared into the flames, making her mind a blank to the torment
inside her and the memory of Mulder.
** ** X **
**
Mulder sat alone in
his apartment, the lights turned out as he stared out the window. Scully had been out of the hospital for
over a week now and he had still had no contact with her. His calls had gone unanswered and he
hadn't had the nerve to go to her apartment and check on her.
Her rejection hurt
deeply, but in a way he could understand
it. He had been the one to
give her the piece of metal which had led Duane Barry to her, the one to put her
in danger. For that he hadn't
forgiven himself, much less expected her to forgive him.
"You're the only
one I'd put myself on the line for, Mulder."
The words were as clear
now as they were that night in the car.
He had always known that she would be there for him whenever he needed
her, even after the X‑Files had been closed, and in certain ways, he had taken
advantage of that fact. Now,
knowing that helping him had been what put her in danger just added to his
guilt. Especially
now.
He remembered going
into the hospital the night she had "returned". Seeing her there, so fragile, her only
breathing done mechanically, had torn at him. He had never felt as helpless as when he
had to stand by and watch her family turn off the respirator, not knowing
whether she would live or die, and he never wanted to be in that position
again. Her smile when he had first
gone in to see her after she woke up had been the most beautiful thing he had
ever seen, making him choke up so badly that he had to leave the room or risk
her seeing the tears in his eyes.
At first, he had been
glad Scully had taken the time off. She needed to get away from work for a
while, to heal, and he could run the X‑Files by himself until she was ready to
return. But then, this morning,
Skinner had informed him that she had also put in for a transfer, that she
wouldn't be coming back to him after all.
He had thought about
going after her, had even gone so far as to track her down. That had been no easy task. Scully had covered her tracks well,
apparently not wanting anyone to find her until she was ready to come back to
D.C.
However, once he had
accomplished it, he wasn't sure he wanted to make the trip to Vermont. He wanted to see Scully, to talk to her,
but was afraid of the reception he would get. She had gone to so much trouble to cover
her tracks, he was sure she wouldn't want unexpected company. As much as he wanted to rush up to
Vermont and drag her back, and as much as it hurt that she had made it plain by
her actions she didn't want him around, Mulder had paced his living room and
talked himself out of intruding on her privacy. But that was before her mother
called.
The shrill ring of the
phone invaded the silence of the room and Mulder picked it up. "Hello?"
"Fox?"
"Mrs. Scully?"
"Yes," Margaret Scully was obviously upset, her
voice filled with concern. "Fox,
have you heard from Dana since she left?"
"No, I haven't." It hurt just to say the words. "I haven't talked to her since she left
the hospital."
Mrs. Scully was quiet
for a moment. "She didn't come home
for Thanksgiving, Fox. She's never
cut herself off from the family on the holidays before. She called me last night, but she seemed
so distant, and she just didn't sound like herself. I'm worried about
her."
Mulder searched for
something to say, something that would help allay her fears. "She's been under a great deal of
stress, Mrs. Scully. I'm sure she's
just taking a much needed rest."
"It's not just
that. There's something wrong here,
Fox. I could hear it in her
voice. She's scared." Scully's mother was quiet for a long
moment. "I tried to talk her into
letting me come up there, but she refused.
She's being so stubborn."
Margaret Scully sounded
just like her daughter for a moment, used the same tone Dana used when she
disagreed with him, and it made him smile.
He could almost see the expression on Margaret's face, imagining it to be
the same put-out look that Dana used in such times.
"She needs someone
there with her." Mrs. Scully
continued. "Someone she
trusts." Another silence. "She needs you,
Fox."
Mulder didn't say
anything for a moment, trying to think of a reason to refuse the request he knew
was coming next.
"Will you go up and
talk to her?"
"Mrs. Scully, I don't
think..."
"Please, Fox. She needs you there to help her through
this."
"Mulder...I need your
help...Mulder!"
Mulder closed his eyes
trying to block out the memory.
What if she did need him?
Could he risk failing her again?
"All right, I'll drive
up and see how she's doing."
"Do you need
directions?"
"No. I know where she is," Mulder didn't think about what he had
said until it was too late. "I
mean..."
"It's all right." Mrs. Scully's voice was actually
approving instead of censuring.
"You were worried about her, too."
Mulder didn't
comment. "I'll have her call you
before I leave there."
"All right." Silence again. "And Fox..."
"Yes?"
"Thank
you."
Before Mulder could
reply, Mrs. Scully had hung up the phone.
Dana sat in front of
the fire with a book in her lap.
She hadn't turned a page in 15 minutes, had just stared ahead of her into
the flames, her left hand rubbing her pajama top just over her navel. She could feel the small pinkish scar on
her stomach even through the material of her night clothes and an involuntary
shudder went through her. Some
shadow of pain moved in the back of her mind and her body answered with a cramp
in her abdomen so strong that she bent over. It was gone as quickly as it hit,
leaving her to wonder if she had imagined the pain.
She closed the book and
lay it on the table beside her chair, giving up trying to concentrate on the
damn thing. She was out of the
chair and reaching to turn out the lights when she heard the knock at the
door.
"Who is
it?"
"Mulder."
Dana closed her eyes,
her fingers gripping the back of the nearest chair.
"Come on, Scully. It's cold out
here."
She walked over and
opened the door a crack, leaving the chain in place. Mulder stood on the tiny porch of the
cabin, his hands deep in his pockets.
"Hi."
Dana looked him up and
down. "What are you doing here,
Mulder?"
"Your mother called
me. She was worried about
you." He looked pointedly at the
chain on the door. "Can I come in
for just a minute?"
Dana hesitated a moment
before she shut the door and slid the chain off then opened it again to let him
inside. After Mulder walked past
her to the fire, Dana immediately shut and bolted the door again. "You said my mother called
you."
Mulder moved to the
chair she had just vacated and sat down.
"She's worried about you, Scully.
She said you didn't sound like yourself the last time she talked to
you."
He saw Dana's mouth
twist in what should have been a smile, but didn't reach her eyes. "So she asked you to come up and check
on me?"
"Yes." He watched her for a moment, noting how
pale she looked, beyond even her normal Scully-pale complexion. Her hair was limp around her face, as
though she had washed it but hadn't touched it with a brush for a while. Her eyes had none of their usual sparkle
and the hollows under her cheeks were so pronounced that he found himself
wondering if she was eating at all.
"I'm worried about you,
too, Scully."
She shot him a look
that he couldn't quite fathom. "I'm
fine, Mulder. I'm just taking a
much needed rest," she said. There
was an edge to the words that he had never heard her use before, not even in the
beginning of their partnership.
He took a deep breath
before speaking again, half afraid of the answer to his next question. "Why
haven't you returned my phone calls?"
Dana stared at him for
a long minute. "I just wasn't up to
talking to anyone."
"You look like hell,
you know."
"Careful, Mulder. You
could turn a girl's head with those kind of compliments."
"When was the last time
you had a decent meal?"
Dana shrugged. "I don't know. I ate something yesterday. I just don't have an appetite
lately."
"You need to eat
something, Scully."
Dana gave a small "huh"
and shook her head. "This from a
man who lives on sunflower seeds. I
have a mother, Mulder. I don't need another one."
Her voice was
sarcastic, even slightly cold now, and Mulder got the distinct feeling that she
wasn't telling him everything. He
pushed her. "Do you want to tell me
what happened?"
"What do you
mean?"
"You've had some
memories return, haven't you?"
Dana turned away from
him. "Stop. Just drop it."
"That's why you look
like you haven't slept in days.
You've been remembering what happened to you."
"I don't want to talk
about it, Mulder." Her voice rose
another notch in volume.
"You need to tell
someone about what happened to you.
You need help dealing with it, Scully. Let me help you." He had walked toward her and with the
last sentence placed his hand on her shoulder, stunned when she whirled on him
in anger.
"You've done enough,
haven't you?" Her eyes brimming
with angry tears, Dana lashed out at him.
"Duane Barry wouldn't have come for me if it hadn't been for that damn
piece of metal."
"Scully...I...
"
She brushed his hand
off her shoulder and turned away again, her voice shaking but not so angry this
time. "Or maybe he would have. I
don't know. That's just the only
rational explanation I can come up with.
It just makes no sense at to why he would take me and not someone
else. Someone more
accessible."
"Maybe if I had kept
it, he would have come for me instead.
I don't know, Scully. But I
never wanted any of this to happen to you."
"I know. That's what hurts the most, Mulder. I was a way for you to get
information. A tool for you to
use. The thought that you could be
putting me in danger by giving me that piece of metal probably never crossed
your mind because you were to busy searching for your
truth."
Mulder blinked back the
hurt her words caused, unable to say anything because, deep down, he knew they
were at least partially true. He
had used her to find out what the metal was, with little thought as to
what could happen to her because of it.
That fact had haunted him through the long months in which she was
missing, and would continue to weigh on his mind. He swallowed hard.
"Scully, tell me what
you remember."
For a moment he didn't
think she would answer.
"Pain."
The word seemed dragged
out of her and Mulder flinched at the sound, almost wishing he hadn't
asked.
He moved to her side,
watching her profile as she spoke.
"I was leaving a message on your machine when I heard something outside
my window, so I pulled the blinds apart to look. He was standing outside, Duane
Barry. I don't know how long he'd
been out there, but the moment he saw me, he flung his arm through the
window. I remember pieces of glass
hitting me on the chest and arms, then his foot was hitting what was left of the
glass in the frame. I tried to get out of the way, but I had stood there too
long. He was through it before I
could get away."
Scully glanced sideways
at him then turned back to stare into the flames, her arms crossed over her
chest protectively. "I didn't know
what to do, so I just kept screaming into the phone, hoping you would come in
and hear me. I knew that even if
you did, you'd never get there in time to help me, but it was all I could think
of, letting you know what was happening."
"Scully..." Mulder reached out to her, but she
backed away. "Don't. Just let me
finish." The look she gave him
pleaded for his understanding, asked him to be just a little
patient.
"The first time I woke
up, I was in the trunk of a car. It
was dark and cold, and I could smell the exhaust seeping through the carpet
under me. Barry had the radio
playing so loudly that my head hurt.
"I didn't know where we
were or how long we had been driving, but I heard sirens behind us. When the car stopped and the radio went
dead I stayed quiet for a minute. I
wasn't sure what was going on at that moment, then I heard a police officer
shouting at Barry to get out of the car.
I started kicking the side of the car so hard that the echo hurt my ears,
but I knew I had to get the attention of whoever was out there. Then I heard the
gunshot."
Scully closed her eyes and Mulder touched her
shoulder. This time she didn't move
away, but left it there. When she
looked up, there was a fresh layer of pain in her eyes.
"Barry killed that
trooper because of me. Because I
held his attention long enough for Barry to shoot him." She chewed her bottom lip nervously, a
habit Mulder hadn't noticed her doing for a while. "If I'd just stayed quiet, he might
still be alive."
"You had to take the
chance, Scully." He gave her
shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You had
no way of knowing Barry would shoot him."
"I know, Mulder, but it
doesn't help."
Scully was so quiet
for so long that he was surprised when she started speaking again. "The next time I woke up, I was on a
wide, flat table. It was black with
narrow luminescent lines running across the surface. I couldn't move, but I couldn't feel any
physical restraints either, so I don't know what was holding me down. I just know that I couldn't
move."
She flinched
involuntarily and Mulder noticed her hand go to her stomach. "They put something inside me, some kind
of probe I think, stuck it right through my stomach." She looked at Mulder and he was shocked
by the pain in her eyes. "I
couldn't scream. I tried, just to
release some of the pain, but I couldn't make a sound."
Mulder watched as her
eyes filled with tears and she blinked them back, turning toward the fire once
more. "The last thing I recall was
waking up in an all white room.
There was an orderly standing over me. I felt a sting in my upper arm then
everything went black again. I must
have drifted in and out of consciousness for days before I came to in the
hospital."
He touched her arm.
"That's all you remember?"
Scully moved away from
him slightly. "That's all I want to
remember, Mulder." She turned her
back to him and looked out to window at the rapidly falling snow outside the
cabin. He saw her hands clench
behind her back, but didn't think she was aware of doing it. "I can't face any more right now. Not even for you."
Mulder closed his eyes
and tried to fight down the feeling or helplessness in his chest. "I'm sorry, Dana. If I hadn't given you that piece of
metal..."
"It's over. I just want to get on with my
life."
"That's why you put in
for a transfer."
Dana looked
surprised.
"How...?"
"Skinner told me this
morning. That's another reason I
came up here, to try to talk you into coming back to the X-Files." She started to say something but he held
up his hand. "I'm not going to try
and talk you out of the transfer now.
If you change your mind, then I'll thank whatever powers that be, but if
not, I want you to know that I understand your reasons."
Dana looked
relieved. "Thank you,
Mulder."
He looked down at his
hands, which were clenched in front of him. "I never meant for any of this to
happen, Scully. I never wanted you
to be hurt because of my actions."
She didn't say a word,
just waited for him to look up then nodded.
Mulder moved toward the
door, gathering his coat from the arm of a chair on the way, but Dana stopped
him before he could open the door.
"Why don't you stay
here tonight. It's snowing heavily
and you have a long drive back. You
can sleep on the couch."
"Are you sure?" Mulder looked at her, uncertain whether
she meant the offer.
Dana nodded. "I'll grab
some blankets and a pillow."
Moments later, Mulder
was bedded down on the couch as Dana flipped out the lights. He buried his face in the pillow she had
given him, the faint smell of her still lingering in the bedding. He closed his eyes, but the action did
nothing to block out the sight of the pain on her face as she had told him what
happened to her. He knew he would
never get the image out of his head.
Mulder put a hand over his eyes and once again cursed his photographic
memory.
It seemed that he had
just drifted off to sleep when he first heard the sounds from the bedroom. Muffled noises came out of the room and
sent a cold shill down his spine.
Automatically, Mulder reached for his gun and slipped it from the
holster. Dana's bedroom door was
closed and he hesitated a moment before trying the knob. The door opened to reveal her sitting
up, leaning against the headboard.
Her shoulders were shaking and she was huddled into a ball.
"Scully, are you
okay?"
He could barely see her
in the dim light of the room, but he thought she nodded.
"I'm fine." Her voice was hoarse, broken and he
started to approach, but she waved him away. "Just go back to sleep,
Mulder."
He started to move away
when he heard her catch her breath in a low sob, the sound so muffled he knew
she had tried to hide it. He
glanced back toward the bed and only hesitated a moment before making up his
mind.
It took two steps to
get to the bed and he laid his hand on her shoulder. "Scully...I'm
sorry."
He didn't know what to
say, and that damned phrase seemed so inadequate, but it was all he had. He felt her hand reach up and squeeze
his then he sat down beside her, an ache building in his chest as she looked up
at him. There was enough light in
the room to see this close up, and he suddenly wished it were darker. The pain reflected in her face cut him
to the core. It hurt so much when
someone you loved was in pain and there was nothing you could do, and Mulder was
honest enough with himself in that moment to acknowledge that he loved Dana
Scully. If he could take her pain
away, he would, no matter the cost to himself.
He reached up to brush
a strand of hair away from her cheek and saw her eyes fill with tears. "Dana..." he said the word on a whisper and she
moved into his outstretched arms, crying softly. He let her cry, feeling her body shaking
against him, and held her as though she were made of glass, the most precious
thing on earth to him. Long after
the last of her tears were shed, she stayed there in his arms, her hand creeping
up to lay against his neck, fingers soft against his throat.
Dana didn't know
exactly when the atmosphere changed from one of him comforting her to one very
different. The pulse point at the
base of his throat beat strongly against her fingertips and she could hear the
steady beat of his heart under her ear.
Cautiously, she looked up into Mulder's face, not knowing exactly what
she expected, but surprised to see how dark his eyes had gotten. The desire she saw there entranced her
and she raised her hand to his face, placing her fingertips along his
cheek. A flash of heat shot through
her when Mulder turned his head to the side and placed a warm kiss in the center
of her palm, his eyes never leaving hers.
Dana closed her eyes,
mind and body at war. This was what
she had wanted, for longer than she cared to admit. It felt so right, there in his
arms. It felt safe, and she wanted
nothing more than to burrow into that safety and never come out. Then his arms tightened around her, and
the tiny voice in the back of her lizard brain exploded into full alert. Breaking out of his embrace, she
scooted to the other side of the wide four-poster, arms crossed over her knees
defensively. Her head hurt, a sharp
pounding in her brain that wouldn't stop but still couldn't block the pictures
trying to overwhelm her.
"Scully?" He sounded hurt, but she was beyond
caring. Eyes wide, she stared
somewhere at something he couldn't see.
"Scully, what is
it? What's wrong?" Mulder started to move closer to her,
then stopped. Something had
frightened her, and the only thing he could think of was his presence. Moving slowly, he backed towards the
door. "I'll be just outside,
Scully. If you want to come and
talk, I'll be right here." He knew,
watching her curled up like a lost kitten, that he wouldn't be going home in the
morning. Something was wrong here,
something beyond the trust he had unthinkingly fractured, and he would be damned
if he'd leave her now.
She felt him leaving
the room, and part of her cried out for the loss of that warmth, that
security. But another part of her
cowered in the corner of that cold white room, angry and afraid, and wanted only
to be left alone.
** ** X
** **
Mulder woke to the
sound of water running. He lay on
the uncomfortable sofa and stared at the ceiling. He had waited for hours, hoping against
hope that Scully would come to him.
But she had remained in her bedroom, silent as death. His mind shied away from the simile, but
the fact remained. She hadn't moved
from the position he had left her in, at least not until after sleep had finally
claimed him.
Now, in the faint
morning light, he reviewed the situation, trying to force his mind to work with
the facts, not his jumbled emotions.
The facts, simply put, were A) that Scully didn't want him here, but B)
she needed him. Otherwise she would
just withdraw into herself even further.
So he would be staying. A +
B = C. Easy enough.
Convincing her this was
a good idea was going to be the tricky part.
Groaning, he eased his
body off the sofa and grabbed his sweater off the chair. "Hey Scully, where's the heat in this
place? You were maybe expecting
polar bears?"
Standing in the shower,
Dana tuned out all noises except the falling water. The steam rising around her soothed sore
muscles, relieving some of the tension she lived with constantly. She knew it was foolish -- they were
done with her. They wouldn't be
coming back. But she still looked
over her shoulder so many times she felt as though there was a permanent hinge
in her neck. Handy in a
stakeout she thought to herself, head bowed to let the water slick over
her. Just call me owl-head.
She ran the soap over her
body, unconsciously avoiding the patches of scar tissue, and rinsed one final
time. Turning off the water, she
reached though the curtain for the towel.
Her groping hand passed over the leather of her holster, stuffed between
the wall and the towel rack, and settled on the thick terry material.
Drying off, she could hear the sounds of
Mulder rummaging though the kitchen.
"Hey, Scully, you leave me any hot water?" he yelled through the
door. The thought of Mulder in
there, sharing the steamy air, brought a prickle to Dana's skin that had nothing
to do with the temperature outside.
She closed her eyes, remembering the scene last night, and decided to
stay in the bathroom indefinitely.
He'd have to leave eventually -- there wasn't any coffee in the cabin,
and she'd yet to see Mulder get a coherent sentence out without a cup to
jumpstart him. She could change the
locks then. And this time she
wouldn't let him back in.
Dana knew there were things going on that she
had to deal with, she just wanted to deal with them her way, in her own
time. And she wouldn't be able to
do that with Mulder hovering, feeding her anger at the same time he made her
want to erase that guilt from his eyes and replace it with the passion she had
sensed last night.
"He makes me crazy" she
said to her reflection. "Absolutely
crazy."
"Scully? You alive in there? Where'd you hide the
coffee?"
She couldn't help
it. The first snort of laughter
escaped, and then it became a flood of giggles, making her sink to the tile
floor and convulse with laughter.
The door opened slowly,
and Mulder stuck his head around.
"Scully?"
Then he saw her on the
floor, wrapped in a towel that barely covered her, hands over her mouth and a
tiny glimmer of glee in her eyes.
"Was it something I said?"
She lost it again, the
laughter bordering on hysterics.
"Go away, Mulder" she managed finally, waving him off. The towel slipped a little, and Mulder
backed off quickly, closing the door behind him before she realized how much
damp skin was showing.
"We're going out for
breakfast" he told her through the closed door, his voice sounding strained to
his own ears. "So hurry up and get
dressed, before I starve to death."
** ** X
** **
Mulder sat back in the
booth at the local Dunkin' Donuts and watched Scully pick at her croissant. She was twitchy as a republican under
indictment, shredding her food rather than eating it. "If this is how you've been eating," he
scolded her, "I'm going to have to tie you down and feed you by hand. And that could get messy." She smiled, but it was a pared-down
version of her usual smile, and did nothing to lift the fear that had been
clogging his chest since he saw her last night by the light of the fire, looking
so abandoned, even though it had been Scully who had done the
abandoning.
That moment of laughter
in the bathroom might as well never have been, she changed moods so
rapidly. One minute she was cool
and remote, the next clinging to him, the next... It was giving him a headache behind the
eyes, trying to keep up. Right now,
he was sure, she was counting the moments until she could get rid of him. He hadn't broken it to her yet that he
was there for the duration.
"Mulder." Her voice was quiet, but it broke
through his preoccupation immediately.
"Yeah?"
She swallowed
once. "Do you..." she started
again. "Do you have any vacation
time you could take? Just, just for
a while?" She didn't look at him,
instead concentrating on rearranging the shreds of pastry left on her
plate. He reached over and took her
hands between his own, the fear melting away to be replaced by a terrifying sort
of joy. "As much time as you
need."
Dana felt the tears
start. This time, she didn't try to
stop them.
"Scully." The hands around hers tightened until
she looked up at him. "I love
you." He grinned, that little-boy
grin that had been the only thing worth seeing when she had let Nurse Owens talk
her into returning to the outside world.
"This wasn't exactly the place I'd planned to tell you," and he cast a
wry grin around the deserted storefront, "but I never was much on timing,
anyway."
She stared at him,
mouth open. He freed one hand and
lifted it to her chin, closing her mouth gently. "I just wanted you to
know."
At his words, and more,
at the tenderness with which they were said, the calmness she had cultivated as
protection, the facade that had cracked when she first saw him standing in her
doorway, crumbled completely, and she couldn't bear it.
"Get me out of here"
she said in a harsh whisper, the panic showing in her eyes. "Now."
Mulder heard the
urgency in her voice and wasted no time, pulling her out of the booth and
half-carrying her to the door. She
made it to the recently-shoveled path, and then her body turned traitor on her,
crumpling into Mulder's arms. He
scooped her up, barely missing a beat, and carried her to the security of the
4-wheel drive vehicle he had rented in D.C. after hearing the latest weather
report for Vermont. Making sure
that she was securely fastened, Mulder got in on the driver's side and started
the car, breaking all speed limits and safety considerations to get her
home.
** ** X
** **
Mulder cupped his hands
around the steaming mug and breathed in the scent of chocolate floating up. Six days without coffee, and he was
still able to function. He wouldn't
have believed it. But there hadn't
been a chance to get into town and buy supplies. Scully wasn't up to the trip, and he
wouldn't leave her alone for even the hour such a trip would
take.
She came out of the
bedroom just then, as though his thoughts had called her. Wearing a worn sweatshirt and jeans, she
looked more like a college student than anything else. Then he read the slogan on the
sweatshirt and almost choked. "You
don't know me -- Federal Witness Protection Plan," he read in
disbelief.
"Yeah." Dana sounded resigned. "My baby brother has an odd sense of
humor. He got it for me my first
Christmas working for the Bureau."
Her smile was a little
more relaxed now, her posture less tense.
She still wouldn't tell him what memories were coming back, but she let
him hold her through the worst of the nightmares, and that seemed to help. He had let her set the pace for the
first week, never asking for more than she was willing to give. Now it was time to push a
little.
"Come here," he said,
patting the sofa next to him. She
sat obediently, and he took the brush from her hand. Settling her comfortably, he ran the
brush gently though her hair, occasionally putting it down to untangle the
threads with his fingers. He took
those chances to memorize the texture of her hair, the scent of her shampoo,
caressing her until he could feel the tension leave her body completely.
"Talk to me," he said,
pulling the brush through now-smooth hair with mesmerizing slowness. "Talk to me,
Dana."
She knew what he
wanted. "I'm in a room. They put me there after -- after the
probe. It's
white...cold. I know that there's a
door, but I can't find it. I
can't... People come in and
out. They talk to each other, not
to me. It's like I'm not even
there. I lie there and wait for
them to notice me. I'm not
afraid... not anymore. But it
hurts, Mulder. It hurts so badly I
want to go away someplace where it won't hurt anymore. So when they give me a shot that makes
me sleep, I just let go."
Mulder continued
brushing, even though her hair was smooth as silk by now. "Where did you go?"
"There was water, and
trees. I've been there before, but
I can't remember when. There isn't
anyone around. It's so quiet, so
peaceful. I never wanted to
leave. I really resented her
telling me I had to."
Mulder was startled,
but didn't let his body react.
"Her, who?"
"Nurse Owens. Only there isn't any Nurse Owens. She kept talking to me, telling me I had
to go back. But I wasn't going
to. I could hear everyone, but it
was so far away, and the water was so peaceful. And then." Dana stopped. "I wanted to go with him, but he walked
away, and I couldn't follow. They
wouldn't let me go with him."
Mulder put the brush
down and caressed her arms gently.
He didn't have to ask who "him" was. "We're glad you came back," he said
softly, letting his breath warm her neck, then moved away, careful not to crowd
her. He'd already noted that close
contact seemed to trigger something painful in her memories, so he tried to keep
a few inches of space between them at all times. It was difficult, when all he wanted was
to feel her skin against his, taste the life flowing through her, and reassure
himself that she was still there, still with him.
He'd worried, at first,
that he was projecting his feelings about Samantha onto Scully, letting her take
the brunt of his emotions.