By Polly
Polly122456@yahoo.com
 

WEBSITE: http://polly403.tripod.com/
SPOILERS: Irresistible, Aubrey; tiny ones for The
Pilot, One Breath, Nisei, 731, Memento Mori
CATEGORY: Mulder POV; post-Irresistible
RATING: PG
DISCLAIMER: Much to my chagrin, everything belongs to
Carter, 1013, and FOX
ARCHIVE: Be my guest.
FEEDBACK:  Always appreciated
THANKS:  To all those who continue to encourage me to
write and to Jenna for creating a place for my fic to
reside; Jenna - you're the best!
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Written for the Irresistible post-
episode challenge at After-The-Fact (a little late)
SUMMARY:  "It never occurred to me that the real
danger would come from something far worse: an
unremarkable, ordinary man who turned into a
monster."

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *
 
~ Begin the procedure ~ We'll be together again,
Starbuck, but not now ~ Would you say your hair is
normal or dry ~ The tests are hardest the first time,
Dana ~ Somebody's gotta take the blame, little sister
~ If you're having trouble with this case, Scully, I
want you to tell me ~ My life felt as if it had been
the length of one breath ~ I trust him as much as
anyone; I'd trust him with my life ~ There's no way
out, girly girl ~

"Nooooooooooooooooo!"

*   *   *   *   *   *

You sleep with the TV on because you need the noise
to keep you company, to keep the monsters at bay. The
cacophony drowns out the silence so you can find
dreamless slumber, snoring your way through gunshots,
car chases, laugh tracks, and bloodcurdling screams.
And I usually do.  It's the silence that wakes me up.

But not tonight.  This was different. This
bloodcurdling scream permeated my soul and chilled me
all the way to my spine.

My eyes flew open and it only took me a second to get
my bearings.  My legs momentarily tangled in the
blanket, but I was off the couch in an instant,
grabbing my gun as I bounded toward her bedroom.  In
retrospect, I don't know why I picked up the Sig.
Maybe I thought all I'd have to do was wave it
officially in the air and the demons would be driven
away.  I'm surprised I didn't grab my badge as well.

She'd left the bedroom door open, the streetlights
just outside her window casting the room in eerie
shadows.  But there was enough light for me to see
her clearly.  She was sitting bolt upright in bed,
her arms circled around herself, screaming as loudly
as her lungs would allow.

"Noooooo!  Get away from me!  Don't touch me!
Mulder, get them away from me!"

I tossed the gun on the floor and was beside her in
two steps.  "Scully, wake up."  I put my hands on her
shoulders and shook her gently.  "Wake up, I'm here.
You're safe.  It's just a dream."

Another gentle shake and the screaming stopped.  I
tilted her chin upward so she could see me; and after
a few moments, recognition finally set in.

"It's okay," I said softly.  "You're okay.  It was
only a dream."

Her arms suddenly snaked around my waist and she
sobbed.  She clung to me as tightly as she had when
we'd found her with Pfaster, maybe even tighter, and
didn't let go when I sat down on the edge of the bed
and placed my arms around her.  "Oh, God, Mulder,
they were touching me and I begged them to stop.  I
called for you and they told me you were dead."

They?

"I'm fine.  I'm right here.  Pfaster's locked up,
Scully.  He can't hurt you anymore."

I stroked her hair and let her sob into my shoulder,
grateful that she wasn't holding back, wasn't
shutting down.  In Minneapolis she had cried in my
arms for a few moments, but quickly pulled herself
together, wiping away her tears before anyone else
could see. I could kick Captain Ahab for instilling
in her so thoroughly the importance of always being
the brave little soldier - sailor - whatever.

'I'm fine' she told me repeatedly that night, and
unfortunately the paramedics agreed, vetoing my
insistence that she go to the hospital.  Her injuries
were superficial, they said; cuts and bruises that
would heal quickly.  Just like Scully to keep the
real scars hidden where no one would be able to see.

With a night in the hospital out of the question, I
lobbied for a hotel room.  'You need to rest,' I told
her.  'We'll get a flight out tomorrow or the next
day.'

But she flatly refused, wanting to put as many miles
between herself and Pfaster as quickly as she could.
I didn't blame her, really. We couldn't get out of
Minnesota fast enough for me.

I'd wangled the football tickets so this weekend
could be our first 'date.'  After a day of easy
companionship watching the 'Skins and the Vikings, I
had planned to tell her all the things I promised
myself I would if I ever got the chance.  All the
things I had figured out during the three months she
was missing - how much I cared for her, how important
she was to me, how I needed her as much as I needed
air to breathe.  I knew she might not feel the same,
and that perhaps I was risking our professional
relationship, but I knew I had to do it.  The weekend
in the Twin Cities seemed just the right time.

But Donnie Pfaster had put my plans for declarations
of love and devotion on hold indefinitely.  God knows
when, or if, I would work up the courage to try
again.

So we stopped by the FBI field office long enough to
file our reports and pick up her luggage that was
retrieved from the smashed rental car.  Then we sat
in the airport, side by side in silence, until we
caught a nonstop flight for home at 6:05 a.m.  But
the fates still conspired against us, and our plane
was grounded in Columbus due to engine trouble.  We
finally reached the safe haven of Scully's apartment
at just past eight that evening. We were both
exhausted, so she didn't argue when I said I was
spending the night on her couch.  She probably
figured she'd have more strength to chase me off in
the morning.

The LCD display on the clock by her bed read 3:16
a.m. when her sobs finally turned to little hiccups.
Her arms relaxed, so I brought my hands up to cup her
face, using my thumbs to wipe away the tears that
lingered on her cheeks.  "I'm going to get you some
water," I said, figuring I should give her a moment
alone.

When I returned, Dixie cup in hand (I marveled that
anyone really kept those dispensers in their
bathroom), she was sitting just as I'd left her,
dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.  The hiccups had
subsided, but I handed her the cup as I sat back down
on the edge of the bed.

"Here, drink this.  It'll make you feel better."

She nodded numbly and took a few sips of the water,
then handed the cup back to me.  "Thank you."

I sat the cup on the nightstand and took her hands
between mine.  They were like ice.  "Would you like
me to make you some tea?  Maybe that would help you
sleep."

"I'm fine, Mulder.  I'm sorry I woke you."

"You didn't," I lied.  "I was watching a movie."

"You can't get comfortable on that sofa."  She
absently stroked my knuckles with her thumb.  "I wish
you'd go home so you can get some rest.  I'll be
fine."

"I'm staying here.  And that's final."

She smiled weakly and her eyes met mine.  They looked
misty gray in the muted darkness.  "All right.  Just
for tonight, because it's late.  But you have to
promise me you'll go home in the morning."

I shook my head.  "No can do.  You're not getting rid
of me that easily."

"Mulder, I will be fine.  I don't need you to stay
here and hold my hand."

I squeezed her fingers and smiled.  "Maybe I need you
to hold mine."

Another small smile and she squeezed back, then
reached over to turn on the lamp.  "I just need a few
days, Mulder.  You need to get back to work."

"I can't, Scully."  I started to fiddle with a loose
thread on her comforter.

"Mulder, we're not going to argue about this."

"Scully, I *can't.*"

"Mulder, what aren't you telling me?"

I had a hard time getting the words out.  "I ... I
got suspended."

"Suspended?  Why?  For what?"

I couldn't look her in the eye as I explained.  "I
went back to question Pfaster while the paramedics
were checking you out ..."

She nodded and waited for me to go on.

"And I also tried to beat the crap out of him.  Bocks
and a couple of other agents pulled me off before I
could do as much damage as I would have liked."

"Oh, Mulder."  She pulled me into an embrace and I
rested my head in the crook of her neck.

"I know Bocks didn't want to report it.   He figured
Pfaster had that coming and more, but he had to cover
his own ass.  Skinner reamed me out over the phone
before we left Minneapolis."

What I didn't tell her was that Skinner wasn't really
concerned about disciplining a hothead Agent.  He was
concerned for my sanity and my ability to do my job
objectively.  He knew I had tried to kill two men
with my bare hands within the course of a few months
- both for the same reason.  I lost control with
Duane Barry, but I *wanted* to kill Donnie Pfaster.
I still did.  I wanted to beat him to a pulp and
start hacking pieces off of him, just like he'd done
to those other girls, just like he planned to do to
Scully.  It made me shiver to realize how close I'd
come to losing her again.

Since she was returned, I worried about protecting
her from shadow conspiracies and unseen aliens.  It
never occurred to me that the real danger would come
from something far worse: an unremarkable, ordinary
man who turned into a monster.

"Two weeks suspension without pay and mandatory
counseling," I continued.  "I have an appointment
with somebody named Kosseff tomorrow."

She chuckled and the rush of air tickled my ear.
"What's so funny?" I asked.  "You know how I feel
about talking to Bureau shrinks."

She pulled out of our embrace and lowered her eyes.
"There's something I've been keeping from you too,
Mulder.  Karen Kosseff isn't a psychiatrist.  She's a
licensed clinical social worker with the Employee
Assistance Program.  I know that because ... because
I talked to her while you were in Minneapolis.  You
were right about this case.  It *was* bothering me."
She finally looked up at me.  "I just couldn't admit
it."

"Scully, I told you ..."

"I know you did."  She swallowed hard and blinked
away the tears that were threatening again.  "But
since I returned to work I've been trying so hard to
prove to everyone, including myself, that I was able
to do my job.  It's hard enough for a woman in the
Bureau, and I didn't want to admit to anyone,
especially you, that this case made me feel
vulnerable.  I talked to Karen because I've lost
faith in myself and my abilities and I'm trying to
get that back.  I didn't tell you because I don't
want you to feel that you have to protect me."

"But I do feel that way, Scully.  Not because of what
happened to you, or because you're a woman, but
because you're my partner."  I took her hand in mine
again.  "And if you've lost your faith in yourself
for a little while, don't worry.  I have enough faith
in you for both of us.  That'll be enough until you
get yours back.  One day you can return the favor."

She sniffled and the words came out in a whisper.
"But I don't want you to think that you can't depend
on me when the chips are down.  I don't want you to
see me as the weak link in our partnership."

"Weak?"  I smiled in the most reassuring way I know
how.  "Scully, you are the strongest person I know."

A single tear rolled down her cheek and splashed on
our clasped hands.  "I don't feel very strong right
now.  Sitting here shaking and crying because of a
... because of a ..."

"It was only a dream, Scully."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

I shook my head.  "I don't understand."

She wiped her nose with the tissues wadded up in her
hand.  "A few weeks ago, you said that dreams are
answers to questions we haven't yet figured out how
to ask."

I nodded and waited, giving her all the time she
needed.  "The dream I had tonight ... the nightmare.
It was like a series of unrelated images flashing
before my eyes.  I saw Pfaster, Harry Cokely, I even
saw you and my father.  But there were other things
that didn't make any sense.  I couldn't so much see
them as I could feel them.  Men standing over me.
And a woman holding my hand."

"And you think there's an answer for you in that
dream?"

Another tear spilled out, but she wiped it away
quickly.  "I think I'm starting to remember what
happened to me when I was abducted."

I sighed and ran my thumb lightly over hers.  "Don't
you want to remember?"

"I don't know."  It was an honest answer.  "I don't
know if I'm ready to face what happened to me."

"I think you'll know when you're ready," I said.
"And whenever that time comes, I'll be right there
beside you.  We'll face it together.  Okay?"

She nodded slightly, but I could tell she was
unconvinced.

"You've been through a lot in a very short time,
Scully.  Nobody expects you to bounce back
overnight."

"I expect it."

"I should have known that anyone who rewrites
Einstein would be an overachiever."

The short burst of laughter was like music to my
ears.  I pushed her hair away from her eyes and
looked deeply into those azure pools.

"This was just a temporary setback, Scully.  I know
you're a very private person, but please promise me
that this time you won't keep these feelings inside.
That you'll talk to me, your mother, your sister,
this EAP person - whoever you need to *if* you need
to."

I straightened the pillows behind her, then guided
her back until her hair cascaded across the crisp
striped fabric.  I clicked off the lamp before
pulling the covers up to her shoulders.  "Strong
people know when they need help and they aren't
ashamed to ask for it, Scully.  And despite how
you're feeling right now, you *are* a very strong
person.  Believe it."

She managed a sad smile and I leaned down to kiss her
forehead.  "We'll talk more in the morning.
Goodnight, Scully."

As I stood up and turned to go she reached out and
took my hand.  "Can I start right now?  Asking for
your help?"

"Name it."

"I don't want to be alone.  Will you stay in here
with me?"

I smiled and squeezed her fingers.  "I'll be right
back."

A few minutes later, service weapon reholstered and
TV turned off, I returned to the bedroom bearing the
blanket and pillow I'd been using on the sofa.  I
smoothed out the comforter and lay down beside her,
then draped the blanket over my feet.

I confess that I've dreamed about sharing a bed with
Dana Scully.  In my dreams, her satin pajamas and my
sweat pants and tee shirt are usually already in a
heap on the floor, and we're both under the covers -
or at least we end up that way.  But when she reached
over and took my hand, I discovered what true
intimacy was.

"Thank you, Mulder."

"For what?"

"For giving me back my faith."

Her breathing soon turned deep and even, and I kept
waiting for her fingers to release from mine, but
they didn't.  Somehow I knew I wouldn't need the TV
on tonight.  The monsters would be kept at bay - for
both of us - because we were here together.
Protecting each other.

Faith restored.
 

The End

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *