Date: Sat, 6 Nov 1999 01:03:57 -0400 Subject: Fanfics Source: direct Title: Beautiful Fear Author: Leigh Neville Genre: MSR, Scully angst Rating: NC-13 for language Spoilers: Mainly Triangle, with a light sprinkling of Fight the Future and The Beginning. Summary: Scully faces some emotional turmoil after Mulder's statement at the end of Triangle. Takes place after the episode, before Dreamland eps. Disclaimer: I don't own Mulder or Scully, except in my dreams. Wouldn't you just love to be Chris Carter?! Dedication: Ummm, to me I think, as I am such a Scully!!! No, if my best friend likes it - which I hope she does - she can have it. xXx Scully threw her keys and bag down on the side and continued to her settee. With a tired and frustrated sigh, she collapsed into the chair and leant her head back, closing her eyes. She lifted her hand to her face and lazily rubbed her forehead. Oh man, have I got a headache she thought. Forcing herself up off the settee, she slowly walked to her bedroom. There she went to her bed-side table where a pot of paracetamol sat invitingly. Sitting down on the edge of her bed, she tipped two of the tablets out into her hand and swallowed them, thanking God for the guy who invented pain relief. I should get up she told herself. A wave of tiredness splashed over her body in rebuke, declaring it's refusal to comply. She lay back heavily on her bed, her legs still dangling off the side of it. The last couple of days had taken their toll. After turning up for work, she discovered that Mulder hadn't, before being told that he was stuck out in the Atlantic Ocean in search of some 1939 cruise-liner. Idiot. Then, whilst trying to get the information to help him, she'd discovered that Kersch, Spender and - most likely - that bitch, Fowley, were all working against them with the cigarette smoking man. Fortunately Skinner was still loyal and off she went, with the Lone Gunmen in tow, to Bermuda. There they had found him, face-down in the sea - thank you Mulder, for making me a nervous wreck, ONCE AGAIN- before, like the absolute asshole that he is, he told her that he loved her. Bastard! Git! Asshole! she angrily spat out into her train of thoughts. Then she softened, letting out a slow listless sigh as she squeezed her eyes shut - half to close the world out and half to stop the tears from forming. Why do you feel like this? she silently asked herself. All he did was say 'I love you' and that's not something bad. In fact, *rationally*, it was incredibly nice to hear, especially when the man saying it to me was the man I love. I liked hearing it. Hell, I *loved* hearing it! But... The gentle smile which had slowly formed disappeared as quickly as her eyes opened. She dropped her head to the side, so she was looking across the room, her chin resting on her right shoulder. A tear fell out of her eye and dropped to the bed below it. But I want him to say it when he isn't in a drug-induced state. I want him to say it when he's not in a non-serious frame of mind. I want him to say it and be able to know that he's deadly sure - and completely aware - of what he's saying. If only I had that certainty, but I don't. He drags me along, convincing me of love and then throws it back in my face. Before my excursion to Antartica, he told me he loved me - we almost kissed - but when we got back, outside that dead guy's house, he just crushed any new confidence in "us" that I had gained. He'll wave a carrot in front of me, only to snatch it away again. I just wish I knew. Because I know that I can't love anyone else anymore. She broke into sobs and rolled over on her bed so that she could reach the tissues on her bed-side table. This seemed so pathetic; so irrational, yet she couldn't help it. She felt like an unlovable creature. What if he was just joking? What if he has just enjoyed towing me along so he could say 'look at me, I have the Ice Queen playing out of my hand'? What if it's just a joke against me? What's the matter with me? Why can't I be beautiful? Why can't I have a man who loves me, and is serious about me, straight and honest about the way he feels? He must find me so untouchable, so barren, so inable to love - 'the ice queen' - that he jokes about loving me! It's all a joke. Well that's just fucking great. Her body shook with uncontrollable sobs. In a part of her mind she compared herself to a silly child and told herself to stop, but it was a voice quashed by the next wave of tears. The telephone pulled her from her unhappy reverie. She panicked temporarily before pulling herself together again. She put up the walls and squashed her tears. Clearing her throat, she reached for the phone. "Scully," she spoke with a deceptive clarity which made her feel a little more confident. "Hi, Scully, have you eaten yet?" came his voice. She forced herself to stay cool. Keep it short and sweet she told herself. "No, I only got in a little while ago and hadn't thought about it." "Well I just picked up a pizza and wondered if you wanted to share" "No, it's okay Mulder, Georgetown isn't on your route home so it's too much of a bother. Besides, I was gonna cook rather than settle for a take-out tonight," she lied. "I'm fine, you keep the pizza for yourself." "Oh. OK. Bye." He sounded dejected as he hung up, but Scully didn't have time to think about it as the doorbell rang. Great. I look like shit. I have tear stains all down my face and now I'm gonna have to present myself to someone in this state and get a thousand questions. The bell rang again. "OK! OK! I'm coming!" she called out as she took a deep breathe, set her shoulders and walked to the door. She paused behind it to collect herself before opening it. "I can't eat a whole extra large pizza," Mulder said on the door's opening. "and you need company. You're not fine." She froze in the doorway, staring at him, as a wave of fear crashed over her. After a moment of crazed thought, she managed to splutter out "What?" "I could tell on the phone you weren't ok and, from the look of you, I'd say that I was right." He spoke quietly as Scully's mind whirled round. She never understood how he could know her so completely at times. "Can I come in?" She moved aside as he walked in and placed the pizza on the side next to her keys and bag. He turned to her and leant against the side, his arms folded across his chest. He looked at her; her face pale and tired, her emotions raw, her fear of her vulnerability all too clear. She avoided eye contact, but preferred to stare at the floor, her head down. Her fingers moved anxiously together. "So, Scully, what's the matter?" he asked in a quiet, caring voice, yet still in a way which revealed his determination to find the answer; to find the truth. "I'm fine, Mulder, really." Her voice was feeble, and she knew the reply was lame: everything about her screamed the opposite. "You already told me that on the phone Scully, I know that. But that's not what I asked. I asked what the matter was, not how you are. So, what's the matter?" She glanced up at him like an unsure little girl. Her sadness and insecurities obvious, but also a look of questioning. Is he being seriously caring, or just polite? Can I really tell him? Will he listen if I do? Will he care? Will he give me what I want, what I need? Or will he laugh in my face and leave? His reply was a concerned, caring look, filled with sadness to see her this way and also, Scully noted, what-could-be love??? He wanted to understand, to know, to help, to be there. She took in a deep breathe. "I don't know... no I do, but I can't work it out, or even why I care or if it's what I think or if it's a joke or if..." she blurted out and then stopped to catch her breathe. "Or if... Or if... Oh, I don't know!" She broke into a stream of tears and sank her head into her hands, her body shaking with the confused mass of emotion seizing it. "Oh, Scully!" he chided as he moved towards her and pulled her frail little body into his arms and held her closely, like he was holding her together. The sobs continued to wrack her body. Mulder stroked her hair with his hand and leaned his head gently against hers. They stood like that for what seemed like an eternity of heaven. Mulder pressed a kiss upon her head as her sobs slowly eased off a little more. "Oh, Scully, I love you so much." And, with that, she knew the truth. The End. Thanx for reading! I can't help but wonder if I should have done something more, but I can't think what. Plus I'm a little unsure about the portrayal of Scully. I haven't got an e-mail address *for feedback*, so sorry, you can't get back to me. I hope you liked it though.