From annette.gisby@which.net Fri Aug 13 17:08:34 1999 Date: Sun, 20 Jun 1999 12:04:28 +0100 From: Annette Gisby Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: REV: CHERISHED by Annette Gisby CHERISHED by Annette Gisby (1/1) Author: Annette Gisby email: annette.gisby@which.net Rated: PG-13 Content: Rape. Angst. Mulder/Scully friendship, some romance. Spoilers: Emily/Redux etc. CHERISED She was running. Running from him, running from herself, but most of all from the knowledge. The knowledge that she was dying. She'd wanted to confide in him that the cancer was back, but he'd turned his back on her. "Can it wait, Scully? I'm really getting somewhere with this." And then he'd gone back to reading his computer files. She couldn't believe he'd done it. After all that they'd been through, was something on their latest case really more important to him than her? It was a nasty case, there was no denying that. Nine victims so far, all raped and killed in their own homes, no sign of forced entry. Scully just let the car take her where she wanted to go and ended up at home. She wanted to talk to her mother. But her mother wasn't there. She was on vacation with Bill and his family. She let herself in with the key and went to her room. She lay down on the bed and bawled like a five year old who'd just lost their favourite toy. It was so unfair! First her father, then Melissa, then Emily and now herself. She cried until there were no tears left. All that was left inside her was a hollow husk. The implant should have worked longer than this, surely? Unless it had never worked at all and she had gone into remission spontaneously? That would explain why the cancer had come back so suddenly. Hadn't he noticed that she'd been having nosebleeds again? Hadn't he noticed the way she was losing weight? She knew what the problem was. He'd been so distant ever since she told him that she loved him. She was dying, she thought she had nothing to lose. Nothing but her self-respect. He'd looked at her as though she meant nothing to him, before turning away from her. But now he'd rejected her. He didn't love her. Oh, he didn't say it in so many words, but she knew all the same. It was a strain for the two of them to be together. She tried to be brave, but it was so hard when all she wanted to do was curl up in a corner somewhere. Somewhere where she would never be hurt again. Scully lay on her back staring at the ceiling and thinking of him. Why had she fallen in love with him? It brought nothing but misery and it wouldn't get any better. She wished she'd never told him. Now they couldn't even go back to the way things were. Before, at least she could count on him as a friend, now... Now she wasn't sure she could count on him at all. She went to the bathroom to wash her face. Scully paused by the phone in the living room. It was no use, she couldn't stop herself from ringing. She called his apartment, hoping to get his answering machine. Instead she got him. "Mulder." "Mulder. It's me. Please, we've got to talk. Can you come over?" There was a long pause at he other end of the line. Her heart was thumping so loud, she was sure that he could hear it. "Okay. I'll come over." He put the phone down without saying goodbye. Just as she was about to investigate the contents of the fridge, she wanted to find something to cook him dinner, the doorbell rang. There was no way he could have gotten here that quickly! She looked through the peephole to find a woman in the corridor. The woman was wearing a smart suit and carrying a briefcase. Scully put on the chain and opened the door a fraction. "Yes?" "Hello. We were in the area and wondered if you would be interested in purchasing the Milton Encyclopaedia collection?" "Not really," said Scully and was about to close the door. "Five minutes of your time, that's all I'm asking. Please. This is my first day and I haven't sold anything yet. I'm trying to send my daughter to college." Scully was inclined to disbelieve her. It was probably a ploy they all used in order to make a sale, but she could give her five minutes. "Do you have any ID?" she asked the woman, her hand on the chain. The woman thrust a pass at her with an out of focus photo, but it did look like the woman. The legend "MILTON ENCYCLOPAEDIAS" was emblazoned across the front in large black letters. Scully undid the chain and that's when the nightmare began. *************************** After Scully had walked out of the office that afternoon, he sat by his desk with his head in his hands. He was ashamed of how he'd treated her. He knew what she wanted to talk about and he didn't want to face it. He'd known for weeks that her cancer had come back. The weight loss was getting more and more pronounced, and she could ill afford to lose much more. She was wasting away in front of him and there wasn't anything he could do. He was going to lose her and he was such a coward that he couldn't even tell her how he felt. "I love you, Mulder," she'd said. Those words were like a thousand jewels falling from her lips and what did he do? He denied her, let her think that he didn't love her back. He'd grabbed his coat and went home, the paperwork still on his desk. He couldn't concentrate when she wasn't there. He was aware of her absence as an amputee was aware of a missing limb. A dull throbbing ache in the leaden weight which had once been his heart. She'd called almost as soon as he arrived in his apartment. She wanted to talk. It was time they did, and this time there would be no more lies. He would tell her everything. He would pour out his soul to her and after that she would realise that she would be better off without him. It was his fault she was in this mess, everything was his fault and if he could swap places with her, he would do it gladly. "Scully, I'm sorry!" he wailed to the empty apartment. But being sorry wouldn't help her. Being sorry couldn't save her life. He might as well have killed her himself. ****************************************** Scully sat on an armchair in her living room dressed only in a white bathrobe. She had switched on the television, with the sound down low, but she wasn't watching. Her eyes kept drifting to the couch and the dent on the cushion. Her hand absently stoked the bruises on her cheek and she felt her hair which was still damp from her shower. The eighth shower of the evening and still she didn't feel clean. She didn't think she'd ever feel clean again. She rubbed her chafed wrists and felt tears roll silently down her cheeks. When the doorbell rang, she jumped up and reached for her gun. Why hadn't she got it when she needed it? She padded on bare feet to the door, standing behind it with her gun ready to fire. "Scully?" came the voice from the other side. Mulder. She'd forgotten about him. Why hadn't he got there sooner? He was always too late, wasn't he? He was too late to save her from Duane Barry and too late now. "Go away, Mulder." "I thought you wanted to talk?" "I did but it's too late now." She sighed and leaned against the door. She unlocked the latch and let him in. What use were latches now? Scully shivered as the door opened and Mulder came in. She tied the belt around her bathrobe even tighter if that were possible. "I tried to call before I came over, but there was no answer." "Did it ever occur to you that I didn't answer because I wanted some peace and quiet?" "I thought something might have happened to you." "As you can see, it hasn't," she blushed at the lie, and turned her face away from him, so that he wouldn't see the bruises. Mulder would see through the lie. He always did. He knew her too well. "Please, Mulder, just go. I can't talk you to right now." She was almost in tears. "If that's what you want." "It is." Was it? Was it what she really wanted? He turned towards the door. "Scully, I know something's bothering you. Lie to me, but don't lie to yourself." His voice was so tender, so paternal that she couldn't hold back the torrent of tears which threatened to engulf her. She sank to the floor, hugging her knees against her chest and rocking backwards and forwards like a child. Mulder knelt down and wrapped her in his arms, but she thrust him away. "Don't touch me!" she shrieked at him. "Scully, please! Tell me what's wrong! Don't you trust me?" She looked up at him and heard his breath catch in his throat, she knew he'd seen the bruises. "My God, Scully! What happened to you?" She wanted to crawl into a corner somewhere and die. Anything but try and explain this to Mulder. To admit to what had happened to her. If she didn't say it out loud, maybe that would mean it hadn't happened. Mulder looked down at her and felt his chest constrict. She looked so vulnerable, so small. He wanted to protect her from anything bad, but by the looks of those bruises he was too late. Again. He was always too late. What had happened? Why wouldn't she tell him? She looked frightened. Of him? But he would never do anything to hurt her. But he could tell her now, couldn't he? "Scully, I'm sorry. I was scared. I'm scared of losing you. That's why I couldn't say that I loved you. But I do. I do love you. I'm afraid THEY'LL take you away again." "It's too late, Mulder. You should have got here sooner. Before ... before.." She broke down in sobs and took all of Mulder's self control not to join her. "Before what, Scully?" But even before she told him, he knew. He could see it in her eyes. The knowledge was like a kick in his guts. He almost bent double with the pain of it. "You were raped?" he asked in a whisper. "Yes. And I've done a stupid thing, Mulder." "What?" "I've done what you're not supposed to do. I've had a shower, there won't be any trace evidence. I just couldn't bear to have the smell on him on me! I feel so filthy!" She sobbed even louder and Mulder didn't know what to do. He'd seen rape victims during his time in Violent Crimes, had even tried to comfort them. But they weren't someone he knew. They weren't Scully. What was he supposed to say to her to make it seem better? Would it ever feel better for her? Did you ever get over something like that? "I'm so sorry," he said, feeling tears prick at his eyes as he looked at her. He noticed a spreading red stain on the front of her robe, looking like a rose against snow. "Scully! You're hurt!" Scully tried to stand up, but slumped down again. "Help me," she said weakly. Mulder scooped her up in his arms and ran to the car. He wasn't going to wait for an ambulance. They might get there too late. He broke the speed limit and drove through red lights on the way and prayed to a god he didn't believe in to let Scully be okay. He parked with a screech of brakes and ran with Scully in his arms to the emergency entrance. An orderly took Scully from him and Mulder stared after them, his empty arms held out in front of him, the blood on his hands like a reproach. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't. How much more was she to be put through? And all because of him. A doctor walked towards him. "What happened?" he asked Mulder. "She was raped. I think he stabbed her," said Mulder. "We'll do all we can," said the doctor, with a sympathetic smile. Yes, they'd do all they could thought Mulder. But would it ever be enough? Mulder sat on an uncomfortable plastic chair in the waiting room until Scully came out of surgery. A doctor still in surgical robes came to speak with him. "Are you Fox?" he asked Mulder. "Yes," replied Mulder, surprised at the use of his first name. "Dana was asking for you when she came round. You can see her in a while. She's asleep, I think it's best if we let her rest," said the doctor. "Can I just see her for a minute? I won't wake her. I just have to see her." Mulder tried not to cry, but it was no use. Five years worth of emotion spilled from his eyes and onto the floor. The doctor laid a hand on his shoulder. "Okay, if you don't wake her." Mulder wiped his face with the back of his hand and followed the doctor down the corridor to Scully's room. The doctor opened the door and he went in quietly and sat on the chair by the bed to watch her sleep. How many times had he done that? Her hair was like a red flame against the whiteness of the pillow. It was all he could do not to reach out and touch it. He laid his head on the bed and sobbed quietly to himself. Scully woke up with a start. There was a man in the room. She fought the urge to scream as she saw him next to the bed. The terror turned to relief when she saw who it was. "Mulder," she whispered. His head shot up and she saw the tears which he hadn't had time to wipe away. "I'm sorry, Scully. Sorry for everything." Scully held out her arms and she saw him looking blankly at her. "Dammit, Mulder! Don't you know when the woman you love needs a hug?" she smiled a little and watched as a smile formed itself on his lips. "Are you sure?" he asked throatily. "I know you, Mulder. I love you. I trust you." He put his arms around her and just held her tight. She waited for the fear to come, but it didn't. This was Mulder. He would never do anything to deliberately cause her pain. He wasn't a rapist. A sob escaped her as she thought of what had happened. Mulder released her and looked into her eyes. "I love you, Scully. I want to find whoever did this to you. It may not be today, it may not be next week, but one day we'll find him. Whatever happens, we'll face it together." "I know, Mulder," she said quietly into his hair. "I know." THE END Feedback please! annette.gisby@which.net