********************************************************************* This author's e-mail address has changed to: xanaduxf@yahoo.com ********************************************************************* Date: Sun, 9 Jan 2000 23:56:20 -0500 Subject: NEW A House Divided (1/1) *ORISON SPOILERS* Source: xff A House Divided by shannono shannono@iname.com Vignette, Angst, Mulder/Scully UST, rated PG, spoilers for "Orison" Summary: Picks up two seconds after the screen went black. Thanks: To Lena, for beta reading really really quickly. Author's notes at the end. === A House Divided by shannono "A house divided against itself cannot stand." He didn't know if it was the right thing to say, but at least it was something. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and as naked as he'd ever seen them, her gaze following his face as he lowered himself to sit on the mattress next to her. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and hold her close, but he didn't touch her, not yet. "He *was* evil, Scully," he said, his tone firm but gentle. "The closest thing to pure evil either of us has ever seen." He paused, dipping his head to recapture her gaze fully. "And evil can't defeat evil." Her eyelids fluttered, and she looked down at the Bible she still held. Slowly, she turned it over, flipping through several pages at the back, her movements gradually quickening. She ran her finger down the page, then stopped and turned pages again, moving this time toward the middle of the book. Lifting it slightly toward her, she began to read. "And Jesus knew their thoughts, and said unto them, 'Every kingdom divided against itself is brought to desolation; and every city or house divided against itself cannot stand. And if Satan cast out Satan, he is divided against himself; how shall then his kingdom stand?'" She faltered for a second, then continued in a stronger voice: "'But if I cast out devils by the Spirit of God, then the kingdom of God is come unto you.'" She stopped, slowly lowering the book to rest in her lap. She spread her hands out across the pages, her eyes slipping shut as her head dropped forward. Her voice was so soft he had to lean in to hear her when she spoke again. "Forgive us our trespasses," she whispered, one hand lifting to wrap around the cross that, amazingly, still hung around her neck. "And deliver us from evil." His hand raised without his conscious thought, smoothing from the back of her head down to the center of her back. She took in a shuddering breath and let it out, her body slumping just slightly toward him, and he slipped his hand around her shoulders, letting her lean on him. He pressed his lips against the crown of her head and left them there. Long minutes passed, and he let his eyes fall shut, concentrating on the sounds of her breathing. Too close, it was too close, you almost lost her again, his mind chanted, keeping up the refrain he'd been hearing in his head for the past hour. His hand tightened reflexively on her arm, holding her closer to him. When she finally shifted and pulled away, his first instinct was to reach for her again, but he suddenly realized just where they were sitting and thought better of it. She didn't need that now. She stood up and stepped back over to her dresser, reaching into the top drawer again, and he stood as well, moving carefully so as not to startle her. She might seem all right on the outside, but he knew the truth. "Can I help?" he asked, and her hands froze in mid-motion. She took one deep breath, then glanced up at him. "Actually, yes," she said. "You can get my overnight bag out of ... out of the closet for me." He understood perfectly everything she didn't say. He hadn't heard her full report to the police -- he had his own to give -- but he'd heard enough. "Sure," he said, slipping past her and picking his way across the debris-covered floor to the closet. He paused before opening the door, considering gloves, but he decided the police had been over it twice already and the perp was dead, so there was no need. The closet was as ransacked as the rest of the room, and Mulder felt his heart clench in his chest again at the chaos. He didn't even want to think about Scully having to clean up after this, though he knew it was necessary. She couldn't leave everything here and start over somewhere else, much as either of them might wish she could. He found the overnight bag on the top shelf and turned around to set it on the bed, only to find himself faced with Scully's bare back. He froze in shock, his eyes glued to the expanse of smooth skin, registering the mottled marks that would be bruises by morning. His glimpse was just that -- a split-second look -- but as her t-shirt dropped into place to cover her, he knew the sight would remain with him for a long, long time, and not just because of the expanse of Scully's skin. The paramedics had taken only a few minutes to check Scully's injuries, agreeing with her assessment that they were all minor and recommending rest and Tylenol. To Mulder, though, the visible signs of her struggle were only the beginning. He was much more concerned about the bruises on the inside. He cleared his throat, and Scully turned to look at him, apparently unconcerned about changing her shirt with him in the room. "Thanks, Mulder," she said. "I'll be ready in a few minutes." He nodded slowly. "I'll just ... wait for you outside," he said, motioning toward the door, and she nodded in agreement. She emerged in five minutes, wearing jeans and sneakers, bag in hand. She did not, he noticed, go into the bathroom; she didn't even look in that direction. Instead, she walked up to him. "Ready?" she said. "Ready," he answered, glancing around at the few officers still milling around. "They're done with us for now, but we'll probably be spending quite a bit of time with these guys over the next few weeks." Scully nodded, and Mulder noticed her eyelids were drooping, despite her obvious efforts to keep them open. His protective instinct kicked in again, and when he put his arm around her shoulders again, he was pleasantly surprised that she didn't brush him off. He led her to his car, settling her in the passenger seat and setting her bag in the back seat, and by the time he buckled himself in and started the car, her eyes were closed and her head was propped on the headrest. "Don't know why I'm so sleepy," she murmured huskily, and Mulder couldn't help it; he reached over to run the back of one finger across her cheek. "It's been a long day," he whispered in reply. "You sleep; I'll wake you when we get there." She made a muffled little sound in affirmation as he pulled out into traffic, and as her breathing began to even out in sleep, her words came back to him. "Deliver us from evil," he murmured. He glanced at her, eyes on the cross she still wore, and added, "Glory, Amen." =====END===== Author's notes: I was SO expecting Mulder to say the first line of this story that I had to write it when he didn't. The verses Scully reads are Matthew 12, verses 25, 26, and 28. Feedback gloried in at shannono@iname.com. ========== "I'm sick of pretending I'm broken from bending I've lived too long on my knees ..." -- "Light As The Breeze," Billy Joel ========== Find Xanadu at http://shannono.simplenet.com/