From: "Whiskey Queen" Date: Thu, 10 May 2001 07:41:49 -0000 Source: direct TITLE: No Answer AUTHOR: Lizzi Wareham RATING: R CATEGORY: S/A KEYWORDS: Rape SPOILERS: None SUMMARY: After being sexually assaulted, Scully deals with the aftermath in her own way. *No Answer* is Mulder POV WARNING: This fic contains reference to Rape, although there are no graphic scenes about it. It is all implied rather than described. FEEDBACK: Of course! As much as possible please to xfreak82517@hotmail.com DISCLAIMER: They don't belong to me, damn it! They unfortunately belong to Chris Carter, FOX and 1013 Productions. I am just borrowing them for the duration. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Mulder had been worried about Scully all day; in fact he had been worried about her ever since the incident. She had refused to talk about it, not to a stranger and not to Mulder. She had been back at work only three days later, stating that she was fit for work, and needed something to keep her mind occupied. She didn't want to dwell on it, and who would. She wanted to move on and forget. Forget what was done to her. But how can you forget something like that? Simple answer, you can't. Scully had failed to show up to work that morning. There had been no phone call to Mulder or Skinner explaining her absence. Her nights had been sleepless; no amount of make-up could hide that from Mulder. He took her absence to mean that she was finally getting the sleep her body so needed. He would call later to check up on her. The afternoon came and went, and still no word came from her. Mulder began to fear the worst. This wasn't like Scully. He picked up the phone and made fast work of dialing her cell phone. It rang, and rang, and rang. No answer. Trying her home phone, he got the same response until the answer phone picked up informing him that she was unable to answer the phone, and would contact him as soon as she could. He didn't bother to leave a message. His keys lay on his desk, jeering him, daring him to pick them up and go to her apartment. He resisted for all of a minute before grabbing them along with his jacket. Reaching the elevator, he pressed the button, and waited, and waited, and waited. No answer. He spurted obscenities as he pulled open the fire door and headed up the stairs to his car. He continued to dial both of Scully's numbers as he headed across town. The phone rang, and rang, and rang. No answer. It seemed like the entire working population of D.C. had finished work early today, and were deliberately driving to get in his way. "It's a conspiracy!" he grumbled as the fourth set of traffic lights turned red just as he approached. He took the to opportunity to dial Scully yet again. Ring, ring, ring, ring. No answer. This wasn't like Scully. A terrible feeling in his gut told him that everything was not okay, as he had earlier reassured himself. Scully needed him; he knew it. He had to get to her, at whatever cost. So, checking to make sure there were no cars coming across the intersection, he quickly ran the red light, and sped the rest of the way to Scully's apartment. He screeched to a halt outside her apartment block, noticing as he did so that her car was still here. He looked to her window. The light was on. But if she was home, why hadn't she answered her phone? Why did the machine pick up? Admittedly, she could have been in the shower, but not for the last two hours. Killing the engine, Mulder took the keys and headed towards the building, failing to lock the car. He had more important things to worry about. He had found Scully's door key by the time his foot hit the first step into the building. Everything went by in a haze as he headed up to her apartment. The first conscious thought he had was of knocking loudly on Scully's door. "Scully? It's Mulder. Open up!" He knocked, and knocked, and knocked. No answer. The feeling in his gut escalated. He couldn't wait any longer. If she wasn't going to open the door, then he was going in there. He slid the key into the lock, and after a short fight with it, the door sprang open. There was no sign of Scully upon first inspection. The television was blaring to an empty room and the answer phone was flashing. Apart from that the room was silent, empty. "Scully? Scully, where are you? Scully?" No answer. Mulder unholstered his gun and slowly began heading through the apartment, looking for signs of forced entry or a struggle. Everything seemed immaculate, as it always did. Everything was in its right place and free from dust. Mulder ventured further into her apartment. "Scully? Answer me Scully! Scully?" No answer. He headed towards the bedroom, hoping that she was fast asleep, that being her reason for not replying. He would rather her kick his ass for bursting in, than have to live with the not knowing. The bedroom light was on. Was she now sleeping with the light on? He entered. The room was empty, just like the rest of the apartment. She wasn't sleeping with the light on. She wasn't sleeping, period. There was one more room to look in, the bathroom. He suddenly felt bad about invading Scully's privacy like this. But if he left now, he would only worry himself all night until he could finally reach her. The door was slightly open, and he could see a small slit of light coming from inside. He knocked on the door. No answer. He entered. He gasped out loud. Mulder saw her limp form stretched out along the bath mat. She was clothed in her pajamas. Initially, Mulder believed that she had gotten so tired, that she just collapsed on the floor, too tired to make it back to bed. However, upon further inspection, her saw that her chest was not rising and falling, and that she was much paler than she had been all week. He fell to his knees beside her and gently shook her. "Scully? Scully can you hear me? Scully?" No answer. Mulder looked around the room, looking for nothing in particular, but finding something that shook him to the very core. There were two empty pill bottles on the sink, along with two empty packets, which he guessed had originally housed tablets of some form too. He felt for a pulse. No answer. He mind was numb. He had no idea what to do. A small piece of plastic dug into his side. Sticking his hand in his pocket, he found his cell phone. He used it to call for an ambulance. In the short while it took for the paramedics to arrive, Mulder began to perform CPR, determined not to lose his partner. The paramedics arrived within ten minutes, and were quickly connecting Scully's limp body to an array of machines. Mulder's CPR was taken over by the trained medic. The faintest trace of a pulse that had appeared on their monitor suddenly disappeared. The paddles were charged. "Charging! Clear!" Zap. Scully's body jerked upward as the electrical charge went coursing through her. It had no effect. The paddles were charged again. "Charging again! Clear!" Zap. Nothing. "Charge again at 360! Charging! Clear!" Still nothing registered on the machine. "Again, at 400. Charging! Clear!" Zap. Jerk. No answer. FIN XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX AUTHOR'S NOTE: I would just like to thank Nancy, coz without her; this wouldn't be as good as it is. Thanks Nancy!!!!