From: "Copper Ashley" <copperashley@hotmail.com>
Date: Mon, 07 Apr 2003 11:13:22 +0000
Subject: Past Lives by Copper Ashley
Source: direct

Author: Copper Ashley
E-mail:copperashley@hotmail.com
Title: Past Lives
Rating: NC-17 nothing to graphic but strong language and
sexual references
Disclaimer: Scully and Mulder are not mine and never will
be, they belong to the tremendous imagination of Chris
Carter etc.
Category: Scully angst,
Spoilers: Little ones for Fire
Archive: ANYWHERE but please keep my name and e-mail
attached
Summary: A voice from the past forces Scully to open up
to Mulder

Author's Note: This story deals with some instances of
not so consensual sex, if this offends you please don't
read it. BIG thanks to my motley crew, you know who you
are (Basil, Anna, Larry, Kingston and Suz) for making the
year bearable I wouldn't be here writing this if it
wasn't for all your help and support, God bless you all.

Feedback: I live for it! I need to know if I'm flogging a
dead horse here so let me know what you think and I'll be
forever in your debt.


J. Edgar Hoover Building
Friday, 5.15pm

Special agent Dana Scully sat at her partner's desk
resting her forehead on her arms and trying not to fall
asleep. To her surprise the week had passed without
incident which could only be seen in a positive light,
however with nothing happening it had been a very long
and drawn out five days. Now she desperately wanted to go
home but the energy to stand up had taken flight. The
silence surrounding her was strangely soothing and she
was loath to leave it for the harsh reality of D.C. rush
hour on a Friday. <It's too quiet, and where the hell is
Mulder? > She perused the question in her mind. Her
partner had left the office at 4.30pm saying he would be
back in five minutes. As usual this had turned out not to
be the case and so now she was waiting for some sign that
would allow her to leave the office in a peaceful state
of mind. She was interrupted in her contemplation by the
shrill ringing of the telephone. Reluctantly she
stretched out a hand to answer.

"Scully"
"Dana Scully?" She froze. The voice was calm, almost
timid a mere shadow of its former self. But still, she
knew instantly who it belonged to. She sat rigid, her
mind spinning. It had been so long. Eighteen years. What
could he possibly want now? How could he torment her in
this way? It had taken her years to move on and even
longer to accept that the scars would always be with her.
And yet with the sound of her name on his lips her
consciousness was catapulted backwards away from the
light and into the abyss. Her throat felt dry, the
texture of sandpaper. She felt the blood drain from her
face and sweat break under her hairline. Logically she
knew she was older now, and her experiences had left her
wiser and less vulnerable than before. But still the
power this man had emanated over her was, to her adult
self horrifying. The words stumbled on her tongue and she
had to elicit great concentration in order to get them
out in a coherent order. "Speaking." There was a telling
pause from the other end of the line and then the man
spoke again. "Um...I don't know if you remember me..."
"I remember you."
"You do?"
"Yes." Quite how he thought she could have forgotten him
was beyond her comprehension, although she hoped and
prayed every night for years that those memories would
die a bloody and painful death, compensation for the
inner turmoil with which they branded her. "What do you
want?"
"I was in the area... I wasn't sure... I mean I looked you
up but didn't expect to find you."
"So how did you find me?"
"By accident."
"Well that's blindingly obvious, but that doesn't answer
my question does it?"
"I recognised you a couple of weeks ago. You were in
court giving evidence. I knew it was you as soon as I saw
you."
"Well it's nice to know I made some sort of impression."
She could not disguise the bitterness and loathing that
laced through her words, and in truth, she did not want
to. She swore that if she saw him again on the day she
died it would be too soon. This man was a thief and he
stole everything that she held sacred kicked dirt in her
face and then sat back and laughed as she cried.

The man sighed heavily down the line, as if indicating
that his patience was wearing thin. The complacency with
which he spoke sent daggers slamming through her
breastbone slicing the fine flesh and killing the steady
rhythm of her heart. "Don't be like that Dana. It's all
in the past, I'm a changed man. I've been married for
four years for God sakes. I'm not a frat bot any more."
The tears were welling up behind her eyes and she fought
for control that she knew she would never attain. Her
hands were trembling, her breaths coming in short, sharp
gasps so she held the phone away from her mouth so as not
to provide him with the satisfaction of hearing his
effect. Steeling her courage she pushed him. "Do you
treat your wife the way you treated me?" There was
silence. "Look, what could you possibly want from me
that you haven't already taken?"
"I just wanted to see how you were doing."
"See if I survived you mean."
"That's not what I meant. I'm sorry I called."
"So am I." She could not make out the words that flowed
from the earpiece as she slowly lowered the receiver down
to its cradle. She had no desire to here false apologies,
not that she expected them to be forthcoming, but
everything about this man was hollow and she had no time
for him now. The tears spilled over and she let them
come.


5.20pm

Fox Mulder strode briskly out of the elevator, a
distinctive spring in his step. It was Friday and that
was enough to get excited about. What he was not looking
forward to was his partner's reaction when he again set
foot in the office. His five-minute errand had turned
into a forty-minute chore and he was certain she would be
fuming. Upon rounding the corner he noted the office door
was still open, a positive sign that she was still in the
vicinity, but as he neared he heard her voice <Well
that's blindlingly obvious but it doesn't answer my
question does it?> He stopped in his tracks. This was
very unlikely to be a business related conversation
therefore he thought it wise not to intrude. He stood
with his back to the wall and listened to half of the
exchange, chilled by the sound of disdain dripping from
the usually rich voice of this woman.
<Well it's nice to know I made some sort of impression>
Now he knew she was pissed and that whoever was on the
other end of the line was stepping on dangerous ground.
He waited patiently for the inevitable explosion. But it
never came.

The more he heard the greater his confusion. There was
pain in her voice but there was anger there too. Whatever
the issue it seemed to be raw and so Mulder found himself
in a strange position, realising that he knew less about
his best friend that he had originally thought. His
Scully would not take any crap from anyone. His Scully
would speak her mind in no uncertain terms. But this
Scully, the Scully on the phone was bleeding rather than
stabbing. This Scully was not in control of her emotions,
and this Scully was... crying. Slowly he backed away from
the door and returned to the elevator from which he had
come. The wisest men are those who leave the grieving
alone with the grief. He had learnt this from Scully and
therefore he knew she would prefer it this way. He
decided to ring her, tell her to go home and maybe go
over later with Chinese and a chick flick. He wanted to
know, wanted to ask despite the fact his consciousness
rebuked him for his morbid fascination. But there were
not many things that would make his partner cry and
therefore he was as much intrigued as he was unnerved.

Dana Scully's Apartment
Friday, 7.10pm

She sat starring at a blank TV screen, the images
flashing before her eyes were not fantasy but reality.
They were brazen and rash and untamed by censorship.
There was also no button that could be pressed to switch
them off. Vivid colours swirled around the figures,
purples and reds, dangerous and severe and speckled with
minute patches of pink and pale blues. The irony was not
lost on her. They were opposites, contrasts. Strong and
weak, hot and cold, day and night. She knew that now, but
hindsight was such a wonderful thing. If she had known
then what she saw now her life may have proved to be so
very different from what it had become. She may have
learnt to love again. As she sat surrounded by silence
she mourned for her innocence. If she could claim it back
she would cherish it with every inch of her being. It
would not be a hindrance, nor would it be cheap. More
tears threatened and she squeezed her eyes shut in
response. She would not let him win, not this time.

A knock at the door broke the spell of her reverie. Upon
opening it she smiled for the first time since that
conversation. Mulder stood with a pizza balanced in one
hand, a bag of what smelt suspiciously like Chinese atop
of it. In the other hand he held a bottle of red wine
precariously by its neck and was attempting to stop the
video, which had once been jammed under his arm from
escaping. He smiled widely and it was contagious. "Need
a hand there G-man"
"Hope you're hungry Scully I got Peking duck and pork
balls"
"Yum, you sir have the most obscure taste in food."
"Ah, but I redeem myself with the wine, look it's
vintage," he held out the bottle as best he could in an
attempt to show her the label. She scrutinised it
thoroughly before pushing back from the door to allow him
entry adding "well '89 is a good year."

After close to an hour of gorging and draining the dregs
from the second bottle of wine they sat comfortably on
the couch bathed in soft lamplight enjoying the sense of
each other's presence. It felt oddly domestic, as if they
had been doing this for years. In truth they had but
tonight the atmosphere was different. Mulder knew Scully
was still distracted. She was more distant and less
forthcoming conversationally. He decided to give her a
gentle push that she might reveal the essence of her
quandary. "Penny for them?" Her head snapped up her eyes
locking with his. She looked like a rabbit caught in
headlights, which scared him. There was something
desperately wrong here but he did not know whether to
approach it, or rather how he could do so tactfully.
"What?"
"Your thoughts. You're miles away Scully, everything
alright?"
"Yeah. So what ya got planned for the weekend?" Now he
new she was evading and he sensed that whatever the
problem it was deep seated within her. He wanted to
indulge in her mind, to know her inner secrets, to share
in all her past glories but such openness was something
that despite their closeness they had yet to divulge. He
took a deep breath and decided to push a little harder.
"We don't do this enough."
"What?"
"You know, just sit and talk. I mean about real stuff
not just work." She slowly swirled the remnants of her
wine around the bottom of her glass watching intensely as
the rich liquid lapped at the confines of its cavern.
"Guess not. So you wanna talk huh?"
"Yeah."
"About anything in particular, or are we just coasting?"
"You."
"Me? Why do you want to talk about me, I mean I'm really
not that interesting. Not a lot to tell really." She
looked so small, so fragile huddled in the corner of the
couch, feet tucked under her body, face scrubbed clean
and hair falling mused around her face. She was stunning
in her vulnerability. A cruel irony he knew, but still he
couldn't help but rake her with his eyes. She didn't seem
to notice, and he was glad. "I want to know everything
about you Scully. I want to know about your childhood,
how you grew up. Tell me about you Scully. Talk to me
about...I don't know...college..."

She flinched at the mention of college as the flood of
memories came back to haunt her. She hoped and prayed
that he did not notice the slight shift in her persona,
because if he did he would inevitably keep asking,
shooting until he hit something. But it hurt. It hurt so
badly. The fear, the shame the humiliation of it all. The
disapproving looks from the Doctor, the quiet sneers from
other students. It was too much. She had forgotten how
much effort and energy she had driven into erasing the
memories and displacing the blame. But now the gaping
wound that she concealed within had been painfully and
coarsely reopened and the emotional blood spilled thick
and fast draining her of her life essence. She needed
vindication, someone to corroborate what she already knew
but there were no guarantees that she would get what she
hoped for, so to be honest was to gamble her last shred
of dignity. "College was college. Not much to tell
there. Maximum work minimum social life. How 'bout you?"
"Scully, methinks you're evading. You got some wild
secret life from your past that you're not telling me
about?"
"NO! Mulder please just drop it ok?" She was defensive
and the look on her face told him she was starting to
panic. He sensed her desperation as she tried to control
her emotions. There was something here that she had tried
to forget and suddenly he was struck with an overwhelming
need to know. He wanted her acceptance that he might be
allowed to comfort her, to soothe the torrent of fire
that raged within. He also knew that she would be loath
to grant it. "What is it Scully?"
"Nothing. I said there is nothing wrong, honestly." She
unwittingly provided him with his opening to probe and he
took hold of it in a death grip. "Liar." She threw
daggers with her eyes and if looks could kill he would be
six feet under. There was passion there, but not the good
kind. It was more of resilience. The walls had been build
long ago, shaped of the toughest granite and stone, the
strongest metals, they were created to stand forever.
"What did you call me?" She was astounded by his
boldness
but greatly aware of her own ethics. She was not a liar
by nature, and such an accusation struck at the very core
of her being. "Why are you so interested anyway?"
"Because I care," he took a deep breath and mentally
buckled his seat belt. This was ultimately shaping up to
be a bumpy ride, "I heard you earlier, in the office and
you don't usually cry without a very good reason." She
paled to a ghostly shade of white, her eyes were large,
her jaw hung open as she processed the implications of
his admission. He was offering her a chance to vent her
wrath, to expose her grievance and perchance to heal the
wounds of old. Such a chance would only be offered once,
and so she began.

Shadows played on the walls around them doing their
magical dance. Outside the sun had long since set and
streetlight lit the way for the lonely stragglers making
their way home. Inside the two figures sat tentatively
waiting for the right moment to reveal themselves. The
atmosphere was still but not uncomfortably so. The wall
clock ticked quietly in the corner, a reminder of how
things can slip from our grasp without gaining
recognition.

Through the stillness her words came sweetly like
birdsong. "Have you ever been in love Mulder?" He
contemplated the importance of such a question and
concluded that this was indeed subject matter over which
neither of them had conversed before. Uncharted
territory, foreign grounds. "I thought I was a couple of
times, but I'm not so sure now."
"With Phoebe and Diana?"
"Yeah."
"Tell me about when you met Phoebe." He saw the way in
which this discussion would proceed, she would offer
insight only by reassurance. This would be quid pro quo.
"I met her at a time in my life when I was lonely.
Vulnerable. I was nineteen and I was away from home and
everything I knew. Being away from my family wasn't such
a big deal but the change in culture was a little
daunting."
"Was it really that different?"
"Aspects of it were. I don't know if you know this
Scully but the English are avid tea drinkers, I'm more of
a coffee man myself." This earned him a smile and he
understood how he would need to move. The last thing he
wanted to do was scare her. He would tread carefully,
slowly and hope she would accept this as submission of
all judgement. "Phoebe was very clever and very
intriguing. I was pretty naïve back then and women were a
complete mystery but she seemed willing enough to teach
me and I was eager to learn."
"So she was your first?"
"Yeah." A hint of self-deprecation lay in his voice that
she attached to preconceived notions of male pride. The
earlier the better was the dominant philosophy during her
adolescence and she guessed Mulder might have seen his
teenage abstinence as something to be ashamed of. She
thought it was endearing. She reassured him, "tell me
more Mulder."
"Well, I was blind at the time. She was really into mind
games and to her credit she played them well. She would
offer me things, emotional things and sex in exchange for
everything I had. She bled me dry essentially, but I was
so desperate to learn from her that I didn't see it."
"Bitch."
"Yeah, you're right about that. I loved her and she knew
it and used it against me. As for Diana, well you already
know about that, or at least how it ended." Silence
enveloped them once again and the tension was elevated up
a level. He knew she was close, she wanted to open up but
finding the words was proving to be a battle in itself.
"What about you Scully, have you ever been in love?" She
involuntarily hung her head, suddenly fascinated by the
pillow on which she leant. Quietly, her words tainted
with shame she spoke. "Once."
"And?"
"Never again."

Scully's Apartment
Friday, 9.30pm

"So, was it Waterstone?" She laughed a little and shook
her head, her eyes catching the light and reflecting a
picture of mock amusement. "No, Daniel was convenient.
He filled a void but it was doomed from the start what
with him having a wife and all. I loved him but I don't
believe I was ever in love with him. I was just
desperately looking for someone"
"Ah, so you're a subscriber to the 'love and in love'
philosophy," he almost sounded amazed.
"Yeah, that's me. Got to make everything more
complicated than it is or
else I'm not happy!" she chuckled and was awarded with
another Mulder grin.
"So who was he? Someone in college?" She flinched again,
a reflex reaction to the mention of that time in her
life. So many sins that still needed atonement. She
nodded her head in the affirmative and waited for the
next question wanting to gauge which direction the
conversation was heading in before volunteering more
information. Carefully and with guarded interest he
continued. "What happened Scully?"
"He broke my heart." With that admission the tears stood
forward, refusing to be ignored any longer the will
to restrain them firmly dead and buried.

Minutes felt like hours as he waited patiently for her to
reclaim herself and continue. He wanted to comfort her
but feared what reaction the contact might elicit from
her. He had never seen her so openly vulnerable and so
completely crushed. Gradually the waves of grief subsided
and she steadied herself to begin again. "I'd never been
overly interested in having a boyfriend. Missy seemed to
have a different one each week. I remember telling her
once that she was a slut to which she laughed and replied
that at least she wasn't a virgin," she smiled faintly
"we could get pretty catty when we argued."
"I'll bet, your sister never struck me as a stand-by-
and-let-it-happen kinda girl."
"You're right there. Anyway, I went away to college and
figured that maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have a
boyfriend, but I had no intention of actively looking for
one. As it happened one found me."
"Who was he?"
"His name was Paul Morgan and he was gorgeous." Mulder
smiled at her boldness, he couldn't help himself. He was
learning very quickly that open Scully was far more
stunning than he had given her credit for. He wondered at
her sudden silence but realised she said his name with a
little more enthusiasm than she had intended. Scully did
not want to give this man more credit than he rightfully
deserved, but he had been beautiful. There were times
when she felt like she had her very own God. She saw the
looks the other girls gave her and she knew that there
would be many attempts to sully their newfound love.
"Don't keep me hanging Scully, what happened?" She
looked at him then, eyes heavy with sadness and with
determination and grace she offered him a way out of this
conversation, she needed him to be sure he wanted to hear
this. "It's a scary story Mulder, are you sure you want
to know?"
"Only if you're sure you want to tell me." How typical,
how Mulder.
"Ok."

"I met him by accident, actually I ploughed right into
him on my way home from the library. I was a million
miles away and so was he by all accounts. Anyway, after
that meeting we did lunch, went to movies that sort of
thing."
"You dated you mean."
"No not really. There was nothing official; it was just
friendly at first. But the more time I spent with him the
more I found myself wanting his company. He played a lot
of sport, football mostly he was on the team."
"What'd he play"
"You're asking me about football positions? I have no
idea."
"Not a fan huh?"
"No. I watched him because he asked me to, and I
couldn't say no to him. That's where things went wrong. I
was completely besotted with him. I was convinced I was
in love with him and he felt the same, but..." she faded
out and he brought her back.
"But what?"
"We had some issues."
"What kind?"
"You're not going to make this easy are you? Ok well we
had some sex issues. Still comfortable with this?"
"Absolutely."
"I was a virgin then and he knew it. I told him I wanted
to wait till it felt right. I assumed he would
understand."
"But he didn't." It was a statement not a question.
There was no explanation needed and all at once the
direction became clear. "It took him two weeks of
hounding me, telling me how beautiful I was and how he
just wanted to show me he loved me. That's all I needed
to hear, it was concrete proof in my mind that this was
meant to be, so I let him have what he wanted."
"And?" She seemed a little bewildered by his prompting.
"You want details?" He merely shrugged telling her that
he did but the he was too much of a gentleman to ask. Her
eyes glazed over and her voice dropped to a whisper. "He
changed then. He was...he...it was always rough."
"The sex?"
"Yeah. Even the first time. I knew he'd been with other
girls before but I thought he would go easy to start
with. It was horrendous. I was in agony and he kept
telling me that that's the way it is first time and not
to worry."
"Christ Scully! Why didn't you stop him?" He felt a
strange sense of jealousy, and an anger that unnerved
him. He couldn't see how anyone could use someone in that
way. It made him feel sick to his stomach. He moved
closer to her, inching his way along the couch. He felt a
great need to reassure her that not all men were inclined
that way, even though he knew she was already aware of
that fact. Through her tears and occasional hiccups she
continued her narration. "I couldn't stop him."
"Why?"
"Because I loved him, and I thought he loved me. I
didn't want to lose him," she sobbed weakly. "He kept
whispering in my ear how he loved me, how fantastic I
made him feel. He said no other girl could do to him what
I did, they were all sluts. They were damaged but I was
pure, and I was his and he loved me."
"Sounds like he could have been a perfect match for
Phoebe."

She didn't seem to hear she was lost in her own mind
reliving the experiences crying the same tears. "He said
he was addicted to me, have you nay idea how flattering
that is to a seventeen year old girl? I was on cloud
nine. But there was a price. Once a night wasn't enough.
I would wake up at times and he would be..." Her throat
hitched. The words died on her tongue. He closed the gap
between them and placed his arms around her.
Inappropriate or not he needed her to know he had not
judged her. As he kissed her hair she continued. "He
would try and enter me in my sleep saying that I was so
pretty when I slept that I drove him to it. It didn't
matter how or...where."
"Where?" She couldn't mean what he thought she meant
could she?
"If he couldn't...open my legs...he'd try and...well...oh God!"
Holy shit he had guessed correctly. She was shaking now,
the force of the shame, the guilt the fear she felt then
came crashing through her body in all its hideous glory.
She was falling apart in his arms and still he knew there
was more of this story to tell. The shake in his voice
surprised him as he pressed on. "Did he ever manage...did
he ever succeed?"
"Not while I was asleep, but when I would wake up he
would tell me how much he wanted it, how good I would
make him feel. I wanted so desperately to please him that
I just let it happen."
"Oh Scully, I can't..."
"Believe I could be so stupid?"
"That's not what I was going to say and you know it."
She smiled then through the pain and he silently praised
her for her courage. Her smile turned into a self-
deprecating smirk as she returned to the past. "It was
awful you know. With hindsight he really didn't have a
clue what he was doing. He was hardly Casanova, it might
have been better if he'd tried to get me there first, but
he was very...goal orientated. Anyway after the first time
he kissed me, and held me and apologised for hurting me
but apparently I was a lot smaller than his past
conquests and therein lay the problem. It had nothing to
do with the fact that he rammed eight inches up my ass
without lubrication!" She laughed then, a full laugh and
he watched as she tried in vain to rationalise her
experience. Some things never change. "It only got worse
from there."
"Do I want to hear this Scully? I'm fit to go out and
rip this guy's heart out already."
"It's up to you. I warned you. Do you want the end or
not, it's really up to you now I'm kind of on a role."
He thought. He had initiated this, he started it. He
asked her to open up and she had, but he never expected
to find what he had. Could he take any more? No wonder
the mention of college made her cringe. Oh fuck, he was
such a twat, how could he have been so blind to where
this was heading? A rational though struck him, if she
was willing to continue then theoretically he should be
able to listen. Decision made. "Tell me Scully."

Scully's Apartment
Friday, 10.30pm

"Well after a few months of this he changed again.
Things went from rough to...well brutal I guess. It seemed
that my submissiveness had given him time to become an
even more malicious monster. I remember one night he was
fucking me but I couldn't find the will to make all the
right noises...if you get my drift." He nodded.
he stopped saying he loved me. He started telling me I'd
make a good whore but if I wanted to get paid I'd have to at least
fake it. I wanted to tell him that's what I'd been doing
for the past six months but I wasn't really in the best
position at the time, face slammed up against a wall and
what have you." She looked at him then and saw for the
first time the impact her life was having on him, his
eyes were swollen, and tear tracks stained his cheeks. He
looked young and frightened but carried an air of
disbelief. Her eyes offered him an apology but she
continued to relay the details.

"You know the strangest part of all this is right up
until the end, despite the fact that I realised I was
being used I felt empowered. It was like, he could have
had anyone but he wanted me. Twisted isn't it?"
"A bit. So how did it end?"
"My body betrayed me."
"Huh?"
"Ok. Well...like I said he was into rough stuff. I don't
ever remember there being a time when it didn't hurt. It
was like, if I could still walk when he was finished he
would have to do me again. I lost count of the times I
missed classes to sit in my room with an ice pack between
my legs. The anal thing got easier to, it didn't seem to
hurt if I didn't think about it too much. Things had been
a bit rocky a few weeks before, I complained about the
sex a few times telling him he was getting too rough.
Needless to say he didn't take kindly to criticism. That
last night...I...I didn't know what hit me."
"Scully, please don't..."
"You need to know now." He nodded but said nothing more.
"I was staying at his. He went out with the guys and I
fell asleep. He came back at about three, ripped the
blanket off me and started raving on about how I'd let
myself go; I'd turned into a slut like the others. I was
terrified, I had no idea where this had come from, to be
honest I still don't, but I think my comments about not
enjoying it much were partly to blame. He ripped off my
pyjamas and said... I remember it so clearly, he said 'You
don't think I'm good enough for you? I'm gonna fuck you
and you're going to come if it takes all night you little
slut. You want that don't you? You want me to love you
hard baby don't you?'
"And you didn't stop him?" His voice was completely
defeated. There was no way he would ever understand this,
it was too much.
"I couldn't even if I wanted to. He was built like a
brick shit house, but he wasn't stupid he knew I needed
to say yes so it wasn't rape and he knew I was scared so
I would. He started then, pinned me on my back and fucked
me almost to the point of unconsciousness. My stomach was
in agony but he kept pounding. I remember crying but he
didn't seem to notice."

She paused to swat away renegade tears that were proving
to be an obstruction to her outward poise. He couldn't
believe she could get this all out so calmly. He was a
fucking mess and it wasn't even his life. She sighed
deeply filling her lungs in preparation for the last leg.
He kept a hand wrapped around one of hers to let her know
he was still with her but said nothing. "He pulled out
and turned me onto my stomach, which was painful in itself
put then he started fucking my ass so hard" she hiccuped
under the weight of her condition, "I felt it split. He
was tearing me, it was agony... Oh Mulder I felt so sick
and I was screaming, I kept screaming, I thought if I
screamed loud enough he might hear me, or someone would
find me and take me away. I'd have given anything in that
moment to die. I prayed, I begged God to take me, but I
guess I needed that punishment." She was awash with
tears long since repressed, the panic and fear she felt
that night casting a gory shadow across her features. He
felt her pain, he felt her reliving the nightmare. He
felt it in the very depths of his soul and he wept
bitterly and openly for her, and for his own uselessness.
Through the haze emotion he heard her begging him to
accept her justification. "I kept screaming, I really
did but he just ignored me. He kept whispering in my ear 'Now you're
loving me aren't you baby, you're loving it so much, yeah
go on scream for me.' And I did, but for all the wrong
reasons. When he finally finished I couldn't move. I
looked down at myself and I knew I was
bleeding from both...places. He didn't notice at first, but
when he did he cursed me for making a mess. He said
he was going to have to do extra laundry because of me.
Last I remember of that night was him saying 'You know I
love you, but you're a messy little bitch. I passed out
after that I think."

He sat dumbstruck. There were no words he could offer in
comfort. He did not possess the ability to process such
sadistic details when it hit so close to home. She looked
up at him then concerned at his silence, that he had in
fact changed his opinion of her. Meekly she pleaded with
his conscious mind "Please don't hate me Mulder."
Looking at her amazed he embraced her so tightly she was
crushed. In a gentle tone that was thick with emotion he
replied "I could never hate you Scully, I care about you too
much for that." She nestled into his arms as the tears
came again, and for the first time they shared in her
grief. It bound them together. He made himself a promise
in that instant to tell her how he felt, and show her if
she would have him the beauty of being truthfully loved.

Scully's Apartment
Friday, 11.30pm

They sat for what felt like an eternity. Her confession
has shocked him and rocked the very foundation upon which
their friendship stood. Had he have know just where she
had come from, what horrors she had run from through her
life he might never have been so bold as to insist on her
honesty. Guilt ridden he continued his calming ministrations
running his fingers through her silky hair. She had been
distraught at the end of her purge, terrified that she
would lose his acceptance, his friendship, and his
respect. He understood this and so chose his words
carefully. He had no desire to push her any further;
there had been enough revelations that evening. But he
had to know. He was convinced the conversation he had
overheard in the office earlier was the prompt for the
divulgence of such delicate information. He knew he
should not ask, but he felt he had no choice if he was to
understand this at all. Quietly he breathed in her ear
and spoke with nothing but affection. "Scully, in the
office. Was this...is that what brought this up?" Placing
a tiny palm on his chest to steady herself she raised up
on her hip looking him squarely in the eye. "Yes."
"It was him?"
"Yes."

She sounded so weak, so deflated. He knew there was
nothing he could say that would heal the wounds, soothe
the burn or erase the scars. He did not claim to know
what drives people to manipulate the insecurities of
others and use them to their advantage. It had happened
to him, but he saw now how his experience although valid,
was nothing when compared to that of his beautiful partner.
His serene princess who would rather suffer than hurt those
she loves. How could any man be ruthless with her
innocence? An overwhelming sense of wrath stormed through
his blood, his pulse quickened and every fibre of his
essence screamed for vengeance. She sensed his agitation
and probed. "What are you thinking Mulder?"
"Truthfully?"
"Yes, I'm tired of being lied to by the men I care
about." He felt an involuntary blush sweep across his
face which elicited a light touch of her fingers against
his unshaven cheek. He gently captured her wrist in a
loose grip, not wanting her feel in any way restrained,
and even more gently placed a chaste kiss on the pulse he
found there. "I'm thinking I want him to suffer for what
he has done. I feel revolted and sickened that anyone
could abuse your trust in such a way," turning her hand
in his own he planted another kiss on the centre of her
palm then continued, "but I'm honoured that you trust me
enough to tell me about your life Scully. You are so
important to me, you have no idea."
"I don't repulse you?"
"Hell no! Why would you even think that?"
"I didn't stop him." She could no longer look him in the
eye, the shame weighed heavily on her shoulders like a
physical force pushing her down, holding her head just
beneath the water. "You explained that Scully. I believe
every word you tell me. I know now where you get your
incredible strength. The past shapes us all Scully and
you can either learn from it or it can kill you. You are
the bravest person I've ever met. Brave for leaving him
despite yourself, and even braver for letting me help you
now. And I'm here Scully, always." Wrapping her arms
around his neck she held him tightly as if anything less
and he would turn to sand. Quelling the wealth of emotion
inside her she paid him the greatest of compliments as
the darkness touched them "Thank you."

End