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After the Storm by Debbie McLaughlin
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Post-Episode Story for "Irresistible"
Author's Note: This story is for my 3 year old, Sara. She loves Mulder and
the X-Files and we have to watch it every night so she can go to sleep. She's
got her favorite episodes and Irresistible happens to be one of them. After
watching it 6 nights in a row I couldn't do much except write the story that
was rattling around in my head. I'd love to know what you think. Drop me a
line at DM3567@aol.com. Thanks to Jill and Mac for all the support and advice.
Disclaimer: All characters seen or mentioned on the X Files belong to Chris
Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions, and FOX Network and are used without
permission. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made
from this venture.
Summary: Mulder ponders the events following Scully's capture by Donnie
Pfaster.
After the Storm
by Debbie McLaughlin
It's 2:30 in the morning. It's raining steadily and I'm sitting in another
featureless motel room watching my partner sleep. She almost died tonight. We
got there just in time.
Just in time to see her save her own life with an amazing display of strength
and ingenuity. The simple truth is no matter how much I wish I could protect
her, I won't always be able to. I'm not sure she'd let me even if I could.
Lightning snaps, illuminating the window and I find myself counting the seconds
until the thunder claps. Old habits die hard I guess. My dad taught me that
trick when I was about six.
The storm broke just about the time we left the police station, sometime after
12:30. The paramedics had looked Scully over at the scene and they assured me
she'd suffered nothing more than a few bruises and abrasions. Of course, they
had no way of assessing her mental or emotional condition. I asked her to go
to the hospital just to be on the safe side, but she refused. She insisted on
going down to the police station to see this thing through to its conclusion.
We hung around while they began the booking process and Scully gave a statement
to one of the officers on duty. I must have had three cups of coffee while we
waited. Finally, about 11:30, Agent Bocks came by and told us to go back to
the hotel. Everything was under control and there was little else we could do
to assist the local law enforcement. "Besides," he went on, "you could both
use some rest. You've earned it."
I could see how concerned he was about Scully. Everything I was feeling was
written all over his face.
I saw Scully visibly let her guard down at his suggestion. Her shoulders
sagged a little and the mask of professionalism began to slip. The same advice
I had offered was somehow more acceptable coming from Agent Bocks. At least
from Scully's point of view.
She follows a strict code of personal conduct which does not allow for even a
hint of weakness in her partner's presence. I suppose it's part of the
self-imposed conditioning she went through when she made her decision to enter
a predominantly male field. First medical school and then the FBI. Both
arenas requiring an outward display of stoicism and strength.
Tonight, I got a glimpse of the chink in Scully's armor. It's small and only
her most trusted confidantes can get close enough to see it. Tonight her trust
in me was reaffirmed. She let herself fall and believed that I would be there
to catch her and wipe away the tears. We shared a rare moment of personal
contact. One I will never forget.
Scully is moaning in her sleep. The sound startles me and I start to go to
her, but it stops as quickly as it started. I pause, and then, when I'm sure
she is resting again, I sit back down to resume my watch.
This won't be her last nightmare about Donald Pfaster. They'll creep up on her
years from now when she least expects them. Just when she thinks she's put it
all behind her and moved on, the nightmare will return and it will seem like
only yesterday she was in the clutches of a madman.
Until now Scully has always had her scientific model to fall back on. Today,
Donnie Pfaster smashed that model and pushed Scully, with both hands, over the
brink into the mad world of the serial killer. In our line of work it had to
happen sooner or later.
No matter how hard she searches, she will never find a rational explanation for
Donnie Pfaster's actions. None exists. There is no answer to the question
that is Donald Pfaster.
In this line of work, the shadow of madness is always lurking just behind the
door. Donnie Pfaster flung the door wide and pulled Scully in. And now she
must find her way back. No one can pull her out, she must make the journey
herself.
Scully has an inner strength which I'm not even sure she is aware of. It's as
much a part of her as the color of her eyes or the timbre of her voice. If you
asked her, she'd deny it's existence, but tonight it saved her life. And
tomorrow she will be a stronger person because of it.
But for tonight, I will keep watch over her. Not only for her sake, but for
mine. I have traveled the road she is on, and while I cannot walk the path for
her, I can warn her of the unseen twists and turns ahead. And when she reaches
the end of the road, I will be there to take her hand in mine and continue down
the path we have chosen together.
THE END.
© 1997 uberscully@mailexcite.com
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