TITLE: The Way Things Are

AUTHOR: Sukie Tawdry

EMAIL: sukie_tawdry@hotmail.com <mailto:sukie_tawdry@hotmail.com>

RATING: NC-17

SPOILERS: Season 1

CATEGORY: Guess you could call it AU. Diverges

from canon some time during season 1.

KEYWORDS: Story, M/S (some elements of M/other)

DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me. Sniff

SUMMARY: One night and their whole lives were changed

forever.

FEEDBACK: Good or not so good--go ahead. I can

take it. I'm a big girl.

ARCHIVE: Again, go ahead.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thanks go to Sybils for wonderful beta and support.

And a big thank you to Foxymulderluver for giving this

story a home on her website:

<http://www.oocities.org/foxymulderluver>

Part 7 - Confinement

Her first sensation was needing to go to the bathroom. Nothing

new there--she was four months pregnant and pretty much always

had to go to the bathroom. Head throbbing, Scully opened her eyes

to find herself lying on a hospital bed in a white-painted room.

The room was nearly featureless--no decoration and no furniture

beyond the bed and a small bed stand. She could see a white tile

bathroom, the door of which had been removed. "So much for

privacy," she muttered, her mouth dry as cotton.

Her legs were wobbly as she slid off the bed. She remembered

kissing Mulder, walking to her apartment and then nothing. Scully's

hand flew to her mouth, suddenly recalling the sweet smelling cloth

that had covered her face and obliterated the world for a while.

Had the smell been chloroform? Forcing her panic down, she tried

to recall what chloroform smelled like. Arms protectively wrapped

around her belly, she prayed that whatever the hell they'd used on

her, hadn't hurt the baby.

A fragment of a song played in her head. She couldn't remember

where she'd heard it, but with a hand on her belly, she whispered

the words, "Nothing's gonna harm you, not while I'm around."

Dear God, she was losing her mind--humming show tunes, no less.

"Big talk, huh, baby. Haven't been so successful in the protection

department, have I."

Her clothes had been replaced by a blue and white patterned hospital

gown. From the draft on her backside, she determined that she wasn't

wearing anything underneath. A stack of identically printed gowns

sat on the end of the bed, and she slipped one on to act as a

bathrobe, covering her bare back.

The floor was cold as she walked to the bathroom. The whole room

felt chilled, especially with her less than adequate clothing. A

wave of dizziness hit as she glanced up at the ceiling, spotting

several closed-circuit cameras. She shivered, realizing every move,

every breath she took was being monitored.

Her desire for privacy was overcome by the pressure on her bladder,

and she walked into the bathroom. Physical needs met, she washed

her hands, glancing around the room. Lots and lots of white tile

and not much else. A commode, sink and open shower were all the

room contained. Everything was recessed and out of reach: light

fixtures, soap dispenser, even the toilet tank. There was nothing

she could use to defend herself or escape.

She tottered back to the main room, trying the handle on the door.

Of course, it was locked, as she assumed it would be. There was a

small window in the door, and she had to stand on tiptoe to see

through the wire-mess embedded in the glass. A blank wall was the

only view available. She fought the urge to pound on the door in

hysterics. She jiggled the door handle again, a little more

desperately this time.

Scully examined the nightstand to find the drawer and cabinet

section were locked tight. She climbed onto the bed, wracking her

mind for anything she could use to her advantage. Trying to force

her eyelids to stay open was becoming harder and harder as the

residual effects of the drugs in her system took their toll.

She fought to stay awake, but sleep overtook her.

She woke to the sound of the door being unlocked. Scully climbed

out of bed as two people entered the room. Both were in hospital

scrubs, their heads covered by paper operating room hats and their

lower faces by sterile masks. The taller of the two individuals

was a woman, though her body was bulky. The man was short but

extremely muscular, biceps bulging against the short sleeves of

his scrub top.

"Dr. Scully, I see you've awakened from your afternoon nap. What

lovely timing. We're going to take a little trip." The woman's

voice was melodious, lilting and quite ominous.

"Don't come near me!" Scully shouted, as the two approached. "I'm

a federal agent! Let me go!" The woman's eyes and broad pink

forehead were all Scully could see of her face. The eyes were pale

blue, the eyelashes so blond they appeared white, giving her a

strange rabbit-like appearance. The woman seemed to enjoy Scully's

protestations, smiling through the mask.

Scully fought, using her FBI training, bloodying the man's nose to

her great satisfaction. She lashed out with her feet, getting in

some effective kicks, but eventually found herself overpowered. The

man caught Scully's arms, twisting them behind her back and forcing

her face down onto the bed.

"NO! Stop this now!" Scully cried out, voice muffled by the blankets.

"I'm pregnant! Don't hurt my baby--stop!"

"We're well aware of your condition, Dr. Scully. I had hoped to

avoid drugging you again, but you leave me little choice." Again,

the cheerful, terrible voice. Scully face was pushed into the

mattress, muffling her screams. She could feel cold air on her

backside as her gown was flipped up. "But, you'll be relieved to

know, this won't hurt your baby at all."

Scully felt the sting and burn of an injection in her hip. She

continued to flail under the strong man's hands, but gradually,

her movements became sluggish. She was powerless as they easily

hoisted her onto the bed.

Laying in a drugged stupor, Scully felt herself lifted onto a

gurney. She tried to move, but her arms and legs wouldn't obey

her commands. Even her voice would not work. She was screaming

in her head, but no sound escaped her lips.

She couldn't keep her eyes open against the bright lights as they

wheeled her out of her room. Scully knew only the sensations of

movement and rough handling as the gurney came to a halt. Her last

impression before succumbing to complete oblivion was having her

bare feet placed in cold metal stirrups.

Scully came back to herself with the sensation of cramping. Her

eyes flew open in alarm, fear sweeping away the tendrils of

unconsciousness. She lay curled on her side in the hospital bed,

arms protectively hugging her midsection even in sleep.

Memories of being overpowered came back--the rabbit-eyed woman and

her muscular helper. The woman's sing-song voice grated in Scully's

mind, the pleasant words belying the heartless message.

Scully ran nervous hands over her rounded abdomen. There seemed to

be a tacky residue on her skin. Her fingers found a bandaid, high

on her belly. There was another bandaid at the crook of her

arm, the adhesive pinching her sensitive skin. She pulled that one

off, examining the needle mark and bruising on her arm.

What had happened to her? She reached between her legs, closing her

eyes in disgust as she detected the slipperiness of lubricant.

Someone had performed a pelvic exam, and most likely amniocentesis.

Scully felt chills, realizing that her pregnancy was at the very

early limit for that test. She bit her lip, imagining the large

needle used in that test, picturing it piercing her innocent baby.

God, if they'd hurt this child, she would hunt them down and kill

them without a second thought.

There was a tray on the bed stand, containing a dish with a metal

cover, a container of milk and a small box of cereal. She lifted

the cover to find eggs, toast and bacon. Pushing the tray away,

she lay back on the bed. Even the innocuous box of corn flakes

was suspect in this nightmare place.

Mulder had tried to warn her. She'd discounted his words; assuming

he was simply terrified of fatherhood. She owed him an apology

and sincerely hoped she'd get the opportunity to deliver it. The

thought that she might never see Mulder again nearly brought tears

to her eyes, but she refused to let *them* see her cry. If she

started to cry, she might never stop.

She knew he must have been frantic when she didn't answer the phone

the night he'd dropped her off at her apartment. He had always

taken his responsibility to her seriously--to watch her back, to

be there for her. She prayed that he wouldn't do anything foolish

in his anxiety.

Her family would be terribly worried. She hated the idea of her

mother, so recently widowed, trying to deal with the disappearance

of her youngest daughter.

The sound of the lock turning brought her out of her thoughts.

The door swung open and Dr. Rabbitface entered the room with

a fresh tray in her hand. She placed it atop the untouched tray

from breakfast.

"How are we feeling today?" she asked, her voice slightly

muffled by the mask on her face. Holding Scully's wrist,

she took her pulse. "Any cramping? Spotting?"

"Go to hell." Scully pulled her wrist out of the woman's grasp.

"If you don't answer my questions, Dr. Scully, the orderlies

will hold you down while I examine you." Rabbitface's tone was

reasonable and even as she reached into her pocket for a pair

of latex gloves.

"Some cramping. No spotting," Scully enunciated carefully.

Happy now?"

"See how much easier it is when you cooperate?" The woman eyed

the stack of trays. "You must eat, Dr. Scully," she said, her

voice dripping with concern. "It isn't healthy for the baby."

"I'm sure you were terribly concerned about my baby when you

performed tests on her."

Rabbitface took the untouched breakfast tray. "The health of

your child is of paramount importance to me. I expect you to

eat your lunch. You won't like the consequences if you don't

do as I say."

The door closed after the woman with a chilling finality.

Scully pulled the blankets around her a bit closer. She tried

to remember the last meal she'd eaten. How many days had it been

since dinner on the way back from Fredericksburg? She ignored

the hunger pangs, still unwilling to eat anything brought by

Rabbitface.

Why did they keep the room so cold? Was it to keep her huddled

in bed? That tactic was apparently working as she shivered

and looked around the brightly lit room.

The lights never dimmed here. She wasn't sure how much time

had passed with no cues except the meal trays. For all she

knew, it had been four in the morning when lunch was delivered.

Scully dozed on and off, eyes closed against the light.

Scully was awake this time when the door was unlocked. She

slid out of bed, not wanting them to find her at a disadvantage.

Dr. Rabbitface entered followed by two orderlies, one of

whom carried a fresh meal tray. The woman eyed Scully

with disappointment, as she examined the untouched luncheon

tray. "We can't have this, Dr. Scully. I would rather not

resort to force feeding. Hmm...perhaps a little aversion

therapy is in order."

The woman turned to the orderlies and nodded in Scully's

direction. "Hold her."

Scully fought, but was no match for the two orderlies. She

was quickly restrained her between them. Rabbitface smiled

sweetly as she untied the strings of Scully's hospital gown,

snatching it away. Goosebumps rose on bare skin.

Scully struggled between the two smirking orderlies. Rabbitface

stripped the sheets from the bed and gathered up the stack of

hospital gowns. She went into the bathroom and returned with a

small pile of towels.

"Perhaps a little exposure will stimulate your appetite,

Dr. Scully. You'll be happy to know that this won't harm

your baby at all." Glancing at the orderly, the woman smiled.

"I imagine surveillance won't be such a chore now."

In a voice laden with reason and sympathy, Rabbitface

continued, "Now, you needn't worry that the food is drugged.

You've seen how easily we can subdue you. There is simply no

reason to add anything to your food. Now, if you eat your dinner

and all your meals tomorrow, we'll see about returning your gown.

Good night, my dear."

They left, carrying every scrap of fabric out of the room.

Shivering in the cold air, Scully eyed the dinner tray.

"Fuck them," she muttered, curling up on the bare mattress.

They must have increased the air-conditioning. The room felt

like a meat locker, and Scully shivered under the bright lights.

She wrapped her arms protectively around her belly, as if she

could protect her child from the evil that permeated the very

air of this place.

Her mother would tell her to pray to God for protection, but

Scully wasn't sure if God was listening these days. She'd

seen so many monsters--all too human creatures, preying on

those who couldn't fight back. If God was out there,

he'd apparently turned a blind eye.

When she had been young, faith was easy and the world had

seemed good and true. The prayers of her childhood were

comforting chants, whispered in the darkness of her bedroom.

Purely as meditation, Scully began to recite those prayers now.

Her doubt in God's interest did not take away any of the comfort

in repeating the words over and over. She found the greatest

succor from the "Hail Mary." Perhaps she just identified with

another pregnant woman who found herself in tough times.

Morning came in the form of a fresh breakfast tray delivered

by an orderly. Scully had spent part of the night shivering

and weighing the danger of possibly drugged food against

becoming weak from hunger. She had little doubt that further

refusal to eat would result in a nasogastric tube or worse.

Ever practical, Scully consumed most of her breakfast.

She ignored the smug look in her nemesis' pale blue eyes when

the breakfast tray was traded for a lunch tray.

After Scully had eaten her dinner, Rabbitface appeared with

hospital gowns, sheets and a blanket. Her voice throbbed

with satisfaction and triumph. "It's so much nicer,

isn't it, when we do as we're told."

Scully resisted the urge to spit at the woman. Rabbitface

left carrying the empty dinner tray, and Scully reached

for a hospital gown.

The days seemed to blend together with nothing to distinguish

each one. Scully tried to keep track of the time by

counting the trays of food that had come into the room.

With the three trays that she hadn't eaten, she counted

two dozen meals.

It was after the twenty-fourth meal tray that Scully began to

feel dizzy. She lay in bed, wishing the room would stop

spinning as Rabbitface entered the room.

"There was somethin' in the food, wasn' there?" Scully

slurred. She struggled to sit up. There were now two

rabbitface'd women, smirking at Scully. One of them

pushed her back on the bed.

"Why Dr. Scully, I'm crushed that you can ask that," the

woman said with mock indignation. Hands held her down

as she thrashed weakly on the bed. "You just need a little

nap."

<><><><>

In case you were curious, the line Scully sang was from "Nothing's

Going to Harm You," from Stephen Sondheim's Sweeney Todd.