Title: Revenge
Author: Lovesfox
E-mail: Lovesfox@rogers.com (Feed me, please)
Web site: http://www.geocities.com/kim_djd/index.html
Rating: NC-17 (violence, consensual M/S sex and strong
language)
Category: Implied UST then MSR, Angst, Story/X-File
Classification: XRA
Spoilers: Not really, but up to mid-S7
Archive: As long as my name and everything stays attached
Summary: An old case of Mulder's resurfaces seeking revenge
Disclaimer: Alas, not mine. They belong to Chris Carter and
1013 Productions
Dedication: To true friendship, through thick and thin.
Thanks, T.
Warning: This story contains some scenes of violence, a
rape attempt, implied character death, references
to incest, and graphic sex.
Revenge Part 11 of 29
by Lovesfox
Leesburg Mental Hospital
Leesburg, VA
Sunday
10:15 am
Heather Baber, a reporter for the Leesburg News, one of the city's
two daily newspapers, made her way through the crowd to the tall,
balding man whom she instinctively had sensed held some position of
importance. She had seen him helping load someone, it had looked
like a dark-haired man, onto one of the ambulances a few minutes
ago, and then make his way over to a group of suited and uniformed
men.
She was careful not be too pushy, having seen that tactic fail with
other reporters on many occasions. As she got closer, she heard a
shorter, well-dressed man call the tall man 'AD Skinner'. She had
never heard that title before, and wondered what it meant. His FBI
ID badge caught her attention then, clipped to the jacket he was
wearing. The other man wore an ID badge as well, but seemed to
defer to the taller man.
FBI. Her instincts had paid off. He was important. He would know
what was going on.
She shot a glance over her shoulder, looking for Lenny, the
photographer she had arrived with in the newspaper's van. She spied
him about three feet behind her, struggling to get through with his
camera equipment.
They had been on their way back from a boring town meeting at City
Hall when their scanner had picked up the 9-1-1 call about a fire at
the old Leesburg Mental Hospital. She had told Lenny she wanted to
check it out, and he had agreed it might be worthwhile. She had not
been a reporter when the fire that had shut the hospital down had
happened, but remembered it well. The fact that there was now
another fire was quite interesting.
With the presence of the FBI, there had to be something big. Her
heart sped up a little; this could be her chance to really show her
stuff. She hoped she would be able to get to speak to this Skinner.
Heather was finally just steps away, and saw Skinner's eyes widen at
her presence. He scanned her features from head to toe, and then
his expression closed off. She wondered what that had been about,
it hadn't seemed like a man checking out a good-looking woman, but
almost like he had seen a ghost.
"Excuse me, Sir," she began, her voice modulated, polite. "I'm
Heather Baber, with the Leesburg News, and I was wondering if I
could speak to you for a few minutes."
The other FBI agent opened his mouth to speak, but Skinner beat him
to it. "What would you like to know?" he asked. She saw that he
seemed surprised to have spoken to her, as did the shorter man.
Skinner stepped closer to her, turning his back on the other men.
"Do you know why this fire was set?" Heather asked. She had her
trusty notepad and the pen her boyfriend Seth had given her ready
in her hands. She watched the muscle in Skinner's jaw flex, and
couldn't help admiring his tall, well-muscled form. She was fairly
short, only 5'4 in her heels, and he towered over her, but not in a
frightening way. She spied Lenny out of the corner of her eye,
taking pictures of the firefighters battling the fire. She knew he
would do his best to get as many pictures as he could, and turned
her attention back to Skinner.
"Elliot Andercott is a suspect wanted in the kidnapping of a Federal
Agent, and we believe he is the one who started this fire. There
is a statewide APB out on him now, but I would appreciate you
getting his name and picture in the paper. If you speak to Agent
Powell," here he turned and indicated the shorter man from earlier,
"he can provide you with a composite sketch of the suspect."
He watched as she jotted down the information and then added, "I am
Assistant Director Walter Skinner with the FBI, if you need that for
your report." He turned away from her slightly and watched as the
ambulance carrying the man he had helped load into it drove off.
Seeing her interest, he added, "Another agent was injured rescuing
the kidnapped agent." The muscle in his jaw ticked again, and then
his eyes left hers to move over to where a number of firefighters
and paramedics were still working on someone.
Heather had not been able to get close to the other injured person
for policemen had arranged themselves in a circle, shielding the
scene from prying eyes. She had only been able to make out red
hair, and was fairly certain the victim was a woman.
"Who is she?" Heather asked softly.
Skinner's head whipped back to face her, and his features were an
impenetrable mask. "We're not releasing any names as yet. Her
family has not been notified yet."
Her, Heather mused. She had been right again. She nodded, and
opened her mouth to thank him for his time. She wondered what she
should call him. Was Agent Skinner the correct form of address?
Just then, the sounds of a helicopter filled the air. Heather
looked up, as did Skinner and most everyone else on the scene. A
flurry of activity resulted. Skinner excused himself, touching her
arm briefly, and she watched as he made his way over to the other
injured agent.
Lenny joined her, nodding his chin towards the circle of policemen.
"What's up?" he asked.
"An FBI agent was inside, and another one got injured rescuing her,"
Heather replied. She angled her notepad towards Lenny, showing him
what she had jotted down. "They want us to put the suspect's name
and a picture of the composite sketch in the paper."
"Sounds big," Lenny remarked. "Got some good shots." He fiddled
with his camera and then raised it to his eye. "That's a medi-vac
chopper. She must be hurt pretty bad. I need to get a few shots
of this." With that, he moved closer to the scene that was now
unfolding.
Heather moved closer as well, watching as the police began ordering
people back, getting ready for the helicopter to land. After Lenny
got his pictures, she wanted to go to the hospital. She had a
feeling this could make for a very exciting story.
***
10:20 am
Skinner looked up at the sound of a helicopter. It was about
fucking time. Did they not realize this was an emergency? He had
an agent down. A flash of memory, of Scully's pale face and blue
lips, and he amended his words to, seriously down. He touched the
reporter's arm, Heather he thought, and excused himself.
He raced over to where the police were blocking off the area where
Scully was frantically being tended to by paramedics and
firefighters, and was allowed past. He was still surprised he had
spoken to the reporter, as it was not his normal habit to do so.
But when he had looked up and saw her there, reminding him so much
of Agent Scully, something had compelled him to move forward. At
closer look, there were only some similarities. The reporter had
shoulder length strawberry blonde hair, not Scully's shorter bobbed
red tresses, but she was about the same height as Scully, and she
had the same look of determination and strength he had so often
seen on his agent's countenance. He had also realized the
importance of getting Elliot Andercott's name and composite in the
news, to possibly aid in apprehending the man.
The police had moved everyone back, and the helicopter slowly began
to land. Skinner watched from where he stood, a few feet away from
Scully. The paramedics had her hooked up to an IV, and had removed
the rope that had bound her hands and feet. Her wrists were wrapped
in white gauze and she seemed to be breathing on her own, through
the oxygen mask over her face. She was still deathly pale, and the
expressions on the faces of the paramedics were quite serious. He
knew she was not out of the woods yet.
Finally the helicopter landed, and then they were carrying Scully,
now loaded on a stretcher, towards it. Skinner trailed helplessly
behind.
One of the paramedics climbed on board with her, where a nurse was
already checking her vital signs again. Everyone backed up as it
rose into the sky, and Skinner felt a hand touch his elbow. It was
the other paramedic. Skinner bent his head down to the man, who
yelled, "They're taking her to Walter Reed, in Washington."
"What about my other agent?" Skinner yelled back, watching, as the
helicopter became a tiny speck in the distance. "Can he be taken
there as well?"
The paramedic nodded and said, "I think that's where they were
taking him."
"Find out for sure," Skinner demanded and strode away to speak with
ASAC Powell. He saw the paramedic jog to the other ambulance.
Powell turned from the agent he had been speaking to as he caught
sight of Skinner approaching. "There's been nothing reported yet
as to the suspect. I'm arranging a press conference back in
Leesburg. Hopefully we'll make it on the noon news, get this
Andercott's picture out there."
"You can handle it, I presume?" Skinner asked, not even waiting
for Powell's reply. "I'm heading to Washington." He walked away,
barely catching Powell's answering nod, heading towards his
vehicle.
The paramedic ran over, calling, "Sir! The other agent was taken
to Walter Reed."
Skinner raised a hand in thanks, and climbed into his car. He
buckled in and started the car, painstakingly maneuvering through
the jumble of cruisers and unmarked sedans still on scene. A
number of reporters were still lingering, and he spied the young
reporter he had spoken to earlier getting into a van with Leesburg
News written on its side.
Once on the gravel road, he was able to speed up a little, but not
as fast as he would have liked. He knew he was looking at a drive
of at least 45 minutes, and that would be pushing the speed limit
as it was.
An image of Margaret Scully rose in his head all of a sudden. His
jaw tensed, he would have to call Scully's mother. She must be
frantic by now, he was not sure of the last time Mulder had spoken
to her. He wondered if it would be better if he drove to her house
and brought her in person to the hospital. It delayed his time
getting to see his agents, but he knew it could be important for
Scully's mother to be there. He tried not to think that it could
be the last time she saw her daughter.
He reached the two-lane road and sped off, heading to Baltimore to
pick up Scully's mother.
***
Margaret Scully's Residence
Baltimore, MD
Sunday
11:50 am
Margaret Scully heard the doorbell ring from her seat at the kitchen
table. Her hand shook slightly as she lowered her half-empty teacup
back to the table, and again as she smoothed her skirt when she rose
from the table. She had been feeling very uneasy since rising that
morning, even more so than usual since learning of Dana's
kidnapping, and now her nerves were working overtime. Something
told her the person at the door would not have good news. One hand
went to the cross at her neck and she clutched it for a moment,
gleaning a measure of strength.
Her heels clicked faintly on the hardwood floor as she made her way
to the door, and with a deep breath, she opened it, to reveal Dana's
boss, Walter Skinner. At the sight of his tense face and sad eyes,
Margaret felt her world crumble.
"Oh, God, Dana..." she moaned, "Please, no." Her body felt weak,
and she felt herself start that long, slow slide to the ground.
Strong hands grabbed her shoulders then, offering strength and
support.
Faintly she heard Mr. Skinner's deep bass voice saying, "Mrs.
Scully, they found her. She's...she's alive."
Margaret heard the hesitation in his words, but chose to cling to
the one that had her heart thumping painfully. Alive. Dana was
alive. She allowed him to help her into the sitting room, onto
the couch, dimly hearing the door shutting behind them. She was
trembling all over, and it was an effort to raise her head to meet
his gaze. "Where is she?" she asked, and was shocked at the
faintness of her own voice. She cleared her throat and tried
again, this time much stronger. "Where is Dana?"
Mr. Skinner had sat beside her on the sofa, on the edge of the
cushion, and he now held her hands. He squeezed them and replied,
"She's at Walter Reed Hospital, in Washington." His eyes dropped
down to his lap for a moment, and Margaret felt another moment of
panic. When he lifted them again, his face was carefully neutral.
"Agent Mulder is there as well. He was...he was injured helping
Dana."
"Fox?" she asked, voice quavering again. "Is he all right? Is
Dana all right?" She struggled to her feet. "You must tell me.
Is Dana all right?" Her voice rose at the end, almost hysterically.
He had risen with her, his hands now hovering over her shoulders, to
catch her if she started to collapse, she knew. "Mrs. Scully, Dana
is alive. I do not know the extent of her injuries, but she was
seriously hurt," he said. He grimaced a little and then continued,
"She was flown by helicopter to the hospital."
Margaret flinched inwardly, but kept her spine straight. She had to
be strong for her baby girl, and for Fox. "You're here to take me
to the hospital." It was not a question. "I'll just get my purse
and coat."
Her steps were steady as she left the room and went upstairs to
fetch her purse. She stopped briefly in the bathroom, to check her
hair and make-up, trying not to see the deep lines of stress and
worry, or the sheen of unshed tears in her eyes. In the mirror's
reflection she saw the cross around her neck, and her fingers lifted
to touch it again. She said a brief prayer for Dana and Fox, and
then squaring her shoulders, headed back downstairs.
Mr. Skinner was waiting by the door, and helped her into her coat.
He stood beside her on the porch as she locked the door behind them,
and took her elbow to walk her to his car. Buckling her seatbelt,
she watched him as he made his way to the driver's side after
closing her car door, and thought what a gentleman he was, and how
glad she was that Dana had such a supportive man as her superior.
In some ways, he reminded her of how Fox was around Dana.
Tears filled her eyes as she thought about Fox, and she blinked
them back, not wanting to give into her grief now. To do so would
be like admitting there was no hope for Dana, and she would not do
that.
She thought then about the desperation and pain she had heard in
Fox's voice each time he called to let her know that he was still
searching for Dana. She wondered when the two of them would ever
admit their love for each other, for she knew that they did,
deeply.
It was so obvious, every time they were together, shining in
their eyes, in every move, every gesture that they made. And even
when they were apart, when she spoke to Dana, or to Fox, it was in
their voices, in their words.
A sound interrupted her then, and she realized Mr. Skinner was
speaking to her. Margaret turned her head to him, saying, "I'm
sorry, I wasn't paying attention."
His small smile of understanding almost brought fresh tears to
her eyes. "I just asked if you were all right," he repeated.
His eyes flicked from her face to the road as his hands tightened
momentarily on the steering wheel.
Margaret nodded. "I'm fine," she replied. "I was thinking about
Dana and Fox." She coughed slightly, and then remembering that he
had told her Fox had been injured helping Dana, said a little
sharply, "You said Fox was hurt helping Dana. How?"
"The man who...who kidnapped Dana had taken her to a place that
held memories for him, and he set the building on fire." Hearing
her horrified gasp, he hurriedly added, "I don't think she was
burned. Mulder...Fox went into the building and brought her out."
One hand left the steering wheel and reached out to pat her hands,
which were tightly clenched in her lap. "She's going to be okay,
Mrs. Scully."
Margaret wondered which one of them he was trying to convince with
those words. She managed a nod for him, and then closed her eyes,
leaning back against the headrest. They had a bit of a drive ahead
of them.
***
Walter Reed Army Medical Center
Washington, D.C.
Sunday
12:45 pm
Skinner held Mrs. Scully's elbow as they made their way to the
Information Desk in the Emergency Department. Once there, he let
go of her to reach in his pocket for his ID badge. He held the
badge out to the woman manning the desk and said, "I'm Walter
Skinner with the FBI. We're looking for two people who were
brought here, Agent Dana Scully and Agent Fox Mulder."
As the woman began typing on the computer before her, Skinner
watched Mrs. Scully. She had been very quiet, not speaking since
he had told her how Mulder and Scully had been injured.
He had not felt up to small talk, and assumed she felt the same,
so he had not tried to engage her in conversation. The frequent
glances he had thrown her way during the almost hour-long drive
had revealed her either staring out the passenger side window, or
resting with her eyes closed.
Her face now was pale, but composed, as she waited for the woman
to answer his request. He felt a surge of admiration for her
remarkable strength and poise, and saw in that the resemblance
to his downed agent.
He clenched his jaw as his thoughts drifted again to the scene
earlier that morning. He saw Scully lying unconscious on the
ground as paramedics performed CPR on her. Saw Mulder's anguished
face as he struggled to see his partner. Saw Scully's pale face
covered by an oxygen mask as she was loaded onto the helicopter.
The woman at the desk cleared her throat and he returned his
attention to her. "Agent Scully has been taken to the Medical
Intensive Care Unit on the third floor, and Agent Mulder is in
the Emergency Department, which is just to my left." She indicated
the direction with her right hand, pointing down a short hallway to
where a sign labeled Emergency Department hung. She then said,
"The elevators are to my left, down that hall and turn left as
well."
Skinner had heard Mrs. Scully's gasp when the woman told them where
Scully was located, and he reached one hand out to touch hers, which
were resting on the counter. He then asked, "We need to see both of
them. What can you tell me of their conditions?"
"I am not provided with that information, Sir," she replied. "You
would need to speak to the Administrator of the Emergency
Department. They were both brought there on arrival."
Skinner jerked his head in a brief nod, muttering his thanks, and
led Mrs. Scully away from the counter. He could feel the fine
trembling of her body beneath his hand on her elbow, and was trying
to find a place for her to sit. She stiffened beneath him.
"I want to know how Dana is," she said. "Let's go to the Emergency
Department." She pulled away from his grasp and headed in the
direction the woman had indicated.
Skinner double-stepped to reach her side again, but did not take her
elbow this time, merely stayed close to her. In moments they were
striding through double doors into the Emergency Department. He
snagged the arm of a passing nurse, his badge already out. "I'm
with the FBI. Two of my agents were brought here earlier. Mulder
and Scully."
The nurse, whose nametag read Jenn, looked briefly at the hand on
her arm and then nodded. "I'll take you to the doctor," she said,
pulling free from his hand, and bustled down the hallway.
Skinner and Mrs. Scully followed just as quickly, and stopped when
the nurse went inside one of the examining rooms. She came out a
moment later, a bespectacled man in a white coat on her heels. The
man held out his hand to Skinner, saying, "I'm Doctor Cray. I
looked after both of the patients you are inquiring about." He
held a few charts in his other hand.
Skinner introduced himself and Mrs. Scully as he shook hands with
the doctor, explaining that she was Dana Scully's mother. He then
said, "How are they?"
Dr. Cray shook Mrs. Scully's hand as well, but maintained his hold
on her. His other hand patted the hand he held as he looked at her
with a combination of sympathy and concern.
Skinner felt his heart began to pound; sure he was about to hear the
news that Scully had died. He saw Mrs. Scully pale even further,
and that she swayed slightly. He put a supportive hand on her back.
"Mrs. Scully, your daughter is upstairs in our Intensive Care Unit.
When she arrived, our most pressing concern was that she was in
acute respiratory distress. She was intubated endotracheally, and
is currently on assisted ventilation."
At Mrs. Scully's gasp, the doctor hastened to add, "However, her
prognosis is good." He looked down and opened one of the charts he
held. After perusing it for a moment, he continued, "Her vital
signs were very weak, and her electrolytes were low. She was also
mildly dehydrated, and there were many surface contusions and
abrasions. We were also very concerned with the condition of her
wrists. It appears she had been restrained for a significant amount
of time. There were no broken bones, or deep lacerations, and she
did not receive any burns to her face or body." He looked at
Skinner then. "May I ask what happened to her? The paramedics were
quite sketchy with details when she arrived."
Skinner looked at Mrs. Scully briefly, seeing that she seemed to
have regained her composure. "Agent Scully was kidnapped and held
captive for a week. We received information this morning of her
location, and that the suspect had set the building where she was
being held on fire. Agent Mulder went into the building and carried
her out."
Mrs. Scully had made an odd sound, and he looked into her face to
see a tear running down her cheek. She looked at him, gasping,
"Fox carried her out? He saved her life!" She turned to the
doctor. "Please, may I, may we see Fox...Agent Mulder?"
Dr. Cray nodded his head. "Certainly. He's in this room right
here," he said, pointing at the door through which he had come out
of moments ago.
Skinner gave her a gentle push forward, saying, "You go ahead, Mrs.
Scully. I'd like to talk to Dr. Cray for a few minutes." He wanted
to find out more about Scully's condition, and about Mulder's as
well.
It was obvious Mulder wasn't seriously hurt; the doctor had not
hesitated when Mrs. Scully had asked to see him. He watched as
Scully's mother pushed the door and slowly went inside, before
turning back to the Doctor. "Doctor, I need to know if there was a
rape test performed on Agent Scully."
***
1:00 pm
Vaguely in the drugged haze of his mind, Mulder was aware of someone
entering the room where he lay. He knew he was in the hospital, had
heard and felt the doctors and nurses coming in and out to check on
him, and that he had been given something to relax him. He
remembered a bouncy ambulance ride that seemed to take forever, and
asking over and over again for Scully.
At the name, he struggled to open heavy-lidded eyes. A blurry
figure was walking towards him. He rasped out, "Scully?" His eyes
saw dark hair, but it took a while to register that it wasn't Scully
after all.
A cool hand was on his brow, and a soft voice was saying, "Fox, its
Maggie. Dana is all right. She's in another hospital room."
Mulder blinked rapidly, finally clearing his vision, to see Scully's
mom smiling down at him. Her words hit then, and everything came
back in a flash. He remembered the burning building, the smoke-
filled hallways, finding Scully tied to that cot, carrying her out,
falling to the ground. He saw and felt again her being pulled from
his arms, and then confusion as people swirled around him.
He zeroed in on her words. "She's all right? Scully's all right?
I need to see her." His voice was hoarse, and it hurt to talk.
He swallowed heavily, and couldn't hold back a hacking cough. He
pushed up on his elbows, and leaned to one side, to ease the pain
in his chest. More pain flared in his hands, and he allowed Mrs.
Scully to push him back on the starchy pillow.
He lifted his hands up to see that they were wrapped in white
gauze. He knew he had cut them when breaking the window, and
wondered if he had burned them somehow as well.
He looked into Mrs. Scully's eyes, and saw a range of emotions.
Relief, fear, and even compassion. "She's really all right?" he
asked her, his own eyes pleading for the truth. Although he knew
he wouldn't really believe anything until he was able to see her
with his own eyes.
Her hand stroked his brow again, and he saw that her smile was
tremulous. Worry began to gnaw at his guts, and he felt ill.
"She's in the Intensive Care Unit, Fox, but the doctor said her
prognosis was good." Her voice was steady, though he saw her hand
go up to the cross resting in the hollow of her throat to touch it
with one finger for a moment. "I have to believe that she will be
fine, and you have to as well, Fox."
The worry was still there, and a light sweat broke out all over his
body. Something was wrong. "What aren't you telling me, Mrs.
Scully?" He had to get up and see Scully. With a grunt of effort,
he heaved himself up again. His head swam with the motion, and
nausea rose in his throat.
"Fox, relax," Mrs. Scully said. "Please." She looked worried now,
and he watched her eyes dart from him to the door. "I don't think
you should be up yet. The doctor's right outside, with Mr.
Skinner. Let me get them." With that, she hurried over to the
door, shooting an anxious glance back over her shoulder at him.
Mulder took several deep breaths, and slowly the nausea and the
swimming in his head faded. He had to cough again though, and did
so, deeply. It hurt like hell. He heard the door open, and Mrs.
Scully calling the doctor urgently.
In moments, she was back at his side, the Doctor coming around to
stand at the other side of the bed. Skinner had come in as well, a
very disturbed look on his face, and stood beside Mrs. Scully.
Mulder looked from person to person, stopping at the doctor last.
"I need to get up. I have to see Scully, make sure she's all
right," he said, hating that his voice sounded so weak.
"Mister...Agent Mulder," the doctor began as he firmly pushed Mulder
back into the bed. "I'm Dr. Cray, and I saw both of you when you
were brought to the Emergency Department. I understand you went
into a burning building to save your partner's life. Commendable to
be sure, but also very dangerous. You are a very lucky man. Apart
from some cuts and some first-degree burns on your hands, and a mild
case of smoke inhalation, you escaped relatively unharmed. I do,
however, recommend bed rest for 24 hours. Often symptoms of a
serious nature due to smoke inhalation can be delayed until 24 to 36
hours after the injury." The doctor went on in detail to explain
how he had been treated upon arrival, what could still happen to
him, and why he needed to remain under observation.
"I understand, Doctor," Mulder said, after the doctor finally
stopped speaking. "I just need to see her. I'll go right back to
bed after I do."
Mrs. Scully pressed a cup of water into his hands, which he took
gratefully, albeit awkwardly. He sipped slowly, feeling the
coolness ease his sore throat. "I promise," he added. He handed
the cup back to Mrs. Scully, feeling pleased he had managed not to
spill it all over himself. It had been difficult holding it with
his hands so wrapped in gauze that they looked like he was wearing
mittens.
"Fox," Mrs. Scully broke in before the doctor could reply. "I'm
going up to see Dana now, and I promise to come back and tell you
how she is."
"Agent Mulder, your partner is in Intensive Care, and only family
members are allowed to visit," the doctor added.
Mulder frowned at him. As if that ridiculous rule was going to
stop him from seeing Scully. "She is MY partner. I will see her."
It was the doctor's turn to frown. "I guess we can make an
exception, but not until tomorrow." He paused, looking at Mrs.
Scully for a moment. "At the moment, your partner is heavily
sedated. She won't even know you were there."
She would know, Mulder thought. But he did not say the words out
loud.
Skinner had been silent the entire time, and finally added his two
cents. "Mulder, you are not getting out of this bed until the
doctor has given the all clear. If I have to, I will stay here to
insure that you do not."
The doctor cleared his throat. "I have other patients to see.
Agent Mulder, I'll check back on you in a few hours. Please try and
get some rest, and ease up on the talking. It's not really aiding
in your recovery." He nodded politely at them all and left the room.
Mrs. Scully ran her hand over his forehead again and then leaned in
and placed a kiss on it as well. Her eyes welled with tears, but
she fought them back, and whispered, "Thank-you for saving my baby
girl. That was an incredibly brave thing you did, Fox. I don't
think I can thank you enough." She straightened, smoothing her hand
down his cheek and then patting his arm. "I'll come back after I've
seen Dana."
Mulder felt tears rise in his own eyes. How could she be thanking
him? It was his fault her daughter had been taken in the first
place. He did not tell her this though, merely whispered, "Give
Scully a kiss for me, please, Mrs. Scully. Tell her...tell her I'll
be there as soon as I can." He watched as she nodded, and then
walked from the room. He wanted so much to be going with her. He
knew he would not rest properly until he saw Scully.
The door swished shut behind her, and then he was alone with
Skinner. Mulder said, "Help me get this bed up, would you?" After
Skinner had complied, even helping him shove the pillows more
comfortably behind his head, Mulder demanded, "What aren't you
telling me?"
Skinner's jaw flexed and he looked away for a moment. His face was
blank, but his eyes betrayed his feelings. "I asked the doctor if
they performed a rape kit on Scully when she was brought in." His
gaze flicked away again, he was clearly disturbed about the matter.
"They hadn't, because it's not standard procedure every time a
patient is brought to the emergency. He said if they had had more
information about what had happened, they would have. He ordered
one to be completed now." He paused, and then said, "The initial
report when she was brought in said there were abrasions and
bruising on her inner thighs, which could be consistent with sexual
assault."
"Why the hell wouldn't that have triggered an alarm?" Mulder almost
yelled. His pulse was jumping madly at his throat. He was
remembering the phone call from Elliot, when he had called bragging
about his attack on Scully. He heard that oily voice again.
His teeth clenched with rage, and he gasped with pain when he
unwittingly tried to clasp his hands into fists.
"I asked him that, and he didn't really have an answer. He said she
had a lot of bruising and abrasions all over her body, and that they
were more concerned with getting her stabilized." Skinner rubbed
one hand over his jaw. Weariness was evident in every line of his
body. He went over and grabbed a chair from against the far wall,
and brought it to beside Mulder's bed, sinking into it with a sigh.
"Powell had his men searching the hospital property, but there was
no sign on Andercott. Do you think he was inside the building?"
Mulder had forced himself to relax. He shrugged his shoulders,
wincing slightly at the pain the movement caused in his chest, and
replied, "I don't know. I wasn't really looking for him. I just
concentrated on finding Scully."
He had to blink rapidly then, to stop the images that were forming
in his brain. The flames, the smoke. Scully tied to the cot.
Scully not breathing.
Something must have shown on his face, because Skinner said,
"Mulder, why don't you close your eyes and get some rest. I'm
going to go out and make some calls, check on things. I'll come
back in a little while." He rose, the chair squeaking slightly,
and patted Mulder's arm. "Take it easy, okay?"
Mulder nodded and watched Skinner leave the room. He was tired,
and sore, and the sedative they had given him still lingered in
his system. He had been fighting it. If he couldn't go see Scully,
he might as well rest up until he could. He took slow, even
breaths, and his eyes slowly closed. Within moments he was asleep.
He dreamed of Scully.
***
Pleasant dreams. Beautiful dreams. Sexy dreams.
>>The sound of her laughter tinkling in his ears. His witty comment
had not drawn its usual close-lipped smile or trademark eyebrow, but
full-blown laughter. Her eyes twinkled at him, complimenting him on
his sense of humor and intelligence. Mulder felt his heart stop,
and then begin a slow, steady thumping as he beheld the vision of
Scully before him. Her hand came out and laid itself with
gentleness on his arm, and she squeezed it lightly, breezily saying
his name. He allowed himself to put his arm around her shoulders,
waiting for her to tense and pull away, but she did not. Instead
she leaned into the embrace, on her lips a now tiny smile. A smile
of friendship, and companionship. And maybe of love. It felt so
right. So peaceful<<
>>Scully's bedroom was candlelit, and smelled faintly of peaches,
the scent of Scully. The scent that made his nostrils flare and
his insides quiver. Mulder's footsteps were light but sure as he
crossed the patterned rug that adorned her hardwood floor. Towards
the woman waiting in the bed, where crisp linens and downy comforter
had been pushed to the bottom. Scully lay, her head slightly
propped by a pillow, her body sheathed in silk. It draped
enticingly in all the right places. Places that drew his eyes, and
had his pulse soaring. She was smiling, her look so seductive and
yet so innocent, that it played with his heartstrings and filled
his mind with thoughts of joining her in a ritual as old as time.
He shrugged his shoulders, the robe that had been his only adornment
sliding down to pool on the floor, and felt the mattress dip beneath
his knee. In one graceful movement he was covering her, feeling the
heat of her body pressing against his. Her hands twining in his
hair, his lips covering hers<<
>>They staggered through his apartment door; lips fused together,
barely managing to shut it behind them. Their stumbling footsteps
took them to his leather couch, bumping the backs of his legs, upon
which he sank down, pulling Scully with him so that she now
straddled his lap. He never once relinquished her lips. His hands
dived into her hair, angling her head to better deepen his kiss,
before sliding down her back to grasp her bottom. He squeezed once,
and then her hands were on his shirt, frantically plucking at the
buttons. Gasps and groans as each fought for air. He let his lips
travel along her jaw line and down to her neck, pausing to suck at
the pulse skittering rapidly there. "Mul-der..." his name was a
drawn out sigh, and then her hands were on his bare chest, having
successfully opened his shirt. Her lips went to his neck, sucking
and nibbling. Her hands rubbed the flesh she had revealed, stroking
his pectorals, before flicking a fingernail over one erect nipple.
Mulder groaned and tightened his hold on her ass, pushing her more
firmly against the ache in his groin. His hips lifted slightly,
thrusting<<
Sounds interrupted his subconscious, and he shifted restlessly in
the narrow hospital bed. "...Agent Mulder? Are you in pain? You
were moaning. Agent Mulder?"
Mulder opened his eyes with a gasp, his heart racing, to see a nurse
leaning over him. He was extremely thankful that several blankets
covered him, helping to disguise a certain part of his anatomy that
had reacted to his dreams. Scully...
He gasped again when the nurse pulled the blankets away to pull out
his arm, worried she would see more of him then he wanted her to.
He could not grasp them with his mittened hands, so he did the next
best thing, clamping them down by his sides, effectively keeping the
blankets up to his chest.
"I'm sorry, Agent Mulder. Did I startle you?" the nurse asked.
It was Jenn, the nurse who had been assigned to him, and she wore
a look of concern. "I came in to check your vitals, and you were
moaning and tossing on the bed. Are you in any pain?"
Mulder almost laughed. He was in pain, but not the kind she meant.
He shook his head. "Just dreaming," he said, not explaining any
further.
His thoughts turned to Scully as Jenn went about taking his blood
pressure and pulse. He hated knowing she was lying unconscious
somewhere in the hospital, not near him.
He realized then that he was in another kind of pain as well. The
pain of not being able to see her, to touch her, to know that she
really was all right. As much as he worried about her and missed
her though, he would not be ashamed of his dreams of her. He knew
they were a manifestation of his love and desire for her. Always
there, but tamped down. Hidden. But no longer. The first chance
he got, he was telling her everything. He just hoped she felt the
same way.
Jenn took his temperature next and then said, "I'll bring your pain
pills in a moment, okay?" She gathered up her stethoscope and
pushed the monitor cart out with her. She came back moments later
with a plastic medicine cup containing two white pills which she
placed on the little rolling table. She pushed it closer to the
bbed for him, and poured a Styrofoam cup full of iced water. She
handed him the water and watched as he shifted upwards and dutifully
swallowed the pills, before taking the cup back from him and
returning it to the table. With a pat on his arm, she left the
room.
Mulder sank back into the pillow and shifted a little, trying to
get more comfortable. Thankfully his erection had faded, and he
managed to roll partially onto his side. His eyes slowly slid
shut.
Maybe he would dream of Scully again.
***
end Part 11 of 29
Text file Source (historic): geocities.com/kim_djd
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