Senator Sorenson tried to intimidate her. "I'm going to ask you again. Where is Special Agent Mulder? Why is he not here?"
"I'd be happy to answer your questions about the man carrying the diplomatic pouch . . ." She stared back, not intimated at all.
"Agent Scully."
". . . about his murder and my opinion about its connection to the death of Dr. Bonita Charne-Sayre of the World Health Organization . . ." she continued, ignoring the interruption.
"Miss Scully, you'll get your chance with all of that . . ."
". . .or about the biotoxin being transported within that pouch," she plowed on.
"Answer the question, Miss Scully." Okay, he was angry now. Scully took a breath to respond again.
"What is the question?" They all gasped and turn to see Mulder at the back of the room.
Senator Romine pounded the gavel. "All right. Let's come to order. Agent Scully . . . do continue."
"Yes, sir. If I may I'd like to finish making my point."
"What is your point, Miss Scully?" Mr. Romaine sounded more tired than anything else.
"That the death of Doctor Charne-Sayre, given her field of expertise, not only suggests that she knew something about the toxin, but also its origins, and that knowledge may be directly linked to the man in Assistant Director Skinner's apartment building."
Skinner entered the room then and his steps faltered as he spotted Mulder. He continued to Scully's side and whispered to her.
"Miss Scully?" Senator Sorenson sounded impatient and angry now.
"Yes, sir, uh, Assistant Director Skinner has just informed me that there has been an accident directly related - "
"An accident?"
"A doctor, infected with the toxin, has died under suspicious circumstances involving a theft of evidence . . . of the contents of the diplomatic pouch . . ."
"Well, we've gotten off to a real fine start here. I'm going to recess now until
this new matter can be explained, so that we might then begin to move in a
forward direction." Senator Romine pounded the gavel again, releasing everyone.
Scully pushed away from the table and moved toward her Mulder. Her arms went around him despite the audience.
"It's good to put my arms around you . . . both of them," he spoke in a low voice to her. She didn't understand the words, but it felt good.
*****
They were back and exhausted. The hearing had been postponed indefinitely; just as well, the Senators didn't want to hear what they had to say anyway. They were at his apartment. She was in her regular corner, her head laid back and eyes closed. Mulder was in the opposite corner, one leg bent, his knee resting on the couch as he watched her.
"You went to prison for me?" He still couldn't seem to wrap his head around that.
She brought her head up and looked over at him, smiling. "It was a senator's prison, Mulder, you were in a gulag."
He shrugged.
"In case I haven't said it, thanks for ditching me again."
He chuckled then. "Much as I missed you, I'm glad you weren't there."
"And you don't know what happened to Krycek?"
He shook his head. "He jumped out of the back of the truck. I wasn't exactly able to go after him. And then I wrecked the truck. When I came to . . ."
She waited, but he didn't continue.
"You lost some weight."
"Their idea of protein wasn't exactly appetizing."
She winced but he could feel her appraising him. It didn't look like her look was entirely clinical either, which felt kind of nice.
"You need some dinner."
"We can order something in later. Couldn't we just sit here for a while?"
"Uh, sure." It did feel nice. "What aren't you telling me?"
To her surprise he moved closer to her and let his arm rest on the couch behind her
"Who me?"
"Muld - "
His arm left the back of the couch and curled it around her. With his other hand he reached for her hand, encircling her with his arms. She didn't resist. They sat in silence then. She was a little surprised when his head came to rest on her shoulder as well, his nose nuzzling her throat. "Mmm, Scul - " Then he was asleep at her side.
She looked down at him and smiled. It was nice that he was comfortable enough to be this relaxed around her. She wasn't really sleepy now. What she really wanted was a shower and to clean up, but she didn't want to leave. Mulder wouldn't mind if she showered here. He was asleep anyway and she just didn't feel like being apart from him yet. Maybe the time he'd spent in Russia had affected her too. She gave him a few more minutes to ensure he was really asleep. He needed to eat, but a nap couldn't hurt. She moved carefully and had him recline on the couch. He didn't wake, making himself comfortable with his arm under his cheek.
She smiled, then headed into the kitchen to see what he had. It suddenly came to her that she hadn't really seen him eat since he got back. She opened his freezer and looked around. She couldn't really cast stones, the only things that didn't have a national logo on them in her own freezer were from her mother. There was a time she cooked as well, but not in ages. She was grateful her mother sent leftovers home with her, but it was a little embarrassing that she never reciprocated. With a chuckle she noted that she wasn't the only one and pulled out a container of her mother's homemade chicken noodle soup. Mulder liked the big wide noodles. Scully slipped the container in the microwave and headed for the shower.
She luxuriated in the shower, washing her hair and just standing as the warm water sluiced down her body. With regret she finally decided to get out and wrapped his big blue and gray plaid robe around her. He never used it and she wasn't ready to put her old clothes back on. Running her fingers through her hair, she opened the door and a sound stopped her.
She turned toward the living room and heard Mulder whimper. What the hell? Mulder was on the couch, flat on his back now, his arms by his side. His lips were pressed together so tightly his normally full lips were a line. He was whimpering but couldn't seem to move.
"Mulder, Mulder, wake up. It's me, it's Scully. You're at your apartment, you're safe." He couldn't hear her. She moved closer. "Mulder? You're safe." She touched his face and he screamed. She jerked back startled and he sat up, blinking.
"Mulder? Can you hear me?"
"Scully?"
"Yes. You're home. It's okay, it was only a dream."
He shuddered violently and let his face drop into his hands. She took a seat beside him on the couch, her arm going around him.
"Talk to me, Mulder."
He shook his head. "You need to get home."
"No. I don't want to leave you - ."
"I'm okay. You can go on home and - "
"No. Why don't you go take a shower and relax a little? I'll fix us some dinner - "
"I'm not hungry."
"When did you last eat?"
"Scully, I'm fine. I'll just - "
"You'll feel better and so will I. Just do it, Mulder."
He blinked at that, trying to come up with a better argument, but saw her eyebrow starting its ascent. Okay, he could take the shower, maybe relax a little. He used his hands to shove himself up off the couch and headed for the bathroom. She watched with a worried expression, even his gait was exhausted.
That was a nightmare she hadn't seen before. He'd been stiff, restrained . . . tortured. What had happened to him in Russia?
She took a deep breath and rose. Didn't he have some of her sweats in the closet? Scully found what she was looking for and dressed, feeling better in the comfort of the soft, worn clothing.
Then she headed to the kitchen and moved the soup to a pot and began heating it in earnest. She turned up the heat, stirring it, then getting the bowls down from the cabinet.
The water cut off and Scully stirred the soup one more time. She turned when Mulder entered the kitchen. He was looking her up and down. "You found my stash."
"Excuse me?"
"I was going to take up cross dressing."
"Then you need a taller partner," she said dryly and he managed a small smile even as he shook his head.
"You ready for some of Mom's soup?"
"It does smell good."
"Good. Take a seat."
"I'm not sure I - "
"Just eat what you can." She placed a bowl in front of him, then filled one for herself. His had considerably more chicken and noodles than hers, but he kept quiet. After a couple of spoonfuls, his appetite was triggered and he finished the bowl. "More?"
"No, thanks, I'm good. I need to let you get home."
"Mulder, I - "
"Really," he rose from the table and took his bowl to the sink. "Thanks for dinner."
"I don't want to go, not yet."
"Scully - " He looked down to see her standing in his way, her hand pressing against his chest, over his heart.
*****
He sighed, comfortable in an uneasy way. How the hell had she talked him into letting her stay and him taking the bed, such as it was? Hell, he had no idea when he'd last slept in here. It was a cinch it had been months, maybe a year. Look at all the stuff that had accumulated. He was a little fuzzy on the process, but here he was in bed and she was out there in her old sweats on his couch.
What if he had the nightmare again? What do you mean, if, you wimp. It's inevitable. He'd had it every time he'd closed his eyes since . . . Once he was sure she was asleep, he'd turn the light back on and read or something.
He hadn't taken his utter exhaustion into account. Now he jerked awake to find her on the other side of the mattress, her hand on his arm, murmuring those most precious of words. "I'm here, Mulder. It's okay, I'm right here."
Not giving himself time to think, he grasped her, pinning her to his chest, holding on for dear life.
*****
She wasn't sure how she had done it, but she was here, and he was safely tucked in and probably already asleep if his movements were any indication. He'd been adamant about not discussing the nightmare, but at least she was here and though it had never been mentioned, she knew he slept better when she was close by. She'd seen him get more rest on airplane flights in those cramped seats with her beside him than any motel room with shared walls. That was fine with her, she didn't feel as though she offered him nearly as much support as he offered her, though he would never see it that way. This little thing was easy enough to do.
She settled in on the couch and pulled the afghan up over her shoulders.
The moaning was what woke her and she glanced over at the clock. Less than an hour since they'd gone to bed. She jumped to her feet and hurried to the bedroom, leaving the door open to let in light. It was the same, he was lying flat on his back, stiff, his arms down by his side, his lips clamped shut. She didn't want to touch his face again, that had obviously made things worse last time, but she needed to touch him. She crawled in on the other side of the bed and sat on her knees.
"Mulder? Mulder, it's me, Scully. I'm here Mulder. It's okay, I'm right here." She caressed his arm and his eyes flew open, scanning the room quickly and coming to rest on her. Before she could take a breath, she was pressed against him, listening to his heart pound in his chest, as though he'd been running a marathon. God, what was this one? Her arms went around him as well and she held him just as tightly.
When his breathing evened out, his grip began to slacken a little and she eased back to look at him. "Mulder?"
"Told you you should have gone home," he managed to quip.
"I'm glad I'm here."
He gaped at her, but didn't speak. She looked down at his arm then and her eyes widened. Shit, he'd forgotten he'd taken off his t-shirt. Her fingers were exploring the injection site on his arm for an instant, then she had his other arm in her hands and was investigating the other site, in his elbow.
"What is this?"
"It doesn't matter, Sc - "
"What is it? It does matter. It matters to me. Talk to me, Mulder. What did they do to you?"
"I don't want to . . . " His voice trailed off as he watched her retreat, only slightly with her body, but her demeanor was louder.
"Fine, I understand." She moved to leave the bed and his arm was just a blur latching onto her.
"Scully."
"I was trying to help."
"You are, Scully. I . . . "
"I don't think so. I shouldn't have pushed you. You're not ready to talk about
it, at least not with me -
"If I talk about it, it would only be with you."
She blinked at that and they both seemed to realize he was holding her in place. Reluctantly he released her, but to his relief she didn't bolt.
"They hurt you."
He huffed a laugh, but didn't look or sound amused. "Yeah, they hurt me."
"Drugs? Maybe the nightmare is from residual drugs in your system." She didn't understanding the look of utter panic on his face. "It will be okay, Mulder. The drugs will wear off and - "
"You're not helping, Scully."
She opened her mouth, then shut it again, waiting. She wasn't really surprised when he pulled her against him again. After a couple of minutes he shuddered, then spoke. "Let's move out to the couch."
She nodded and rose, then waited for him. He was clumsy rising from the mattress and her hand came out automatically to steady him. Instead he took her hand in his and led her to the living room.
She took her seat after gathering up the afghan, but he sat much closer than usual, seeming to need to be close to her.
"Tell me what you need, Mulder."
He shook his head. "To forget?"
"That doesn't sound like you," she mused, watching him.
"Yeah, I guess it doesn't."
"It was bad." He nodded, though she hadn't asked a question. Then as though he had no control, the memory seemed to take him over. She watched his lips compress as he held them tightly shut. She saw his breathing quicken and his skin flush. He was living the nightmare right now. Scully took his arm. "I'm right here."
It didn't help. He wasn't seeing her, his eyes distant, staring at something she couldn't see. Even as she watched, sweat broke out on his forehead and she knew he was headed toward hyperventilation.
"Mulder, slow down your breathing. Concentrate on each breath." She started to rise and he grasped her arm. "I'm going to get you a wet cloth. I'm not leaving."
It took a second, but he released her and she raced to the kitchen, it was closer, and grabbed a clean dishcloth out of the drawer. She dampened it and hurried back. She could see his breathing slow after she resumed her seat. Thank goodness she'd talked her way onto his couch tonight.
She cooled his face and realized he was fixed on her eyes, so she met his look with reassurance. Whatever had happened was bad, much worse than she had imagined. "That's better. Do you want to lie down?"
He finally closed his eyes at that and before she could move out of his way, had his head in her lap, stretching out on the couch. Well, okay, he needed this. Her hand brushed through his hair and she looked a little closer at the abrasion on his forehead.
"Scully?"
"Right here."
Even though his eyes were closed, he smiled. "Thank you."
"Just relax, maybe you can get some sleep now."
He opened his eyes then and shook his head. "Not sure I want to try."
"You've got to get some rest. You're running on empty."
"Not anymore." He gave her hand a little squeeze. She felt him tense, but before she could speak he continued. "They tortured me."
She swallowed, but made no other movement. "They didn't want to know anything, they needed test subjects."
"Test subjects?"
"The black rock, you said you saw the oil things that crawled into . . . " He had to stop for an instant and her eyes widened. He nodded. "We were immobilized, strapped down on tables by damn chicken wire. We couldn't even turn our heads. Then, then they poured . . . "
"Oh my god."
"I don't . . . know what happened while those things . . ." he shuddered again and she started to speak but he continued. "They took over, I can't remember. This shot," he pointed to his shoulder, "was a vaccine. I don't remember getting it, but I saw others that did. Then they took my blood, to test." He indicated his elbow. "Apparently it worked on some of us. We were taken back to our cells, others weren't. Do you really think it can wear off, that those things - "
"No. No, I don't. I don't think you would have been released, even to go back to your room, if every indication was that there was no more contamination." She hesitated then.
"You want to take my blood too," he said softly.
"I need to examine it, you. Mulder, I want to make sure you're healthy . . . safe."
"Safe," he laughed but it wasn't pretty.
"Yes, safe, Mulder, from whatever they did to you. I need to know you're okay."
"You need?"
A little color tinted her cheeks then. "Yes, I need, I need to know you're okay."
He blinked, then met her eyes again. "Can you do the testing you need?"
"I don't want to take this to the Bureau, that's for certain. The guys?"
"You'll make their day." He grinned when she snorted, it was a feminine little snort but a snort just the same and it sounded so . . . normal.
"I should take the blood as soon as possible."
"No vampire supplies here, Scully."
"I have my kit in the trunk of my car."
He seemed to nestle into her lap a little deeper. "You'll come right back?"
"If I'm going vampire on you, I need to be where you are," she said lightly and he nodded.
She was back before he even expected her. She must have sprinted to her car and ignored the elevator. It made him feel better, though he couldn't have stated exactly why.
She was very gentle at taking his blood and he silently vowed she'd be the only one to take anything from now on if he had anything to say about it.
"Are you, we going over there now?" he asked when she was finished.
Scully didn't even look at a clock. "Nope, it's too late or early." She took the small vials of blood into the kitchen and he heard the refrigerator open and close. She returned with a box of juice. Hell, he'd started buying those because they didn't go bad while he was away but it looked a little ridiculous when she stuck the straw in and handed it to him. He dutifully drank it and looked over at her sheepishly. "Now what?"
"Now, you try to sleep." She saw his shudder and moved closer. "I'll be here. Come on; get comfortable again, like you were while we talked." She actually patted her thigh, but no innuendos came to him. She was offering to be there for him and he didn't want to scare her away. After a moment, he stretched out again and placed his head in her lap.
"What about you?"
"Don't worry about me right now. The beds in senate prison aren't that bad."
He grinned and closed his eyes as her hand caressed his hair.
*****
The fact that they were both reclined on his couch when they awoke the next morning and in his opinion fit damn well together on it wasn't commented on. He kept that opinion to himself. She had been so supportive, not like anything he had experienced with a partner or anyone else that he could remember, and he wasn't going to make light of it. He couldn't make light of it, or her ever again.
Happy Muldermas '09!
Mulder, Scully, the Lone Gunman and Skinner all belong to Chris Carter,10-13 and Fox. No infringement intended.