TITLE:The White Room II: Memories AUTHOR: Annette Gisby EMAIL: annette.gisby@which.net FEEDBACK: Yes SUMMARY: A missing person's case brings up bad memories for Scully. This is a sequel to "The White Room", but should still make sense if you haven't read that one. RATING: NC-17 KEYWORDS: MSR, Rape, Angst. Angst, angst and more angst. Did I mention there was angst? AUTHOR'S NOTES AT END THE WHITE ROOM II: MEMORIES Special Agent Dana Scully had a secret. A secret that not even her family or friends knew about. A secret that not even Mulder knew, and he knew more about her than anyone else ever did. Her secret? On her days off she liked to watch old sc-fi b movies. She found it amusing to pick holes in the unscientific theories the writers came up with. She could never admit this to Mulder, he would tease her relentlessly if he ever found out. That's why when the doorbell rang that Saturday afternoon, she hastily switched of the television, feeling a perverse sense of guilt, as if Mulder had caught her watching one of *his* videos. She knew it was Mulder even before she looked through the spyhole on the door. Her mother knew how much she enjoyed having Saturdays to herself and wouldn't dare disturb her. Mulder had no such qualms about disturbing her. It was as though he couldn't quite beleieve that people would choose to spend time alone. Scully opened the door to let him in. He had a sheepish grin and an even bigger bunch of flowers in his hand. Mulder thrust them towards her as though they were an offering at a sacrificial altar. "These are for you." "Obviously. What's the occasion?" "Just to say I hope you're feeling better." "It was just a headache, Mulder. I'm fine." She had had a headache that morning, which was why she had turned down Mulder's lunch invitation, but it felt better now. Mulder looked worried, as if he didn't believe that she was okay. Scully knew what he was afraid of. He was afraid that one day he was going to come to her apartment and find her dead. She was afraid of it too, but the cancer was in remission, so she was going to try to forget about it. Remission wasn't a cure, but it was the only thing she had to cling to at the moment. As Scully took the flowers from his hand, she noticed the two airline tickets nestled among the roses. Her heart sank. It was a case. She should have known better than to think that Mulder would buy her flowers for any other reason besides the fact that he wanted something from her. "What is it?" "Missing persons case. Just outside London, England. A seventeen year old girl disappeared. Sarah Beaumont." "Beaumont? That name sounds familiar." "Her father is Charles Beaumont, the US Ambassador to England." "Kidnap? Has there been a ransom demand?" "Nothing. She disappeared a week ago and nothing has been heard of her since. Skinner wants us to handle this one, he thinks it may be an X-File. He wants to avoid an international incident at all costs." "Why is it an X-File?" "The boy Sarah was with when she disappeared. Ken Mullen, he claims to have seen a bright white light and then Sarah just vanished from the car." "And what does Skinner think of all this?" "He couldn't say no. The Ambassador asked for us personally." "And how would the Ambassador know about us?" Mulder paused before he replied and Scully knew she wasn't going to like the answer. She was right. "Phobe told him. She's the senior officer on the case." Scully's stomach lurched uncomfortably, as though she'd fallent twenty floors in a broken lift. She didn't like the way it made her feel. It made her feel weak, jealous, as though she had some sort of claim on Mulder that she had no right to feel. An interrupted kiss in Mulder's hallway hardly counted, did it? She felt as though she was on a runaway rollercoaster, and she hated rollercoasters. Who needed white knuckle rides when she had Mulder to contend with? *** The plane that night was crowded. Scully sat in the window seat, Mulder hunched up next to her. He seemed all legs and elbows in the small confines of the plane. She always felt sorry for him on flights. Whoever had designed plane seats hadn't given much thought to the Mulders of the world. He would be sore when he got off. Scully had plenty of room and wished there was some way she could let Mulder share her excess space. As it was, Mulder contented himself with a few moans and fidgets before finally falling asleep. Scully couldn't sleep on an a plane, or any public place for that matter. To fall asleep in public was too rsiky. It would mean she would let her guard down, and she wanted to feel in control. To be asleep was the time when you were most vulnerable. Phoebe was waiting for them at the exit to the terminal at London's Heathrow airport. She looked surprised to see Scully and greeted Mulder with a full kiss on the mouth. Scully swallowed the bile that rose up in her throat. Mulder pulled away, red-faced. Scully didn't know whether it was from embarassment or passion. She forced herself to look away from them. "Agent Scully. I didn't know you would be joining us." Before she had a chance to reply, Mulder came to her defence. She didn't know whether to be relieved or annoyed. "Of course she'd be with me. She's my partner." "I've only booked one room at the hotel," said Phoebe. "That's okay," said Mulder. "We can book another one. Unless you'd like to share, Scully?" he gave her a lecherous grin. "In your dreams, Mulder!" she laughed at him. "Yes, every night!" He held the car door open with a smile, and Scully couldn't help but wonder if it was true. Did he really dream about her? She often dreamt of him, and felt her face flush with the knowledge of what those dreams were about. "It looks like you have a guilty conscience, Agent Scully," said Phoebe, with a smirk. Scully didn't even dignify that with a reply. She hoped they'd get to the hotel soon. She didn't know how much longer she could be civil to Phoebe, and her headache was back with a vengence. The car pulled up in front of a giant edifice, covered in glass and chrome. Their hotel. It wasn't quite what Scully had expected. She had expected something made of honey coloured stone with leaded windows and pannelled halls. *You've been watching way too many old movies* she chided herself. She got out of the car, steadying herself on the doorframe as a wave of nausea swept over her. "Scully? Are you okay?" Mulder's hand was on her shoulder, as though he was trying to prevent her from running away. She did want to run. Away from him. She didn't want him to see her like this. "I'm fine Mulder. It's just a headache. Propbably the pressure from the plane. I just need a good night's rest and I'll be okay in the morning." She looked at him, at he warring emotions crossing his face. He was worried about her, but he was also curious. He had that look in his eyes. The thrill of the chase, the cry of the truth. He wouldn't settle until he'd seen Ken Mullen to question him about the girl. "You go on, Mulder. You can brief me on what he says in the morning." "Are you sure?" "Yes. Now go, before I change my mind." Scully smiled at him as he took her luggage out of the car. He helped her get checked in, insisting that her room was next to his. "But that room is already booked, sir," protested the clerk. "Then unbook it. Put them somewhere else. Have they checked in yet?" "No, but they're due any minute. Wait, we do have a suite free, two bedrooms. Would that be suitable?" "And how more expensive would that be?" asked Mulder. Scully could almost guess what he was thinking. The bureau would swing for two hotel rooms, but she couldn't imagine them paying for a suite, no matter what the circumstances. "That would be the same price as two single rooms, sir, as there does seem to have been a mixup with the booking, through no fault of yours." "Scully?" "Sure, Mulder, that's fine." Scully didn't care where she was sleeping, just as long as she could. She needed to lie down before she fell down. Mulder lifted up her luggage and saw her settled in the suite before he left. Scully was glad to be rid of him for a while. He was fussing as though he was a mother hen and she a wayward chick. The suite was spacious, with a large sitting room dominated by a large oak table and an even larger fireplace. There were chopped logs and coal in a brass scuttle by the side of the hearth. A cherry- wood cabinet held a large tv along with a video and a selection of tapes. Scully glanced at them, none seemed to be of Mulder's usual brand of entertainment and she held back a smile. She wandered around the rest of the suite. Both bedrooms were large, each with a double bed and decorated in the same style, a combination of blue and yellow walls, with bedspreads to match. The bathroom had an enormous whirlpool bath and was fully tiled in grey marble. //Grey. His hands were grey.// Scully shook her head, to try and clear it. Where had that thought come from? She decided she would have a long soak and have an early night. Mulder could talk to her in the morning, she didn't think she'd be able to stay awake long enough to wait up for him. Half a bottle of the hotel's bubble bath was upended into the bath before she realised what she was doing. Her mind had been on other things, or more specifically, another person. Mulder. He'd been in her thoughts more and more recently, and more lately in her dreams. Dreams that would put some of his videos to shame. She flushed as she remembered some of them, or was it just the steam from the bath? What would Mulder say if he knew that she dreamed about him? Did he also dream of her? The drams disturbed her, not their content, it was understandable that she would have sexual dreams, the mind had a way of making up for the body's frustations. No, what disturbed her was the way in which she was beginning to see Mulder. She wasn't seeing him as just a partner and friend any more. She was seeing him as a sexual being. In other words, she was finally seeing Mulder as a man. ************ She woke up coughing on her own blood. Two tell-tale spots of red stainig the pillow crimson. She hurried to the bathroom to wash her face, and wash away the evidence. Mulder couldn't know. She couldn't go throught that again, Mulder worried about every little thing that happened to her. She was doing enough worrying for both of them. Just as she emerged from her shower, wrapped in nothing but a towel, Mulder barged in. *Next time when you're sharing a bathroom, remember to lock it.* Mulder's eyes seemed drawn to the swell of her breasts, which the towel barely concealed. "Don't you ever knock, Mulder?" "Sorry. I brought breakfast," he held up two brown paper bags with the name of a bakery printed on them. "Well, I'd rather not have breakfast in the bathroom if it's all the same to you," said Scully. Mulder moved out of the doorframe so that Scully could finally get to her room and get dressed. "What do you want? Doughnut or Danish?" asked Mulder through the door. "Danish," replied Scully. "I thought you'd say that." Mulder thrust one of the bags through the crack in her door. Scully opened the bag and the scent of cinammon and apple wafted out. "Thanks." "I'll let you get dressed then," said Mulder and she heard the door to the bathroom opening. Scully smiled to herself. She wondered what Mulder would have said if she'd invited him to watch her dress? ****************** Dressed in a demure navy blue skirt and white blouse, she felt ready to face Mulder and anything he had to say about Ken Mullen. "So, any leads? What did he say?" "The usual scenario," said Mulder. "He and Sarah had been to the cinema, he was driving her home when the car stalled -" Scully snorted. "What?" "Come on, Mulder. It's obvious what happened. The car conveniently stalled, Ken was alone with the girl. He wanted sex, maybe she didn't. He either forced her or they both went along with it, but now she's too embarrassed to go home. If he did force her, he probably has something to do with her disappearance. Maybe she's run away." "But what about the white light Ken saw?" "He pretends that there is something supernatural going on so theat no-one will look at the most probable explanation, which is that he was somehow involved." Mulder continued as though he hadn't heard her. "Well, anyway, the car stalled. Ken went to go get help, he had a mobile phone but it was out of range, so he went to find a phone and - " "He left her there? Alone?" "Yes. He thought one of them should stay with the car. It was his brother's, and he didn't want it to get stolen. He phoned his parents, who were going to collect them. As Ken returned to the car, there was a flash of bright light, he fell to the ground unconscious. When he came to, Sarah was gone. There was no sign that she'd even been there, her purse and coat were gone from the car as well." "There's a simple explanation for that. He was getting rid of the evidence." "I think she was abducted," pouted Mulder. "Was there any other evidence to suggest that, besides the white light?" //A light so bright it hurt her eyes.// "Yes. Ken has large burns on his face, or were you going to tell me it was moonburn? I think you should go and see him, and then tell me he had anyhting to do with her disappearance." The telephone rang, interrupting her thoughts. Why had she thought that about the white light? It was as if - no, it couldn't be that could it? It was as if she was experiencing what Sarah was going through. And if that was the case, then she knew that Ken Mullen had nothing to do with it. "That was reception. Our ride's here," said Mulder. Scully grabbed her jacket and followed Mulder out to the car. She was hoping that Ken would be able to shed some light on Sarah's disappearance, hopefully an explanation that didn't involve anything concerning aliens or abductions. **************** Phoebe was busy talking to the Ambassador, leaving Mulder and Scully to interview Ken. Scully was glad. She didn't want to be in the same room with Phoebe and Mulder together. The atmosphere was tense enough as it was. Ken was sullen, moody, tense and rude. Mulder put it down to the after effects of the alien craft, Scully put it down to the fact that he was a normal teenager, remembering her own youth. She didn't think Mulder had ever been a normal teenager. "So, Ken, what really happened?" "I told you! She just disappeared!" "Did you rape her?" asked Scully. "Of course not! I wouldn't do that!" "Did you have sex with her that night?" "No. Not that night," said Ken quietly. "So you did have sex with her previously?" Ken nodded, with tears in his eyes. Scully wasn't convinced about the alien abduction scenario, but he did have some unusual burns on his face, burns which had no explanation. His face was red raw, with a mass of oozing blisters. "You do know that Sarah is only fifteen?" questioned Scully. "So?" snapped Ken. "So she is under-age. You could be arrested for statutory rape." "Scully, can I have a word with you outside?" said Mulder. She turned to look at him, and then back to ken. What was so important that he had to talk to her outside? Couldn't he say it in front of Ken? She stalked angrily into the hall outside the interrogation room. "What, Mulder?" "What is wrong with you, Scully? Why are you so interested in whether or not they had sex? It's not relevant to the case." "Well I think it is. Aren't you concerned that he may have raped that girl, or don't you care? Even if they had consensual sex, she's under-age." Mulder's cellphone trilled. "Mulder. Thanks, we're on our way." Scully raised a questioning eyebrow. "They've found her." ******************** Two ramblers had found Sarah's unconscious body in the woods in Richmond park. Her unconscious, naked body. She was at the hospital on life support, but the doctors hadn't held out much hope. There was very little brain activity, and no-one could determine how long she had been unconscious for. Mulder sat with her while Scully talked to Dr Harris. "Were there any signs of sexual trauma?" asked Scully. "Yes, there was bruising of the vaginal walls, consistent with forced sex. There were also scratches on her inner thighs, and we've determined that they were made by her own fingernails. We can't figure that out." //There was no soap, no washcloth, so she used her hands, scrubbing and scrubbing until her skin felt raw and blistered from the heat. And still she didn't feel clean. She had their filth all over her, could still feel their slimy bodies. She used her nails. Used her nails to scrape away thier filth until her skin was a mass of bleeding cuts and the water ran red...// "Agent Scully? Are you all right? You look rather pale. Let me get you a drink of water. " Dr Harris rushed off, leaving Scully to collapse weakly in a convenient chair. This wasn't happening to her. It wasn't. It was just a dream or some sort of empathic projection onto Sarah. It was not. It couldn't be. It couldn't be. But she knew it was. It wasn't a dream, or a nightmare. It was a memory. **************** Scully couldn't sleep. She was alone in their hotel suite. Mulder had gone out somewhere with Phoebe and another detective who had been working on the case. She'd pleaded a headache, not really wanting to go. Mulder probably knew that anyway. She didn't see the point in celebrating. Sarah was still in a coma, might never come out of it. Yet the case was closed. It had been missing persons, but now she was found. Case solved. She was afraid to sleep, afraid of what she might dream. Grey hands. She would dream of grey hands. Emily. She would dream of Emily, the traumatic conception and birth that Mulder knew nothing about. He thought he knew, but the truth was even more horrifying that what he thought. She wondered if she could ever tell him what really happened, what she seemed to be remembering what was happening. She didn't want to believe it. She was scared of believing it. Someone stumbled in around 2 a.m., knocking over something as he came into the suite. Scully went to her door and turned on the light. "Mulder? Is that you?" She walked into the hall and came face to face with a nightmare. ******** Mulder returned to the hotel around two thirty, a little drunk, but he soon sobered up when he saw Scully on the floor of the suite. She was lying on her side, her knees tucked tight against her chest, like a child. "Scully?" asked Mulder, but there was no reply. He bent down to check her pulse, it was very faint but it was there. He shook her to try and wake her from this stupor, but nothing seemed to have any effect. Not knowing what else to do, he called Dr Harris at the hospital. "Dr Harris, it's Agent Mulder here. Something has happened to Agent Scully. I found her lying on the floor, but she's totally unresponsive. I don't know what's wrong with her. Please, you've got to help her!" Mulder was almost sobbbing by the time he was finshed. This couldn't be happening. Scully would be okay. She had to be. "Agent Mulder. The important thing is that you remain calm. I'll be there as soon as I can," with that he hung up, leaving Mulder to stare at the prone from of his partner and wonder what could have happened to her. While waiting for the doctor, he tried to rouse Scully, but to no avail. She looked uncomfortable in the foetal position she had adopted, so he tried to move her legs out straight, she seemed to offer no resistance. Her eyes were open, two sapphires staring at him, but not seeing. It was as though he was looking at a very beautiful doll, pretty, but vacant behind the eyes. Dr Harris arrived about twenty minutes after he'd rung and Mulder had never been so glad to see someone in his life. "How is she?" asked Dr Harris. "Still the same. I moved her, is that okay?" "How was she when you moved her? Any resistance?" "No. Nothing. It was as though she didn't know I was dong it." Dr Harris knelt down beside Scully and waved his hand in front of her face. Mulder was watching intently, but there wasn't a flicker from Scully. It was as though she didn't know anyone else was there, she was locked in her own little world. The doctor reached into his bag and took out his stethoscope and placed it against his chest, shaking his head as he did so. Mulder felt his own heart falter. The doctor lifted Scully's arm, and then let go. It stayed in mid-air. "What is it, doctor? What's wrong with her? Surely this isn't normal." "No, it's not normal, Agent Mulder. It's more commonly seen in patients with schizophrenia or other mental illnesses. It's called catatonia, you may have heard of it?" "Yes, I've heard of it, but what is it? Can it be cured?" "The patient withdraws into themselves, unaware and uncaring about what is going on aorund them. Sometimes they will be able to follow instructions without realising they're doing it, so you can get them to eat. Agent Scully, however is beyond that. She will have to be hospitalised. Her stupor is so severe that she will not be able to do anything for herslelf." Dr Harris used his mobile phone to call for an ambulance. Mulder looked at the blank face of his partner and felt his insides split in a thousand different places. "What causes it?" asked Mulder. "No-one really knows, your partner hasn't got a history of mental illness. Sometimes it can be caused by drugs, is your partner on any medicatiion?" "Not that I know of. Are there any other causes?" "It could be hysterical. Maybe she received a shock of some kind. That form is more unusual. Do you know what the shock could have been?" "No, doctor. I wasn't here." And he knew that was another thing to add to the long list of things he could never forgive himself for. ******* She was floating in a warm dark place. She couldn't hear or see anything, but she could feel. She felt safe, as though she was wrapped in a cocoon. THEY wanted her to leave the dark place, but she didn't want to. She wanted to stay here, where it was safe. Out there, THEY would get her. No-one could get her in the dark place. She was the only one who knew where it was. ******* Mulder went with Dr Harris and Scully in the ambulance. He didn't want to let her out of his sight. What could have caused Scully to become like this? What knowledge was so awful that she didn't want to face it? Could anything really be that bad? He looked from Scully to the doctor. "Can it be treated?" "We'll wait twenty four hours, to see if she comes out of it on her own. It has happened before. If not, we'll start her on a course of sedatives. If they don't work, our only other option is to use ECT." "Electric shock therapy?" asked Mulder, horrified. He didn't want Scully to go through that, but what other option did he have? He wanted Scully back, and if that was the only way left to him, he would take it. He stayed with Scully all that night. He watched the nurses hook her up to tubes to feed her and tubes to take away her waste. They put her on a heart monitor, the constant beeping reassuring in a way. She didn't need a ventilator, she was breathing on her own. But that was the only thing. Everything else had to be done for her. The nurses came and turned her every few hours so that she wouldn't get bedsores. Mulder wanted to do something to help, but he didn't know what. He felt useless. She didn't come out of it on her own, and the sedatives had no effect. Dr Harris had no choice but to try the electric shock therapy after two days. "I don't want to wait any longer. You're welcome to stay with her while she has the treatment." Mulder shook his head. He had considered it, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to cope with seeing Scully in such pain. He would want to stop the doctors, even though what they were doing was for Scully's own good. The first treatment was a failure, as was the second. Mulder prayed to a God he didn't believe in, and any other one who would listen, that Scully would be okay. It just felt so - so *wrong*. Scully was the strong one, the one he helped him up when he was down. She had to get better. She had to. He cried when Dr Harris told him. The third treatment had been a success. Of a sort. "The shocks affect the part of the brain that deals with memory. Dana doesn't remember anything about why she was in hospital. The shock which induced her catatonia is no longer something she remembers, but maybe that's for the best. The brain tries to protect us from knowing things that are too painful to know. She's asking for you." Mulder almost ran down the corridor to Scully's room. He took a deep breath before going in. Scully was sitting propped up on pillows, her face pale and drawn. She smiled weakly at him. "Mulder. I want to go home." "As soon as the doctor says it's okay." "How - how long was I out?" she asked quietly. "A few days." "A few days," she repeated. Mulder could almost guess what she was thinking. Not months, not like her abduction. Dr Harris entered the room smiling brightly and looking at her chart. "And how's my patient today?" "Tired. And sore. My muscles ache." "Well, that's to be expected with the treatment. You still don't remember anything about why you're here?" "No, but I want to go home." "That won't be possible Dana. I don't think you're well enough to travel yet." "But I feel fine! So I've lost a bit of short term memory. Isn't that usual when you've had head trauma?" "But, Dana, you didn't bang your head." "Then why was I in a coma?" "You weren't. You were in a deep catatonic state when Agent Mulder found you." "I don't understand. What could have happened to cause that?" "That's what we'd all like to know." **************** Scully slept fitfully for the next two nights, her dreams plagued by nightmares which went unremembered as soon as she woke. It disturbed her more than she cared to admit. Normally she could remember her dreams. Mulder had called Skinner to explain their delay, when the case was over. At her request he only said that Scully was ill and needed to spend some time resting. She was thankful that Mulder understood her so well. Scully didn't want any news of her *breakdown* to go beyond the two of them. Scully called her mom, knowing she would be worried at not having heard form her in over a week. "Dana, honey, are you all right?" "I'm okay Mom. I just had an infection so I'll be staying in hospital for a few days. I'll be home soon. Don't worry." "Are you sure that's all it is? You know you can tell me." "I'm fine, Mom. Really." "Okay. I'l see you when you get back." "Bye." Scully hung up the phone before her mother could notice the crack in her voice. She wasn't fine. In fact she was far from fine and she hated lying to her mother. But Maggie would only worry, when there was nothing anyone could do. Not until Scully got her memory back. The hospital food was awful and Scully could only manage a few bites of it before pushing it away. The nurses decided to rat on her to Mulder. "Come on, Scully. You've got to eat something." "No I don't. I'm not hungry." "If I eat this rubbish, will they let me go home?" "It'll help, I suppose." "Okay, Mulder. Pass the plate," Scully smiled, the first smile in days. The muscles in her jaw ached from lack of use. She would eat anyhting if it would get her out of here. ************* Scully wanted to go back to work straight away, but Mulder and Skinner insisted she took a few weeks off to recover. She felt recovered, except for the lack of memory. She didn't want to spend time on her own at the apartment. Time on her own meant time to think and that was one thing she didn't want to do. On the third week of her enforced rest she was going stir-crazy. Mulder hadn't been round or called her for days. She't tried to call him but couldn't reach him either at home or on his cell phone. She decided to go to his aprtment. Maybe he would even go over some case files with her. Anything to overcome this sense of uselessness. She wasn't used to having so much time to herself. Mulder opened his door on the second ring. He'd been crying, his face still wet form the tears he was trying to hide from her. "Scully. You should have called." "I kept getting your machine. What is it, Mulder? What's wrong?" Scully pushed past him into the hall and stopped dead at the threshold to the living room. On the coffee table there was a padded envelope, the return address visible. It was the hotel they'd stayed at in London. Beside the envelope was a video tape. Scully felt the blood drain from her face as the memeory struggled to surface. Her walking out from the bedroom of the suite, thinking it was Mulder. Hearing the television on and then screams. Her screams. Everything that had been done to her during her abduction had been caught on film. Her agony. Her humiliation. And now Mulder had seen it too. She felt sick. "Scully?" asked Mulder hoarsely. "What did they do to you?" "You've seen the tape, Mulder, you know what they did." "No, the picture was wiped. All I could hear was you screaming." Scully rushed to the bathroom to throw up. Once she started she couldn't stop. She wanted to purge every feeling, every memory from her body. She crouched over the toilet bowl until there was nothing left to bring up except sour saliva. Mulder hovered by the door, one hand on the frame. "Scully? What is it? What did they do?" "You want to know what they did to me? You really want to know?" "Yes." "They raped me Mulder." "By stealing your eggs? A medical rape? Is that what you mean?" "No! I don't mean that! I mean they *physically* raped me. Five of them pinned me down while they took it in turns to assault me!" She was sobbing now, leaning her head against the coolness of the porcelain bowl. "Oh, Scully. I'm so sorry. I had no idea." He made no move to touch her and comfort her. She was grateful for that. She didn't think she could bear to be touched right now. "Do you know waht else they did? While they were raping me -" She saw him wince at the word but she carried on anyway. "They gave me a fantasy of you and me together. They took what I felt for you and turned it into something perverse and horrible. They made it seem as though it was *you* who raped me." She stood up on shaky legas and walked towards him. How could he just stand there so calmly when she was in such turmoil? "They took her from me! They stole my baby!" She began to pummel his chest. She wanted to hurt him, inflict some physical pain so that she could get rid of the emotionial hurt she was feling. "Scully! Stop!" His voice registered, but the words didn't. There was a red fog in her brain. She couldn't hurt THEM but she could hurt Mulder. But Mulder was stronger that her. She'd forgotten that. He pushed her arms away and pinned her against the bathroom wall. She tried to squirm away but he wouldn't let her go. His mouth came down on hers in a crushing kiss. She clawed at his face as she broke away. "I hate you! I hate you!" Mulder dropped his arms to enable her to go. She didn't move. "I'm sorry, Scully. I didn't mean that." "Yes you did! You're just like THEM!" "I stopped, didn't I?" "And I'm supposed to be grateful?" she spat the words at him. She was angry. Angry at THEM. Angry at Mulder. But most of all she was angry at herself. How could her body betray her like that? As soon as Mulder's lips had found hers, she felt a wave of desire wash over her so strongly it was all she could do to stay upright. She hadn't felt like that in a long time. Any time she'd felt the slightest feelings of arousal begin, she'd put a lid on them. It had worked. Until now. Scully's arms seemed to find Mulder's neck of their own accord. She kissed him fiercely, clinging to him like a shipwreck survivor. Mulder pushed her away, but she didn't want to let him go. "Scully. We can't do this." She looked up at him. "Don't you want me?" She'd never anticipated that. That he'd reject her, that he'd turn her down. All her self-respect disappeared. She'd as good as offered herself on a plate and he wasn't interested. "Fine. I'll go." He grabbed her wrist as she left the bathroom. "Scully, wait. We have to talk." "There's nothing left to talk about, Mulder. I thought you made that perfectly clear. You're not interested. I'm not going to stay where I'm not wanted." "You are wanted, Scully. Haven't you realised that by now? But I don't want our first time to be like this." "Like what?" "You're upset and angry and I know that if you give into your feelings now, you're going to regret it in the morning." "Is that the psychologist speaking?" "No. Just a friend. A special friend, I hope?" Scully looked into his eyes and saw the love shining out. She started sniffling again. "Mulder, please don't turn me down. I need this. I need to feel that you still find me attractive, not ugly because of what happened." "You could never be ugly, Scully, please don't think that." "Mulder, I have thought about this. A lot. I would never regret making love with you. I know it's the right thing for us. I would never see it as a mistake. I - I love you, Mulder, I want to show you that I do." Mulder tightened his arms around her and held her like that for what seemed an eternity. He kissed the top of her head, she felt a small breath on the top of her hair and shivered. "Are you sure about this, Scully? Really, really sure?" "I've never been more sure about anything in my life. It's what I want, Mulder and I think you want it too." "Okay, Scully. But I want you to wait in the living room for a while. My bedroom is in a mess." "I don't mind," she smiled at him. "Well, I do. I won't be long." With a brief kiss on the lips, he was gone. Scully couldn't imagine Mulder being very worried about how tidy his room was, but it was sweet of him. She was going to make love with Mulder. The thought made her a little faint and she sank onto the couch. Her and Mulder. Together. She was nervous, but it wasn't a nervousness borne out of fear. It was normal first night nerves. Would he think she was too fat? What if she was hopeless as a lover? Would he fall asleep? Random thoughts went round and round her head until he returned. "All ready," he grinned at her and she felt the relief. She thought he might have changed his mind. As soon as she stood up from the couch, Mulder was there and scooped her up in his arms. She giggled against his chest. "Mulder, what are you doing?" "I've always wanted to sweeep you off your feet." At the threshold of his bedroom, Scully knew that he'd done more than tidying up. There were fresh sheets on the bed, crisp white cotton. Candles were everywhere, casting the room in a warm yellow glow. He was trying to make it romantic. For her. She wouldn't cry. Not again. There were enough tears for one night. Mulder laid her gently on the bed as though she was as fragile as a porcelain doll and began to stroke her cheek with the palm of his hand. "Scully, we can take this as slow as you want. If I do anything - anything you don't like, tell me and I'll stop, okay?" She nodded, unable to speak round the tennis ball that had sudddenly lodged in her throat. Mulder lay down on the bed next to her and began to kiss her, slowly, ever so slowly. His hand caressed her hair, her neck, her back. She arched towards him, moaning low in her throat. Mulder was an expert at kissing. He teased her with soft full lips, taking nibbles of her lower lip, before soothing the bites with his tongue. Scully could feel the heat building between her thighs and pulled him further towards her, one leg thrown over his. He broke of the kiss, looking intently at her. "I think we're a bit overdressed for this," he said quietly. Scully couldn't agree more, and began to unbutton her blouse. His hand on hers stopped her. "No. Let me do it." She lay back agaisnt the pillows and let him do what he would. His hands were unexpectedly gentle as he undid each button, leaning over to kiss each piece of exposed flesh as he did. Scully was trembling, feeling sweetly tortured. How could she bear it? Finally the blouse was off and he began on the skirt. He reached around behind for the zipper and pulled it down. The noise of the zipper was loud in the silence of the room. Scully lifted her hips to enable Mulder to slide it off her now sweat slicked body. She lay there in just a white silk bra, panties and hold-up stockings. Mulder was just staring at her, as though he had never seen a half naked woman before, or one more beautiful. She could see it in his eyes. He thought she was beautiful. He carefully unrolled the stocking which had adorned her left leg, kissing her leg as he went. Scully felt dizzy with passion. She felt as though she was going to faint. Her heart was beating way to fast and her breath came in little gasps and squeaks. When he had finished with her stockings, he turned his attention to her bra. As soon as his hands touched her, she screamed and almost arched completely off the bed. "OH GOD!" Mulder paused, one hand on her breast and looked at her, as if asking permission to continue. "DON'T You dare stop now!" she shrieked at him. Mulder soon had the restricting garment rmeoved and began to caress her bare breasts. Her nipples hardened the instand he touched them and sent a wave of plesure shooting towards her groin. She was wet, and could feel his erection pressing into her stomach. "I'm ready," she whispered against his ear and could have sworn that he became even harder as he thrust towards her. **************** Mulder couldn't get undressed fast enough. God, did she know what that throaty whisper did to him? He wanted her. He needed her. He loved her. How could this woman, this special,wonderful woman love him back? He didn't deserve her, but he would change that. He would make himself worthy of her love. He stood before her, naked, his erection throbbing painfully. But he said he would take it slow and he would. This night was for her. His own plesaure could wait. He knelt down by the foot of the bed, grabbed her legs and gently tugged her towards him. He could smell her arousal, see how wet her panties had become. He'd done that. He'd made Dana Scully wet with desire. He felt like a god. Once he'd taken off her panties, he bent down and began to kiss her inner thighs. Scully was squirming and wriggling beneath his touch. He had to hold her legs to steady her. As soon as his mouth touched her wet core, she arched against his mouth and he could taste her, sweet and savoury at the same time. "Mulder - what - what are you doing to me?" she asked breathlessly. He glanced up, her eyes were shining and she was clutching the bed sheets for dear life. She was close, he could feel it in the way her muscles were contracting around him and the way her hands had suddenlly gripped his head, as if afraid he would stop before completing what he'd started. He wouldn't be that cruel. She took her hands away. "Mulder stop, please!" He immediately removed his mouth and glanced up at her. Had he gone too fast? What was wrong? He thought she'd been on the verge of orgasm, perhaps he was wrong. "Scully? What is ist? What's wrong?" "It's just, it's just I want you inside me, Mulder. I want to come with you inside me." He didn't need a second invitation as he fell onto the bed and on top of Scully. She was more than ready for him and he slipped in easily. He had never felt like this before, feeling as if he was joined spiritually with her as well as physically. He thrust into her like a dying man striving for salvation. And she was salvation. His Scully. His salvation. Scully. Salvation. Scully. Salvation. Scully. Scully. Scully. "Scully!" He screamed her name, feeling his climax approaching. He wouldn't be able to hold out much longer, yet Scully was gripping him, urging him to go faster. "God! Scully! I can't - I can't hold on!" And then he felt her inner muscles contract around him and he was lost, filling her with his essence and then lay on top of her, spent. "Scully. That was - that was indescribable!" He looked down at her, feeling the concern wash over him. How to put this tactfully? "Are you okay, Scully?" "I'm fine, Mulder. Better than fine. And yes, I did come, thank you for asking!" she laughed and he felt himself laughing with her. It was a good sound and he hoped he would get to hear it more often in the future. He lay on his back, his arm held out in invitation. Scully snuggled up to him, laying her head on his chest. His chest was so full of love for her, he thought it would burst. "I love you, Scully. I love you," he whispered. "I know, Mulder. I know," she said sleepily. ************** He woke up in the night, feeling cold. The bed was empty of Scully. For one horrible moment he thought it was a dream, but then he saw a sliver of light from underneath the bathroom door. He lay awake waiting for her to return, but after half an hour, he knew there was something wrong. He padded across the floor and knocked on the bathroom door. "Scully?" No answer. He pushed the door open and went in. Scully was sitting on the edge of the bath, wearing one of his old t-shirts. It almost reached her knees. She was holding a bottle of pills in her hand. His heart lurched. No, she couldn't have. Where did she get them from? Then he remembered. He'd been taking sleeping pills on and off occasionally, but he didn't think he had any left. Obviously he had been wrong. "Scully?" he asked again. "It's okay, Mulder. I haven't taken any." "But you were thinking about it, weren't you?" "Yes," she admitted, hanging her head. He rushed over to her, crushing her against his chest in a bear hug. "It's okay, Scully. It's okay. There have been times when I've thought about it myself. I think everyone thinks about it occasionally. The important thing is that you didn't go through with it. That takes a lot of courage. To face what you fear in this life." "I don't know if I can, Mulder. I don't want to face it anymore. Mulder - I haven't told you everything." He held her tighter, wondering what could be worse than knowing that the woman he loved was raped and abducted because she knew him. He led her into the kitchen and put on some coffee, more for something to do than because he wanted any. Scully sat at the table, fiddling with her cross. The suspense was killing him. "Scully?" he prompted. "It's about Emily, Mulder." Oh, God! Was she seeing visions of her dead daughter again? "Emily wasn't born to Anna Fugazzi, Mulder. Her birth records were a complete lie. I've only started to remember things, but I remember that." "What do you remember, Scully?" he asked, although he wasn't entirely sure that he would like the answer. "I remember the white room. Where they raped me, where they impregnated me. I remember them ripping Emily from my womb, without any pain relief. I was screaming with the pain, but they didn't care. I remember *she* was there. *She* took the baby away, my baby, Mulder. Emily was born to me. And now I'll never have another." Mulder sat in stunned silence. He had no idea, the thought never even occurred to him that Scully was actaully Emily's birth mother. But how could that be possible? If Emily had been taken from her in some sort of barbaric ceasearean, where were the scars? And Scully was only gone for three months, how could she give birth to a baby? "I don't understand, Scully. You don't have any scars." He felt her icy glare down to the depths of his soul. What a stupid thing to say. Of course she had scars, they just weren't visible. "I don't understand it either, Mulder. Once they'd given Emily to *her*, they healed me somehow. After all that pain, why did they heal me? I don't know. I don't think we'll ever know. But it happened, Mulder, as much as I wish it hadn't, it was real. I was just in denial for so long, I didn't want to believe it." "Scully, you were only gone three months." "I know, Mulder. Maybe time ran differently there. But when Emily was born, she was the size of a full-term infant, that's all I know." "Who took her, Scully? Who was the woman? Was she human?" "If you could call her that, after what she did to me. And to you. It was Diana Fowley." DIANA? Mulder tried to get his head round the thought, but he couldn't. Diana? Someone who at one time he thought he loved? Involved in Scully's abduction? Had she been working for the consortium all along? Even when she'd been working with him on the X-Files? No wonder Scully found it difficult to tell him. Did she still think that Mulder felt loyal towards Diana? Not after what Scully just told him. Scully had no reason to lie. And he knew how hard it was for Scully to admit that she had in fact been abducted by aliens, raped by them, had a child by them. No wonder that bottle of pills had seemd so inviting a prospect. "There's no proof of any of this, Mulder. Just my memories. No-one will believe it." "I believe it, Scully. You believe it. That's all that matters." "There was one good thing about my abduction, Mulder." "What was that?" He couldn't imagine anything good happening to her there. "While I was there, for some reason, I thought that we were married. That kept me going when things got really bad. I had a husband who would find me." Mulder was crying now, great shameless tears dropped onto the table. He didn't want to wipe them away. He could do this for her, he could cry for her. "Let's do it, Scully, let's get married. They've hurt us enough. I'll never let them hurt you again." "I know you won't. Mulder. I know." END AUTHOR'S NOTES: I'm not a psychiatrist, any mistakes I have made in diagnosing Scully as catatonic are my own. This was a sequel to "The White Room" which dealt with Scully's rape at the hands of aliens during her abduction. I have read accounts where abductee's have claimed this had happened to them and become pregnant as a result, no mention of atificial insemination at all. It was something that caught my interest, especially since the show hasn't really told us what happened during Scully's abduction. I know they are not very pretty stories, they don't intend to be. Rape is a very dark subject matter, and may upset some people. Although the stories deal with rape and its after effects, I do not condone rape and think it is a horrible thing to happen to anyone. (Believe me, I know). Feedback welcome at annette.gisby@which.net