Archive of Our Own ^beta

Scully leaned into Mulder's embrace, determined not to cry, but the feel of his strong arms enveloping her and his musky scent were enough to break the dam walls, and her tears came flooding through. He held her while she sobbed, running his fingers through her hair and murmuring softly to her. When the flood had subsided, his hold on her loosened only enough for him to look at her. Expecting to see disdain and disgust at her weakness in his eyes, she was shocked to see concern and fear.

From nowhere, he produced a handkerchief and dried her eyes while insisting she go to the hospital to be checked out. She insisted that she was fine. Pulling away from him completely, determined to prove she was a strong, stoic FBI agent, she began to walk to the waiting ambulance, he a respectful half-step behind her.

He hovered while the EMT checked her out, and the detective questioned her. One confirmed that she was indeed fine, and the other, after taking her statement and asking a few questions, confirmed that as soon as forensics were done with her, they could leave.

The waiting seemed interminable when she was ushered inside the ambulance for a female CSI Tech to process her.

The tech’s voice had been gentle, but distant, like underwater echoes. The motions; lifting her arms, peeling her blouse away, tugging at the elastic waistband of her slacks, had happened without her. She watched herself from outside her body, like a mannequin being dressed and undressed. No thoughts, just static.

When the tech touched her neck to remove her blouse, a flash of memory sliced through her mind, Pfaster’s hand clamped around the back of her neck, pushing her forward, the sharp stench of eucalyptus, with a hint of lavender assaulting her senses. That awful, detached look in his eyes, as if she weren’t even human.

She didn't know which made her feel more violated, being touched and hauled around by Pfaster or having a complete stranger, even though it was a woman, comb through her hair, scrape her fingernails, and help her undress down to her skivvies.

Her breath hitched in the back of her throat, but she forced it down, blinking rapidly.  Not here. Not now. She clenched her fists until her nails dug half-moons into her palms.

He gave an audible sigh when she finally emerged from the ambulance dressed in a thin pair of scrubs, every stitch of clothing having become evidence.  

She shivered when her bare feet touched the cold asphalt of the road.

She hadn’t even realized she was barefoot.

Ever the gentleman, Mulder wrapped her in his large suit jacket. He wanted very much to just pick her up and carry her to safety but was content when she allowed him to put an arm around her shoulders and guide her to his car.

The car ride to the motel was silent, each deep in thought. When they reached the motel, Mulder helped Scully out of the car and into his room. Scully stood in the middle of the room, her eyes skimming over the twin beds, the small table and chairs in the corner next to the mini-fridge but not really taking any of it in. Mulder came back in, suitcase in hand, and closed the door behind him. He placed the suitcase on top of the bed closest to the door and opened it. He pulled out his bathroom bag, a sweatshirt and sweatpants. He handed these to Scully and pointed at the door situated next to the other bed in the room. “Why don’t you go have a shower, get cleaned up, and I’ll order us some dinner.”

Scully merely nodded and disappeared into the bathroom, the door clicking quietly behind her. Mulder made his way to the reception area where he remembered seeing a restaurant guide. Finding the item on the reception counter, he perused it on his way back to the room. It was not just a restaurant guide but had a list of various places of interest, museums, parks, and government buildings with a map on the back where each listed item was clearly shown.

He found the number for the only 24-hour pizza joint and placed his order for delivery. Scully was still in the shower when the food arrived.

“Hey man,” Mulder spoke to him as he paid for the pizza. “Is there a bottle store open at this hour?”

“Yeah, there’s one just across the street on the corner,” he answered and jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

Mulder pulled out another note. “Would you mind running over and getting me a six-pack?”

“Yeah, sure, no problem, anything specific?”

“Just make sure it’s American.”

“Gotcha.”

Mulder waited for him in the doorway of the room, and he was back in less than 10 minutes. Mulder took the beer from him. “Keep the change.”

“Thanks, man, have a good night.”

Scully stepped out of the bathroom, freshly cleaned, but the exhaustion was still evident in the way she carried herself. She forced a smile at Mulder when he turned toward her upon hearing her open the bathroom door.

“Dinner’s here,” Mulder said, his tone light but his gaze betraying his concern for her. He lifted his hand with the pizza box. “I got half and half, Pepperoni for me, Hawaiian for you.”

Scully didn’t respond; she just sat down at the table and stared at the food, as he set the box down and opened it, but not really seeing it. The silence stretched between them, the air thick with unspoken things; trauma, fear, and a closeness that each craved but dared not acknowledge.

Mulder sat down across from her, opening a beer and setting it down in front of her. He pushed the box closer to her. “You need to eat something; you’ll feel better.”

Scully didn’t reach for the pizza; instead, she picked up the beer, her fingers lingering on the cold bottle. She took a large swig, the bitter taste grounding her in the moment. “Thanks.” She took another large gulp.

Her voice sounded distant. Mulder’s heart clenched; he could tell she was shutting down, trying to regain the control she always held so tightly.

Scully glanced at him over the rim of the bottle. “I’m fine, Mulder. Really.”

“Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t look fine.”

She emptied the bottle and started to fidget with the label, running her nail across the corner, lifting it, then smoothing it over. As her wrists moved, she caught sight of the red marks left by the ties and she was there again, reaching toward the gun, its cold metal a comfort in an ungodly situation. Then it was gone, and he was there, his weight crushing her, his breath hot and sour on her face… she blinked and forced her gaze back to the label. Back to the motel room. Back to Mulder.

“I’m not a broken vase that needs to be fixed, I…” she replied softly, her tone laced with something that hinted at a vulnerability she wasn’t quite ready to admit.

Mulder paused. He’d never seen her like this. He could feel her unspoken words, her hesitation hung in the air.

He set his beer down and stood up, walking to the small window and looking out into the darkness. “You know, Scully… I don’t know how to fix this, but I’ll be here. Whenever you need to talk, or… anything.” His voice softened as if he were speaking more to himself than her. “I’ll always be here for you.”

She remained quiet, her eyes trained on the bottle, her hands trembling slightly. After a long beat, she whispered, “I never should’ve let him get so close to me.”

Mulder’s chest tightened; he crossed the room and knelt in front of her, his hand resting gently on her knee. “Scully, none of this was your fault. You did everything you could. You managed to get away from him.” Even as he said the words, he knew they didn’t change the fact that she had been trapped. That she had been afraid, isolated, fighting for her life, that even though he had been out there looking for her, in her mind she had been alone.

Something in the warmth of his gaze slipped past her defences; an unspoken tenderness, the kind that didn’t demand anything, only offered understanding and before she could stop herself, the words came pouring out.

“I was so scared Mulder, I… I can’t shake it; his weight, the gun slipping from my fingers, the silence, I thought…” her voice broke “I thought I was going to die right there.” the flood of emotions she’d been holding in all evening finally broke free, her tears fell silently; she didn’t try to hold them back.

Mulder’s breath hitched. He reached for her, his hands moving gently to pull her into his embrace. She collapsed against him, her head resting on his shoulder as she cried in earnest, her body shaking from the release. He held her, the warmth of his arms a silent promise that she wasn’t alone.

“I’m here,” he murmured, his voice thick. “You’re not alone.”

They stayed like that for a long while, the only sounds were an occasional sniffle and the distant hum of the world outside. When her crying finally subsided, Mulder shifted, pulling back enough to look at her, his fingers brushing away the tears from her cheeks.

Scully met his gaze, her eyes red-rimmed but soft. There was a moment, an infinitesimal moment, where something unspoken passed between them. It was a bond, a depth of understanding and care that neither could fully articulate.

Scully, too vulnerable in that moment to guard herself, leaned in slightly, her eyes searching his.

Mulder’s heart stopped.

He wanted to kiss her, more than anything, but he knew this wasn’t the time. She was raw; exposed, and he couldn’t risk crossing that line when she was so fragile. She needed him, yes, but not in the way she thought she did.

He pulled back, gently placing his hands on her shoulders. “Scully, don’t… don’t do this now.”

Her eyes widened in hurt and confusion. She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off, his voice firm, yet soft.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, God knows I do,” he whispered, ‘but not like this. Not when you’re vulnerable. You need more than that from me right now. You need time to heal first. To process what’s happened. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here, every step of the way.”

Scully swallowed hard, her emotions swirling inside her. “I don’t want to be weak,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re not weak,” Mulder replied, his hand gently cupping her cheek. “Not even close. You’re the strongest person I know.”

She nodded, her eyes still glistening. She could feel the truth in his words, but there was an ache, something deep and unspoken, still gnawing at her.

Mulder let out a slow breath, then pulled her back into his arms. “We’ll take this one step at a time, okay? Together.”

She sniffled and nodded.

“Now, why don’t you get into bed, while I clear up here.”

Silently she crawled under the covers while he tidied up. When he was done, he killed the lights and got into his own bed. He’d hardly settled when he felt the blanket being lifted and the bed shift below her weight. Silently he turned to her and gathered her into his arms.

“Try and get some sleep,” he whispered.

Although neither of them spoke it aloud, in that moment, they both knew something had shifted. The road ahead would be complicated, and neither of them had all the answers, but one thing was clear; no matter what, they weren’t facing it alone.

FIN