Title: Dry
Author: RM >lebontrager@iname.com<
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to CC, 1013, and Fox. No fringe is
intended.
Rating: R for depressing and graphic things.

SPOILER:::Post-Biogenesis

~~~~
Dry
~~~~

"Like the poor lush who cannot satisfy,
we try to force our sex with counterfeits,
die drooling on the deliquescent tits,
mouthing the rotten orange we suck dry. . ."

--"Flowers of Evil: To the Reader", Charles Baudelaire

~~~~

She couldn't do this anymore, not anymore.

Standing there, seeing the metal of silver in the sea that crushed the
small hope she had in a cross of gold about her neck, Dana Scully just
couldn't do it.

Belief she had, and faith she had, though not in the same things or
right things maybe, but strength was ripped cruelly and mercilessly from
her.

She needed Mulder to do this, she needed him to go crazy over this
discovery, and she needed his own determination to pull her back from
her own brink.

Insane or not, she needed him.

This was sucking her dry, truth disastisfying and not understood, she
was trying to find meaning in something that only Mulder had the open
mind to enjoy anymore.

She left without thinking, and trying not to think.

~~~~

He looked hollow in that room, curled tight in the corner, face pressed
to the wall, his lips moving softly over the padding.

"Scully, Scully, Scully," he chanted, and it made her heart shatter and
her soul weep.

She had left him to this without even offering a ray of hope.

The grey monitors suddenly fuzzed once and then popped back on with the
picture.

Langly had circuited the cameras to do a continuous feed loop of the
last ten minutes.

She walked quickly and quietly down the hall, the room key tightly
clutched in her hand.

The door opened soundlessly, easing back into the hallway, letting
Scully see right into the padded room. 

Mulder was still curled in the corner, oblivious to her entrance,
whispering her name over and over like a lament.

She came inside slowly, certain he would not hurt her, but not all that
confident he would know who she was.

"Mulder?"

His head rolled back and his glazed eyes skittered across her face
without recognition.

She choked on a sob and pushed forward, coming to his side and taking
his trembling body into her arms. He stiffened when she touched him, 
and shivered uncontrollably.

"Scully, Scully, Scully."

She kissed his forehead softly and brushed back his dirty bangs.

"Mulder, it's me. . ."

He looked up at her again, confusion seering through his gaze.

"Scully?"

"It's me. . .it's me. I'm going to get you out of here."

"Why. . .why didn't you come?"

His voice was pitiful and she felt her tears slipping down her cheeks.

Why hadn't she come?

"They wouldn't let me in. . .but I found something, Mulder. I found
something."

It was an offering, an exchange. A bite of the truth instead of her
faithfulness, her loyalty.

He curled around himself, trying to move away from her.

"Scully. . .Scully doesn't cry. . ."

She laughed bitterly and grabbed his shoulders.

"Mulder, I have to get you out of here. They're messing up your head."

She hauled him to his feet and mostly carried him to the door, grinding
her teeth with the effort.

He groaned once and collapsed back to the floor.

She kneeled beside him, trying to breathe slowly and calmly.

"Mulder, you okay?"

"It hurts. . ."

She bit her lip and took his head into her lap, letting her fingertips
trail up and down his skin for a moment, ever aware of how little time
she had to get him out of there.

"Mulder, I know it does. . .but we have to get you out of here."

He nodded, then pulled himself into a sitting position, his breath
ragged and erratic.

She opened the door and found Byers in the hallway, waiting for them.
Between the two of them, they managed to bundle Mulder onto a gurney
and out of the hospital in a fake ambulance.

~~~~

The motel was about a hundred miles from DC and offered two single beds
and a working shower, so she was pleased.

She thanked the Lone Gunmen and locked the door behind them, moving to
Mulder's side.

He was curled up on the bed nearest the bathroom, shivering and sweating
at the same time. She figured they had addicted him to something,
morphine or an opiate, and he was having trouble coming off it so
abruptly.

"Mulder."

His eyes opened to see her and his lips formed a weak smile.

"Thanks, partner."

"Any day. . ."

Coming to sit beside him, she walked the five or so feet from the door,
feeling ashamed and disgusted at herself.

"I should have gotten you sooner. . ."

He took her hand in his, his breathing loud and labored.

"Yes. . .but I forgive you."

She glanced down to him, noting the slight grin in his mouth and the
almost-sparkle dancing in his eyes.

Just as she was about to smile back, his eyes slammed shut in pain, and
he twitched on the bed, grunting with the power of it. His heart sped up
and began thrashing inside his chest; his grip on her hand turned
deadly.

"Mulder. . .Mulder. . .concentrate on my voice. . .you're going to be
okay. . ."

He whimpered and she felt her throat tighten, her heart break.

She felt rotten inside, like everything good in her, everything sweet,
had been sucked out by life, by disbelief and her own stubborness.

"Mulder, Mulder. . ."

She leaned forward and caressed his face, whispering his name over and
over, deep guilt welling through her. When this had happened before, she
hadn't been there. . .he'd had no one to hold him.

Finally, he collapsed into the bed, his stiff muscles relaxing and his
face looking pale. She continued to touch him, remembering his own touch
during her cancer, comforting and reaffirming.

His breath rattled in his chest and he twitched ocassionally with muscle
spasms, but she thought this bout of pain was over.

He was unconscious again.

The bed was small, but she slipped in beside him, her hands cradling his
face, her forehead pressed to his chin, breathing in and out as if it
could keep him breathing too.

She couldn't lose him now.

~~~~

When she woke, he was staring at her, his eyes intense and desperate.

She made an attempt to get up but he shook his head, closing his hands
tight about her wrists.

"Don't move."

With her wary agreement, Mulder shut his eyes again, feeling drained.

"Why can't I move?" she asked a few minutes later.

He took in a deep controlled breath and then blinked at her.

"It shakes the bed and that rattles my brain around."

"It hurts?"

He was about to nod, but thought better of it answered with a grim yes
instead.

She reached forward slowly and took his cheek in her hand, smoothing her
fingerprints along his grizzly cheek.

"Did you find it?"

She almost nodded too, but didn't, not wanting to shake the bed either.

"Yes."

"Do you believe it?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Why should I?"

His mouth hung open. "Maybe because I'm writhing in pain?"

She smiled. "That's not evidence. You're just about crazy enough-"

He clamped his hand down on her mouth.

"Watch it. You're not supposed to say the 'c' word around us mental
patients."

Scully rolled her eyes. "Okay, then, you're nuts enough-"

He slapped his hand on her mouth again, but this time she licked it.

His nose wrinkled up and he yanked it back, wiping it on her shoulder to
get off the saliva.

"Eew, Scully germs. Yuck."

She smiled, feeling disconnected from the horror of before.

"What's so bad about Scully germs?"

He grinned and gestured. "Nothing. As long as they're right here. . ."

Her eyes widened and she slapped his arm.

"Mulder!"

He grinned and leaned in closer to her.

"What? I didn't say anything."

She narrowed her eyes. "But you certainly thought something."

"Hey, that thing make you psychic too?"

"Psycho? What?"

He mock laughed and then sneered, turning over on his side away from
her.

"Mulder, whatever happened to, 'don't move, you'll shake the bed'?"

"Oh, I was lying."

She sighed and leaned over him, thumping his ear.

"Seriously, Mulder. How do you feel?"

"Seriously? I feel like the football team used me as their dummy during
practice for the Homecoming game."

A small hand came to his forehead and it felt nice and cool, resting
there, keeping his hot skin down to a somewhat manageable fire.

"Don't move," he whispered.

"I'm not falling for that one again."

"Hey, come on," he whined. "You left me in there."

She stiffened and her hand moved away, then the bed trembled as she got
up.

Mulder turned over, realizing he'd gone too far.

"Scully. . .Scully. . .I didn't mean it like that. . ."

She nodded to him, but her eyes were troubled and her face was a mask of
twisting shame.

He moved to the edge of the bed, trying to pull himself up and on his
feet, but his body wouldn't quite respond.

She flinched when he captured her hand, but let him pull her down to sit
beside him.

He brushed his lips across her cheek, feeling suddenly overwhelmed and
needing to reaffirm her presence.

She turned to him as his mouth left her skin, burying her nose into his
chest.

"You did what you had to do, Scully. I understand, I really do."

She nodded but didn't buy it.

"Why do I do this all the time, Mulder? Why can't I just stop running
and simply believe the things that are put before me?"

He chuckled and rubbed her back.

"Because then you wouldn't be my Scully."

She shivered.

"I think you have to see it, Mulder. . ."

He paused. "I think so too."

She nodded and pulled back. "I don't want you to go."

Mulder rubbed her chin with a hand. "You're coming with me."

"No, I don't want you to see it. It'll just change things, change
everything."

"Things need to change."

She shook her head.

Taking a chance, finding himself suddenly more confident or foolish or
some mixture of the two, he leaned forward and brushed her lips with his
own.

"Things need to change."

She glanced back to him, still stiff and sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I'm afraid to believe."

"I know. But I'm not. . ."

She took in a deep breath, closing her eyes briefly, feeling despair
claiming her.

"And that's what makes us so good," he whispered, and pulled her deep
into his embrace.

She felt brittle, dry, like every good thing in her had been used up.

But his belief, his arms, were soaking her with strength, pouring it
over her like anointing oil.

Maybe she wasn't so rotten anymore.

~~~~

end
adios
RM