Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully aren't mine.

Category: VA
Classification: Mulder/Scully UST
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Milagro
Archive: Gossamer. Others ask me.
Feedback: Be my guest.
Summary: Scully deals with the aftershocks of her traumatic attack.

"Hollow" (1/1)
by Lisa  
(haven599@msn.com)

    I feel like I can't catch my breath, I'm crying so hard. 
I can feel Mulder's arms around me, lifting me off the floor 
and over to the couch.  My eyes are closed, tears staining my 
cheeks.  Mulder whispers something to me, but the sound of 
my sobbing blocks the words out.  
    "Scully, Scully!" he shouts desperately trying to get my 
attention.  "Are you hurt?? Are you in pain?" 
    I try and speak, but no words come out of my mouth, so I 
aim for nonverbal communication and shake my head. Earlier,
I was in intense pain, a pain unlike anything I thought possible.
Even humanely possible.  
    I crane my head around the room, looking for the man who 
attacked me.  It wasn't Padgett.  He didn't do it.  Somebody 
bigger and stronger.  More vile.  
    "There's no one here.  It's just us.  Just us."  Mulder reassures
me.  "Just us." 
    I'm no longer terrified. In fact, I don't feel that bad except 
for a rapid heart beat, but that's just because of my flight-or-fight
response kicked in and I started shooting at my attacker.  I must
have shot him three or four times and nothing happened.  Did I 
imagine it?  Was I so enraptured by Padgett's tale that it started 
to consume me?  I don't think so.   
    "Do you want me to take you to the hospital?" Mulder asks. 
    "No." I answer.  "But, I feel blood. It's warm. It's all over . . 
me." I gasp.  The fear returns again, but it's not as intense
coupled with an empty, hollow feeling.
    "I'll take care of it."  he promises me and disappears for a 
few moments.  
    I feel him unbuttoning my blouse and wiping away the blood
with a warm washcloth. I close my eyes and reach for his 
free hand, squeezing it.  He squeezes back ever so gently.  
    "Is that better?" 
    I nod, but still don't feel clean.  It a sticky feeling.  I have 
to know what happened to Padgett and his accomplice, or whoever
that was that attacked me.  "Mulder, what happened to . . . how 
did you know?  Who was that . . . that attacked . . . hurt me . . . "
The words just tumble from my lips, even though I'm trying to 
form coherent sentences.
    "Later.  You need to rest.  To calm down from what happened. Try
not to think about it.  I'll be right here." Mulder sits on the table 
next to me, stroking my hair.  My heart rate gradually slows and I 
fall into a light sleep. 

****

    I slowly open my eyes, remembering I am here with Mulder. 
    "Well, you slept about 20 minutes."  Mulder told me. 
    "I'm just not comfortable like this."  I admit. 
    "Sorry.  Why don't you go sleep on the bed?  I wasn't thinking,
sorry."  he explains.
    "I want to take a shower.  Can I use yours?" I ask.
     "Sure . . . Are you sure you're feeling up to it?" 
    "I think so."  I am touched by his concern.  I slide off the 
couch, forgetting my blouse was open and quickly close it.  I 
don't think Mulder cares, but I do.  
    I look for any injuries while I'm in the shower, but come up 
empty.  No cuts, bruises, or anything unusual.  My skin looks 
normal - untouched by a man's hands. I start to feel unsteady and
a little dizzy, so I turn off the water, grabbing a towel and sit 
down on the toilet until I don't feel lightheaded anymore. 
    "Scully? Do you need anything?" Mulder calls through the door.
    "No, I'm fine."  
    "I was just worried - you were in there awhile, that's all." 
he admits. "I put something outside the door you can put on."
   "Thank you."  I say softly. I hear him walk away from the door.
I open it and reach for the blue shirt on the floor.  It's a warm 
sweatshirt, probably one he jogs in.  It feels good as I slide it 
over my body and hangs down to mid-thigh. I towel my hair to get
the excess wetness off it and head back out to the other room. 
    Then I see it.  My blood on the floor nearby the table.  I start 
to tremble again.  I hear Mulder's footsteps behind me. 
    "Scully, c'mon, let's go in the other room." My eyes are still
fixed on that spot.  He takes my hand and leads me towards his 
bedroom.  "I think you should stay here tonight or at least get 
a couple hours sleep.  I don't want you driving until you've 
rested."  
    "Tell me what happened with Padgett."  I ask.  He filled
me in on the conversation down in the basement and how Padgett
admitted I was supposed to die at the end of the story.  
    Mulder was unaware of the unknown assailant trying to carry out
the work of his creator.  
    I lie back on Mulder's bed, the events of the past few days 
running through my mind.  Maybe I encouraged Padgett somehow.
He wasn't a writer - he was a stalker and I was his prey.  He was 
doing everything in his power to carefully set the trap and capture
me.    
    Capture. Capture my heart.  He almost did. 
    I try to block out the images of the man hurting me. It's
hard and I have to press my face into the pillow and curl up on 
my side with one hand over my heart.   My tears run down onto 
the pillow and I pray for an exhausted, dreamless sleep. 
    It comes sooner than I expect.  
    I awaken sometime later to feel Mulder's body next to mine. I 
don't remember if I had a nightmare and he was comforting me 
or he just wanted to be close to me because of what I endured.
 Right now, I didn't care as long as I wasn't alone.  
     The hollow feeling is gone now.
 
****

END (1/1)