From: "Stephanie A. Kaiser" Date: Sun, 31 Jan 1999 04:07:46 -0600 Subject: Haunted Moon by Stephanie Kaiser --- --- A deep agonizing moan woke Mulder from the dark blackness of sleep. Immediately the painful throbbing that filled his head brought into focus that the moan had come from this own throat. Still deep in the haze of unconsciousness, Mulder tried to move his hand to the back of the head. The ache at the base of his skull took an immediate backseat to the realization that his hands were bound above his head. Slowly opening his eyes, the room blurred and began to spin as his stomach lurched toward his throat. Another low moan broke the eerie silence as Mulder tightly squeezed his eyes closed and took a long, deep breath. Minutes passed as he concentrated only on taking the slow, deep even breaths that would abate the nauseating spin the room seemed intent on taking. When his stomach began to calm, Mulder tried to remember what had happened: walking down the stairs, footprints in the hallway, closed door, pain, Scully. Where was Scully? Physically trying to shake the fog from his thoughts, Mulder moved his head from side to side. Using the sharpness of the pain that ensued to bring him to full alertness, he opened his eyes. It took his eyes a few minutes to adjust, but thankfully the room was lit only lantern and soft flame. The object of his search came into view instantly. Scully lay motionless on a steel exam table directly in front of him. Panic surged into his mind until he was able to detect the rise and fall of her chest. "Scully?" No response. "Scully?" Still no response. It was time to get them both the hell out of there. He seemed to be lying on a make-shift hospital bed. There was a mattress under him and bars framed the bed. His hands, he viewed looking carefully above his head, were handcuffed together. The handcuffs were twined through the bars of the bed. Giving his arms one hard downward pull assured him that the steel was sturdy -- and dammit -- they were his own handcuffs. Velcro straps secured his ankles to the bed and a leather belt of sorts tightly held him to the bed at the waist. The bed was tipped at an angle so that Mulder was positioned almost up-right facing the center of the dark room. Facing Scully. Scully was bound in the same manner, except her arms were at her sides secured by velcro at the wrists. The steel table was also at a vertical angle. Facing Mulder. Medical equipment surrounded the table where Scully was held. Looking to his left, Mulder saw a few of the same machines, although not as many. He recognized the EKG machine and the heart monitor from his many trips to the hospital, the other equipment he would have to wait for Scully to identify. He noticed that the machines were lit up, indicating that they were being supplied with electricity, yet the room was lit by lanterns. He guessed they were being held in the basement of the house. The floor was a gray cement, the ceiling was the same rotting wood that made up the rest of the house. Heavy, dark drapes concealed the area behind Scully and the two walls on the left and the right. There was a television set on his right and several Bunsen burners were located on small tables throughout the room. The burners heated glass beakers filled with vibrantly colored boiling liquid. There were no windows that he could see, and no doors. "Mulder?" Her voice was soft, weak. Mulder's gaze snapped back to see Scully groggily moving her head from side to side, as though trying to rid herself of the annoying blackness that was pervasively trying to recapture her. "Come on Scully. Open your eyes." Mulder coaxed. Her eye lids were so heavy. Her lips were dry and the effort it was going to take to wake up seemed to much to grasp at the moment. "Come on, Scully." Scully focused on Mulder's voice, took a deep breath and opened her eyes. Her vision was blurred and it took a few moments to focus. Her first sight was Mulder, watching her expectantly. "It's about time you woke up," he joked, relieved to see her conscious. "Sorry," she replied weakly. Scully closed her eyes again and stretched her neck from side to side. Trying to move and stretch the rest of her body, she opened her eyes and took formal notice of the restraints. "Where the hell are we Mulder?" Scully sighed, taking in not only her own restraints but Mulder's also. "I think it must be the basement. There's power coming from somewhere, but no lights. I don't think the room is sound proof, but you can hardly hear the storm. I think the drapes on the walls are to muffle the sound." Mulder noticed Scully trying to concentrate on what he was saying but her eyes kept drifting closed. "Scully, did you get hit on the back of the head?" "No," she answered still groggy from the effects of the drug. "He used chloroform or something similar." "He?" "I hit him before I blacked out. He groaned like a *he*." "Way to go Scully, make him angry." Mulder teased. "Did you get hit on the back of the head?" "He came up from behind me," he explained, his pride still a bit bruised. "How's your vision? Headache?" Scully fought the lack of control she was feeling by slipping into a familiar role...taking care of Mulder. "My vision was fine, Scully, the moment I woke up and saw you there," he admitted quietly. "What happened after I left you?" He asked quickly shifting the conversation. "I found the others. The people reported missing. They're dead, Mulder." Scully reported softly after a moment. "How?" "The backstairs Melinda referred to led to a room. It was an open grave. There were bodies all over the floor. I didn't get time to determine cause of death." "Melinda?" "We were separated," Scully answered briskly. "Did you come up with a way to get us out of here while I was unconscious?" "Well, I had a great plan A, but then I remembered that I brought the real hand cuffs and not the fake plastic ones." He clanged the cuffs loudly against the bed frame for effect. "I don't suppose you came up with a plan B?" "I did, of course it depends on if you woke up with telekinetic powers..." She shook her head slowly, looking around the room. "What's behind me?" "A heavy dark drape, a table with a Bunsen burner heating a purple liquid and next to the burner..." she strained her neck trying to get a better look. "I think it's our guns." "What's all the medical equipment? I recognize the EKG machine and the heart monitor." She scanned the machines next to him and those to her immediate left. "The rest look like simple monitoring devices. Blood pressure. Pulse rate. Galvanized Skin Response monitor. My chemistry's rusty -- I don't know what all the liquid on the burners are." "What about the machine on the cart next to you?" Scully twisted her head and tried to get a glance at the cart Mulder was referring to. It was too far back for her to see. She tried to shift her body to slide closer to the edge of the table. Although she couldn't move her body, she did notice that the restraint on her right side was loose. "Mulder, I think I can get my right hand free," she whispered quietly, beginning to struggle to pull her hand away from the restraint. Mulder watched her silently. When her hand was almost free from the velcro straps, the curtain behind her parted and a figure stepped through the folds of material. Scully stopped her struggle and looked up to catch Mulder's eye. The figure was hidden behind the exam table and slowly Melinda walked around the table and into the center of the room. "Melinda!" Mulder exclaimed relieved. "Untie Scully. We can all still get out of here alive. Scully's right hand is almost free...:" "Mulder!" Scully shouted trying to stop him from revealing to much to the woman. "Help get her off the table." Mulder finished not understanding Scully's warning. "Of course." Melinda answered. Melinda stepped between the two tables, facing Scully. She met Scully's gaze. Scully found herself frightened at how empty Melinda's eyes seemed. Melinda took Scully's hand into her own and pushed it firmly down onto the bed. "Hold still." Melinda instructed as she pulled the velcro strap away from Scully's wrist. Then, still holding Scully's hand and never breaking eye contact, Melinda tightened the strap and re-fastened it over Scully's wrist. "What the hell is going on?" Mulder again futilely struggled to free himself. "Whatever's happening in this house -- she's a part of it." Scully answered, her eyes never leaving Melinda's, daring her to deny the accusation. The curtain behind Scully parted a second time and a deep masculine voice filled the room. "Very good, Agent Scully. Or should I address you as Dr. Scully?" Mulder and Scully both strained to see the owner of the voice while Melinda stepped back into the shadows of the darkened room. "I'd say you were a master of your craft, one of the FBI's finest, but alas, you are the one strapped to an exam table. Tsk, Tsk," the voice mocked. "Who are you?" Mulder demanded, still trying to get a glimpse of the elusive figure masked within the folds of the dark drapes. "What do you want?" "Fox Mulder. Agent Fox Mulder. Answers only to Mulder, hates the name Fox. You were on the FBI's fast track, until you lost your ambition, and some say your mind, in the stars." "Is this how we're going to spend the evening? Listening to a coward behind a curtain prove to us that he took our badges and did a little hacking into our files over the Internet?" Mulder shouted in the direction he had last heard the voice. A man stepped from the shadows and quickly encircled Scully's throat with his hand. Her body tensed but she refused to flinch in reaction. "No Mulder. I have a much better way to spend our evening," the man hissed into Scully's ear. "Get your hand off of me." Scully warned, her voice low and strong. Not moving a muscle, and defying him by not looking him in the eye, Scully waited. She felt the slight pressure of his fingers tighten briefly before leaving her neck. "Whatever the lady likes...for now." He walked away from her, focusing his attention now on Mulder. "Good catch, the Internet." He pulled a badge from each pocket and set them on a nearby table. "Your file said that you were highly intelligent, it must be just your career you're wasting, not your intellect." Scully studied the man as he walked away from her. Tall, hair that had once been dark was now prematurely graying. Slender...too slender. The white lab coat he wore hung off his skeletal frame. His cheeks were sunken, his eyes were deep caverns of darkness. She could still feel his cold bony fingers around her neck -- squeezing her throat. A dread like none other she had ever experienced chilled her blood. "The Internet? The machines? No lights? What's with all the doom and gloom?" Mulder questioned. "Atmosphere," he replied dramatically. "Don't tell me you don't appreciate the atmosphere I've created for you. I'm hosting this little gathering, just trying to make it more memorable for you. Not that I'm giving you time to remember it. That is a shame. I've gone to a lot of work here." "Don't you think it's about time you told us who you are and what you want?" Scully asked, tiring of the melodrama. "Oh, forgive me," he apologized turning to face her. "Let me introduce myself," he bowed and then straightened. "My name is Ethan Rupert." He stepped closer to Scully, emphasizing each word. "Doctor Ethan Rupert." "Is that supposed to mean something?" Mulder asked snidely. Scully's mind raced as Mulder spoke, she searched her memory for the familiar name. She knew that she had heard it somewhere, maybe read it. If she could just remember... "Oh my God." She spoke softly -- a whisper -- as she remembered. "Flattery, my dear Dana will get you nowhere," he returned the whisper, running his finger down her cheek. Scully twisted her face away from his touch. "You didn't have to hack into our files," she accused. "Although I'm sure your old passwords no longer work." "What's going on Scully?" "Dr. Ethan Rupert," she repeated. "Mulder, do you remember the scientist that disappeared almost a year ago? The big cover-up. Everyone knew he was working for the government doing research but after he disappeared no one could explain what he was researching." "You cracked." Mulder grinned, obviously remembering the tale. Rupert spun toward him, his eyes blazing with fury. "You don't know what you're talking about." Rupert fumed, becoming agitated by Mulder's words. "Think again, Dr. Frankenstein. You were working on some secret project for that branch of the government that doesn't exist, at least on paper, and you snapped. You killed two people in the lab. The military pulled your funding -- but you didn't stop. There were four more deaths before you went underground in DC. Then the higher-ups got a lead on you and you disappeared." "Too bad for you that you won't live through the night. It would be quite the feather in your cap if you were to bring me in." "I find feathers gaudy, over-dressed." Mulder stated smoothly. "From this moment - until your last - it doesn't matter what you find." Rupert snarled. "Is that what this is about? Why those people died? Research?" Scully questioned, drawing Rupert away from Mulder. "You are crazy." "Stop saying that!" Rupert ordered through clenched teeth. Scully watched his eyes fill with rage and she steeled herself against the blow she knew was coming as he raised his fist to strike. She heard the clanging of Mulder's handcuffs as he tried to break his way free of the binds. Just before his fist would have connected with her jaw, Scully saw Melinda step out from the shadows. "Ethan," she said sharply. His fist stopped only inches from her face. His fingers uncurled and ran down her cheekbone -- causing her stomach to wretch in disgust. "Everything is under control." Ethan said turning to Melinda and taking her hand for a moment before disappearing into the shadows of the room himself. "You have no idea of how hard this has been for him." Melinda spat in defense. "He gave his entire life to those people. He did everything - everything - he was ordered to do. He carried out orders that no one else would have been capable of doing. They gave him an assignment and when he carried it out...they branded him a criminal." "What are you, his lab assistant?" Mulder asked, sarcasm laced in his words. "Your real name wouldn't happen to be Igor, would it?" "No, Agent Mulder, I'm his wife." Ethan continued to circle in the shadows, muttering softly to himself and waving his arms. "What is this about? What is he researching?" Scully asked keeping an eye on Rupert. "It didn't start out like this. The military put him through med school. Someone decided he had special talents early on and he was assigned to a covert research project studying methods of extracting information." "Methods of torture." Mulder realized. "Not at first." Melinda said quickly. "At first he was studying fight and flight responses and how to synthetically mimic the biological stages of the flight response. Ethan felt that if he heightened anxiety, a person would be more apt to divulge information. He ran tests and collected the data." Melinda explained beginning to pace back and forth between Mulder and Scully. "The procedure was very promising, but they wanted it faster. Ethan experimented with different chemical combinations and he succeeded. He again took his data to the men in charge, it wasn't good enough. The drugs only worked in 60% of the cases and could cause immediate death in cases where people were allergic. They said they didn't have time to wait for a drug to take effect. It needed to be faster. It needed to be better." Her voice grew softer and she cast a quick glance over to Ethan. "Something happened to Ethan, he became driven to please these people. He took each rejected idea personally. He saw each attempt as a failure. He spent all his days and nights locked in the research lab studying human nature. He took note of each biological and psychological weakness known to man. He lost himself in that lab -- he killed himself for those people. And for what? One day he came out of the lab and said that he had found what they were looking for. He went to them, told them what he found. He reported that the procedure was 95% effective. They told him to prove it." "The first two deaths in the lab?" Scully asked and Melinda nodded. "They didn't like it, said that the new procedure left too much to chance. They said the research needed to stop. They weren't interested in it anymore -- they had moved on. But Ethan, Ethan couldn't move on, he couldn't understand how anyone could deny how perfect his method was. He tried to prove it to them twice more. The next thing we knew there were police questioning our friends about where we were. The same people who had put this entire plan into motion were now trying to arrest Ethan because he was doing exactly what they told him to do." "He kills people." Scully stated bitterly. "He kills people because that's what the government pays him to do. They convinced him. They convinced him that if he wasn't willing to work with them, that he was a traitor to his country. He didn't want to continue with the research after they had rejected the drug treatment. He had tried to get out, but then they threatened his life. When that didn't work, they threatened my life. That's when he came up with his current method." "Melinda, the government doesn't pay him any more. They are not going to suddenly take him back after all he's done." "You think I'd go back there?" Ethan stepped back into the conversation and back into the center of the room. "I'm not giving my results to a government that doesn't appreciate my methods. People with no loyalty, no creativity. People I gave up my life for and are now trying to hunt me down like a dog. I have one more trial to run and then my research data gets sold to the highest bidder. The highest bidder that is not the US government." "One more trial? That's us?" "That's you. Prep her Melinda." "Since you seem to be so proud of this so called *method*, would you care to let us in on what it is?" Mulder asked as he watched Melinda walk toward Scully. Rupert was quiet for a moment as he too watched Melinda. Melinda stepped toward Scully and began to unbutton the blouse Scully was wearing. Scully began to struggle beneath the woman's hands. Melinda pulled away and calmly checked the restraints to be certain they were tight. "Don't struggle." Melinda urged. "You'll only hurt yourself." Melinda continued to unbutton the blouse and then pulled the fabric away from Scully's body exposing her stomach and chest to the cold basement air. Melinda took a scissors from the stand next to the exam table and began cutting the material of the blouse's sleeve. First one and then the other, until she was able to pull the ruined garment away from her completely, leaving only her white cotton bra as covering. Moving to the end of the table, Melinda removed her shoes. Scully was beginning to panic. She watched the woman strip her of her clothing and was relieved when Melinda stopped with her shoes. The exam table was now extremely cold against her back and she couldn't help but wonder what was in store for her as Melinda began to hook her up to the various machines that were next to the bed. "My method, Agent Mulder, is very simple. If you want something from someone who doesn't want to give it to you, physically harming them will not get you what you want." "What will get you what you want?" Mulder asked keeping a close eye on what Melinda was doing to Scully. "Not to physically harm the person you want the information from - but to physically harm someone that person cares about." Scully looked up from where she was watching Melinda attach the different leads from the machines to her body. "Psychological torture?" She questioned. "My hypothesis is simply that psychological torture, as you put it so nicely, is more effective at breaking an individual than physical torture. I begin with you Dr. Scully -- I use electric shock, in progressive amounts, to get a heart rate, blood pressure and skin response reading to develop a baseline for your endurance level. Meanwhile, Agent Mulder's reactions to your physical discomfort are also recorded. Once you, Dana, inform me that you've had enough and you beg me to stop, then you switch places and the experiment begins again. My results so far indicate that the person forced to watch will experience much more distress than the person being given the electrical stimulation." Scully couldn't think, couldn't react. Her attention fell back to Melinda, who had just finished attaching her to all the monitors. All the leads made sense now, including the two electrodes she had placed on her back, right below her shoulder blades. She watched Melinda walk to Mulder and begin to unbutton his shirt. Mulder's mind was too fixated on the fact that he was going to have to watch this bastard hurt Scully to think clearly. Melinda was suddenly in front of him, unbuttoning his shirt. She pulled the material away from him and began attaching the correct monitors to his temples and chest. Mulder's eyes grabbed onto Scully's and held them. A silent promise passed between them. He gave her the strength to face what was ahead and in turn she gave him the strength to think clearly. "Your entire theory is based on psychological and emotional attachment. The basis for your method is two people who deeply care for one another," Mulder began, cautiously formulating his plan as he went. "The other eight couples that disappeared were couples - man and wife - they were married. They were in love," "Agent Mulder and I aren't emotionally attached," continued Scully, sure she knew where Mulder's line of thinking was going. "We work as partners for the FBI. You read our files. We work together. We aren't in love." "If you use us in this experiment, you're only going to skew your data. It won't be accurate. We only work together." Mulder insisted. Ethan smiled and walked to the television set at the side wall. Pushing it forward, he positioned it next to the two agents, giving them both a perfect view of the screen. "I thought that also. I was highly disappointed when I found your badges and your guns. I did read your file and I must admit I was about to let you go -- then I rewatched the scene that had me so excited about the two of you in the first place." "What are you talking about?" Scully looked at Mulder, whose eyes only mirrored her own curiosity. Ethan turned on the television and pressed the play button on the VCR. Soon the white static on the screen was replaced by a clear picture of the room they had been in when they had first arrived at the house. Scully was ready to dismiss the video as more delusions of a madman when she saw the camera zoom in on two figures on the couch. The figures were her and Mulder. She realized that there must have been a hidden video camera in the dark room. She was sleeping in the position she remembered, her head pillowed in Mulder's lap. Then, as she watched the video, she saw herself begin to toss on the sofa. Then she turned over. Mulder was trying to keep her comfortable and from falling off the couch when suddenly she turned and would have fallen if it hadn't been for Mulder's strong arms. She was sitting in his lap, sound asleep, snuggling against him while he stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head and her forehead. She watched the strangers on the screen. She watched the woman sleep in his arms. She watched the man whisper softly to her and brush his lips against the woman's skin. She was mesmerized by what she saw and how it was making her feel. This couple wasn't them. It couldn't be. Yet it was. She glanced away from the screen for a moment, to Mulder. So much time. So much wasted time. Wanting. Yearning. Wondering. Dreaming. To always be ripped apart from one another only to find each other again and still deny, deny each other the simple pleasure of being together. Together like she had just seen on the video tape. They had been so close in that hallway. So close to realizing what it would be like to be together. Mulder had told her what was in his heart. He had broken through her last remaining wall of defense by telling her how he felt. For so long she had believed that it was only her that needed him. She existed in his world and was a hindrance to his search more than a partner. She was the one who needed him, needed his drive, his support, his passion. But in the hallway he had told her that he needed her. She knew the instant he made the decision to kiss her. His eyes darkened and she saw when the internal struggle gave way to instinct. She had wanted him to kiss her. She had wanted to kiss him. But then the world fell out from under her, out from under both of them. She almost wished she'd never seen the tape. Never seen what might have been. Her, curled up in Mulder's lap; him kissing her, comforting her, keeping her safe. If she died tonight, on this damn table, she would die knowing what it would look like if they were together. She would die knowing there was so much they could finally say to each other. She would die after being given a glimpse of what it could have been. He could feel her eyes on him, could sense her confusion. He couldn't meet her eyes this time. Scully focused back on the screen and didn't move, even after Ethan had turned off the video and the television. She felt both men watching her, studying her. Melinda stepped in front of Scully, blocking the view of the two men. Scully looked up into the woman's eyes and what she saw there surprised her. She saw understanding. "Oh my God!" Ethan shrieked excitedly. "You've never told each other." He bent over at the waist in laughter. "How tragic..." His laughter amused him for a moment and then he straightened, dead serious once again. "And how perfect." "Rupert..." Mulder began. "Say it," Ethan challenged. "Say it. Let the last thing she hears from you be that you don't love her. Say it!" Mulder was silent, damning him with his eyes. Ethan turned to Scully. "Can you say it? Can you let the last words he hears from you be that you don't care? Come on. Say it!" He shouted at Scully. "Ethan, that's enough. We have to get started." Melinda interrupted before Scully could offer a reply. Ethan walked to where Scully was bound on the table. Melinda stepped around the table to Scully's other side. She struggled against the restraints again and Melinda pushed her shoulder back onto the table. "There's really nothing you can do." "What happens next?" Scully asked, nervously looking from Ethan to Melinda. "Next, Dana, I start with a low level of electrical stimulation. I record your response and Mulder's response. I slowly increase the level of stimulation and continue to record your individual responses." Ethan explained as he readied the equipment and calibrated the machines. "Until what?" Scully asked. "You slowly increase the level of electrical stimulation until what happens?" "For you, I continue until you beg me to stop." "And then what? What happens when I beg you to stop?" "Then you and your partner switch places." Ethan leaned over her to check the position of the monitors, his face directly next to hers. She could feel his breath on her neck. "What happens when he begs you to stop?" She whispered, not looking at him. Ethan moved so that his mouth was directly next to her ear. "When he begs me to stop -- I keep going," he whispered so that only she could hear him. Ethan lingered for a moment next to her ear before moving to Mulder and checking the equipment there. "Melinda," she called quietly to the woman next to her. "What happens to the one who's left?" "What?" "How does he kill the one who's left?" "It's quick, painless. He uses an injection. You won't feel a thing." Melinda promised as she left Scully and walked to Mulder. She looked down at her body. She felt the machines attached to her skin. She heard the heart monitor signaling her heart beat. She was aware of the restraints holding her wrists, ankles, and waist to the metal table. She looked to Mulder, saw the same restraints binding his ankles and his waist. She saw the machines attached to his chest. Her eyes traveled up to the hand-cuffs holding his wrists above his head. Her eyes moved down his arms and met his hazel gaze. His eyes moved to her hand where the restraint had once been loose. His eyes then hopefully moved back up to hers. She tried to move her hand again, it was held tightly. She shook her head. The hope that had been in his eyes died. --- --- Scully took a deep measured breath and looked up to see Ethan walking back toward her. Melinda remained standing next to Mulder. "Here we go. Ready or not." Ethan prompted as he set the dials on the machine next to her that she assumed controlled the electrical current. Scully set her jaw and turned her head so that she saw neither Ethan nor Mulder. She closed her eyes and concentrated only on her breathing. She heard the snick of the switch on the machine being thrown before she was aware of the current coursing through her body. She clenched her eyes tightly closed and her lips formed a thin line as she squeezed them together. Scully took two deep breaths through her nose, and then the sensation was over. She let out a rush of breath from her mouth and unclenched her fists. "Scully?" Mulder shouted from in front of her. She turned, opened her eyes to him and nodded her head to tell him that she was fine. The printers and machines on both sides of the room were loudly recording their bodies' physical responses to the exercise. "Going up." Ethan whispered in her ear as he turned the dials on the machine. Scully took a deep breath, but was only able to get half the amount of oxygen she needed when her body arched off the table in a painful response to the electrical current. She heard Mulder scream her name as she bit tightly down on her lower lip to keep from crying out in agony. The waist restraint embedded into her skin and it wasn't until Ethan cut the power that her body fell back against the table. A tear from her eye fell across her check disappearing into her hair as she tasted the slight metallic flavor of blood from the inside of her mouth where she had bit down. Her breathing was becoming labored and she fought to fill her lungs with short gasps. "Anytime Scully." Ethan taunted, his mouth against her ear. "You have the power to end this. Just beg me to stop." "Bastard," Scully spat before being thrown into another electrical seizure. Her body felt as if it were being pulled apart from the inside. Her teeth tore into the already ripped flesh of her inner lip and her fingernails dug into the palm of her hand. But still she fought him. The siege upon her body again temporarily ended and she gasped for breath. "Ethan, come here." Melinda called from where she stood next to Mulder. Scully could still hear Mulder calling her name, so she knew for the moment he was fine. She focused on her breathing and slowly she heard the heart monitor next to her return to a steady regular beat. She had to stay calm. She had to be ready when Mulder came up with a plan to get them out of here. Mulder always came up with a plan. He always saved her. She always saved him. From the very beginning they had saved each other. How many times had he rushed in at the very last moment and rescued her. He had saved her from a town full of cannibals, Donnie Pfaster, an alien spaceship, even cancer. She had rescued him from the iron grip of a virtual reality nightmare, a sweeper team in Puerto Rico, and many times she had rescued him from himself. He would save her this time. They were not going to die in the crazed hands of this man. She would fight to hang on and he would save her. Mulder urgently called her name again and with effort she opened her eyes. One look at him and she knew. His eyes were ablaze with desperation. His body was covered with a fine layer of sweat from his struggle. Blood trickled down his arms from where he beat his wrists against the metal cuffs in trying to escape. They were going to die. She closed her eyes to him and let her head fall to the side. She needed to rest. She needed to think. She was going to die on this table. All she had to do to stop it was scream -- but then she would have to watch Mulder die. She knew, of the two of them, she was the strong one. She knew what it would do to Mulder if he was forced to watch her die. She knew what it was doing to him having to watch her suffer. She knew that he would willingly trade places with her in an instant. His eyes were begging her to scream out. But in her heart she knew that she couldn't. She couldn't be the strong one this time. She couldn't watch Mulder die. She couldn't watch his body wracked with the kind of pain she was going to experience. She would be strong and let Rupert defeat her, but only because she was weak. She heard Rupert return to the machine next to her and she heard him again adjust the dials. "Come on Scully. Tell me to stop. No one's gone this far on the first trial. Tell me to stop and I won't flip the switch." Ethan coaxed. Scully was silent, resigned to her fate. The pain was everywhere all at once. She was being burned alive. Her jaw clamped shut, preventing the scream that began low in her throat from escaping. Bright colors and bursts of white exploded behind her eyes and she was unable to breathe. Pinpricks of pain tore at her skin and wounded her body. Her blood boiled in her veins and just as the darkness was about to claim her, the torture ended. "You're killing her!" Mulder screamed, metal battling metal as his cuffs scraped across the bed frame. "Scully, tell him to stop, for God's sake tell him to stop." "Ethan," Melinda walked to stand next to him. "You have to switch them. She's going to die. The voltage and the amps are too high. You're going to kill her too soon." "Shut up!" Ethan hissed shoving Melinda away from Scully. "She will beg for her life, or she will die." "If she dies, you'll never finish your research. They will send people out looking for them. They're from the FBI. We'll get caught." "She will beg me for her life, or she will die." Ethan repeated, his eyes glazed with madness. Melinda walked back to Mulder. She busied herself checking the read outs from the various printers he was attached to. "She won't beg him," Mulder said quietly to Melinda -- as well as confirming it out loud to himself. "Scully won't beg." "Then she will die." Melinda answered simply. "Scully," Mulder pleaded. "Scully, just scream out. Scream out my name and it will be over. Just scream out my name," he begged. Ethan gave her a moment to respond to Mulder's plea. When she didn't, he turned the electrical current on. Mulder closed his eyes and tears escaped out from under both lids. He couldn't watch. He couldn't stand to see her body convulsing in pain and not be able to do anything about it. He heard the current being turned off followed by the audible *thump* of her body falling back against the table. Mulder opened his eyes. The sight of her made him wish that his own death would come sooner. Her skin was white. Her hair was matted against her head with sweat. Her eyes were still closed and her chest rose and fell unevenly as she tried to breathe. "Help her." Mulder begged Melinda. "She doesn't deserve this. Why won't she stop him?" "Because she knows that if she does, she'll have to watch you die." "Scully," he yelled again. "Scully, open your eyes," he requested desperately. He couldn't let her die without her knowing the truth. Her response was slow, but she opened her eyes and tried to focus them on him. "Scully, I love you," he cried. "I should have told you long before this, but it's true. I need for you to make him stop hurting you. Make him stop, Scully." Through the tears in his eyes he saw the small smile form on her lips and the tear run down her face. He was hopeful for an instant until he saw her turn her head away from him and close her eyes. "Nice try." Ethan mocked, "but obviously not good enough." He again adjusted the dials of the machine and threw the switch. Mulder felt his throat constrict as he watched her body convulse once and then go still, the heart monitor next to her screaming a long steady, deadly wail. "Scccullleee..." Mulder screamed out to her, begging her to return to him. Half his heart ripped out of his chest, half his mind left him and half his soul was replaced by a throbbing chasm filled only with anguish. The skin ripped from his wrists, the metal tore into his flesh, as he tried to pull free. He didn't feel. He couldn't catch his breath, the air was being forcibly sucked from his lungs. He didn't think. He could only watch, more powerless than he had ever been before. His mind and mouth chanted her name in a desperate plea he believed she could still hear. Scully's body stayed motionless on the exam table. Rupert struggled to get the table level. He opened her mouth and tried to blow life back into her body. "What are you doing?" Melinda demanded. She gave up trying to restrain Mulder and moved quickly to Ethan. He worked frantically, performing CPR on Scully. "Charge the defibrillator," he ordered her. "Ethan, she's dead." "That's why you need to charge the defibrillator," Rupert hissed. "It's too late." Melinda insisted, trying to stop Ethan. He reacted violently, pushing her to the floor and flipping the switch on the machine himself. "If you're not going to help me, stay away from me." Rupert bellowed before returning to Scully. "This bitch is not going to beat me. She will beg me for her life. I'm not going to make this easy for her. I'm not going to just let her die. She's going to suffer before she dies." Melinda watched him silently from where she lay on the floor. Standing, she walked to him and handed him the paddles he needed to save Scully's life. The paddles he needed to prolong her suffering. The essence that was Scully joined and watched. Half rising from her, half rising from him. The body she knew was still as Rupert and Melinda worked over it. She was drawn not toward the body she needed to live, but toward the body that needed her to live. Mulder. His eyes were filled with terror as he watched. His face wet with a combination of sweat and tears. His body bruised with the struggle of trying to free himself to save her. She didn't want to leave him. She wasn't ready to leave him. She didn't understand why this time it had taken them so long to find each other. Why it had been so difficult. She wanted to comfort him. She wanted to promise him that next time it wouldn't be so hard. She wanted to tell him everything she felt for him now, while it was still clear. She drifted toward him, wanting to soothe his suffering before she was forced to leave him. Suddenly, she was the one being ripped apart by the pain. Rupert took the paddles from Melinda. Placing them on Scully's chest, he tried to start her heart. The monitor next to the bed ceased its long cadence and started a slow syncopated chirping. Mulder watched her chest begin to rise and fall on its own. He closed his eyes and filled his own lungs with air. She was alive. Scully was alive. It was hard for her to breathe, but she knew that she was lucky to be breathing. Her chest felt heavy and her skin stretched tightly over her bones, but she felt cold. There was no longer a hot stinging sensation over-coming her. Her body was trying to re-stabilize her temperature. She listened for a moment to the heart monitor. The beeps were getting stronger. Her breathing was becoming more regular, unlike the ragged intakes of breath she heard across from her. She opened her eyes and saw...Mulder. The voice she heard, however, was Rupert's. "Ready for round two?" He cackled with excitement. She turned her face and met his gaze. Hate and loathing shot at him from her tired blue eyes. "Now. Now." Rupert scolded. "Be grateful. I saved your life. But don't get too comfortable. I'm only going to take it again." Melinda stepped between Ethan and Scully. She began to remove the restraints that were holding Scully to the table. "What are you doing?" Ethan demanded. "She needs to rest. You can't begin again right away. She has to get some of her strength back if she's going to be any good to us." Melinda explained, continuing to free Scully's wrists and ankles. "Why are you letting her go?" "Where's she going to go, Ethan? She's too weak to go anywhere." Melinda argued while she struggled to unfasten the waist restraint. "What are you going to do with her?" "I'm going to put her with him." Rupert clamped his hands over Melinda's, effectively stopping her from completely freeing Scully. "No you are not!" He shouted at her. "Ethan. If you want her to beg for her life, which you obviously do, the only one who can get her to do that -- is him." Melinda gestured toward Mulder. Rupert paused for a moment and then helped Melinda remove the restraint. Ethan grabbed Scully by the back of the neck and roughly pulled her off the table. Unable to get her balance, Scully crumpled to the floor. "Dammit Rupert! Haven't you done enough to her?" Mulder yelled. "No Agent Mulder," Rupert snarled, literally stepping over Scully on the floor to get into Mulder's face. "I haven't done enough to her. I haven't done nearly enough to her." Rupert turned and grabbed Scully by the hair. She moaned as he pulled her to her feet. Melinda rushed to her and helped him to support her as Rupert pulled her to Mulder. "And if you do truly care about her, you'll use this time I'm giving you to teach her to beg," he spat. Rupert pushed past Melinda and Scully and left the room, ripping the curtains down behind the now empty exam table. Melinda waited until he was gone before lowering the bed Mulder was in to a horizontal position. Carefully, she helped a weakened Scully onto the bed with Mulder. Scully immediately curled her body around his, resting her head on his chest. Melinda turned to leave the room. "Melinda?" Mulder asked hopefully one last time. She turned to him. Her face sorrowful, but her eyes empty. She shook her head and left the room. Mulder ducked his head and rested his cheek on top of Scully's head. "Scully," he whispered softly. "You are so stubborn. Why do you have to be so stubborn?" His voice broke on a half-choked sob. Because if you weren't, you wouldn't be my Scully." Mulder said, answering his own question. "Are they gone?" She asked, her voice so soft that he had to strain to hear her. "Yes. It's just you and me." Scully began to wiggle and squirm her way up Mulder's body and toward the top of the bed. "What are you doing?" "Saving your ass," she said directly into his ear. "So then maybe you can get me the hell out of here." "How are you going to open the cuffs?" He asked, now eye level with her navel. "The key," she answered, opening her hand and revealing the small metal key. "Melinda gave it to me." Scully reached up and unlocked the cuffs binding his wrists. Mulder carefully shifted Scully lower on the bed and began to unbuckle the belt holding his waist. Next he unstrapped his ankles and climbed off the bed. Tenderly he lifted Scully off the bed. Pulling the sheet from the mattress, he wrapped it around her tiny frame. "Can you walk?" "I think so," she answered honestly. "Let's see what you can do." Mulder lowered her to the floor, keeping a strong grip around her waist. She put weight on her feet and was thankfully able to stand. He released her briefly, only to duck behind the bed and grab the gun that was on the table. She reached out and grabbed their badges, steadying herself by gripping the table. "Only one," he reported to her, snaking his arm around her again and leading her to the door. He stopped only once to grab her shoes and help her to put them on. They had almost reached the back door when Scully stumbled over the fallen curtain. Mulder bent to help her up unaware of his approach until the madman's knee forcibly connected with his stomach. Getting the upper hand, Rupert grabbed the gun and shoved Mulder to the floor. "Going somewhere? I think not!" He exploded, grabbing Scully by the arm and yanking her to her feet. Wobbly she stood next to him, the gun pressed to her back. "Move and I'll kill her," he warned Mulder. "Melinda!" The madman screamed. His wife hurried through the doorway, caught off guard by what she saw. "Come here Melinda," he beckoned. Melinda approached, hesitantly. She stood eye to eye with him. "Help me get her back to the table." Melinda turned to take Scully from him and was unprepared for the crashing blow as his fist connected with her cheekbone. She fell at his feet and Rupert viciously struck out with his foot and kicked her in the side. "How did she get the key to the cuffs, Melinda? You almost ruined this whole night. Don't you understand," he pushed her toward Mulder with his foot. "Nothing matters but this. This experiment is the only thing that means anything to me, and you tried to take it away from me." "Rupert!" Mulder warned, putting himself between Ethan and Melinda. "Shut up!" He shouted. He pressed the gun more firmly into Scully's back causing her to wince in pain. "You never understood. All these years of perfecting this procedure and you throw it away. You know how important this is. All those years in that lab, this is the only thing that kept me going. The only thing that made me want to get out of bed in the morning. The only thing I live for. You tried to take that away from me." Rupert was becoming agitated again and Mulder watched him closely, waiting for an opportunity to strike. It came sooner than he thought it would. Mulder watched Rupert push Scully toward the exam table, her feet still tangled in the cords of the drapes on the floor. He bent with her to untangle her feet when Scully used as much strength as she could summon to elbow him in the throat. Rupert was knocked off balance and that was the only opportunity Mulder needed to attack. Mulder leaped and threw Rupert to the floor. The gun skidded across the floor to the far end of the room. Scully fell to the side and while the two men struggled, she began to crawl toward the gun. The two men battled on the floor. Just when Scully thought that Mulder had the upper hand, Rupert would rally. Mulder shoved Rupert hard with his hands to his chest and the older man flew backward, knocking over one of the many tables throughout the room. The Bunsen burner crashed to the floor. The glass vial of liquid smashing into pieces and the flame igniting the curtain still hanging on the side wall. Rupert picked up a piece of the shattered vial and brandishing it as a weapon, he advanced toward Mulder. Backing away, Mulder accidentally pushed another beaker to the floor, torching the curtain on the opposite wall. The room was rapidly filling with smoke and flame. Scully pushed herself forward to reach the gun, pausing she turned to see Rupert standing over Mulder holding the jagged glass. The smoke stung her eyes and as she turned away -- a gunshot exploded in the room. Scully watched Rupert look down in surprise at the red stain spreading across the front of his lab coat. She looked up to see Melinda holding the gun, tears streaming down her face. "I'm your husband," he shrieked at her as he fell to his knees. "My husband's dead." She raised the gun and fired it at him a second time. Rupert's body sagged to the floor. Mulder quickly approached Melinda. "Melinda -- give me the gun," he requested holding his hand out to her. His voice was calm and steady, but his eyes revealed his apprehension as he watched the flames spread. She looked away from Ethan's body and handed the gun to Mulder. The flames now covered three of the room's four walls and were licking hungrily at the ceiling. Mulder crouched down to the floor and helped Scully to her feet. "Come on, there's only one way out of here." Melinda instructed, moving toward the door behind the exam table. Flames rolled across the ceiling like storm-tossed waves across an indifferent sea. Mulder picked Scully up into his arms and rushed to the door. Melinda stopped briefly over Ethan's body. "Do you want me to get him out?" Mulder asked her. "No," she shook her head. "He belongs here." Melinda led them through the dark basement corridors while the fire continued to spread, devouring the rotting structure. The smoke in the hallway was becoming thick. "It's getting hot in here. Are you all right?" Scully asked her partner, fully aware of his fear of fire. "I always said I would walk through fire for you if you needed me to, Scully. I just never thought you would take me literally." He spoke, his brow wrinkled in concentration as he traveled through the dark hall. This was one of his own many private versions of hell, trapped in a burning smoke-filled house. He fought against the over-whelming urge to give into the paralyzing fear. There was only one reason his brain continued to function and his legs continued to carry him forward -- the woman in his arms. A flight of stairs brought them up to the ground floor of the house. The fire was already there, engulfing the hallway. Mulder clutched Scully tighter in his arms and followed Melinda toward the front door. Melinda opened the door and held it open against the wind of the still raging storm. Mulder took Scully out onto the front porch and wrapped the sheet more tightly around her to shelter her from the sharp biting wind. Mulder turned in time to see Melinda close to the front door of the house and lock herself inside. "Melinda!" Mulder yelled above the storm. He stepped up next to the door, Melinda met his eyes through the smudged cracked glass window. She placed her hand on the glass. Scully reached out and put her hand on the outside of the glass -- opposite Melinda's. Scully met the woman's eyes. They were no longer void of emotion. Melinda's eyes brimmed with determination, resignation -- and something else Scully didn't recognize at first, but then realized was peace. "Let's go Mulder. She's not going to leave him." Mulder took one last look at the woman behind the glass and stepped off the porch into the storm. He carried Scully down the broken sidewalk and didn't turn around until they had reached the road. He saw the flames inside the windows of the house. Pulling Scully closer to him, he turned and headed up the hill back to the car. He hoped the house burned all the way to hell. The rain beat against the gravel and water ran in streams down the road. Mulder trudged up the hill, fighting the storm. Scully shivered in his arms. "Where are we going?" She asked. "The car. It'll be dry and we can get your bag and you can change. I need to figure out a way to get you to a hospital. I'll drive on the rims if I have to." "No hospital, Mulder." Scully insisted. "You're going to the hospital." "Mulder, my life has revolved around hospitals." Scully pulled her hand out from under the wet sheet and cupped his cheek. "I don't want to go to a hospital. Not tonight." "You can barely walk." Scully struggled to get out of his arms, wanting to prove him wrong. His arms only tightened around her. "Fine, no hospital. Hold still." She settled against his chest again and Mulder continued his journey to the car. Once there he carefully put Scully in the back seat and grabbed their bags and the emergency first aid kit from the trunk. Climbing in the back seat next to her, he closed the door. "Jesus, Scully, do you think we've ever been this wet?" "Cold," she muttered, her teeth chattering loudly. "I know. We need to get you warmed up." "Too bad we don't have one of those sleeping bags." Scully eyed him coyly, her eyes peeking up above the wet sheet. Mulder turned and grinned at the memory before rummaging through her bag for some dry clothes. "Remind me when I get back to DC that my first trip is to an army surplus store." Mulder gave up searching through her bag and pulled a sweatshirt from his bag. He unwrapped the sheet from around her and threw it on the floor of the car. He helped her into the sweatshirt, rolling up the sleeves for her. "Thank you," she whispered. "Any time." Mulder climbed into the front seat, Scully trying not to grin at him as his head hit the top of the car. He turned the key in the ignition. The car sputtered and then was silent. He turned the key again -- again the car sputtered and died. "Do you think it's flooded?" Scully asked from behind him. Mulder scowled at the pun and glanced at her in the rear view mirror. She was quite a sight, wet hair, bundled up in his sweatshirt -- beautiful. Still looking in the mirror, Mulder saw the flashing red and blue lights of a squad car pulling up behind them. "Still got our badges in your pocket?" Scully handed him his badge and he took it from her, holding her hand for a long moment. "I'll be right back," he promised her. Scully watched Mulder get out of the car before she lay her head back and rested. After a couple of minutes Mulder opened the back door and grabbed their bags. "Do we need anything else?" Scully was silent, her eyes closed. "Scully?" Mulder dropped the bags and crawled across the seat to her. "Hmmm..." she muttered not opening her eyes. "I'm so tired, Mulder." Mulder let out a sigh of relief and passed the three bags to the sheriff standing behind him in the rain. "I know you're tired, Scully. You go ahead and sleep." Mulder gathered her up into his arms and carried her to the awaiting squad car. He climbed in the backseat and held Scully in his lap. "Agent Mulder?" The sheriff questioned. "We need to get her to the nearest hospital," he said before settling back in the seat and tucking her head beneath his chin. --- --- But still it rained. The thunder and lightning had made peace with each other, but still it rained. The sun had set several hours ago, replacing the gray sky with a deep, dark black. The moon -- although not as full as it had been two nights ago -- was beginning to appear through the clouds. The wipers pushed the water from the windshield of the squad car, occasionally squeaking against the glass. Sheriff Monroe was idly making conversation by filling Scully in on what had occurred during her absence as he drove. "The fire department and a rescue squad got out to the house. The structure itself was still standing, probably due to the rain, but the inside of the house was gutted by the fire. We didn't find any survivors, and hell, we wouldn't have found any of the bodies for a good day or two if it hadn't been for Agent Mulder. He led us to the two in what used to be the lab. It was a bit trickier to find the rest. It will be a long identification process. We're going to start by trying to match the people reported missing with the remains of those we found. I still can't believe..." The sheriff continued to speak and Mulder tried to concentrate on what the man was saying, but all of his concentration was focused on Scully. He could see her out of the corner of his eye. She was sitting as far away from him as the limited space in the backseat of the car allowed. Her shoulder was pressed against the window of the door. Her back was ram-rod straight, her shoulders squared, her arms crossed, her chin set, her lips pursed and her eyes looking only straight forward. He knew that the position she was stubbornly holding must be hurting her tired body a great deal. He had realized that the decision he made would have ramifications, but he hadn't expected this. Scully was furious, and he was the source of her anger. She had spent thirty-six hours in the hospital. Scully hadn't spoken two civil words to him since she had woken up in the emergency room bay. In his own defense, he justified, he hadn't *promised* her that he wouldn't take her to the hospital. When he had been sure she was in good hands, he had joined the fire department back at the house. At least there he had felt like he could be of some help. The doctors had poked and prodded. They had run tests and taken her blood. They had deemed her very lucky to be alive and against their recommendations, she had signed herself out. Mulder wasn't sorry that he had taken her to the hospital, but the look on her face told him that he would be. The sheriff slowed the car and pulled up in front of the local motel he had suggested. "Agent Mulder, I called ahead and John said he would have the rooms ready for you. You just need to pick up the keys. Unfortunately, the electricity is still out in the area. They hope to have it back up by morning." "I'm sure it will be fine. I'll get the keys and be right back." Mulder opened the car door and looked hopefully at Scully -- her eyes stayed focused straight ahead. Getting out of the car, Mulder ran through the rain and into the motel office. John, as promised, was waiting. Mulder signed for the rooms and took the keys. He walked back outside into the rain and saw Scully standing under a nearby awning, their suitcases and the first aid kit from the car at her feet. "Where is Sheriff Monroe?" Mulder asked, ducking under the shelter with her. "He got a call," she answered simply. "He said he would make sure the garage delivers the car tomorrow." "He just left you here?" Mulder asked, angry at the man's thoughtlessness. "Mulder, I told him to go," Scully explained, her words curt. She carefully bent and picked up the emergency kit, the smaller of the three bags. "Where are the rooms?" "Over there," Mulder pointed across the parking lot to an adjacent set of rooms. He scanned the area and saw that the only way to the rooms was across the lot -- out in the rain. Scully came to the same conclusion. She stepped out from under the awning. Wearily and with caution, she began walking across the pavement. Mulder lifted her bag and put the strap over his shoulder. He picked up his suitcase and in three steps he caught up to Scully. He put his free hand in the small of her back and slowly they walked through the rain. She felt his familiar touch and although she was still angry with him, it comforted her. The rain washed over her skin. The pain-killers the doctor had insisted she take were beginning to have an effect. She was becoming disoriented and it was taking all of her concentration to continue moving forward. She knew Mulder could have easily crossed the lot faster than they were currently moving. She was grateful that he stayed by her side. It wasn't that he had taken her to the hospital that made her angry. No matter how much she had wanted to deny it -- she had needed a doctor. It was that he had done it without any respect for her wishes. He didn't take her to the hospital because *she* needed to go; he took her because *he* needed her to go. If she stopped being angry at him for long enough she knew she would realize that she was being irrational, but if she stopped being angry she would have time to think about what had almost happened. It was easier being angry. They reached the door to the room that would be hers. Scully rested against the door frame and watched Mulder open the door. She had an idea of how guilty she was making him feel -- his teeth had been working over-time on his bottom lip since she woke up in the hospital. Mulder set their bags inside the room and held out his hand to help her inside. Scully slowly crossed the threshold, ignoring Mulder's offering of assistance. She stepped past him and sat down on the bed, her muscles screaming at the exertion from just the short walk. She watched Mulder step into the bathroom and retrieve a towel. She took it and tried to dry her hair and blot some of the excess water from Mulder's sweatshirt, which she still wore. Mulder moved about the room, lighting a candle and setting it on the bed-side table. She turned her head when she no longer heard his movements. Mulder was standing next to the bed, silent. After a moment, he lifted his hands to his hips and walked to stand in front of her. "You would have done the same thing," he insisted. "If the situation had been reversed, you would have done the same thing. I had to know that you were going to be all right." She sighed, closing her eyes. She didn't want to fight with him. After everything they had been through -- she didn't want to fight with him. She let out a long deep breath, letting her anger travel from her with it. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. "You're right. I would have done the same thing," she admitted. "You were right to take me to the hospital. He watched her for a moment -- things with Scully usually weren't this easy. He nodded his assertion. "Mulder?" Scully glanced around the room and toward his bag. "If you just checked us into the motel, where did you sleep last night?" "The chair outside your hospital room," he answered shyly. It was her turn to be silent at his admission. "Scully, you're supposed to be resting. I can tell the medication is making you tired." "I need to take a shower," she decided, thinking out loud. Scully tried to stand. It was on her second failed attempt that she felt his hand on her arm helping her off the bed. "Thanks," she muttered, angry at herself for being so weak. Unsteady in her movements, Scully felt Mulder's hand remain on her arm. "Mulder, you're hovering," she accused, the bitterness toward her own weakness suddenly misdirected at him. She regretted her words the instant she looked into his eyes. Mulder looked down at her, his feelings in turmoil. Frustration and anger took momentary control of his demeanor. He abruptly released her arm and turned his back on her. "I watched you die," he began softly. "I watched you die and there was nothing I could do about it. I had to watch him hurt you...again...and again...and again." His voice grew in intensity and volume but his words were broken. He turned to face her then, his eyes wet with unshed tears but also full of animosity at her for not understanding that he needed to be the one to take care of her now. "Excuse the fuck out of me if I hover!" The air was charged with intensity. Tension that broke only when Mulder brought his hands to his face and hung his head filled the room. "I'm sorry, Scully. So sorry," he muttered through his fingers as he shook his head in remorse for yelling at her. She reached out to him and laced her fingers with his, pulling his hand away from his face. "It's ok, Mulder. I'm going to be fine. It's over. It's all over." He pulled her into his arms and hugged her close to him. He held her and felt her arms circle his waist. It was over. Suddenly, all the energy drained from his body and he was over come with what he might have lost. "I don't know what I would have done," he said stumbling over the words. "I can't imagine life..." Scully pulled away from him. Reaching up, she placed her hand behind his neck and pulled his head down so that she could kiss his forehead. "Don't imagine," she whispered against his skin. She tangled her hand in his hair and he rested his head on her shoulder. They stood like that for several minutes before she pulled away from him. "Mulder, I'm so tired. We both need to get into some dry clothes and get some sleep." Mulder nodded his head, tucking a stray piece of her hair behind her ear. "But first, I need to take a shower. Could you please put my bag in the bathroom?" He squeezed her hand and picked up her bag from the floor. He took the bag and another candle into the bathroom for her. She kicked her shoes off her feet, balancing by holding onto a nearby chair. She walked as quickly as her battered body would allow her toward the bathroom. Mulder stepped out into the room. "Call me if you need anything." "Thank you," she replied honestly, smiling at him as she walked into the bathroom. She closed the door behind her. Mulder turned down the blankets on her bed and unlocked her side of the adjoining doors. He picked up his bag and went back out into the rain. Using his key, he let himself into his room, identical to hers. Throwing his bag on the bed, he immediately unlocked his door adjoining her room. He opened both doors and began stripping off his own wet clothing. When all of his clothes, except his boxers, lay in a wet heap on the floor, he unzipped his bag and removed his running shorts, a t-shirt and another pair of boxers. "Mulder?" Her voice was muffled by the closed door but his senses were instantly aware of her. He quickly crossed the distance to the door of her bathroom. "Scully?" "Mulder...I need your help." Her voice sounded small and he didn't hesitate to open the door. The only light in the room came from the candle he had placed on the sink. Scully was sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, her clothes in a pile on the floor. The candle light was soft on her skin. Mulder's eyes traveled over her, checking to see if she were injured. She still wore the white bra and a pair of blue panties. A towel was laying across her lap. Her eyes were cast down towards her feet. "Scully?" His voice was soft, unsure of what she needed. "There's only a shower," she explained quietly, gesturing toward the shower stall in distress. "I thought if there was a bath tub, I would be able to sit down, but there isn't. I don't think I'm strong enough to..." Her voice faded and he watched her shoulders rise as she took a breath to muster up her courage. "Could you help me?" She asked in one quick rush, raising her head to look him in the eye. His heart went out to her, knowing how hard it had been for her to ask him for help. Her eyes returned to the floor and he knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his. "Scully, why don't you wait until you're stronger? Come on, I'll help you get into bed." Her eyes flew to his, her head shaking in refusal. "I can still feel him, Mulder." Her voice was soft yet urgent. "I can still feel his fingers on my throat. I can feel his hand in my hair, his breath on my cheek and the back of my neck. I have to wash that feeling away. I have to wash him off of me. Will you help me?" She asked him again and he was nodding in agreement before she had even finished the plea. "What do you want me to do?" "Can you stand next to the shower and make sure I don't fall?" "I can do that." Mulder stood and helped her to her feet. Once standing, Scully took a step toward the shower, but her knee buckled and she sagged into Mulder's arms. "Scully..." he began to try to talk her into resting again, but he saw the determination in her eyes. There was only one thing to do when Scully got that look in her eye -- go along with whatever she wanted. He kept one arm wrapped tightly around her waist and reached the other into the shower, turned on the water and adjusted the temperature. When he was satisfied that the water wouldn't burn her, he helped her step inside the shower stall -- then he stepped inside with her. "Mulder?" She questioned, surprised. "Hey, a little more water isn't going to hurt me." Mulder slid the shower door closed. "Hang onto the bar. I won't let you fall." Mulder instructed. Scully reached out and took the bar. Mulder moved the shower head so that the water sprayed down her body. "Too hot?" He asked concerned. "No, it's perfect." He watched the water slide over her skin, rippling over her flesh. This was a bad idea. He shook his head, he could do this. He could do this for her. He reached out and grabbed the shampoo she had already placed in the shower. He squirted some into his hand -- he smiled -- it smelled like her. "Tip your head back." Scully did as she was told, gripping the bar tightly. The water wove its way through her hair and ran in a hot stream down her back. She closed her eyes as Mulder's hands touched her hair. Gently he spread the shampoo through the auburn strands and tenderly massaged the scented lather over her hair. Stroking in small circles he used his fingertips to cover every inch of her scalp. Stray bubbles began to slide down her forehead and she shut her eyes tightly. "Sorry," she heard him mutter before she felt a wash cloth wipe the suds away. The water hit her full force again and the bubbles tickled their way down her shoulders and legs. When all the shampoo had been rinsed from her hair, Mulder's attention moved elsewhere. He grabbed the bar of soap from the shower's ledge and lathered up the wash cloth and his hands. His fingers touched her silken, wet skin. A tear slipped from her eye when she realized what he was doing. His fingers danced tenderly across her throat. Gently scrubbing away past impressions of evil, he continued up to her cheek...caressing... washing. His hands moved to her back, stopping sharply when he saw how Rupert had marked her. Delicately he traced his fingers around the burnt flesh on her back, marking where the electrodes had been. Anger coursed through him faster than the water could pour from the spout. Careful to keep his touch soft, Mulder continued soaping her arms, her stomach and her back, paying special attention to the areas he had seen Rupert touch her. The only touch he wanted her body to remember and know was his. He noticed her arms straining from holding herself up. He rinsed her body of the soap and stepped in between her and the shower spray. He turned the water off, but only after he directed a blast of ice cold water to hit him in the chest and run down his body. He again secured his arm around her waist and helped her from the shower. He dried her hair and wrapped the towel around her before she could catch a chill. Scully sat on the toilet seat and pulled her bag next to her. "Get dressed and yell for me when you need me to come and get you." Mulder closed the bathroom door behind him. Quickly he toweled himself off and dressed in his own room. Opening the door back into her room, he saw her sitting on the bed, dressed in her favorite silk pajamas. "Hey," he smiled at her. "Ready to go to sleep?" "Past ready," she yawned. Scully slipped under the blankets and rested her head on the pillow. She listened to Mulder blow out the candle and walked back toward his room. Her eyes flew open and she sat up, still not strong enough to watch him go. "Mulder?" "I'm just blowing out the candle in my room, Scully. I'll be right back," he promised. Finally feeling safe, Scully turned on her side and closed her eyes. She heard him come back into the room and pull an easy chair closer to the bed. "Mulder," she said, her voice somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. "You slept in a chair last night because of me. If I'm going to make you sleep in my room, at least I can share the bed." She stayed awake only long enough to feel his weight settle next to her. Mulder woke once during the night, the muffled sounds of her cries coming from the other side of the bed. He pulled her to him and tucked her in his arms. She quieted almost instantly, and he drifted back to sleep. Scully slept soundly through the rest of the night in Mulder's arms. For the first time in many nights of sleepless hours, Mulder also slept unscathed by familiar nightmares. She woke intermittently during the day. Each time she opened her eyes, she saw Mulder. He brought her medication, helped her from the bed to the bathroom, and sat with her. That meant the most to her -- whether she was awake for five minutes or forty-five minutes, as soon as she opened her eyes, he would come and sit next to her on the bed and talk to her. The conversation was light, but the sentiment was immeasurable. If she wasn't careful she was going to be forced to admit that she liked it when Mulder hovered. The last time she roused Mulder had been waiting for her with a hot cup of take out chicken noodle soup. Each time she drifted from sleep she was a bit stronger. This time was proving to be no different. Scully lay in bed quietly, not ready to open her eyes yet. She stretched her body lazily, pleased to find that she didn't ache in as many places as she had before. She heard Mulder at the table next to her. Sheriff Monroe had dropped off the car in the afternoon, as promised, and Mulder had started writing up their report on her lap top. She smiled at his primitive style of typing, the irregular tap on the keys a testament that she usually wrote up the reports. She fell back into the warmth of sleep knowing that Mulder was close. The room was dark when she woke again, silent. She looked around and realized that she was alone. The door to Mulder's room was open a crack and shadowed light filtered onto the carpet of her room. Carefully she sat up in bed, prepared for the pain that thankfully never came. She swung her legs over the side of the bed. Putting weight on her feet, she stood up. A little unsteady at first, she quickly gained her balance. She walked toward the light in Mulder's room. She could see him through the crack in the door. He was stretched out on the bed, files spread out all around him, glasses perched on his nose. He looked deeply engrossed in the particular file he held on his lap. Though Scully pushed lightly on the door, a loud creak announced her presence. Mulder looked up from the file and smiled when he saw her. "Finding us everything interesting?" She asked, looking from his eyes down to the file he held in his hand. "A couple of ritual masses in New England, dancing naked under the full moon -- it's that time of year," he shrugged. "Naked under a haunted moon," she corrected. "Haunted moon," he nodded, smiling. "Do you need anything?" He asked, setting the file on the bedside table and placing his glasses on top of the file. "I just woke up and you weren't there," she explained. "I didn't want the light to wake you. How are you feeling?" "Better, but I still feel like I could sleep for a month," she admitted. "I was about ready to turn the light off myself." Mulder yawned. "Oh, all right. I'll see you in the morning." Scully said turning to go back to her room. "Goodnight." Mulder called to her, turning off the bedside light. The darkness of the two rooms engulfed her. Scully hesitated and then stepped back into Mulder's room. "Mulder?" "Yes," he answered, curious. "Nevermind...Goodnight." Scully walked back to her bed, damning herself as she climbed under the blankets and sank back into the pillow. She knew all she had to do was ask him, yet she couldn't. The memory of all the nights she suffered alone visited her as if they were ghosts of the past. It was her turn, her move, and after everything they had just been through, she couldn't understand what was stopping her. Mulder stared through the darkness at the door she had just exited. An inner battle was raging between his heart and his head. His gut won again and he threw the blankets off the bed and stood up. He had followed her out into that hallway, he could damn well follow her now. He found himself hoping the outcome this time would be more satisfying. He quietly walked from his room into hers. Striding across the floor, he climbed into bed next to her. "I thought I would sleep better over here," he explained, hoping he read her hesitation correctly. "I think we'll both sleep better," she whispered, thanking him. Scully lay perfectly still in the dark. The dark. Darkness covers a multitude of sins -- she said that to Mulder once. In horror movies, darkness summons the creatures of the night. In literature, it sometimes represents evil. Tonight, the darkness was giving her the courage she needed. Mulder heard her hand sliding over the sheets. He reached out and took it. "Mulder, I have a confession to make," she admitted solemnly, her voice filling the room. "You're a really big fan of the ice capades and you've just been afraid to tell me?" He joked insecurely. Scully was silent, unsure of whether or not to continue. His hand squeezed hers in a silent apology. "What's your confession?" He asked her softly. "When OPR transferred me to Salt Lake City, and I resigned...do you know why I did that?" "You were tired of the red-tape bullshit?" "That's what I told Skinner. That's what I told you. I think when I said it even I believed that was the reason. I've had time to think about it since then." "Why did you quit, Scully?" "When I was re-assigned, I quit because I couldn't leave you. If I quit the bureau, I could stay in DC and I would be near you." Mulder rewarded her courage by bringing her hand to his lips, kissing the back softly. She wasn't done. "That day in the hallway, you told me that I made you a whole person. I can do that Mulder, because I wasn't a whole person until I met you. We make each other whole." Her voice was strong and steady. "I think that's why it's taken me so long to tell you. I fought against the idea that I needed you. I didn't want to need you. I didn't want to *need* anyone. I can't fight it anymore. I do need you, Mulder. You told me that you loved me. I wasn't strong enough to tell you then, but I am now. I love you too." Mulder rolled onto his side, facing her. Scully reached out with her hand and stroked his face. Tears sprang to her eyes when she found his cheek wet with emotion. "When I was strapped to the table, when Rupert played that video tape of you holding me," Scully's voice began to break and Mulder's lips pressed against the inside of her palm. "I knew that was what I wanted. I knew that if I died that would be what I missed. I don't want to miss anything anymore, Mulder." The tears were flowing freely from her eyes when Mulder pulled her into his arms. He tenderly stroked her forehead and her cheeks with the softness of his lips. He held her tightly while she gave into the sorrow that had built up over the last three days. She let go of the pain Rupert had caused her, finally feeling strong enough to face the hurt. Mulder urged her to cry, to sob until she couldn't anymore. He whispered words of truth - words of love- softly into her ear. Gradually her sobs turned to gasps and finally to hiccups, until she was able to breath normally again. Mulder rolled onto his back, still cradling Scully in his arms. She rested her head on his chest as he rhythmically ran his hand up and down her back, soothing her into sleep. "You sleep," he quietly whispered, rubbing her back. "I do love you," she pledged softly. "And I love you," he breathed. Soon her breathing slowed to a deep even rhythm. He still held her, his heart swelling with her words. Insecurity creeped into his joy, only to be pushed firmly away. She believed in him. She had stood by him for five years. She loved him. Peacefully, Mulder fell asleep holding Scully in his arms, knowing that she loved him. --- --- Fox Mulder was dreaming. But unlike the usual images that haunted his sleep, this dream he wanted to cling to -- until it became a reality. The feminine smile was enticing, teasing, familiar. The woman moved close, then backed away. She appeared again as if in a fog, near once more, her hair of flame curling around his fingers. Sliding his hand from her hair and letting it drift down the length of her, he stopped when he felt silken skin beneath his fingertips. Then he heard a feminine moan of pleasure. It lasted only a moment. Hovering between sleep and wakefulness, Mulder pulled himself far enough away from the dreamy haze to know where he was, and who was beside him. Again, he glided his hand down the smoothness that he recognized had been Scully's thigh, and with lazy pleasure, ran his fingers up it again. And again, she sighed with the sound of desire. "Scully?" He murmured. Scully didn't want to answer and end the fantasy she'd been drifting under. Until this moment, she'd been able to keep her eyes closed. Needs she had ignored, fantasies that she had never admitted to, desire that she had never allowed bombarded her, promising to shatter her senses. Deep inside her, a curl of something dangerous began to unwind. A white-hot thread of awareness began to uncoil in the pit of her stomach. Scully opened her eyes and looked up into the windows of the soul that seemed intent on devouring her. "Mulder," she began, her voice breathless with need. "I think..." "Shh..." Mulder's fingers gently, provocatively, stroked her lips. "Don't think." Her heartbeat staggered, stopped, then started again. This time for all the right reasons. She held her breath as he bent his head toward hers. Finally. A kiss. His mouth on hers. No interruptions. Finally. The moment his lips met hers, she knew. This wasn't just a kiss. This was an invasion. His mouth came down on hers with a raw hunger she had never experienced before. Brilliant light exploded within her in a sunburst of color and sensation. He did not seek to slowly seduce - there was nothing leisurely about his kiss. His lips took and consumed hers, ravaged them. He did not seek a subtle entry to her mouth. Instead, his tongue plunged between her lips and teeth and demanded the sweetness he knew he would find there. Their lips met again and again, open-mouthed, in hungry, wet kisses. Kisses that melded their lips and their bodies. Kisses that brought the searing heat from their lips to burn deep into the heart of their unleashed passion and spread throughout the rest of their bodies. His lips trailed from hers to touch her earlobes and her cheeks, to rest against her pulse and travel onward along the length of her collarbone. The things he did with his tongue... Unwilling to relinquish his lips to the rest of her body quite yet she guided him back to her mouth. She returned his kiss, eager for it, met the fever of his pace, gasped and sought him again and again when he broke away to circle her lips erotically, slowly, with the rim of his tongue. She shivered slightly, for when his mouth did not touch her, she was cold. She shivered in his arms and he knew the coolness of the air had nothing to do with the chills wracking her. He felt it too. The sense of rightness. The sense of belonging. For the first time in a long, lonely life, he felt loved. He would make sure that she too felt loved. Her touch sent daggers of heat slicing through him, illuminating the dark corners of his soul like the light from a thousand suns. Reaching for her, he enfolded her in his arms, pulling her tightly to him. Her tender flesh molded to his. He realized how well she fit in the circle of his arms. She made him whole. She had always made him whole. As if she had been made for him. He knew that just as certainly he had been made for her. His breath came harsh and fast. Anticipation threatened to strangle him. Life was precious and rare. It could be snatched away at a moment's notice, snuffed out in a heartbeat. She wanted to feel she was alive, and Mulder sensed that as well, and gave her access to his body. He held nothing back. Time and reality fell away. His kisses became deeper, more demanding. He used his hands and his mouth to give her what she wanted, what she needed. Heat. Passion. Life. Continuity. Love. She opened her mouth to him and took his breath as her own. Her breathing shallow and fast, Scully snaked her hand beneath his t-shirt and stroked her palm down his chest and watched his eyes fill with want. He looked at her, hunger etched into his features, but hints of hesitation still in his eyes. Apparently he was waiting, giving her the opportunity to change her mind if she wanted to. She felt him pull away, put a little physical distance between them. "How do you feel?" Scully reached out her hand and cupped his face. His eyes had become speckled with doubt. She sighed. Only Mulder. Only her Mulder could let his own self-doubt overshadow the inevitability of this moment. "Like I'll explode if you stop touching me. Touch me, Mulder," she urged softly, urgently. She watched the emotion in his eyes shift and change, darkening with the passion they had been denied for years. Mulder wrapped his arms around her waist and held on as if it meant the difference between living and dying. His lips took hers. His tongue darted in and out of her mouth, making breathing impossible and stirring her senses so that she didn't even mind. She felt his kiss and his need down to her soul. At last, they were willing to explore the magic that happened between them whenever they were close. Her body burned with desire. Her flesh tingled from his caresses and a damp, aching heat settled between her thighs. A hunger rose up between them that demanded to be fed. Gasping for breath in between long, deliberate kisses, they stripped each other of their clothing. His body throbbed and ached to become a part of her. Everything within him screamed at him to take her. He knew that she too felt the almost overpowering desire to become one. He had never known such need. His groin tightened. His lungs shuddered, barely able to draw enough breath. He hungered for her. Deep in his soul, he recognized that the had been waiting for this woman his entire life. In one dark corner of her mind, she realized that she was spinning out of control, but she didn't care. She wanted to be closer to him. To feel his lean, muscled form pressed to her. He grabbed her again and pulled her tight against him. Flesh to flesh, heat to heat, the fire already raging between them burst into an inferno of passion. She had thought that his kiss could sooth the ache within her and help extinguish the blaze that had been burning in her for so very long. Now it seared a trail so hot that it denied her all thought. All she knew was longing. Her soul was on fire, her body was on fire. She wanted to touch him, to run her fingers over the breadth of his shoulders, to press her lips against his chest. Most of all, she wanted to appease the longing inside her. She wanted the emptiness to be filled. Hungrily he feasted upon her body. The brush of his fingers and the warmth of his tongue raged over the mounds of her breasts, explored contours of creamy skin, and set fire to the pebble-like peaks of rouge and crimson that tautened instantly at his touch. Hungrily she tasted him in turn, pressing her lips to his shoulders, his throat, and softly, wetly, drew patterns down the muscles of his chest. Her insides twisted, jumbled into a quivering mass of need as he teased his mouth slowly down her body. Down past her breasts, trailing over her stomach and stopping between her thighs. Scully's fingers curled into the cotton blanket beneath her. Mouth dry, breath coming in short, jagged gasps, she watched, entranced, as Mulder bent his head and took her with his mouth. At the first touch of his tongue, Scully gasped aloud and jerked in his arms. He didn't stop. His breath brushed against her skin, his lips danced over the soft, delicate folds of her center as his tongue moved in strong strokes across the heart of her sex. Twisting and writhing in his strong grasp, there was no escape, even if she wanted one. She whispered his name brokenly, hardly daring to draw a breath. His mouth tormented and delighted her. His hands invaded and adored. She drifted helplessly, reaching for the peace she knew waited for her at the end of this exquisite agony. And though she wanted -- needed -- the climax hurtling toward her, she didn't want his ministrations to end. Forcing herself to look at him, Scully stared through lust-glazed eyes at the man caressing her so intimately. Clearly sensing her gaze on him, Mulder lifted his head, abandoning her briefly, as if to let her see the full measure of love shining in his eyes. Her heart filled with him and beat strongly against her chest. She drew a long, shaky breath. He dipped his head once more and when his mouth covered her, the night splintered around her. Her world rocked, tipped on its side and threatened to send her crashing over the edge. But she was held, safe in the arms of the man she had loved for years. Before the last ribbon of satisfaction unwound inside of her, Mulder returned to her mouth. Her lips parted for him and her tongue met his stroke for stroke. In a wild, desperate joining, their mouths mated, breath mingling, tongues exploring, caressing movements meant to sooth yet at the same time enflame. Pulling away, Scully, with Mulder's help, rolled him onto his back and straddled his waist. The look in her eyes brought a smile of anticipation to his lips. It was Scully's turn to play. He felt her fingers upon his naked flesh and marveled at the touch, shuddering as the hot fires of desire snaked through him. In the days to come, he would remember this night, remember it with aching poignancy, and he would tremble anew, thinking of all that he held in his arms. For in all the years when they had watched each other and waited, he had never imagined this. She had said that she loved him. And in that, he had never known a feeling more exquisite, never known a power so great. She was sensual, intelligent, elegant, and beautiful. In his life, he had never seen himself as worthy the love she gave him. She stroked his chest, her fingers playing down his ribs. She nibbled against his lower lip, then rose to meet him in a wild and sweet open-mouthed kiss that drove almost all his demons from him. And still she loved and teased and taunted him with tender kisses upon his skin, exotic, erotic, decadent kisses. Moving lower and lower against him, she touched the pulsing fullness of his sex with her mouth. Lightly at first, with kisses that were so soft that they tormented him nearly to hell -- or was it heaven. He reached out to her, unable to bear the bursting sensation, when suddenly she closed her lips hard around him, and in all his life he had never felt so searing an explosion of pure want. The wanting within his eyes touched her as no aphrodisiac could. Mulder sat up in bed, his arms grasping for her, his mouth needing her. She met him, leaned against him and felt his body, hard and eager. Desperately, hungrily, his tongue moved in and out of her mouth, touching, tasting. He held her mouth with his as if trying to claim her for his own. She met his urgency with a wild, overwhelming passion that threatened to leave her puddled on the bed. When he finally tore his mouth from hers, Scully moaned at the loss. There were words at last, words that touched her flesh in hot whispers. They told her that she was beautiful. They told her that she belonged to him. Words of love...and words of raw hunger. "Now Mulder," she pleaded in an agonized whisper. "Hurry. I have to feel you inside me, Mulder. I need..." Her voice faded into silence. How could she possibly explain what she needed when she hardly understood it herself? This was more than desire. More than lust. Something within her was clamoring to be a part of him. To feel him slide his body into hers. She had never known such want. Suddenly he was atop her, his arms around her. His eyes upon her, he held himself above her. Mulder gently pushed his body into hers. With deep, long, hard strokes, he claimed her; driving her into a mad rush toward an orgasm even more fulfilling than the last. A cry welled up within her, touched her lips, but never escaped her. Scully's fingers dug into his shoulders. Her head tipped back. She wrapped her legs around his hips, crossing her feet at the ankles, pulling him harder, more closely to her. Each thrust stroked something deep within her, something she hadn't even known existed. She buried her face against his throat, pulling tighter and tighter against him. Arching. Twisting. Feeling him with all her length, inside and out. He was moving much too slow, torturously slow, pressing her back and watching her eyes as he moved against her, seeming to burn inside her until he touched her womb, her heart, her very soul. She hungered, she wanted, she ached. The sweetness, the ecstasy filled her until she thought she would die with it, that she must explode. And then, he was nearly still, rigid, taut. He teased her so slowly, then with startling speed he filled all of her again. He withdrew and filled her once again, hard. Again, she almost cried out. But his lips were there, and he kissed her, his tongue ravishing her mouth to steal sound away. While the pulsing shaft of his body moved as hard and hot as molten steel deep into her, one long, slow stroke -- sinking -- staying there. He held perfectly still, buried deep inside her, fighting for control. An explosive climax was only a breath away and he would be damned if he would give into the pleasure before she was ready to take that leap with him. In the space of a few heartbeats, he was able to move within her again. And then there was nothing but the overpowering, driving urge to brand her as his. To fill her so deeply, so completely, that even when they weren't together, he would still be a part of her, as she was a part of him. Mulder looked down into her blue eyes and saw the stunned wonder he knew was written on his own features. He pressed his mouth to hers and their bodies raced toward completion. He swallowed her cries when they were at last swept over the edge of passion and fell tumbling into peace as he poured all that he was into her waiting warmth. Mulder groaned again as he pulled her into the circle of his arms. He lowered his mouth to hers like a dying man seeking salvation. No point in denying the truth to himself. He loved her. He wanted her. He needed her. Hours blurred together. The rest of the night passed in a flurry of lovemaking that only seemed to feed the fires burning between them. Everytime Mulder thought he was exhausted and beyond experiencing any more, Scully showed him differently. Exhaustion claimed them just before sunrise. Scully curled up next to Mulder and rested her head on his chest. Before the steady rhythm of his heartbeat could lull her into sleep, she heard him whisper her name. "Scully?" "Yes," she answered sleepily. "Promise me something?" "If I can," she answered honestly. "Promise me that the next time there's a haunted moon," he kissed the top of her head. "You and I will lock ourselves inside and spend the night like this." "I promise." Mulder heard the smile in her voice and he wrapped his arms more tightly around her. As the sun rose outside, the lovers fell asleep in each other's arms. Safe. Together -- for together they were complete -- they were whole. The end