Title : Then What of Our Nightmares? 3/3
Author : Kelly Moreland
Archive :Anywhere, just let me know.
Spoilers : Tiny ones for Amor Fati, FTF, Chinga
Rating : NC-17 for some disturbing images and adult content
Category : S Angst/MT/MSR
Summary : Post colonization. It's less grim, but beware.
Feedback : is what keeps me writing. k_a_moreland@hotmail.com
Disclaimer : In the big inning, CC created M & S, and the fans
saw that it was good. Then CC proclaimed 'Let them have any fun,
and I will sue you!' And the fans saw that this was bad, and did
it anyway! ;-)
Authors note : Thanks to Jade and Jemirah for all their help. 
SPECIAL NOTE AT END!!

And if sometimes dreams come true, then what of our nightmares?



Then What of Our Nightmares?
by Kelly Moreland


The exam was a trial for both of us. I know that with as much as
he'd been through, being poked and prodded--even by me--was
horrifying.

I found he was anemic, which I'd suspected. I had iron
supplements for that. His electrolytes were way out of balance,
he had some internal parasites. All these could be remedied with
medication, and time.

There were some abnormalities in his blood, that I couldn't quite
figure out with the simple equipment I had. Residue from the
injections they'd given him, no doubt. Possible side effects of
them, I had no way of knowing.


The physical exam was the worst part.

I'd seen him naked that first day, but I was so relieved to see
him at all, that I missed a lot of things.

There was a small ridge on his right side, over the fourth rib.
It had been broken, and healed slightly out of alignment.

The pinky and ring finger on his right hand could be re-broken
and reset, at some point in the future. But it was out of the
question for now. He wouldn't be able to cope with it. Neither
could I.

The scars that covered his arms and back were burns. High voltage
burns, like from a powerful tazer. Just as he said. A few of them
were badly healed cuts, that should have been stitched.

He'd told me about the experiments, but he hadn't said who had
beaten him so brutally. I'm not sure I wanted to know anyway.

He was laying flat on the examination table shivering and it
wasn't from the temperature in the room. I knew he was scared. I
couldn't blame him for it.

I looked at the two scars he'd told me about the night before.
One on each side of his scrotum. They were slightly crescent
shaped, about two inches long. They looked a lot like a
vasectomy. A very badly done vasectomy. He cringed every time I
touched him, so I finally just gave up. This wasn't exactly life
threatening, and I couldn't stand the way it affected him.

He relaxed a little after he was dressed, but now he wouldn't
meet my eyes again.

"Are you all right?" I asked him, careful not to stand too close,
nor too far away. After his outburst last night I was treading a
fine line.

"Yeah. I'm just tired." He ran his hand through his hair, and
faced me, but kept his eyes downcast.
"So? What did you find?"
"You aren't that bad off, actually. We'll have you back in shape
soon."
"Cut the crap, Scully." His eyes were hard when they finally met
mine.
"I'm not giving you any crap, Mulder."
"I'm a goddamn walking nightmare, and we both know it!" He yelled
at me.
"You'll get better. You'll gain weight..." I sighed as he stormed
past me. No sense wasting my breath.

I hung my head. It'll pass, I told myself.

"Problem?" Skinner asked, standing in the doorway.
"Welcome to emotional outburst 101." I forced a smile
that he didn't buy for a minute.
"What do we do for him?" He had obviously seen Mulder's grand
exit.
"Just give him time. It's all we can do. This kind of thing is
common after violent trauma."
"How many times has he bitten your head off like that?"
"A couple. I expect it to get worse. He has to come to terms with
everything. I just can't get him to open up enough yet."
"Maybe some outside interference might help?"
"I don't know. He's unpredictable, he's just.." He cut me off.

"He's clinging to you. He wants you there, so you are. He pushes
you away, and you let him." I couldn't argue his point.
"He's playing you like a violin, Dana. He may not even realize
he's doing it."
"What do you suggest?"
"Get in his face! In two years I haven't seen you back down from
anything. Except this. Reality is harsh now, and he needs to face
it."

"He's been through a lot..." I was interrupted again.
"And you haven't? I've seen you fight. I've seen you kill. I've
seen you shot twice. I set your arm after the dust-up in
Lexington, while you stayed calm and told me how to do it right.
I've watched you wade through bodies, trying to decide who you
can save and who is a lost cause. We've all been through a lot."
His words were hard and truthful.

"But we've been through it together. He's been isolated."
"And he's staying isolated, because you let him. It's been almost
a week. How much longer do you plan on hiding him?"
He was pissing me off, mostly because he was right.
"I can't make him well overnight! It's going to take a while."
"How long it takes might be up to you, more than him."
I sighed in exasperation, as he walked away.

Maybe he had a point.

I left Mulder alone for a while. I didn't go right back to our
room to check on him. Instead, I put on my coat and went outside.
The walk did wonders to clear my head.

Skinner was a hard-nosed son of a bitch, but he wasn't a cruel
person. He just had a brutal way of stating the facts.

I decided to give it a try.


I walked back into our room about an hour later, and Mulder was
pacing the floor.

"Where have you been?" His accusatory tone was the last thing I
needed to hear right then.
"I went for a walk. You should try it, fresh air would do you
good."
"I don't want to go outside." He sounded petulant.
"I've noticed that. In fact, you don't even like going outside
this room." My voice took on the 'don't screw with me' tone.
"So?" He plopped down on his bed and stared at me.
"So?" I took Skinner's advice to heart, and literally got in his
face. I know he meant it figuratively, but I was fed up.

I leaned down, crowding him.

"What is with this self pitying, bullshit routine?"
He stared at me in surprise.
"You've been locked in here," I tapped his forehead. "More than
you've been locked in this room. The people that love you most
are here, and you won't even speak to them."
"I can't face them right now!" His shout was deafening.
"Why not?" I yelled back.
"Because I can't!" We were nose to nose now.
"Because you _won't_!"
He didn't answer me. He just sat there, breathing hard and
staring at me. I didn't back down this time. I didn't reach to
calm him. I wanted to, but I wouldn't let myself.
"You don't understand." He looked away from me, his face still
storming.
"Then make me."

His knees drew up to his chest, and he rested his chin on them.
"I know who they are. I just don't know who I am anymore. I don't
know what I am, or where I fit into anything." His voice had
softened again, but still had a bitter edge.

"I can tell you who you are. You are the strongest person I have
ever known. You are the one who never gave up. Who always looked
for the answers and found them. You were the one man who
believed that he could fight the future. You made the rest of us
believe it too. That's what we've been doing. What you would have
done. We need you Mulder. We can do this without you, but we
could do it a hell of a lot better with you. But you have to
crawl out from under this self-imposed rock, first. And none of
us can do that for you."

His eyes snapped back to me. I had his full attention.

"You told me once that I kept you honest, that I was your
touchstone. I took that to mean I was your center. If you don't
know who you are, or where you belong, I'll show you the way."

His anger passed, as suddenly as it flared up.

He leaned toward me, pressing his forehead against my own.

"I look and feel like a freak." He whispered.
"You aren't. You're sick, I know how you hate that. You always
have. But you are not a freak."
"I guess I need to talk to them, huh?"
"You have to at least try." I agreed.
"They are going to ask a lot of questions that I don't want to
answer."
"No they won't. They are your friends, they'll understand."
"I need you with me."
I chuckled, "Just try to keep me out."


When I told the guys that Mulder wanted to talk to them, you'd
have thought I announced free beer night at Hooters.

"If he hedges a question, don't push. What he's told me would
make all of you shrivel. There are things he just isn't ready to
talk about. We all have things like that. And don't mention how
he looks. He's seriously hung up on it right now."

"Is the lecture over yet, Scully?" Frohike asked with his usual
charm.
"I just don't want anything to go wrong." I explained.
"Trust us, Dana." Skinner said, leaning against the wall, his
hands in his pockets.
"I do. I'm just worried."

It was tense at first, but it went well. Langly, God bless him,
acted like nothing had changed. Like a day had not passed since
he last saw Mulder. I think that helped a lot. It broke the ice.

We sat around the table in our room after dinner, and talked for
hours.

Skinner filled Mulder in the resistance movement, and how wide
spread it really was. We are the Eastern division. We have a
Northern, Western, and Mid-West divisions as well. We are more
than two thousand strong.

He, in turn, told us what he information he had, most of which we
already knew. We were making an impact. A hard one. The facility
here had a skeleton crew, when we took it. Most of them cleared
out and moved to other locations just before we arrived, he
didn't know where though.

It did a lot for him. More than I had hoped.

Byers said something just before he left, that I could have
kissed him for.

"It was great to find you Mulder. But it's even better now that
*you* are back."

He shook his hand, and left. He was the last one to go.

"Not that bad, was it?" I asked him.
"No. I'm glad you kicked my ass today. I needed it."
"I know. Kicking your ass in one form or another has become a
very fulfilling occupation."
He stretched out on his bed and grinned at me.
"You play rough Scully. You know that?"
"You think this is rough? Wait till you see what I've got lined
up for you tomorrow."
He groaned, "Do I want to know?"
"Probably not."
He propped up on his elbows.
"Lay it on me." The banter was great, it restored a lot of faith
for me. He was coming back. Slowly, cautiously, but surely.
"Physical therapy." I smiled broadly.
"Sadist." He pouted at me. I'd missed that pathetic little pout.
"Whine, whine, whine."



The change over the next week was remarkable. He walked with me
everyday. He didn't even complain that much. After the first few
days, he even looked forward to it.

Frohike, Langly, and Byers kept him company a lot.

Langly told him that the Internet was one of our main forms of
communication with the other divisions, and they spent one
entire afternoon checking in with the other groups, relaying
leads and information.

Near the end of the week, I sat outside enjoying unseasonably
warm weather, while he and Skinner shot hoops using a backboard
nailed to a tree. It tired him out, but he loved it.

His moods were still a little off-kilter. He would get dark and
quiet sometimes. There were still things that clawed at him from
the recesses of his mind. Things he still wouldn't talk about.
Not even to me.



I was startled awake one night, with someone standing over me. I
grabbed for my pistol, just as he spoke.

"Scully. It's me."
"Jesus Mulder. Don't do that." I laughed shakily.
"Move over." He whispered.
I knew something was wrong. I slid over in the narrow bed, and he
crawled in beside me.
"What's wrong?" I could feel him shaking.
"Just bad memories." I put my arm around him, and gasped.
"Mulder, you're freezing! What is it? What happened?"
"No. Not now. Please. Just hold me." He sounded tired, ragged.
"It's ok. Just relax, it's all right." I rubbed his arms to warm
them, as I spoke. He felt like ice.

He curled up facing me. His head on the pillow next to my own.
His hand reached up and stroked my cheek. I took it in mine,
kissed his palm, then pressed it to my cheek again.
"When will I be able to travel?" It was something he'd never
asked before.
"Soon I think. Maybe another week, why?"
"I want to put this place behind me. To forget all of this."
"Tell me what happened."
"I want to, but I can't." He shook his head.
"How can I help?"
"I don't think you can on this one. Some things I have to handle
alone."
"Where ever you are my heart is with you. You're never alone
Mulder." I whispered to him.

He raised up and kissed me. It was soft and tender at first, then
deepened to become more hungry, more powerful. His tongue slipped
inside of my mouth, seeking my own. He tasted bitter sweet, and I
savored it.

I felt his hand, feather light against the side of my breast. His
thumb brushed across my nipple and I shivered. My hands ran
across his shoulders restlessly. He shifted over me, his thigh
sliding between mine.

I ran my hands over his chest, then slowly pulled his shirt up
over his head. He wasn't cold now. His skin felt warm underneath
my fingers.

I raised up to let him slide my shirt off. His head lowered,
and he rubbed his closed lips over my nipple. I arched at his
touch. He took one in his mouth, swirling his tongue over it
slowly, kneading the other his hands.

I slid my hand inside his sweats and grasped him, squeezing him
firmly in my hand, satisfied with the sharp gasp I heard in
response. I dragged my nails lightly over his glands, as he
gently tugged my nipple with his teeth. He teased one breast,
then the other, as I squirmed beneath him.

He leaned back and pulled my sweats down my legs in one smooth
motion. I sat up, pushing his down to his knees. He yanked them
the rest of the way off, and lay me back onto the bed again. He
kissed my neck and my face.

His lips burned against mine in another long kiss. He pressed his
hips forward, spreading my thighs and rubbing his hard length
against me. I gasped at the feel of him against my folds.  I
moved under him, grinding our bodies together, until I heard a
deep growl from his chest.

I reached between us and guided him into me. He filled me slowly
and completely. He moved languidly inside me, his thrusts shallow
at first but gradually deepening. I ran my hands over his
shoulders, then down his back, arching toward him with each
stroke.

"You feel so good." He groaned raggedly. "So good Scully."

My insides have coiled tight, and I whisper his name feverishly.
He moved faster now, and I could feel his body tensing above me.

"Mulder!" I cry, as the wave of tension suddenly broke inside me.
From far away I heard him calling my name over and over, as he
buries himself deep inside me with one powerful thrust.

It was a long time before either of us could move. When we did,
it was just to change our positions slightly. He lay on his back,
and drew my head to his chest. His breath evened out into a
sleeping rhythm in minutes.

I fell asleep listening to the beat of his heart.



The next day while Mulder was out with the Gunmen, I tracked down
Skinner. I motioned him away from everyone else.

"What is it?" His eyes were shadowed with concern.
"Nothing bad. Mulder told me last night that he wanted to leave
here."
"Is he ready?"
"Let's give him a few more days. A week at most. Once we are on
the road, he's not going to get as much rest."
He nodded thoughtfully.
"He talked to me last night." Skinner's words surprised me.
"About what?"
"He has some ideas. Damn good ones."
I didn't have to ask what he meant. I knew. This would have been
Mulder's fight from the beginning, if fate had been a little more
kind.
"Did he talk about anything else?" I ventured.
Skinners jaw tightened, and he nodded.
"He talked a little. Not much."

I remembered last night, and it all clicked into place. Mulder
standing over me, cold as ice, not wanting to talk, but wanting
to be close to me.

That had to be when he came back from talking to Skinner.

"It was late when he came back to the room." I said casually.
"We talked for a long time." He confirmed my thoughts without
realizing it.
"I'm glad he can tell you the things he can't tell me."
"You wouldn't want to know." His tone was grim.
"I thought of something last night, after he went to bed. I have
an idea." Skinner spoke quietly, looking at the walls around us.

I listened to what he had in mind, and I agreed.


The meetings had become a nightly habit, but now included most
everyone in our group. Mulder looked a lot better than he had
before. He'd gradually met the others in our party, getting to
know some of them very well.

He was still thin and I knew it would take months before his
weight was normal again, but I had noticed that his ribs were
less visible, his cheeks less hollow. A lot it was from the Vodka
cakes that Frohike kept making. Mulder loved them, and they were
really high in calories.

A few days later, he helped plan our next campaign. We'd gotten
some information on another installation in Jacksonville,
Florida. We received the blueprints through e-mail, and reviewed
them. We assigned check-in locations. Mulder pointed out some
good vantage points, and potentially dangerous areas. His mind
was as sharp as ever.

He was less than enthusiastic when we asked him take the lookout
position. He wanted to be down front. We managed to convince him
that if anyone was going to watch our asses, we would rather it
be him, than anyone else. He said he didn't know if that was a
compliment, or a perverse insult.

The old Mulder was definitely back.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


The next couple of days were hectic, as we prepared to hit
Jacksonville. There was a lot to be done, and Mulder was right in
the midst of it all.

I think it was having a sense of purpose that finally brought him
back to us so completely.

He laughed more, and I loved hearing it. I wasn't the only one
either. I never knew Skinner to tell dirty jokes, but he'd put
any sailor to shame.

But Mulder had also changed drastically in one respect. He was
openly affectionate to me since we'd started sleeping together.
I didn't really mind, it wasn't a big secret that we loved each
other. To quote Langly, a blind man could see it.

I was in the mess hall with Frohike, taking inventory of our
stocks, when Mulder snuck up behind me.

He spun me around, and gave me a loud, smacking, kiss.

"Oh jeeze. Get a room." Frohike chuckled.

"But then you'd miss the peep show." Mulder remarked, before
leaning down and kissing me again, more sincerely this time.

"By the power invested in me by the state of confusion, I now
pronounce you man and wife." Skinner called out, coming down the
corridor toward us.

"Is that legal?" Mulder grinned at him, sounding hopeful.
"No, it's not legal." I said.
"It's legal." Frohike and Skinner answered in unison. They were
really spooky sometimes.
"It's not legal." I said louder this time.
"They say it is!" Mulder pointed to them accusingly.
"It's not legal because you never asked me." I smiled smugly.

His playful smile faded.

"I asked you a long time ago. You just never gave me an answer."
He sounded serious.
I blinked at him, waiting for the punch line.
"You were joking."
"Says who?"

My mouth opened, but nothing came out. I didn't know what to say.

"Well?" Mulder whispered, his eyes searching mine.
He was serious!
"Well?" Frohike mimicked.

Skinner was watching as well, a mischievous grin half hidden by
the hand cupping his chin.

"Yes." I finally found my voice. Mulder's face lighted up like
the sun.
"You may now kiss the bride." Skinner nodded.
"He already has." Frohike grinned.

That didn't stop Mulder. He kissed me again. It was a kiss that
I'll never forget. Familiar, promising, and gentle. It was a
wedding day kiss.

"Now it's legal." Skinner grunted. "But you have to delay the
honeymoon, or make it a real short one."

"Hey guys!" Frohike yelled out. "Mulder and Scully just got
hitched!"

That brought Langly and Byers both on the run.

"'Bout damn time!" Langly laughed, clapping loudly.
"Seriously?" Byers asked, looking from me to Mulder and back
again.

"Yes." Mulder answered him, smiling broadly and still holding me
close.

"Yeah. That means they'll both be useless for the rest of the
day." Skinner muttered gruffly. He wasn't quite pulling off the
tough boss act. "Go on. Get out of here."

Mulder was enjoying this too much to turn down the offer, he drug
me, still dumbfounded back to our room.

We didn't come out till dinner time.



We loaded up and left the next morning.

Mulder and I rode out with Skinner, making sure we were the last
ones to leave.

Mulder looked back as we left, his expression both relieved and
pained at the same time.

Crawling out of hell isn't easy, I thought as I looked at him.

Skinner looked tired, but I knew why. He'd been up early this
morning.

He stopped the van on a small rise, about a mile from the
facility we'd just left. It was just visible in the distance.

Mulder looked back at me quizzically, but I just shrugged.

"Mulder, come on." He called over his shoulder, getting out of
the van.

Mulder opened his door, and got out, while I came out the side
door.

Skinner was standing with his back to us, looking down at the
plain white building we had occupied for the past two weeks.

"What is it?" Mulder asked, walking up to stand next to him.
Skinner didn't answer, he just handed him a small black box.
Mulder took it and looked back at me again, his eyes wide.

"Do it Mulder." I nodded. "Put it behind you."

He turned back around, and looked at Skinner, who also nodded.

He pushed the single button on the detonator, and the building
rumbled loudly, falling in on itself until it was nothing but a
pile of rubble.

"Everybody has to leave the darkness sometime." Skinner said,
before turning back to the van.

Mulder looked at me again, his face strong, if still a little
thin. We smiled at each other.

We got back into the van, and this time he didn't look back.



Fini~

AUTHORS NOTE : 
When I started this a couple of days ago, I had a definite
beginning, middle and end to it. I just had no idea how long it
would take for me to tell it. I don't usually publish a WIP. I
personally hate to read them! You never know when you'll get the
next part of a great story. It's nerve wracking.

This story has ended, but there are many more that could be told
in this 'reality'. I see a million avenues I could take. So don't
be surprised, if you see a sequel to, or companion to
'Nightmares' at some point.

I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing
it. But I'm also glad it's over. It's been giving me nightmares
of my own.


Kell