From GMD614@aol.com Sun Apr 06 02:26:13 1997
Subject: SAFE - in its entirety
From: GMD614@aol.com
--------

SAFE 
by GMD614@aol.com

Disclaimer: The character of Dr. Matthew Jacobsen, Oncologist, is mine all
others belong to CC, FOX, and 1013 Productions.
Spoiler: Momento Mori
Rating: R (language)
Summary: Scully finds herself in an abusive relationship and hopes that
Mulder can see past their misunderstandings to help her.



     Scully wiped the dark red droplets of blood from her upper lip. Raising
her swollen eyes to the reflection in the mirror, she shook her head in
disgust. Locked in a bathroom, crying, was no way for Special Agent Dana
Scully to handle anything. She was strong, always strong and always smart.
 If it had not been for her cancer and its remission, a new chance at life,
she'd never be here.  Here. In the bathroom.
     The blood on the washcloth unleashed a fury of memories. Chemotherapy
and radiation sessions, stark and sanitary medical buildings, the agony of
headaches and wretching after treatments brought another wave of
self-loathing. Scully turned away from the mirror and sat on the edge of the
tub.  How had her life come to this? 
     
********************
Seven Months Earlier

     Mulder sat at his desk staring across the empty office, shuffling small
stacks of files from left to right. His space was a mess, but Scully's desk
reflected its owner - neat and orderly.  Everything had its place; everything
had order. 
     The last of her chemotherapy appointments was scheduled for this
morning. She said she needed to do it alone - she didn't want him there. He'd
accepted that. Mulder knew it had been quiet torture for Scully, letting her
guard down and letting him in all these weeks during her treatments. She
finally let him be there for her and they seemed to have hurdled some
obstacles in their relationship, he'd thought. 
     Mulder snorted and shook his head at his own stupidity. Everything had a
place in Dana Scully's life, and that went for him as well. He was "friend" -
best "friend", but "friend" nonetheless. That was his position. How
ridiculous to think that she'd let him switch position or jump category!  
     She wanted to be alone for her final treatment. He thought that was a
good idea. Scully facing her demon for the final time, eye to eye, on her
terms.  Excellent! Mulder picked up a stapler and hurled it across the room.
As it slammed against the wall, and the paint and plaster chipped, Mulder
realized his life was not really his life. He had lived his entire life for
someone else. First, it was Samantha, then Dana Scully.  Mulder remained true
to himself, however; always giving away what was most essentially his. 
     Scully didn't want him to be with her for the treatment - but Dr.
Matthew Jacobsen was perfectly welcome. It made sense really. He'd been her
medical support and advice. He was able to help define the cancer in terms
and concepts that Mulder could not. Dr. Oncology was her savior. He was the
one she turned to for the final chemo session. Fine...but why did she lie to
him?
     Her words rang in his ears now. "I want to do this alone. I think I
should. I must. This is my disease, my battle, and I want to say, 'Fuck off'
to it one-on-one. Can you understand, Mulder?"
     He understood. Perfectly. Mulder knew "alone". He'd played that tune for
25 years or so. He thought he left it behind when Dana first walked into the
basement office. Apparently, he'd been wrong. Alone to Dana meant "Without
you, Mulder".  
     Jacobsen would hold her hand. Sure. He'd done it before when Mulder was
on assignment. Mulder referred to Jacobsen as the second string - not the
varsity guy, not the starter or the closer. Just some middle relief. Jacobsen
could hold her hand, but it was always Mulder who held her thick, red hair
back as she vomitted from the treatment. Mulder held her cup of water when
she was too weary to lift it. Mulder held Scully, all of her, in his arms
when the cold seemed to penetrate to her very soul, and the nightmares would
torture her sleep. Mulder held all of her in his arms...in his heart. 

********************
     Scully had to get out of there. The muted greens of the bathroom were
only enhancing her dizziness. Matt would be waiting. He'd apologize for
hitting her, for making her bleed. It was twice now that he'd lost control.
Scully was sick that she'd let it happen twice.
     Mulder. She needed him now. Knowing that he'd kill Matt made things a
little more complicated, but a dead Matt wasn't entirely unappealing at the
moment. If Matt turned up dead, though, Scully wanted to be sure she was
there to pull the trigger. 
     Scully hoped Mulder wouldn't turn her away with a curt, "I told you so."
 No. Mulder would never shut her out in a time of need. At least he wouldn't
have before the cancer, but now things were so different between them. He
never told her what was wrong, though they had seemed to break down so many
walls during her recovery process. He just shut her out almost instantly on
the day of her last treatment, and she couldn't understand why. She'd
remained as close as she could get to him, but he pulled back - reeled his
thoughts and emotions in - as soon as he saw himself getting close again. 
     Scully blamed the cancer.  The reality of losing her again - forever -
became all too real for Mulder, she assumed, and his attitude was a
prevention of sorts. Mulder wouldn't allow himself to get any closer than
necessary in case the cancer returned and she died. 
     Facing the mirror a final time, Scully took a deep breath, and opened
the bathroom door. Matt was sitting on the top step. Brushing past him,
Scully tried her best to ignore his presence and get to the bottom of the
stairs and out the front door. His large hand stopped her, and she recoiled. 

"Let go of me now."
"Dana...I...please forgive me. I'm so sorry, but you..."
"But I what? What could *I* have done to make *you* think I deserved that?
Let go."
"Dana, you said you'd be home by 7, and when you weren't, I got worried. I
called the office and your cellular phone, but you didn't answer. Then, I saw
the two of you in the car and his arm was around you and you were laughing. I
thought..."
"That's your excuse? Skinner is my *BOSS*! I'm leaving. I'll be back for my
things when you're gone."
"Are you going to your mother's? Are going to tell her about this?"
"Where I go is none of your concern, AND I'm telling everyone about this. I
want the world to see what a piece of shit you really are, Dr. Matthew
Jacobsen."

     He stiffened and his eyes glassed over.

"Fine, Dana. Go, but if you open your mouth, ruin my practice, I'll kill
you."

     The nervous look in his eyes was replaced with cold, hatred. She wiggled
free of his grasp and ran down the stairs, to the car, as fast as she could. 

"Mulder, please be home," she pleaded silently, and drove off into the
darkness.
********************
     The bluish light from the TV caused dancing shadows throughout the room
as Mulder stared blankly at the small screen.  Thinking about nothing in
particular and everything in general became a favorite hobby of his. He
couldn't help but think about Scully and what she and the Doctor were doing
at the moment. He pushed the images from his mind as his thoughts turned
sexual in nature. It hurt. It always would. In the last several months,
Mulder had tried to move on and forget his feelings for Dana Scully, but it
was impossible. She had been an innate part of who he is since they met, and
forgetting her was impossible. Working day after day by her side was
increasingly difficult, but if it was all he could have of her, than so be
it. Her choice was clear. She'd driven off with Jacobsen leaving Mulder
alone.
     A soft knock on the door snapped him out of his thoughts. Reflexively,
he rose reaching for the gun on the coffee table. Moving silently toward the
door, he looked through the peephole and saw a cascade of golden-red hair.
Scully.
     A thousand thoughts crossed his mind at once. She hadn't stopped by on a
Saturday night in months. He unlatched the chain, and turned the deadbolt
with a click.
The door opened slowly without Scully ever raising her eyes to him.

"Can I come in, Mulder?"

     He said nothing, but stepped aside, widening the doorway for her to
enter. Something was very wrong. He could see it in her posture, her
carriage. She wasn't looking at him. 

"I...I...need to...talk," she sputtered in little more than a whisper.

     Mulder placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding her to the
couch. Such a familiar touch, so soft and so comforting, caused Scully to
break down. She stopped before reaching the couch and began to sob with her
back still to Mulder. Without a moment's hesitation, Mulder, terrified and
anxious, pulled her to him in a quick motion and held her tightly as she
cried. 

"Shhhh...I'm here, Scully.  I'm here."

     He repeated gentle words, stroking her hair and her back, rocking her in
the safety of his arms. He felt the tesion ease out of Scully's body as they
stood entangled. 

"I was afriad you wouldn't let me in."
"That would never happen."

     He grasped her face in his hands, pushing her hair behind her ears. His
gasp was audible, though he tried to swallow it. Scully's eyes had begun to
blacken and her nose was swollen. Dried blood crusted on her nose and upper
lip. 

"Oh, God...Scully?"
"I'm so sorry, Mulder. I'm so sorry..."
"Who did this to you? WHO, Scully," he voice rising in fear and anger, his
eyes sparking with rage.
"Mulder, whatever I did to make you push me away...I'm sorry. I need you...,"
she began to cry again.
"Scully, tell me what happened."

     As she related the story of Matt's rage and jealousy, Mulder became
increasingly more restless. His hands clutched hers, his eyes looked to her
eyes.

"Scully, did he do this before?"
"Once, he pushed me. It...he was angry about something I
said...about...you..."
"About me?"
"Yeah. I'm so stupid, Mulder. His jealousy had been getting worse over the
last few weeks and I should have walked away, but...You must think I'm
pathetic."

     Scully got up and moved toward the window. She just stood there,
shoulders slumped.  She heard Mulder rise off the couch and leave the room.
Her mind reeled. He must be repulsed by her weakness, or was she being
blinded by her own self-hatred?
     He returned a few moments later. Scully felt him behind her and she
sensed his hesitation. She lowered her head, and softly spoke.

"If you want me to go, I will. I'll stay with my mother."

     His arms wrapped around her and he pressed himself to her. She felt his
face nestle at the nape of her neck. He was shaking.

"You are not leaving my sight."

     His arms loosened and she turned to face him. He took her by the hand
and led her to the bathroom where a warm bath waited for her.  Her eyes
turned to him with uncertainty, and he smiled to reassure her that she was
going to be fine.  Brushing the hair off of her bruised face, his hand
dropped to the buttons on her shirt. Never breaking their gaze, Mulder
unbuttoned the denim shirt and pushed it to the floor. He traced the lines of
her neck and shoulders with one finger and slipped it under the strap of her
bra. She was calmed by all his eyes and his touch communicated. The words
would come, but later. 
     Scully stepped back and pulled her leggings and socks off, dropping them
next to the shirt. Mulder didn't move. He couldn't move. Scully removed the
last of her clothing, and looked from Mulder to the tub and back again. 

"Get in before it gets cold. I'll be right back."

     As he turned to leave, Mulder fought back the tears that threatened to
fall. He had to be strong for her. She was always his strength and he
couldn't show her his fears. Not now. 
     Scully felt the heat of the water caress her as she slid down into a
reclining position. Her eyes closed and her arms crossed in front of her as
she hugged herself tightly. There were no thoughts, no words, to express all
she felt. She was safe here, safer than she'd ever been.  Everything would be
fine.
     Mulder returned carrying his bathrobe. He hung it from the door and
turned to look at the tiny woman in his tub. So fragile. He'd never seen her
as fragile before the cancer, but during the treatment she'd been so weak and
sick. His heart throbbed and his head ached having to stand by and watch her
go through the pain, not able to ease any of it. He never allowed himself to
show her his fear. She didn't need that. Mulder wouldn't put that on her then
and he wouldn't do it now. 
     Opening her eyes, Scully stared up at Mulder. His face wore the anguish
his heart bore. She reached out a hand to him and he grasped it, kneeling
beside the tub. He turned to the cabinet under the sink and remove antiseptic
and a clean washcloth. With trembling hands, Mulder tended to her battered
face. He couldn't look into her eyes - not yet. His emotions weren't quite
controlled, but Scully watched him intently. She watched the subtle lines and
creases of his face and the emotions clear in his hazel eyes. As he gingerly
nursed her wounds, feeling the pain behind each mark, each bruise, Scully's
heart pounded that much harder in her chest. 

"Why did you leave me?" Her voice was small and wavering.
"I...you left me, Scully."
"Never, Mulder. I never left you."
"You left me at the office. You wanted him with you for the last of the
treatments. You wanted him with you..."
"No," she shook her head, and stated more firmly, "No. He drove me because I
knew I wouldn't be able to get home on my own, but I did it alone."
"He held your hand, Scully. I was there. I know you didn't want me to be
there, but I couldn't let you...I needed to be sure you were all right.
Jacobsen was in the room with you, touching your hair and holding your hand.
You turned to him for the last of it and it hurt."
"He must have walked in while I slept, Mulder. You saw something that wasn't
there. *I* saw something that wasn't there. Then, I ignored what *was* there
and got my face bashed in."
"Don't. I can't...I don't want you to talk like that."
"What do I do now?"
"Tell me that we're ok; that I didn't imagine what was happening between us."
"Mulder, I knew I could beat cancer, but when gave me the cold shoulder with
no apparent reason, I thought I'd die."

    Scully touched her hand to his cheek. His sharp intake of breath and its
slow release oddly aroused her. She missed his voice, his scent, his touch.
He, too, longed to lose himself in all that was Scully. Every move, every
thought, was charged with sexual electricity as she rose from the bath and he
wrapped her in his thick robe. He didn't dare allow himself the pleasure of
looking at her - naked and wet. This was not the time. Scully was aware of
his restraint and greatful for it. She needed him to love her tonight. Matt
would be dealt with tomorrow. She and Mulder had to reconnect, explore the
boundaries of their unspoken bond. 
     In wrapping the bathrobe around Scully, so too were Mulder's arms
wrapped around her. He lifted her and held her close to him. Swaying as if to
music, Mulder pressed his lips to her temple.

"I'm sorry, Scully, for giving up so quickly."
"I'm sorry for not fighting you harder, Mulder."

     He carried her to the bedroom and paused at the side of the bed.

"Let me hold you tonight, Scully."

     Like the brush of a feather, her lips caressed his. Once. Twice.  She
rested her head in the crook of his neck and tightened her arms around his
neck.

"Thank you, Mulder," she whispered, he set her on the bed and stretched
himself beside her. Pulling the blanket over them, Mulder held her,
remembering the nights not so long ago when her sick and tired body thirsted
for his warmth. Tonight, it wasn't her body, but her soul that needed him,
and his soul that longed for hers.  Safe, they slept, entwined.


THE END