From:             mgraham@techplus.com 
Subject:          Dragon Soul
Date sent:        Fri, 21 Nov 1997 12:21:46 -0600

Dragon Soul
By Meg Graham.


CLASSIFICATION:  Slight MSR, ANGST

DISCLAIMER: As you've probably guessed, I don't own Mulder, Scully, any 
other characters on x-files, or the x-files backstory.  If I did, I'd be Chris Carter, 
and there'd be no need for this fanfic.  Mulder and Scully would already have an 
on-screen relationship.

SPOILERS:  Never.  Not a spoiler in sight.

SUMMARY:  I'm not going to ruin it for you.  Silly people.

ARCHIVE:  Yes, please.  Just as long as my name and email addy goes with it 
and it is unchanged.

Strands of silver in the wind, eyes like emeralds bring me in 
Feeling the warmth of her embrace, I see the world in silver grace
Dragon eyes and Dragon soul, she stirs within me an ache that grows
Standing at the edge of darkness, she rescues me from the night
Staring at the edge of darkness, I am rescued by her light.
				-Tas Logan


The man stared down at her, his gaze blank and expressionless.  Hers wasn't.  All 
she could feel was the pain, the searing, the flame, the endless fire that seemed to 
consume her.  She screamed.  No one was there to answer her.  No one could 
help her.  In what seemed like an endless procession, one got off, kicked her, and 
let another on.  She couldn't feel anymore, couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't 
cry out.  All that existed was the pain.  The pain, and the shame.  That this had 
happened to her.

Hours later, Dana Katherine Scully was found by a beat cop in the back alley of a 
bad neighbourhood, lying in her ripped, blood-stained clothes.  She was rushed to 
the hospital.  Her rape was on the six 'o' clock news, hidden at the end of the 
hour, just another number in a world full of them.

****************************************************************
********

At ten thirty, Fox Mulder's phone rang.  He leaned over lazily, wondering who it 
was.  The Gunmen, probably, with a new suspect in the JFK assassination.  
Grinning expectantly, he picked up the reveiver.

"Hello."

"Fox? Is that you?" the voice on the other end was female, upset, and obviously 
belonging to a Scully.

"Mrs. Scully? Is something wrong? Did....did something happen to Dana?" His 
voice was all of a sudden full of hurt, his heart racing, his eyes clouded and 
worried.

"She....she was...walking home...Fox, she got raped.  She's at the hospital..." The 
woman's voice trembled, breaking into small, quiet sobs.

For a long minute, the walls of Mulder's mind collapsed.  Raped.  No.  Not her.  
Not his Scully.  Almost on autopilot, his voice broke through his racing mind.

"I'll be there." 

He hung up the phone, pulled on his shoes and head out the door, unmindful of 
the rain that was pouring all around him.

****************************************************************
********

Nurse Langridge was on the night watch, tending the victims of violence here on 
the third floor.  As she checked the IV in Dana Scully's room, the woman 
regained consciousness.  At least, according to the EEG she did.  She sat blankly, 
staring into space, in a clear state of catatonia.  Nurse Langridge went out to 
fetch Dr. Carlson, head of the trauma ward.

****************************************************************
********
When Fox Mulder arrived at the hospital, the nurses thought that he was there 
for treatment.  He was drenched in cold rainwater, his hair plastered to his head, 
shivering uncontrollably.  Someone threw a blanket around him.  He shook his 
hair out of his eyes and asked to see Dana Scully.

****************************************************************
********

Dr. Carlson, a young specialist still very much in love with her work, walked into 
room 17.  Dana Scully, the chart said.  According to the EEG, she had regained 
consciousness, but she was still in shock, staring blankly into space.  Dr. Carlson 
approached the bed and sat on the small chair beside it.

"Dana, my name is Dr. Lynn Carlson.  I'm here to help you.  You're in St. Mary's 
Mercy Hospital on George street.  Dana, we want you to wake up, so that we 
can find out who hurt you.  You're safe here, you don't have to worry about 
anything.  Your family is here, Dana.  Your mother, your brothers, everyone who 
loves you.  How about I send them in?"

Through this monologue, there was no change in the young red-haired patient.  
Lynn was not surprised.  Catatonia, in the most classic sense, is seldom beaten by 
a few simple words from a stranger.  Dr. Carlson gave Dana's hand a squeeze and 
went outside to summon her family.

****************************************************************
********

Maggie Scully sat quietly in the hospital waiting room, looking as blank and 
expressionless as her daughter.  Fox sat beside her, an all-too familiar expression 
of extreme pain on his face.  Someone was coming towards her.  She looked up.

"Mrs. Scully?" the young doctor questionned.  At her slight nod, she continued, 
"I'm Dr. Carlson, I'm treating your daughter."

Maggie cleared her throat slightly, raised her head a bit, and asked, "How is 
she?"

"Physically, she's alright.  She was treated for trauma and three broken ribs, but 
all injuries are fairly minor and she should recover.  That's the good news.  The 
bad news is that she's in shock.  At the moment, she's in a state of catatonia, 
staring into space.  She's very conscious, and undoubtedly vaguely aware of her 
surroundings, but unresponsive to me or any of the nurses.  We'd like you to 
come in and talk to her."

At the words "shock" and "catatonia", Maggie's face fell.  Swallowing around the 
lump in her throat, she said, "Okay."  Then, to Fox, who had sat unnoticed 
through the doctor's speech, she said, "Fox, I'm going to go visit Dana.  You stay 
here, and try to warm up.  Bill and Charlie will keep you company." With a 
glance at her sons, who were sitting next to Mulder, she left with the young 
doctor.
****************************************************************
********

"Dana, honey, I'm here.  It's your mother, Dana.  I came as soon as I heard.  Bill 
and Charlie are here, too.  Bill was on leave in Green Falls when we heard.  
Dana, even Fox is here.  He ran through the rain to get here, because . . ." 
Maggie left off, because she didn't know why Fox hadn't taken his car.  He had 
simply forgotten, she supposed.  "Because his car wouldn't start." she finished, 
haltingly.

At Lynn Carlson's encouraging smile, Maggie continued, "Honey, you're safe 
here.  In the hospital.  No one's going to hurt you, here.  We just want you to 
wake up so that we can talk to you, Dana.  You don't to waste Billy's leave time 
by not being able to talk to him, do you?"

At this, Dana shifted slightly in the bed, and blinked.

"Honey, the doctor says that you're fine.  You've got some broken ribs, but 
you're going to heal up just fine.  Would you like to talk to your brothers, Dana? 
Did you want to talk to Fox?"

Dana moved a bit more, and shifted her head on the pillow, but showed no real 
signs of recognition.

"I'll go get them, Dana.  They'll come and talk to you."

Dana did nothing, just sat and stared at the wall.  Maggie bit her lower lip and 
walked with the doctor out of the room.

"Mrs Scully?" Dr. Carlson asked, closing the door. 

"Yes?"

"May I ask....just who is Fox? Is he one of Dana's brothers?"

"No...he's...." Maggie furrowed her brow as she tried to find words to explain it.  
"He's her best friend."

"Oh.  Well then, she'd probably like to hear his voice."

"Yes, she probably would."

****************************************************************
********

Dana Scully lay in a perpetual fog.  She could see the nurses come in and out, 
could hear the encouraging words that they whispered, could even taste the smell 
of hospital on her tongue.  But she could do nothing about it.  She sat, alone in 
the fog, unwilling to get up and walk to the edge of the mist and into the waking 
world.  She was quite peaceful here.  She would sit here as long as she wanted 
to.  No one could touch her here...the fog was too dense.  

*********************************************

"Dana?"

*********************************************

The voice came from the edge of the fog.  It was low and kind, but was 
underscored with a note of fear.  She closed her eyes.  She didn't want more fear.  
Fear wasn't supposed to exist here.  She ignored the voice.

*********************************************

"Hi, Dana.  It's me, it's..." he hesitated, then supposed that he might as well say it.

"It's Fox.  I came by to see how you were feeling." he sat down and gently 
stroked the side of her face, brushing the copper locks away from her eyes.

*********************************************

Shutting her eyes tighter, she held her ground.  But that voice...it was familiar 
somehow.  And this time, it was underscored not with fear, but with worry and 
concern.  She considered jumping out of the fog and into that voice.  But then, 
like a petulant child, she turned her head away and put her head down on her 
chest.  It was nice in the fog.  She would stay.

*********************************************

At four am, Nurse Langridge was finishing up her rounds and preparing to go 
home.  It had been a long shift, and she would be quite happy to go home to 
George.  She went up to the last room on her list.  302.  She opened the door 
quietly and was surprised to see the man still there.  

"Sir? What are you still doing here?"

The man did not answer, simply went on stroking the woman's cheek.  

"Sir, I'm sorry, but you'll have to leave.  You can come back tonight during 
visiting hours."

The man seemed to be a master of passive resistance.  He didn't move.

"Sir?" 

Finally, the man seemed to hear her.  He nodded his head, kissed the woman 
chastely on her forehead, and left.  Alice Langridge shook her head and went 
about her job.

*************************************

"Fox, I know how you feel, but I think it would be better if she stayed with me."

"Mrs. Scully, I don't think she's up to the trip.  I think that if she stayed here in 
town for a few days, then maybe she could go with you out to the house..."

"But who'll look after her, Fox? She needs constant care.  She needs to be fed 
and dressed and bathed.  Would she feel comfortable with you doing that?"

"She's done it for me.  Besides, I think it'll help if she stays in her own home.  She 
needs familiarity."

Seeing the determination and concern in the young man's face, Maggie Scully 
backed down.  "Alright, Fox.  Let's take her home."

The trip was uneventful.  Dana Scully, still catatonic, sat in the back seat, beside 
her mother who held her and and whispered to her that she was going home.  

*****************************************

The fog was lifting.  

She didn't want the fog to go.  She wanted to stay in the fog, where it was safe, 
where it was warm.  She didn't want to venture out and see what lie at the edge 
of the mist.  She glanced at the ever diminishing grey vapor, and shut her eyes.

*****************************************

The first night was hard.  After putting Dana to sleep in her own bed and shooing 
her mother out of the apartment, saying that she would be no use to anyone if she 
didn't sleep, Fox settled down on the couch.  Drawing a blanket over himself, he 
slipped quietly and oh so slowly into sleep.

The second night was harder.  After a day of feeding, washing and clothing his 
friend with the care of a father for his child, and after receiving no sign that she 
even knew she was alive, Fox cried himself silently to sleep.  It felt silly to him, 
that after all these years he would be crying himself to sleep again.  Any other 
thoughts he had were ushered away by the darkness.

On the third night, she came to him for the first time.  While he slept, she crept 
out of bed, walked slowly and methodically to the couch, and lay down beside 
him.  She then closed her eyes and slept.
*******************************************

The next morning, when Fox awakened to find himself cuddled up next to his 
partner, his brain went into overdrive.  Had he gotten up in the night and brought 
her here? No.  Impossible.  She must have come on her own.  A smile lighted in 
his head, to be echoed by his face.  She was on her way back.

*******************************************

She had decided that, whether she liked it or not, the fog was lifting.  And that 
she might as well accept it.  She stood up off of the tree stump where she had sat, 
and took her first step toward the edge.

*******************************************

>From that point on, Maggie and Fox were sure of her progress.  She began to 
walk about listlessly without aid, and to mumble incoherently.  Lynn, the doctor, 
told them that while it had been sticky for a while, Dana was definitely on her 
way back.  She gave them the name of a specialist counsellor.  Hazel MacKenzie.  
And told them to keep up the good work.

And every night, Dana and Fox slept together in peace, each keeping the other's 
bad dreams away.
*********************************
The end? I dunno, should I write more? I'm sorely tempted, but I'm awaiting your 
reaction.  Oh, yeah, and thanks to The Raving Star, Slangridge, and Gabba for 
gushing over my fanfic.  Thanks to Heather for critiquing it.

What do you think, Sirs?


Dragon Soul
Part Two
By Meg Graham


Dana Scully's Apartment
Six weeks later.

Dana sat quite comfortably in her partner's arms, eyes closed, enjoying the feel of 
his chest rising and falling beside her.  She loved him.  She loved sleeping with 
him. She loved trusting him.  She loved the way he snored quietly sometimes, the 
exhalation of his breath on her neck, the rumble of his voice box near her 
shoulder blades.  

Unfortuantely, he didn't know this.  She hadn't told him.  She wasn't ready.  She 
wasn't healed.  She still felt vulnerable and depressed, even if she acted a bit more 
out of it than she was.  But if she healed up too quickly, these chaste nightime 
sleep sessions would come to an end.  So, with the sacrifice of her peace of mind, 
she gained the feeling of Mulder's arms around her at three in the morning.

They slept together in her bed; Fox had long since stopped living at his 
apartment.  And sleeping together on the couch, as they had at first, was out of 
the question too; it was cramped and uncomfortable, and they often woke up 
with stiff necks or one of them on the floor.  So Mulder slept in her bed, and she 
joined him.  She was always the last one to come to bed, and the last to sleep.  
She needed that control.  Even with her trust in him, she needed her control.  
And he gave it to her, respecting her.  Trusting her to heal in her own good time.

Now, as she dozed contentedly in beside Mulder, it seemed almost impossible for 
anything to break this moment.  The rape, the pain, and the nightmares seemed 
far away.  She hated the nightmares.  She knew, though, that they were her way 
of purging herself, her mental cleanup.  It meant that she was healing.  She was 
grateful to Mulder for helping her heal.  She closed her eyes and smiled into the 
pillow.

The alarm went off.

She sat up slowly, blinking away the remnants of the fogginess that had ensconed 
her while she slept.  She looked over at Fox, and saw that he was still asleep.  
She shook him.

"Wha..."

"Time to get up, Fox.  You have to work."

He sat up partially, smiling slowly and blinking in the light that streamed in 
through the window.

"Soundin' pretty perky, Scully.  Maybe you should go to work for me."

She smiled.  She knew that in just a little while, she would be ready to do just 
that.

"Soon.  But not today.  It's Monday.  You know how I hate Mondays." she 
smiled the bright smile, the one she knew he liked.  It made him smile back.

"You still sound way too cheery for someone who hates the day."

"C'mon, you have to cook me breakfast before you go."

He made a snorting sound and lifted one eyebrow in a perfect imitation of his 
partner.

"If you think that I'm not only going to work today, but cooking for you too, 
you're nuts."

"C'mon, Fox..."

"Not unless you promise."

"Promise?" now her eyebrow went up.

"Promise to cook supper."

With a huge smile that came mostly from the thrill of procrastination, she jumped 
out of bed and raced for the bathroom.  He grabbed her around her waist and 
picked her up before she could get there.

"...AND you have to promise to let me have the bathroom first."

"Put me down." fear in her voice now.  He complied at once, realizing that he 
may have pushed it.

She took a step away, then smiled crookedly.  She stepped into the bathroom, 
shut the door and locked it.

"Hey, Scully, I'm cooking! Let me in there!"

"So, while you cook, I'm showering.  You see? It's time management." her voice 
drifted to him through the door.

With a sigh of resignation, Mulder spoke up once more. "So what do you wanna 
eat?"

A chuckle from inside the bathroom.  She knew that she had won. "Your French 
Toast is pretty good these days, Fox.  Let's try that."

"You know, this is not a hotel!" he put a smile into his voice.

The door opened to reveal Scully in all her pajamad glory, toothbrush in hand. 
"No, it's my apartment.  Go make breakfast, Mulder." She was using his last 
name.  That meant business.  With a chuckle, he went off to the kitchen.

*****************************************

With a bite of French toast on its way to his mouth and a dribble of syrup running 
down his chin, Mulder had an epiphany.

//I love her.// The thought was calm, rational, and seemed to echo with truth.  He 
turned it over in his head.  He did love her.  But she wasn't ready to love him...

Suddenly he felt something scratchy against his face, and he recoiled.  Scully 
drew back the piece of paper towel, grinning.

"You had a dribble of syrup there, Fox." 

//Maybe she loves me...//

"Oh, and we seem to be out of napkins.  I'll go shopping today."

//But she's not ready...// he was filled with a slow, throbbing ache.

"Mulder? You okay?"

"Yeah.  I'm fine.  You sure you wanna go by yourself?" the concern was written 
rather plainly on his face.

"Yeah.  I'm feeling good today.  I can handle it."

"Okay.  Just call if you need anything.  I've gotta go.  The Gunmen are waiting 
for me." he got up and headed for the door, his partner trailing behind him.

"That's no way to lure me back to work, Fox."

"There's nothing wrong with the Gunmen."

"Mulder, there's nothing wrong with a lot of things.  The Gunmen are not one of 
those things."

"I'm going now.  Call me if you need anything," he repeated.

"I will.  Bye." she leaned over and up and kissed him on the cheek.  Mostly 
because she couldn't reach his forehead.

He smiled rather crookedly, and headed out the door.  He seemed on edge, 
Scully thought.  Very un-Mulderlike.

And Mulder's only thought as he headed down the corridor was, //We're kissing 
each other goodbye...//

******************************************

At 10:00, Mulder was called into a meeting with Skinner.

"Agent Mulder.  Sit down." Mulder complied, taking the chair opposite his 
superior.  A pang hit when he realized that the chair next to him, usually 
occupied by Scully, was empty.

"What's this about, sir?"

"Checking up on you, Mulder.  How you're doing.  How the case in Ruxton is 
going." 

"I'm doing fine, sir.  As for the case, it's turning out to be a domestic dispute 
killing.  I'll know for sure when the autopsy results come back." Mulder's face 
was impassive.  He didn't want to say what they both knew.

//Autopsy results don't take as long to come back when your partner's a forensic 
doctor.//

Skinner cleared his throat, as if to expunge the tension in the room.

"Good.  How's Agent Scully?"

"She's fine." the image of her kissing his cheek scurried through his mind, but he 
pushed it back.

"That's good.  Mulder, I wanted you to know that they found the men who..." 
Skinner stopped, swallowed, and continued, "raped her.  Just across the border 
into Mexico.  Two were dead of a drug overdose."

"And the others?" Mulder's face was still neutral, his eyes blank.

"They're in Mexico.  We can't touch them, Mulder.  They left behind a trail of 
dead women, but we can't touch them.  Even if we could, they'd be impossible to 
find."

Mulder blinked his eyes slowly.  "Is that all, sir?"

"Yes, Agent Mulder, you're dismissed." Skinner watched the man get up and 
walk quickly out of the room.  He closed his own eyes, briefly, then opened them 
and buzzed Susan to ask her what his next appointment was.

*************************************
Fox called the gunmen's HQ and left a message, cancelling their meeting.  They'd 
only ask about Scully, and he'd be reminded.  

Scully.  What was he going to do? He would have to talk to her.  What would he 
say?

He decided that he could think about that on the way over.  He stood up, 
grabbed his coat, and walked out of his office, headed for the employee parking 
garage.

***************************************
Dana walked down the well-lit street, carrying a plastic bag full of groceries.  She 
glanced into an alley as she passed it.  There was no one there.  She looked 
again.  The shadows seemed to dance and tease her with the threat of danger.  
Her breathing sped up.  She walked a bit faster, despite her own scolding 
thoughts.  It was, after all, the middle of the afternoon, broad daylight.  She was 
on an empty street in an upscale neighborhood.  Still, she checked the alleyway.  
And this time, she saw something.

A small shadow pulled away from the others cast by the building.  It started 
towards her.  Not wanting to see any more, she dropped the groceries and ran.  
She didn't stop when she got home, although her ribs were aching and she was 
short of breath.  She went up to her apartment, fumbled the key into the lock, 
closed the door behind her, and locked it.  She leaned against the door and 
started to cry bitterly.

"Dana? God, Dana, what's wrong?"

He was here.  Why was he here, and not at work? It didn't matter.  She turned 
and fell against him, still sobbing incoherently.  And he held her, helping her cry 
out her tears of frustration and anger and most of all, fear.

********************************************