Darkest Hours By: Shawen A. Greer Rating: G Classification: MSR, Angst Disclaimer: As everyone already knows, these characters don't belong to me but to Chris Carter, Fox Broadcasting and 1013 Productions. They are borrowed without permission, but without intent of infringement. SUMMARY: Takes place during the missing scene of Sein Und Zeit SPOILERS: Sein Und Zeit FEEDBACK: Please, please, please! shawen@altavista.com My stories and lots of other great ones are at The Hall of 'X' www.geocities.com/Area51/Quasar/8840 Mulder's Apartment Scully had never seen Mulder so broken, so lost. His anguish was only surpassed by his anger. Anger towards his mother for leaving him and taking with her so many unanswered questions, as well as an insatiable anger toward those that he felt sure were accountable for her death. But the biggest portion he harbored against himself for disregarding her first call and for not being there for her second, which was to be her last. There was so much she had wanted to tell him, and though he was sure that she had attempted to reveal something to him even in her death, he was clueless as to what that secret could be. Finally unable to contend with the emptiness he felt inside, he surrendered himself into his partner's arms, his tears flowing freely as his tormented sobs fell on her shoulder. The force of his grief shook them both, and soon she realized that her tears had joined his with every moan that echoed his wounded heart. She held him to her breast and rocked him as she would a frightened child, whispering comfort in his ears though she knew they had probably numbed long ago as he slipped deeper into a dark and soundless abyss. Without warning, he pulled away from her with an intensity that sent her reeling backwards onto the floor. She watched in awe, witnessing first hand his grief in expected stages. He had already conquered denial thanks to the forensic report that she had delivered, refuting any plausibility that his mother had been murdered. Mulder had been forced to accept those findings, having asked Scully to indulge him the favor of performing his mother's autopsy, knowing that she alone would search for the truth. His anger took over now and the items that had managed to remain on his desk with the first assault were now fiercely cast aside. His hollow cries were like that of a wounded animal and Scully watched as the small lamp was ripped out of the wall and smashed to the floor exploding into a barrage of glass and plastic. The coffee table was flipped end over end with a single heave and finally exhausted, he melted into the broken glass and discarded papers wishing himself to be discarded as well. She crawled to him oblivious to the jagged pieces that threatened her small hands and pulled him to her. This time he did not surrender to the comfort she offered, and he turned away pulling his long body into ball like a troubled child. But Scully having the strong and determined mind of her father, refused to accept his attempt at seclusion. His voice was raspy and foreign as it landed on her ears, his arms thrashing wildly at her attempts to hold him. "Get away from me, Scully. Just go away." "I'm not leaving you Mulder." Her hand reached out again to touch his shoulder, but his response was as though she was lightning. "No Scully, no." he pleaded with hardened sobs. "Don't you understand? I can't lose you again. Walk away while you still can." He lay on that hard floor covering the remnants of the lamp and associated rubble, his breathing strained by the crushing weight of his sorrow. The tears burned her cheeks and the pain in her chest was unbearable. She feared that he was sinking faster than she could save him, but she was determined to try. She knew his heart. He needed her, though he was unwilling to admit it, but he also feared their closeness. Everything he had was now taken away, and he had already lost Scully once. He could not live through that again, especially now. There was no one else left for him. The broken glass popped and crackled under her legs as she used all her strength to roll his shivering body onto her lap. Emotionally weak, he no longer had the strength to fight her and she pulled him so tightly to her that she could feel his heart beat in her own chest. Her arms held him tightly as she rocked slightly from side to side stroking his hair until his shaking subsided and his sobs turned to an occasional whimper. He looked up at her, calmer now, his eyes pink and swollen from the tears. They sat searching one another's faces for what seemed like hours, though it could have only been minutes, trying to find the words that needed to be said. Though they both knew that the words were unnecessary. His head still lay against her breast and he could feel the beat of her heart, rhythmic in its spell. Her hand brushed the side of his hot face as it had been doing since he turned to her, then she just stopped, her hand remaining on his cheek. Still captured by his dreamlike state, the sight of Scully's face lowering closer to his seemed unreal. Though the feel of her soft lips touching his cheek felt quite real to his stinging skin. He closed his eyes lost in the sensation, and she gently kissed them one at a time before coming to rest on his lips. She kissed them twice before his mind was able to register what was happening. It all seemed like a dream, and he just lay there in the shelter of her arms drowning in an endless sea of emotion having traveled the course from desolation now to increasing elation. He responded to her next kiss, this time his mouth opening to receive hers, each if them emitting small cries feeling the undeniable hunger that was awakened. Their passion came in a wave of exhilaration turning the kisses from gentle comfort to ardent need. He remained in her arms, holding her beautiful face in the palms of his hands expressing his inner most thoughts with his mouth though not with words. His blood coursed through his veins pounding in his head again with every beat of his heart. He pulled away to catch his breath and to look into her eyes, unprepared for the frightening sight before him. He thought, at first, the blood was hers against the delicate white of her skin, but realized that it was from his own hand, which had been cut rather badly in his earlier conflict. He lifted it away from her face slowly staring at the gaping wound as if seeing his own blood for the first time. He cradled it in his other hand for a moment and then looked up at Scully still in a daze and unsure of what to do. "Mulder!" Her exclamation pierced the silence that had settled around them, watching the slow stream of blood pooling into his open palm from below his thumb at the base of his hand. "Where's your first aid kit?" she asked as she rose to her feet. His head rose to look at her, but his eyes were far away. "Mulder," she said, a little more forceful this time, "first aid kit?" "It's under the, uh, bathroom sink." he answered, more like a question than a statement. She returned seconds later with a dampened washcloth, the first aid kit, and an ancient bottle of peroxide, helping him to the sofa and out of the remaining glass. Using the gauze from the first aid kit and a quick splash from the bottle, she expertly cleaned the cut to reveal what she had hoped. It had looked worse than it actually was, and she could probably stop the bleeding with a butterfly instead of taking him for stitches. He watched as her doctor's hands moved quickly to repair his hand using the same compassion that had fought him so desperately to repair his heart and his mind. The bandage seemed to serve its purpose as the bleeding stopped, and she fell back into the sofa with a sigh and closed her eyes. He quietly took the washcloth that lay across her knee that she had carried out but not used, and after brushing her hair away from her face, gently rubbed it against her cheek where the crimson streaks had dried. Her left arm reached up to take his hand, still holding the damp cloth to her cheek. Their eyes found each other again and they both smiled at the unspoken words that they shared. She dropped her hand again by her side, allowing him to demonstrate his gratefulness to her for all that she was, and for all she was to become. When he was finished, he gently touched a kiss to her once again white cheek and settled back into the arm of the sofa pulling her down with him. She laid her head on his chest, her body spreading out to lie between his legs, pushing her shoes off the backs of her heels and allowing them to fall to the floor. He leaned his head down just far enough to kiss this top of hers, and wrapped his arms around her. He laid there in the semi-darkness, thinking of how wonderful it felt to hold her this way. He heavy eyes closed and his thoughts turned to dreams as he drifted off in restful sleep. The next morning........ The darkness had given way to bright sunlight as it filled the room with a new hope, exposing the remnants from the frightening scene the night before. Scully opened her eyes on the familiar yet strange surroundings, hearing the sharp knocks that had wakened her. She managed to crawl out of Mulder's embrace, and stepped quickly to answer the door. It opened to reveal Walter Skinner, looking both professional and concerned. "How's he doing?" he asked with stern sincerity. Her blues eyes revealed so much, but told him nothing. "It's been a hard night for him." He noticed her flinch as she said it, and knew that it must have been a hard night for her as well. Before he could ask anymore, a weary eyed Mulder appeared behind Scully confirming her statement. Skinner pressed his teeth tightly together to retain his stern and professional demeanor, secretly unsettled at the void he still saw in Mulder's eyes. But there was a newness there too, which he was sure must be Scully.