40Author's note:This is the last chapter so I just want to take a moment to thank all of you for sharing this intense journey with me, and especially for all the reviews. Your support really meant a lot to me, because it took a lot of courage to write this. This story is basically a collection of my most intimate hurt/comfort phantasies, which for a long time I didn't even consider turning into a story. It felt too personal. It still does. It still scares me. I feel naked and exposed, which didn't happen with my previous stories. But it was so worth it!
Mulder watched Scully as she slept peacefully on his couch. He envied her ability to fall asleep anywhere, at any time, even in the middle of a stakeout or conversation. Like how she now suddenly fell asleep on him.
He was the one who just came from Europe, but she was the exhausted one? Jet lag or not, Mulder wasn't even tired.
He contemplated watching her all night, but then realized she couldn't be comfortable in that position, sitting on the couch with her legs propped on the coffee table. So he stood up and went to make a bed for her.
Trying to be quiet, Mulder searched for clean linens in the faded light of the night stand lamp. He took his time, feeling everything, from the brisk night air on his skin and the firmness of the wooden closet under his fingertips, to the fresh smell of clean cloth in his hands. Time seemed to have slowed down and everything gained unusual intensity.
Was it all that talk about fate he had with Scully, or was it just a coincidence, but he felt like he was in the right place at the right time which he couldn't remember ever feeling before.
After changing a pillow case, he couldn't resist pressing the pillow to his face, closing his eyes and just savoring the moment.
"Mulder," Scully's voice interrupted him. He opened his eyes with a barely noticeable smile. Scully was standing in the doorway shadow and he was so grateful that she was there. Her presence was enough. He didn't need anything more.
"Hi," he said gently, not moving as though not to break the magic.
"What are you doing?" Scully asked, not moving either. There was something in the air. She felt it too.
"Trying to be a good host," Mulder chuckled lightly, throwing the pillow down, on its place. "Your bed is ready."
"I didn't mean to fall asleep," Scully shook her head. "I'm sorry I stayed this long. I didn't want to be alone after… But you must be exhausted from a long travel and…"
The rest of her words got lost in a deep sigh.
"After what?" Mulder slowly approached her. "What's wrong?"
"Daniel," she said to the floor. "His touch."
"Did he hurt you?" Mulder's voice instantly filled with worry.
"No," Scully shook her head, still looking at the floor. "It just reminded me of what I'll never have again. And Pfaster…" she shivered at the mention of his name. "He will always be the last one…"
"No, he won't," Mulder objected. "You just need more time. You can't rush these things, Scully."
"It's not just that," Scully wiped her eyes, almost angry in her frustration. "Even if I could, why would anybody bother with me? I'm barren and damaged, what do I have to give? Tell me honestly, Mulder, would you want to deal with… intimacy issues of a… raped woman?"
It was dark and the floor was close enough to hide her shame, but she still shivered from embarrassment of even bringing this up with the only man she could imagine bringing it up with. There wasn't anybody else she could talk to, simply because nobody else knew. And she needed to tell someone…
"If I loved her, I would," Mulder said quietly, moving so close to her that she could feel his breath and hear his heart beat – it was beating that hard. "And I do. Love. Her."
"Oh god, Mulder," Scully gasped, covering her mouth with a hand. "That isn't what I asked!"
"I know," he nodded. "But it's still my answer. I don't want to scare you and I certainly don't expect anything from you… I just wanted you to know that you have that…"
"Mulder…" she sobbed now, trying to look at him, but her eyes were too full of tears and the room was dark enough that for a moment she thought he wasn't even real. Maybe this wasn't happening at all, maybe it was all in her head. Or in a dream that she didn't want to wake from. "I want it to be you. I… do. But I… I can't make you wait…"
"You can't stop me from waiting," he chuckled through his own tears.
"Oh Mulder," Scully lowered her forehead on his chest, and he gently brushed his fingers through her hair. "You deserve so much more... A family… A complete woman…"
"You know, Scully, on my last case in Vermont I was asked if I had a significant other and… I immediately thought of you. What would a perfect woman see in me, anyway? You are the one always on my mind and there's just no room for anybody else."
"So what was your answer?" Scully wondered.
"To what?" Mulder was confused.
"To the question about significant other," she reminded him.
"Oh," he smiled, lowering his mouth to her ear to be able to whisper to her. "My answer was: not in the wildly understood definition of that term."
It made her chuckle, which in turn made him chuckle too. He could stand there and whisper to her forever.
"Don't ever call my partner damaged or incomplete again," he gently warned her. "Okay?"
"Okay," she nodded.
"Okay?" he asked again, wanting to make sure.
"Okay," she repeated.
"Promise?" he placed his hands on the sides of her head, gently lifting it to get her to look at him. Her eyes never lied, so he needed confirmation from them as well.
"I promise," Scully said seriously, through a mixture of smile and tears.
They stayed like that for a while, gazing at each other, exchanging all the little things that couldn't be put in words. Their lips kept getting closer and closer, though neither of them was sure who was making the move. It all seemed to be happening automatically and effortlessly.
Then Scully yawned, breaking the magic of the moment. It didn't matter though, since the rest of the magic was just around the corner, and they had the rest of their lives to explore it. Together.
"I'm sorry," she apologized, but Mulder wasn't offended. He burst out laughing instead.
"You really need to get some sleep," he concluded. "Would you share a bed with me?"
Scully seemed hesitant, so he quickly added: "Platonically, I mean. If it's not too much too soon for you… You know what, I'll just sleep on the couch."
"No," Scully shook her head shyly. "I… I would like to…"
She was too tired and too nervous to finish the thought, so she started to take her clothes off instead. Mulder watched her undress until she was left in nothing but her underwear. Then she took that off as well.
She stood in front of him, naked and beautiful. Mulder followed her lead and got rid of his clothes, but he kept the boxers on, just in case. He wasn't sure how much she was ready to see and he didn't want to scare her.
It was cold and they both shivered. And it didn't matter.
Slowly, Scully approached him and finished what he started. Her hands were shaking as she pulled his boxers down, just to see if she could.
To her surprise, she discovered that she wasn't afraid. It wasn't awful. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. She brushed her hand through Mulder's pubic hair, not ready to do anything more, but it was enough to cause a moan and a reaction from him.
"I'm sorry," he whispered with closed eyes and she quickly covered his mouth with her hand.
"Don't be," she whispered back. "I trust you."
She let her hand slide down his chin, his neck, his chest… Then she wrapped her arms around him in an intimate hug, skin to skin.
"I love you," she said and he returned the hug, holding her tightly, as close as possible. His erection pressed on her stomach, but it didn't bother her. If he tried now, she wouldn't stop him, but she knew he wouldn't do anything until she was completely ready.
And even though she wasn't ready, there wasn't anything wrong with that.
Mulder's body may have reacted to her touch and he couldn't do much about that, but what he did, or more precisely didn't do with that was completely under his control. At that exact moment Scully realized, from the bottom of her being, that the same went for her.
What she knew in her mind all along finally reached her heart and the vail of guilt was raised from her soul. She felt it stop being impossible. The forgiveness. For what she couldn't control. For the worst, most disturbing orgasm in her life.
With a deep, loud sigh, she exorcised the monster from her soul.
Then the tears came. Flooding, violent, cleansing tears that she also couldn't and didn't want to control. She let it all out, safe in Mulder's embrace, who kept telling her that it's all right, over and over again, like he did on that terrible night of Pfaster's attack.
This time though, she believed him. With every fiber of her being, she believed him.
A day later:
Mulder woke up alone in his bed. He felt the emptiness of Scully's absence, but willing to respect her need to take time and figure out alone… whatever she needed to figure out alone.
When he arrived to the office she was already there and he kissed her good morning. In the lips. Like a lover. Or a friend. It didn't matter.
He was going to proceed with work as usual, as if nothing had changed, but Scully wanted to talk.
Because, after all, everything had changed.
"Last night," she said apologetically. "It shouldn't have happened."
Mulder could barely suppress a smile. Two steps forward, one step back. It became such a usual routine for them that he wasn't even bothered with it anymore.
"Relax, Scully," he said nonchalantly. "Nothing happened."
"Exactly," she agreed. "And that's not enough. Not for you! I know what kind of, um, tapes you watch and I would never even consider doing half of those things. I can't give you what you need."
"First of all, I don't watch that anymore."
"Since when?"
"Since Pfaster."
"Oh god, Mulder. It isn't… It can't be… Because of me?"
"Second of all, I don't need more phantasies. I need something real and nothing is more real than you."
"Mulder…"
"Third of all, when you say you are not willing to consider half of those things, does that mean you are willing to try the other half?"
"I… a… um…"
"But most of all, Scully, how do you know what's on those tapes?"
She couldn't help blushing. And laughing. And loving him. It all seemed so simple when she was with him, so natural and right. Doubts thrived in her mind only when she was alone. Mulder's presence efficiently dispersed them, one by one.
They were taking things slowly. But they were taking things. Nothing was standing between them anymore.
A week later:
"Will you be with me when I tell my mom?" Scully asked him. She didn't want to live a lie anymore. She didn't want to keep carrying the shame that wasn't hers to carry. What Pfaster did made him dirty, not her.
Mulder agreed. How could he refuse?
It was a very painful conversation. Lots of tears.
Lots of hugs.
And lots of healing.
Skinner was next. If she ever got triggered on the job, he needed to know why. He needed to know the risks, the problems and reactions that could arise and potentially compromise her ability to follow the protocols. Informing him was the adult and responsible thing to do, no matter how difficult and awkward.
And awkward it was! Assistant director was left speechless and pale. He certainly wasn't prepared to hear such a confession. Mulder watched him carefully, ready to jump if he did or said anything that would make Scully uncomfortable. He wasn't keen on sharing this with Skinner in the first place and his protective mode was on full alert.
As it turned out, there was no reason for worry. Their boss acted in a kind and professional manner. It took him a few coughs before he managed to speak again, but then he offered all the FBI resources and any personal help if Scully ever needed anything from him.
A month later:
"Would you go to a therapy session with me?"
It wasn't something that he particularly wanted, or wanted at all, but if it was important to her he was willing to try.
Maybe they couldn't solve everything alone.
And maybe they didn't have to.
A year later:
"What did you name him?"
"William. After your father."
The End
