Subject: Demon Within (PG-13)
Date: Sat, 13 Apr 1996

This story contains some adult subject matter.

Author does not have access to a.t.x.c

Demon Within
by Julianne Lee
qira@genie.geis.com

Scully looked up as the office door opened, and her
smile of greeting died on her face. "Mulder, you look awful!"
Mulder had no reply beyond a grunt. He went directly
to his desk and collapsed into the chair. His hair may have
been combed that morning, but without conviction and without
lasting effect. A lock of it fell over his face and he stared
into the middle distance as if deep in thought.
Scully sat up. "What happened to you?"
He peered at her, focusing with difficulty. "Huh?
"What happened?
A grimace twisted his face. "Whaddaya mean?"
Uncharacteristically terse. Scully was stung by the sneering
tone and sat back in her chair.
"Uh...nothing, I guess." She blinked, then turned
back to her work with as much grace as she could muster.
Monthly expense reports. A necessary evil, but the
bureaucratic mire of her job seemed unimportant. Her attention
wandered back to Mulder. She opened her mouth to speak, but
didn't get a sound out before he turned and snapped at her.
"_What?_"
Scully's mouth gaped like a fish. He'd never been
this impatient with her before, not even that day in Comity.
Finally she said, "Mulder, what's wrong?"
"I'm just tired, all right? I got lousy sleep last
night." He ran his fingers through his hair and his upper lip
curled.
"Maybe you should go back home..."
"_No!_" His eyes went wide and he looked like a
sulky little boy. Then he heard his own tone and it was his
turn to blink in surprise. He looked around his desk as if
searching for the reason he'd done that, then shut his mouth
and sat straight in his chair, busying himself with a random
stack of papers.
Scully was stunned into silence. It grew between
them until Mulder finally stopped fiddling and said, his voice
softened, "I'm sorry. I'm okay. Honest. I'm okay." He looked
at her with eyes that begged forgiveness.
Scully nodded, then went back to her work. The
numbers were suddenly meaningless, and her mind chewed on what
had just happened. Moody Mulder was nothing new. Every time
the guy found a new line on evidence concerning his sister,
he'd always gone just a little off. But this...this
was...different. He was hiding...something. Scully ached to
know what it was.
She forced herself to concentrate on the paperwork
in front of her. Lists of numbers: hotel charges, restaurant
charges, phone charges...the day-to-day business of chasing
aliens and investigating mutants was too prosaic for words.
Receipts lay scattered around her on her desk, and for a
moment she couldn't remember which pile was which. Damn.
Finally she allowed herself to look up.
Mulder was slipping something into his trash can and
shoved it deep into the bottom. Then he arranged the trash so
the thing was completely covered. Scully looked away before
Mulder could catch her watching. Something was very, very
weird.
All morning she dillied and dallied with her work,
unable to concentrate in any case, waiting for Mulder to leave
the office. He stayed, however, staring into space and not
getting much done. There was an attempt at a report, but the
computer tapping from his corner was even more sporadic than
his usual hunt and peck. At about noon, after a long silence,
Scully looked over and found him asleep, his chin resting on
his chest.
Poor guy. He really needed to go home and to bed.
"Mulder," she called to him, but softly. "Mulder, wake up. You
need to get some rest."
He awoke with a start and clutched the arms of his
chair. "Huh? Whuh?" Wild eyes darted every which way and sweat
broke out on him.
"Mulder, relax. It's just me. You need some sleep.
Why don't you go home?"
"No. Not home. Can't." He gathered himself and
straightened his clothes. Scully hadn't noticed his pants were
undone, but he buttoned and zipped them. Then he ran his
fingers through his hair. "No. Not home. What time is it?" He
looked over at the clock. "Lunch. Want some lunch, Scully?"
"You really should get some sleep."
"No. I'm going to get something to eat. I'll be back
in an hour." As he spoke he slipped his jacket on then headed
out the door without a glance back.
"Drive carefully," she said as the door closed
behind him.
Like a good little Special Agent, Scully waited a
full five minutes to be sure Mulder was really gone before she
would check out his trash can. Curiosity nearly killed her,
but she waited by the clock and didn't budge from her seat
until the minute hand had moved far enough. Then she went to
Mulder's trash can and reached down into it.
Her searching hand found a videotape and pulled it
out. _Women in Chains._ One of those tapes she liked to razz
him about. She reached into the can again and found the other
two tapes he kept in his desk.
Scully's forehead creased in a frown. All of them?
Surely he wasn't done with _all_ of them. At once? She opened
the drawer in his desk and found it empty. No new tapes. Huh.
She stuffed the cassettes back into the trash just
as they'd been, then returned to her desk. This was very
weird. Not that she particularly liked having pornography in
the office, but somehow tossing that stuff seemed just not
like Mulder.
Her partner didn't return to the office for the rest
of the day, and she hoped he was at home getting some sleep.
On impulse, she decided to cruise past his apartment on the
way home. Never mind that it wasn't on her way. She was
concerned and wanted to be sure he was okay.
On the street outside, she stopped her car and got
out. The sun had just set and she saw Mulder's apartment was
lit. Good, he was home. Maybe he was even asleep.
No, not asleep. As she watched the window, he backed
up to it. At least, that looked like him. But why was he
sitting on his desk? His back pressed against the glass panes,
he appeared to be struggling with something. Scully stood,
transfixed, on the sidewalk.
Then a pair of hands came around his sides and moved
up his back. A woman's hands. Scully smiled. So that was it!
Mulder had a girlfriend! Those hands smoothed his back, then
started to pull his shirt from his pants. He pushed the hands
away, but they insisted and his shirt came off. The arms went
around his neck for a long kiss. By Scully's watch it was a
full minute.
Well, Mulder seemed in good hands. Literally. Scully
returned to her car, and just before she left looked up at
Mulder's bare back in the window. The arms were somewhere else
now, and his head was leaning against the glass. His ribcage
was heaving for breath. Scully smiled again as she drove off.
The next morning she stifled a smirk as Mulder came
into the office looking much as he had the day before. "Rough
night?"
"I told you I haven't been sleeping well lately."
His voice was hoarse and he mumbled.
Her eyebrows went up. "Maybe you should tell your
girlfriend to stay home one night?"
"What girlfriend?"
She nearly laughed. "Come on, Mulder. You don't need
to hide her from me. You're an adult and you have an adult's
needs. I understand all that grown-up stuff."
"I don't know what you're talking about." The look
on his face wiped the smile from hers. He was serious.
"Weren't you with someone last night?"
He shook his head. "I took your advice and went home
to bed after lunch yesterday. I slept straight through to this
morning, and woke up feeling like I hadn't slept at all." He
peered at her. "Scully, why do you think I was with someone?"
"I saw..." She frowned, suddenly unsure of what
she'd seen. "I _thought_ I saw...well, it looked like you were
with a girl. I saw you backed up against your apartment
window."
Mulder's eyes went wide and it was his turn to let
out a laugh. "In the _window_? Come on, Scully, I know I
sometimes seem crazy to you but I hope we can operate under
the assumption I'm not _stupid_. In the _window_? I was asleep
on the couch all night last night."
"You don't look like you slept at all."
He ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't know
what's going on. I just know I've been waking up exhausted."
"Have you been to a doctor?"
"To tell him what? So he can give me some vitamins
or something? Naw, I've just got to get over it."
"Like you got over your tapes?"
He glanced at the trash can which had been emptied
the night before by the janitor. "Yeah, well..." His voice
trailed off and he slumped back into his chair. Then he looked
at her and grinned almost like normal again. "I got sick of
being ragged about them."
She chuckled. "Uh huh."
The rest of the day went slowly and Mulder's
concentration never improved. As the day wore on, his
exhaustion was more and more apparent and by the time he got
up to go home he was almost staggering. Scully watched him
collect his jacket and homework with a nagging in her gut that
he wasn't going to sleep well tonight, either.
It was exactly 11:21 that night when Scully jerked
awake at the sound of Mulder's voice. But nobody was there.
She sat up and looked around her dark bedroom. "Hello?"
Nobody. "Mulder?" Silence. She slid back under the covers and
closed her eyes.
That nagging in her gut made her open her eyes
again. What if Mulder wasn't okay? There were no such things
as prescient dreams, but that didn't mean there was no reason
to be worried about him. Her eyes closed again, but wouldn't
stay closed. They kept opening to stare into the darkness at
mental images of her partner in trouble. She slipped from her
bed and dressed quickly.
Mulder's apartment was unlit when she drove up. Most
of the windows in the building were dark. In the hallway,
Scully tapped on #42. "Mulder?"
No answer.
"Mulder?"
No answer. She was being silly. There was no reason
to believe anything was wrong with him.
But then she remembered how he'd looked in the
office that morning. There _was_ something wrong. She tried
the door. It was locked. Of course, it was. Mulder was, after
all, not stupid. She dug into her purse for the key he'd given
her last year and opened the door.
The interior was hot. No wonder he couldn't sleep in
this musty, humid place. And a strong, ugly smell invaded her
with every breath. As she made her way through the dimness,
the only light was what spilled from the streetlamp outside
and she peered around for the source of that smell. It was
familiar...musky...like...cut grass. As if someone had dumped
compost into the middle of...
Ejaculate. That's what it was. She put her hand over
her nose and mouth. Now she recognized the smell, though she'd
never in her life smelled it this strong. Her stomach turned.
No girlfriend? What was he doing with himself here at night,
anyway? Her eyes narrowed as she struggled to see exactly
where the semen was. The smell seemed to come from everywhere,
though, and she was afraid to touch anything lest she put her
hand on something sticky.
In the next room she found Mulder asleep on his
black leather couch, wearing only jockey shorts, his clothes
in a heap on the floor near his feet. Light from the fish tank
on a shelf near his head made a strange, watery glow on his
features. He was utterly unconscious, dead to the world. A
sheen of sweat covered him and his hair was plastered to his
face, his lips parted and his chest barely moving with
breaths.
Scully resisted the urge to slip quietly away; the
smell was making her gag. He was probably okay, but she had to
make sure. "Mulder?"
No reaction. She spoke louder. "_Mulder_."
He awoke with a start and a gasp. His eyes darted
this way and that, and when they found the shadow of Scully
standing over him he gave an unintelligible shout and
scrambled for his clothes.
She reached for the desk lamp. "Mulder, it's m..."
The light came on and she looked in time to see him pull his
gun from the pile of clothing and aim it at her. On reflex,
she hit the floor. "No!"
"Scully?" He wiped sweat from his eyes. "Scully,
what the hell are you doing here?" He turned the gun to the
ceiling, then put the safety on and laid it on the coffee
table.
"I just wanted to see if you were okay." She picked
herself up from the floor and looked around, afraid of what
she might see, but was stunned to find the room pristine
clean. Except for the pile of clothes, everything was in
perfect order. And the smell was gone, as if it had never been
there.
"Why?" He blinked in the unaccustomed light and
reached for his shirt.
"I..." She realized that anything she might say
would sound utterly ridiculous. "I...was worried about you.
You seemed ill today."
"I told you I haven't been sleeping well." His voice
took on his familiar dry humor, "So naturally you came to wake
me up."
Her cheeks began to burn and she couldn't look him
in the face. This was stupid. "I'm sorry. I just...you've been
acting so strangely lately..." He opened his mouth to speak,
but she headed him off, "...more strangely than _usual_, I
mean. I wanted to see if you were okay, and when I came
through the door there was this horrible smell." She took a
deep breath, "But it's gone now."
Mulder paused in buttoning his shirt. "What smell?"
His voice was wary, as if he were afraid of her answer.
"It was..." she blushed, then shrugged, "...um, it
was semen. As if a whole lot of it were covering everything in
the room."
Mulder blanched and continued buttoning his shirt.
Scully sighed and edged toward the door. "Well, I guess you
don't need me here. I'll just go on..."
"No. Stay."
She frowned. "Why?"
He grabbed his pants and pulled them on. Quickly he
stood and yanked them to his waist then fastened them.
"Scully, we need to talk." He checked the fly he'd just
fastened.
Her frown deepened and she crossed her arms.
Sometimes it was difficult to know just where her relationship
with Mulder stood. The line of professionalism was easy to
cross, especially where he was concerned, and she wasn't sure
hanging around here this late was such a good idea. Perhaps
coming here in the first place had been unwise. She watched
him check his fly again, and said, "Mulder, maybe this should
wait till morning."
"No, Scully. Please stay." His hand went to the
button on his pants once more.
"I really think I'd better go." As she spoke, she
watched his other hand check the same button yet again. She
turned to leave.
"No!" The desperation in his voice made her stop.
"You were right, there is something wrong. Scully," His voice
lowered till it was almost inaudible, "I think I'm being
assaulted by a succubus."
The word washed over Scully like a dream, and she
was suddenly jerked back with a reality check. "A _what_? You
can't be serious." She wanted to laugh, in the slim hope that
he was joking, but the look on his face was too terrified for
humor. Mulder truly believed he was being visited by demons.
His fingers lightly touched his zipper, then he clenched his
hands at his sides.
"Scully, I'm having these dreams. A woman comes to
me...a beautiful woman. She seduces me. Over and over. And
when I wake up..."
"Mulder, if this is a ruse of some sort..."
"_Scully!_" His eyes were wounded and she was
ashamed. "I didn't ask you to come here. You said you came to
see if I was all right. Now I'm telling you I'm _not_ all
right. Scully, these nightmares are killing me."
"Nightmares?" Her eyebrow raised.
"Yes. They're scaring the hell out of me. When I
wake up I feel like I haven't slept at all. And I'm...well, I
feel sore."
"Like you've been..."
"All night, Scully. And get this: when I went to
sleep tonight I was fully clothed. I've got no clue how my
clothes ended up on the floor."
He was frightening her. She fought off the
conviction that Mulder was losing his mind, but couldn't
accept his tale of demons, either. "You must have taken them
off in your sleep."
"Maybe. But did I do this, too?" He reached for his
zipper. Her eyes went wide and she started to look away, but a
frown from him made her realize how silly she was. With a sigh
she donned her clinical detachment and let him show her.
Carefully he pushed his slacks past his crotch, then peeled
the top of his shorts down far enough to reveal a bite mark on
his hip. A human bite mark.
Her jaw fell. "Mulder..." It was ugly and swollen. A
dark bruise surrounded a red line where the teeth had broken
the skin.
"I dreamed it last night, then when I woke up it was
real."
"You couldn't have dreamed this."
"I sure didn't do it _myself_!" His eyes were wide
with exasperation. "Scully, for once can't you believe me?"
"I believe you. I just don't believe you're correct
that a succubus did this. There are no such things as demons
who force sexual relations with men."
He restored his clothing, and tucked his shirt in
while he was at it. "Fine. Go."
"Listen..."
"No, Scully. I'll figure out how to deal with this
myself."
"You want an exorcist?"
"I don't _know_. I don't know what to do, Scully.
All I know is that if you can't help then I'm on my own." His
rising anger was palpable and his eyes flamed.
"I can't believe in demons for you."
He nearly shouted, "Then go. Get out."
"Mulder..."
"Get out!" he bellowed and swung his arm toward the
door.
For a moment, she stood, stunned. Never in the
entire time she'd known him had he yelled at her like that.
Something tore in her and tears threatened. But she swallowed
them and left the apartment.
Mulder didn't show up for work the next day. There
was a department meeting, and Scully sat, rigid, while others
in the room made snide comments about "Spooky." Her mind
wandered to her partner, wondering if he really had gone
around the bend this time. He certainly wasn't dreaming any of
it. She'd seen the bite mark. She'd seen the woman he'd been
with the night he'd been bitten. These were real encounters he
was having.
Could Mulder have a psychological problem with sex
that was causing him to delude himself into thinking he was a
victim? There were certainly stranger things recorded in the
annals of psychotherapy. But Scully hated to think Mulder was
finally losing his marbles.
After the meeting, she called his apartment but got
no answer. That nagging in her gut set up again, and she went
to check on him.
On the way there, she was stopped at a light and
looked up at the tall spire of a Catholic Church on the
corner. It was an old church, decorated with stone carvings
and intricate stained glass. Deep memories of childhood
stirred: tales of redemption and dark warnings of evil. Demons
had danced in her nightmares as a little girl. Church had been
the only place that had seemed safe from them until she'd
grown up and stopped believing in supernatural beings.
As if on automatic pilot, Scully pulled over next to
the church and got out of the car. What was she doing? She
didn't believe Mulder's story of demons. It was absurd to
think that something in his dreams could mark him physically.
He just had an over enthusiastic girlfriend, that was all.
Nevertheless, she went into the dim, silent church.
Deep carpeting bespoke a wealthy congregation. Luminous
paintings portrayed a gentle Jesus and his loving mother. They
were symbols of a protected life where she'd felt secure, and
where she'd been instilled with a conviction that she lived in
an organized universe.
That security she'd lost a little over a year ago,
when suddenly questions regarding reality had been raised in
her. What had she witnessed during that lost time? She
couldn't remember. But she knew it had been evil. Evil did
exist. Demons might not be the answer, but evil did exist.
One quick glance around suggested she was alone. She
reached into her purse for the small aspirin vial she kept,
and shook out the two tablets left in it. Those tablets she
slipped into her jacket pocket. Quickly she dipped the vial
into the holy water, snapped the cap, and slipped the vial
back into her purse. Another quick look around told her she'd
not been observed. Having accomplished the deed, and none too
proud of it, she ducked her head and hurried from the church.
Mulder's apartment was dark when she arrived. Darker
than it should have been, given the sunny day outside. Even
with the curtains open, the sunlight seemed to die once it
entered the room. Also, the stench was back, stronger than
ever. Scully had to put a hand over her mouth. Breathing
through her mouth, she could almost taste the smell.
As she stood in the outer room, wondering just what
to do next, Scully heard sounds coming from further inside the
apartment. Moans. It was Mulder, but she couldn't tell if he
was in pain or ecstasy. She stood like a deer in headlights,
torn between sneaking away and going on in. Her rational
sensibilities told her she must be interrupting something
private, but then she remembered the bite mark and the
terrified look on Mulder's face the day before. She stepped
into the inner room.
Mulder was draped across the arm of his couch, head
hung over the side, his mouth open. He seemed unconscious. The
white shirt he'd had on the day before was open and dangling
from his limp arm to the floor. A dark-haired woman knelt over
him, straddling his legs, and was in the middle of unzipping
his pants when Scully entered. Just as she was about to yank
the slacks from his hips, she looked up.
Scully cleared her throat. "What are you doing?" The
extreme stupidity of her question was not lost on her, but
Mulder's appearance justified it. He seemed drugged, and
turned his head to her. "Wha...?"
The woman jumped to her feet and faced Scully.
"What's it look like I'm doing?" The grin was red, and the
eyes glittered in the dim light. She was beautiful, like a new
blade. Clean, shiny, and sharp enough to make one bleed at the
slightest touch. "Get out of here. He wants me."
Scully grimaced. "I think you'd better leave."
Mulder stirred on the couch, trying to sit up but
very weak. His deathly pallor made Scully shudder. "Scul..."
he said.
The woman spun and knocked him with the back of her
fist. He went flying and collapsed on the couch, out cold.
Scully reached for her gun, but it shuddered in her
hand. She was unable to keep hold of it and it slipped from
her grasp. It clunked to the floor, but when she stooped to
pick it up she couldn't find it among the deep shadows. Surely
it was there somewhere, but her searching hand found nothing
where her gun should have been. Crouched on the floor, she
looked up at the approaching figure.
"He's mine," the woman with the flashing eyes and
hair of darkness said in a hollow voice.
"He's not." Scully's hand went to her purse. Her
skin crawled at sight of this creature.
"You don't want him. He's mine."
"I..." A strange sensation came over Scully. Want
him? He was her partner; she already _had_ him. In ways this
monster couldn't comprehend. Ways that involved trust, respect
and caring. She said, "I won't let you have him."
"Too late." The creature let out a cackle of
victory.
"Not too late." Scully's hand found the aspirin vial
and her thumb flipped the cap. "He lives." She pulled the vial
from her purse and tossed the holy water at the woman.
A shriek filled the apartment as the drops hit white
flesh. She threw up her arms and her eyes flamed.
Scully stood, ready to fight, but a sudden flash of
light blinded her. Through closed eyelids, she could make out
the bones in her hand as she fended the glare. Piercing pain
seared her brain, and she felt her knees buckle just before
the universe went black.
She awoke with a thudding headache. Through the pain
she could hear Mulder calling to her. His voice was weak, and
when she opened her eyes she saw him leaning over her. She was
lying on his couch, and he sat on the coffee table next to
her. He looked like death, his eyes rimmed with red and sunk
into dark sockets, but some color had returned to his cheeks.
"Scully..." He sounded relieved that she was alive.
"Mulder...where is she?" The room seemed sunny, and
the smell was gone. The woman was nowhere in sight.
"Gone. She disappeared. Forever, I think. I can't
feel..."
"She ran away?" Scully looked toward the door which
stood open.
"No, I mean, she's gone." He tapped his chest.
"She's not coming back."
"You can't believe..."
"I do. Trust me, Scully, she's gone."
Looking into his sincere eyes, she smiled. Whoever
that woman had been, Scully was willing to accept that she
wouldn't be back. Mulder could keep his secure fantasy that
evil had been vanquished. She laid a hand aside his face and
he smiled. A small part of her wished she could have some of
his faith. He certainly had enough for them both.

end