Date: Tue, 16 Jun 1998

Title: "Ambivalence II"
Author: tyger1013
Classification: SA
Rating: R (with one short and clearly marked NC-17 scene)
Spoilers: None
Keywords: Mulder/Scully UST, rape
Summary: Continuation of "Ambivalence I"; Mulder struggles to recover.
Archive: Yes, just please let me know before you post it somewhere.

Thanks to Ashlea and Darkstryder for all their suggestions, and I
discovered Pellinor's Deep Background site, which is very helpful.

Disclaimer: The Mulders and Scullys belong to Chris Carter and Ten
Thirteen Productions. Used without permission; I will never make a cent
off of this story...Wait! No! You can't haul me away! Roswell!
Roswell!!

WARNING: Well, this one isn't really graphic, but it does deal with the
after-effects of rape, so...if you can't read that stuff, this isn't the
story for you...However, if you made it through "Ambivalence I", you
should handle this one okay. I have marked off the short NC-17 section
with @@@@ signs...see "Amb. I" for disclaimer about that.

Please, please, e-mail me with your comments; flames will be ignored.
tyger1013@yahoo.com

About story: This one is a continuation of "Ambivalence I". You really
need to read the first one,or this one won't make much sense...

(Imagine Chris Carter's voice here): "Previously, on 'The X-Files'" (he
he): Mulder just stormed out of Dr. Sawyer's office after telling her
off...

"I'm sorry, Scully.", he whispered, barely audibly.

The road rushed by quietly as the car headed back to Maggie Scully's
house.

"Mulder, you don't have to apologise for that." She sighed with
sadness. "There are so many things you don't have to apologise for. I
wish you didn't blame yourself for things that have never been your
fault."

He only lowered his head to look at the hands folded in his lap.

"Talking with Dr. Sawyer will get a lot easier...it just may take some
time."

More silence.

"And you're not getting out of it, either," she added. "I don't care
how hard you try. I know all your little tricks, and they're not
working this time." She tried to smile. It was as playful as she could
manage right now. It had been so difficult for her to maintain their
usually joking way of communicating. And Mulder certainly wasn't
contributing. <Come to think of it, he's not contributing ANYTHING to
this conversation. He has yet to say a word since we left the office,
with the exception of "I'm sorry," which doesn't count. He doesn't seem
like he's even in the car...he's somewhere else entirely.>

"Mulder, you're gonna have to answer me here; I'm tired of talking to
myself. I'm not that interesting."

She was answered with silence again, blank stares, shallow breathing.

"Mulder." She raised her voice enough to make him jump and come back to
the seat beside her. He finally looked at her, but still returned no
words. He stared at her with tired eyes, waiting for her to ask
whatever it was that was so important.

"You there? Hello?"

"What?"

"He speaks! I was beginning to wonder if your voice still worked."

He continued to stare at her with That Look...the one she would come to
know so well. Sad, exhausted eyes, begging her to let him go away back
to whatever place he went that was so far inside of himself. She gave
up.

"Okay, Mulder." She patted his hand and turned the radio on a low
volume.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maggie heard the key turn in the door and greeteed the two as they
entered the kitchen. "Hi, there. You're back soon. How did it go?"

"Don't ask," Scully answered with a knowing smile, tossing her keys on
the kitchen table and falling in a chair with a heavy sigh.

Mulder just stood there leaning on his crutches.

"Fox, are you okay?"

"Mulder." She used a sharp tone that would become second nature to her
soon.

He jumped again and Maggie was introduced to That Look. Her heart
dropped to her stomach and she went to his side and asked, "Fox? What
is it?"

He stared at his feet dejectedly and finally answered. "Nothing."

Maggie wasn't sure what was going on, so she looked to Dana.

"He's okay, Mom." She sent her mother a look that told her she'd
explain later.

"I think I'm gonna take a nap. I'm tired."

"Okay. I guess we'll leave for home tonight after dinner."

"Okay," he muttered on his way to his room.

The two sat in silence for a few minutes. Scully spoke first. "It's
like he's not here. He goes somewhere inside himself and if I manage to
pull him out, he just looks at me with this face, like I'm just killing
him or something. So I just let him go back."

"Maybe that's the only way he can handle things right now."

"Yeah, I guess....But I hate it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mulder sat on the side of the bed and set his crutches on the floor. He
pulled down the covers with nervous anticipation, unable to wait any
longer for the protective warmth that the blankets offered him. He
snuggled in and ground his back safely into the wall, grabbed the extra
pillow to hold on to , and settled in for his much appreciated nap. He
was so happy to be alone after the ordeal earlier that day that he fell
asleep unusually quickly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Someone was shaking him. He opened his eyes sleepily and was surprised
that it was dark.

"Hi, there. It's 6 o'clock. Dinner will be ready soon."

"Okay," he slurred.

Scully flipped on the lamp and returned to the kitchen.

Dinner was quiet, and Mulder began thinking again. He didn't like that.
<How could I do that? How could I want my father dead? But what he
did--No, what he did was my fault. Because I just took it the wrong
way. I thought it was something bad but it wasn't. He didn't intend it
that way. I was such a terrible child to think something so sick about
my own father. I'm so warped. But I know he was wrong, I know!
Arrgh!>

"I'm finished. I'm full."

"But you've barely eaten anything," Scully remarked.

"I'm full."

"Mulder..." She was getting frustrated.

"No," he snapped.

She closed her eyes and tried to ease her anger. "Okay."

"I'll go pack." Mulder got up and returned to his room. As he packed
his bag, the thoughts began to race again and chase their own tails.
When he picked up his watch from the bedstand, his hand paused next to
the bottle of painkillers. He flipped the cap off and swallowed two
with the stale water still on the table. He replaced the cap and tossed
the bottle in the top of his bag.

He returned to the kitchen and sat at the table as Maggie and Scully
were cleaning up. "Mrs. Scully, thank you for taking care of me."

Maggie looked up form the sink and turned curiously to look at Mulder.
"It was my pleasure, Fox. You're welcome here anytime." She smiled
warmly.

"I...I'm sorry for not being too nice lately."

"It's okay. I understand." She dried her hands and went to kiss the
top of his head. "I still love you."

His dead expression that he had carried all day broke and several tears
slid down his cheeks. Maggie knew he was embarrased about his recent
sensitivity, and she returned to her clean-up.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Scully said goodbye to her mother and took her and Mulder's bags to the
car. They soon left and Mulder sat quietly in the passenger seat. The
pills started to work, quickly because of his empty stomach. His head
began to feel heavy and he felt a seductive warmth behind his eyes. The
thinking stopped. Just comforting warmth. Quiet. Finally. No
thoughts. No shame. Just...nothing. He smiled.

Scully was saying something, but whatever it was he didn't really care.
"Sleep, Scully...s'eep....I'gonn' s'eep," he slurred through his drugged
haze, then gave up.

"You just took a nap, Mulder--" She noticed he was already gone and
went silent.

When they arrived home, Sculy tried to wake Mulder. It took a few
tries, but he sleepily opened his eyes.

"Come on. Get up. We're home."

"I don' wan' get up."

"Get up." <"Get up, Dad.">

"I don' care."

"Please? Get up." <"Please, Dad? Please?">

"Get up. PLEASE."

"Lea' me alo." <"PLEASE get up, Dad!" "Leave me alone, Fox.">

<OH_MY_GOD>

His expression changed dramatically to one ofshock.

"You okay?"

"Huh? Yeah." He started to get out of the car.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He could hear Scully getting ready for bed. He stared at the
prescription bottle he had retreived from his bag and thought carefully.
<I can't believe it. Just like Dad. I swore to myself I'd never, ever
be like him. I never drink. I hate it. I hate what it did to my
father and how it ruined my childhood. I hate it. But, oooh, I want
these pills so bad, so bad. I want them to take away this confusion.
'Cause I can't stand it anymore, I can't! So many things swirling
around, making me hate myself. I just want them to go away! And feel
that heavenly warmth and oblivion...> His hand popped the top off and
put a couple of pills in his mouth. He filled the bathroom glass with
water and drank it down.

"Mulder, do you--"

Smash! The glass shattered on the floor, looking all too much like the
way Mulder felt. His mouth hung open in guilty shock.

Scully's eyes darted about the room looking for the source of Mulder's
expression. They rested on the prescription bottle "What's that?"
<"Mulder, Fox. Take one for pain every 3-4 hours. Tylenol #3 300/60">
"What are you taking--" Piecing together the facts, she came very close
to passing out.

"Did you swallow that?!"

Her voice became quiet now. Fear had swiftly kicked anger out the door.
"Why did you do that, Mulder?"

With her change in tone, Mulder finally came out of his shock.
"I...I...", he stammered.

"Mulder, come sit down." She led him to his room and helped him onto
the bed, then pulled up a small chair in front of him and caught his
eyes. "Tell me," she spoke softly.

He quickly pulled away from her intense gaze and looked down as he
struggled to explain himself. Treacherous thoughts swirled through his
brain like a tornado and ripped him apart, scattering splinters
everywhere. "I just..." Tears of frustration burned his eyes. "I just
WANT IT TO GO AWAY! Scully, the thoughts won't go away. I'm so so
confused and ashamed and I'm angry and terrified and it won't leave me
alone, Scully, it won't leave me alone!" He was ranting now, controlled
by his overwhelming anger, and thrashing his arms wildly about.

Scully grabbed his wrists and held his arms down. "Stop. Mulder.
Stop."

The energy that was diverted into his arms couldn't get out anymore, and
with his distraction taken away form him, the pain pierced him to the
core.

His tortured wail sliced through Scully, and she sat next to him as he
fell into her lap. "Mulder, those pills aren't going to take that away.
If you don't face your feelings and let them go, they'll just fester
there. And they'll get worse and worse as time goes on. Then, one day,
when you can't take those pills anymore, you'll be facing a monster 100
times bigger than the one you are now."

"I don't care! I don't want to face it. I want to hide somewhere away
from this. I'm so scared, Scully. I'm so scared. I want this all to
leave me the fuck alone. Make it go away, Scully. PLEASE!" His voice
was cut off by the sobbing that took control of his body.

A tear of helplessness trickled down her face and fell into his dark
hair. She could barely get the words out of her mouth. "I can't,
Mulder. I'm so sorry, but I can't do it for you."

His body only continued to quake.

"I'll help you, though. I promise. I'll be right here for whatever you
need. Please remember that."

Eventually, the pill took effect, and Scully put him to bed. The drug
dropped him into a dreamless sleep, so the next morning he awoke
thankfully to dry sheets.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Scully, let me go to work, please."

"No, Mulder. You're on mandatory leave. I'm not taking you in."

"I HAVE to go, Scully. I have to get away fror this. It's driving me
CRAZY. Please."

"But you're not...Okay, but I want you to stay at the office, okay? You
can come to keep yourself busy, but you're not allowed to do any
official work, remember?"

"Oh, thank you, Scully. Thank you!" He rushed to get dressed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was bored and restless. Scully was out for a couple of hours until
she would return to take him to his appointment with Dr. Sawyer. He was
looking through some files when, without warning or reason, the scene
with Krycek came flooding back to him. The hands, he couldn't stop the
hands. <Oh, stop. Please. Pleeaase...Don't. No. No. No. Help I'm
scaredI'msoscaredsomebodyhelpmesomeonesavemefromthisHELP! Oh, I feel so
ashamed and it feels so bad and so good. I don't want it to feel good.
I shouldn't be feeling this way. I'm so bad. I'm so bad.>

Scully returned to the office. "Mulder? Where'd you go? It's time to
leave." She listened and heard some quiet noises coming from Mulder's
area. "Mulder? Are you here?" She looked around and walked behind his
desk. She heard frantic breathing coming from under the desk, and she
knelt down. "Mulder?" She spoke in a quiet voice, so as not to scare
him.

He eyed her with a feral gaze, trembling and breathing raggedly.

"It's okay. Mulder, do you know where you are?"

He didn't answer her, and she wasn't sure he could see her.

"Mulder, it's me. It's Scully."

More of the same.

She reached out to his hand that held his knees to his chest
protectively. He jumped at first, then seemed to return to reality as
he looked around him and noticed where he was.

"Scully?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"What am I doing under my desk?"

"I don't know, Mulder."

"How long have I been here?"

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"I think it was around 12."

"It's 1:30."

"Oh, God."

"Well, you need to get up. It's time to leave for your appointment."

He crawled out of his foxhole and they left for the office.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Are you feeling better today?"

He looked down with shame. "I'm sorry. I'm usually not like that."

"It's okay. I'm used to things like that. So what has been going on?"

Guilt swam around in his mind.

"Why don't you tell her, Mulder?"

"Yesterday, I...I took a few pills."

"What kind of pills?"

"Painkillers."

"I take it you didn't take them for your ankle."

"No, I didn't."

"How many?"

"Two of the high dose Tylenol 3's after dinner and then two more later."

"Why did you do that?"

"The thinking. I can't stop it. It won't go away, and it's driving me
insane. I'm so confused. It's like...I feel two opposite ways. About
a lot of stuff. I feel one way but I feel the opposite way just as
much."

"Explain."

"Uh...it's like I'll hate something, but I'll love it too. Or I'll know
something is my fault, but I'll know it's not. And I can't stop going
back and forth. It's like playing a tennis match with myself, except
I'm not allowed to stop."

"What's your fault?" Her voice was soft.

He turned red. It hurt. He was scared. He crouched into his chair.

"It's all right. You can tell me."

He remained quiet.

"Mulder, come on. We're not going to think you're screwed up." Scully
tried to encourage him.

"I--I don't want to--"

"You can say anything here...Do you want Scully to leave?"

"No," he resopnded quickly. "No, don't leave."

"Okay. I wont."

"What is your fault?"

<It hurts.> He looked up at the woman, begging her with his eyes to let
him get away without an answer. But she wouldn't give in.

"My dad...he did stuff to me, but I took it the wrong way."

"What kind of stuff?"

He shifted restlessly in his chair. <I'm scared. I'm scared.> "Just
stuff at night."

Dr. Sawyer waited, nodding for him to continue.

"And I took it the wrong way. But he didn't mean it that way, and I'm
so bad, I'm so bad for thinking that way."

"What way?"

"I thought it was wrong."

"Wrong how?"

"It felt bad."

"Bad?"

"Creepy."

<Tell me, Mulder.>, she said with her eyes.

Mulder looked helplessly to Scully, pleading with her to get him out of
this.

She rested her hand on his. "It's okay, Mlder. You can say it."

He looked down again and began rubbing his sneaker into the carpet. <It
hurts, it hurts. I'm scared.> "I thought it was something...well,
sexual." His voice sped up frantically, "But it wasn't it really
wasn't I just took things the wrong way he didn't mean it that way I
just--"

"Why are you defending him?"

"I'm not defending him."

"Okay, why are you taking the blame for it?"

"I'm not. It's simply my fault. I perceived it the wrong way, and I
think I'm just a perverted person."

"How old were you when this started?"

"Four."

"Four? Do you really think a four year old is capable of that?"

"I was."

She thought a moment. "Okay. I'm giving you an assignment. I want you
to go to a busy playground and watch some four year old boys."

"Why?"

"Don't worry about that. Just do it."

"Uh...okay."

"All right. I won't make you stay any longer today...unless there's
something else you want to talk about?"

"No, definitely not."

Scully smiled.

"Okay, I'll see you on Monday. I want you to go to the playground from
here. It's late afternoon and should be busy with plenty of four year
olds."

"All right."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They sat quietly on the grass near the swing set in the park. A
partcular boy caught Mulder's eye. He was about four, with dark hair.
The boy jumped about the playground with glee; angelic and playful
smiles lit up his eyes. <He's so innocent. So beautiful. How could
anyone do to him what my father did to me?> It began to sink in what
Dr. Sawyer's purpose had been. <A child this age is not capable of such
sick perversion that I believe I was.> Tears fell.

Scully knew what he had seen in the boy, and she put a supportive arm
around his shoulder.

Mulder's thoughts soon returned. <But I was DIFFERENT. I was. I
wasn't like most four year olds. I was bad.> He pulled away from
Scully abruptly and trudged back to the car.

He was slow on the crutches, so she stopped him before he got very far.
"What did you see in that little boy, Mulder?"

His eyes were cast sadly downward, and he leaned against an oak tree.
"He's so innocent and beautiful, Scully. How could anyone..." He
sighed.

"Do you see? Do you see how innocent you were?"

"No."

"You don't?"

"No."

"Why?"

"'Cause I was different."

"Different how?"

"There was something wrong with me."

"What, Mulder? What do you think was so wrong with you?" she reached
up to brush a lock of hair from his eyes.

"I was really sick, Scully."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Because you thought your dad was molesting you?"

He turned a darker shade of red and backed further into the tree.

"It's all right, Mulder," she spoke softly.

"I was wrong."

"You were four years old. Four year olds don't make up things like
that."

"I know. And that's why I'm so bad, because I was so sick that I
thought that about my dad when I was only four."

She knew she couldn't win right now. He would have to discover this in
his own way, in his own time. She couldn't force him to believe
anything.

"Okay...I believe with all my heart that you are the most pure and
wonderful person I have ever known. But I'll let you believe what you
need to."

He looked up at her with eyes full of tears. "It's not that I need to
believe it, Scully. It's true."

The assertion made her wince. She pulled him close to her and hugged
him tight. "You're not bad, Mulder. You're not, I promise. I love you
and I would never lie to you just to make you feel better. I promise."
Her hands rubbed his back slowly, and he cried noiselesssly into her
hair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Only the sound of forks clinking on plates could be heard at the dinner
table. Mulder picked at his food, swirled some spinach around on his
plate, mixed it with some mashed potatoes. His milk remained untouched,
and the chicken was marked only by tiny fork stabs.

"Mulder, please eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"I know, but you have to eat something."

"Please, Scully. Don't make me."

"I won't let you get up till you eat at least half of that."

He sighed dejectedly and painfullly lifted a string of spinach from his
plate. When he put it in his mouth his face contorted like he was being
stretched on the rack.

A smile crept onto Scully's lips. "Mulder, it's not that bad. I
thought you liked spinach."

"I do. I just don't want to eat."

After several bites, he began stealthily pushing his food together,
trying to make it appear that he had eaten more than he had.

Scully gave up.

~~~~~~~~~~

"NO! STOP! DON'T!"

Scully was quickly at his side. "Mulder, wake up."

He started and looked around him wildly. "Scully?"

"Yeah. A dream."

His breathing was heavy and he felt damp. "NO NO NO! FUCKING HELL!"

She brought her hand up to his back. "It's all right, Mulder."

"Scully, why do I keep doing this?! My God, what the hell is wrong with
me?" He fell into sobs of hopelessness.

"Mulder, you've been traumatised. It's thrown you off balance. But
you'll get better; just be patient with yourself."

"What's wrong with me, Scully?" he groaned as he buried his head into
her shoulder.

She pet his silken hair lovingly. "Nothing, sweetheart. There is
nothing wrong with you. You're just having some trouble. You'll get
better, I promise. There's nothing wrong with you."

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was Saturday, and Scully was trying to think of something to keep
Mulder busy. She looked over to the corner of the sofa where was
nested. "Do you want to go to a movie today, Mulder?"

He didn't answer. He was looking at the TV but was focused on some
point beyond it. "Mulder," she snapped, to shake him out of it, and she
was met with That Look.

"Do you want to go to a movie?"

He flinched as he was forced to focus on reality. "I guess."

"I'll get the paper."

They went to a movie that afternoon, immersing themselves in flickering
frames, slurping straws and crunching popcorn. Both of them desparately
needed the diversion.

The weekend was difficult for both of them. Scully tried to keep them
both busy with as many excursions as she could think of, but the the
nights were the same as they always were, a stark reminder of what had
happened the week before, and, worse, years and years before.

Sunday they took a picnic to a park and then left to visit the art
museum. This trip seemed to have a calming effect on Mulder's recently
frayed and shredded nerves. They even enjoyed a quiet dinner at
Scully's favourite restaurant. Afterwards, they went next door for some
ice cream.

Scully ordered a Rocky Road cone while Mulder gleefully licked at his
chocolate chip scoop.

"It's nice to see you relax some, Mulder," she told him as they sat at
one of those obnoxiously bright and rock hard tables thtat ice cream
shoppes always have.

"Thanks, Scully. For keeping my mind off of things this weekend...I
wanted to crawl into my cave and brood, like I usually do when I'm not
feeling well."

"When do you ever do that?" A playful smile lit up her face.

Mulder concentrated on the woman before him. <I love it when she's like
this...Playful and happy...unaware of the chocolate ice cream smeared on
her face.> Smiling sweetly back at her, he wiped the wonderful patch of
ice cream from her cheek.

"Oops," she grinned, realising her messiness.

Mulder only smiled lopsidedly back at her until she picked up her keys.

"Okay, let's go home."

"There's a group I want you to go to, Mulder."

He eyed Dr. Sawyer suspiciously. "What kind of group?"

"Group therapy. One for survivors of sexual abuse."

Mulder looked down and groaned. "Do I have to?"

"No. You don't have to do any of this."

"Well, I kinda do...counseling is mandatory for me."

"Well, for now this is an option for you. I won't write it up as
something you have to do, unless something serious comes up. I think
it's important for you to be able to make the choices in your own
recovery. It's incredibly important for you to be allowed to say 'no'
and have someone respect that right."

He liked her. "Thank you."

She smiled.

"Okay...I guess I'll go."

"You'll have to go by yourself, though. Scully can't come."

"Yeah, I know."

"Well, you're in luck, 'cause the group meets this afternoon."

A sarchastic smile crossed his lips. "Lucky me."

A giggle escaped Scully.

~~~~~~~~~~

After lunch, Scully drove Mulder back to the center. She stopped at the
front door, but Mulder didn't make any moves to get out of the car. The
engine hummed loudly in the silence.

"You nervous?"

"Yeah."

"You'll be okay. I know you."

He looked back at Scully and was met with an encouraging smile. He
sighed heavily. "Okay. I'm going."

"I'll pick you up at 3."

"Bye, Scully."

Grateful for the excuse his crutches gave him to be slow, he trudged
down the hallway as if walking down death row. He caught the elevator
to the third floor and took his time getting to the room. He breathed a
sigh of relief when he found the door open so that he wouldn't draw a
lot of attention to himself struggling to open it and get through. He
entered with his head down.

"Hi, there. You must be Mulder."

Mulder fell with a thump into the chair closest to the door. "Yeah."

"Hi. I'm Scott. Annie just called to tell me you were coming."

He noticed there were three other men in the room, and he eyed them
carefully. As soon as he had inspected them, another two came through
the door and made him jump. They all introduced themselves to him, and
their friendliness was rough on his nerves; he didn't want to have to
respond to anybody.

A few minutes and one more intrusion of a late group member later, the
group began. A kid about 18 named Ethan explained the group to him.
"This is a place where we can talk to people that understand what we're
going through. Everything that is said here stays here. And you're
allowed to say anything you want."

Mulder glared uncertainly through the hair that hung into his eyes.
Since the incident with Krycek, he had become very scared of men. The
assault had brought up a lot of feelings about his father, and he was
nervous around all men lately.

"Could you tell us a little about yourself?", Scott asked.

He shifted in his chair and spoke very quietly. "I'm an agent with the
FBI. I work on paranormal and unsolved cases." He watched them give
him a look asking to explain a little more.

Reluctantly, he added another sentence, hoping that would be enough for
them. "My therapist thought I should come here." He was surprised when
they left him alone. A couple of them talked about what had been going
on the last several days. Then the man who had come in late spoke. He
was in his 40's and told Mulder his name was Bill. Mulder felt his
muscles tense up and his heart began to race. His breathing all but
stopped. <I have to get out of here I have to get out of here now>

Scott had noticed Mulder's panic and asked him what was wrong. When he
received no response, he raised his voice. Mulder looked up.

"What happened?", Scott asked him.

"What do you mean?"

"You seem really tense all of a sudden. What's wrong?"

His voice was shaking now. "Uh, I don't...no." He shook his head.

The counselor looked confused. "'No', what?"

"Huh?"

"I asked you what's wrong."

"Nothing...I just...nothing, I'm fine."

"You can tell us."

"I SAID NOTHING'S WRONG, GODDAMMIT!!" As soon as the words came out of
his mouth he felt badly and hunched over in his chair. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine. You can yell if you want to."

"Please, just leave me alone right now."

"Okay, you can just listen."

He was okay for about 20 more minutes, when a man named Conor started
describing what his father would do to him. Mulder didn't ike hearing
those certain words like "penis" and "stroking me", and things like
that. He began to panic. He gave up trying to be brave and a "good
patient," and he got up to leave. "I'm sorry. I gotta go."

"Okay."

He tried as fast as he could to get outside. He found a bench
underneath a tree where he sat to wait for Scully.

Knowing Mulder as well as she did, she arrived early to pick him up, and
parked the car when she saw him alone on the bench. As she walked up to
him, she noticed the wildness in his eyes and his laboured breathing.
"Hi, there. How did it go?"

He looked up at her with a pained expression, and she saw his hazel eyes
swimming with unshed tears.

"You gonna be okay?"

He caught his breath fast enough to warn her. "I think I'm gonna puke."

Scully jumped out of the line of fire just in time as Mulder threw up
what little he had eaten, but the bulk of the mess was burning acid that
made him choke.

Scully rubbed his back as Mulder choked up whatever he had left and
struggled to regain his breath.

"What happened in there?"

"I just...", he coughed, "I just got freaked out. I...Scully, I feel
like such a damn wimp. I'm scared of men, now. Being in there
surrounded was so frightening. I guess the last straw was hering
someone talk...about it."

Scully squeezed her arm around his shoulder. "It must have been hard to
hear that."

"I don't want to her about it, Scully. I can't."

"Come on. Let's go home."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

When they arrived back at Scully's house, Mulder called his answering
machine to check his messages. The Lone Gunmen had called to report
their latest conspiracy updates. After the beep, he heard his mother's
voice. "Fox, it's your mother. I need you to call me when you get
home. Goodbye."

Scully watched as Mulder's face fell, and waited until he hung up to ask
him what was wrong.

"My mother left a message."

"About what?"

"I don't know. I need to call her."

He nervously dialed his mother's number.

"Hello."

"Hi, Mom. It's me."

"Hi, Fox."

"I got your message...What's wrong?"

"You didn't call me on my birthday Friday, Fox."

He was attacked by familiar guilt. "Oh, Mom. I'm so sorry."

"I didn't even get a card form you."

"I'm sorry, Mom."

"You're my only child now, Fox. Do you have any idea how selfish you
are to forget your mother when you're her only child left?"

The words killed his soul and he fell into the couch. <I'm such a
selfish bastard. I lost her daughter, and now I can't even handle a
simple responsibility like this. She hates me. I'm such a terrible
son.>

"I just wanted to remind you, Fox. I need to go now."

"I'm sorry Mom, I--" The phone clicked in his ear, and he let the phone
fall from his trembling hand.

"What is it, Mulder?"

His sigh added significant weight to the room. "I forgot my mother's
birthday."

Resisting the urge to call his mother back and give her a piece of her
mind, Scully sat by his side. "Mulder, it's not your fault. You've
been through so much this past week. You're using all your strength
just to get by right now. It's perfectly understandable that you would
forget something like that."

"Scully, she's my MOTHER. I'm her only one left, and I can't forget
something like that. I have so much to make up for," he lamented with a
dejected sigh.

"What do you have to make up for, Mulder?"

"Samantha. My dad. So much, Scully, so--"

"Stop. No. Losing Samantha was not your fault....Dammit, Mulder, why
can't you REALISE that? Why does evrything have to be your fault?!
God, would you just stop that! It's driving me nuts!" Becoming aware
of what she had said, she looked into Mulder's eyes, which resembled a
beaten dog. "I'm sorry...What's this about your dad?" She held his
hand to get his attention, and spoke in a calming voice. "That wasn't
your fault. You believe that because it's what he told you. He didn't
want to be responsible for what he did, so he made you believe it was
your fault. It wasn't, Mulder. Please believe that." But Scully knew
how weak and small her words seemed to him against the enormous and
ferocious monster of guilt that had grown for over 35 years.

Mulder glanced at her with tired eyes that told her that he wanted to
believe...but that he didn't.

Scully knew it was time to change the subject. "What do you want for
dinner?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Scully was taking a bath before dinner, and Mulder stretched out on the
sofa. He didn't notice he had fallen asleep until he heard her
shuffling around the kitchen, boiling water and cutting up vegetables.
He opened his eyes and watched her as she milled about, unaware of him.
He didn't get to see her like this very often, in sweats and little
white socks, cooking dinner. He enjoyed his opportunity of stealing a
moment like this. As a contented smile crossed his lips, Scully noticed
he was awake, and she took the moment from him. "Hi, there."

"Hi."

"Good nap?"

"Yeah." <I wish I could wake up like this all the time.> His face
saddened a bit, and he lifted himself off the couch to help Scully with
dinner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"No, Scully, I don't want to go to bed. If I sleep during the day, I
don't wet..." The words trailed off into inaudible grumblings as
Mulder's shoulders slumped and his head tilted down with shame.

"I know, but you can't do that. When you get back to work" <Good
Scully...WHEN, not IF> "you can't sleep during the day. You need to get
over this, Mulder." She watched as Mulder scowled. "You know I'm
right, don't you."

"Yeah, I do," he muttered grudginly.

He climbed into bed and Scully padded off to her room. However, she was
awakened with the usual screams at 2 in the morning. After she had
helped him become aware of his surroundings, she held him again and
rocked him.

<Okay. I'm safe. No one's gonna hurt me. This is Scully. My
protector. Scully's touch, Scully's warmth. Scully's scent. Only she
smells like this. Fresh soap mixed with that wonderful smell that is
only her. Oh, God, thank you for Scully. My Scully. My strong and
gentle Scully. I love you, Scully.>

She felt his breathing slow and his tears run silent. She held him a
few more minutes and then helped him out of bed and brought him fresh
sheets. She let him do the rest himself. He needed to feel like he
could take care of himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Well, good morning."

"Good morning."

"How did that group go yeaterday?", Dr. Sawyer asked.

Trying to keep the mood as light as possible, Mulder manaaged a smirk.
"Let's just say I didn't stay the whole time."

"Why not?"

A nervous laugh..."Too weird for me."

Dr. Sawyer tried to maneuver around the road blocks Mulder was craftily
throwing her way. "How was it weird?"

He knew he was suddenly out of defenses to use in this situation. He
didn't like that. He squirmed in his chair. "I don't know. It just
was." He knew his effort was futile and that he would inevidably have
to tell her what happened, but he wanted to delay that as much as
possible. That way, he could have more time to think of a way to
explain it so that he could get out of this conversation.

"What happened that was so weird?"

"They just...I don't know. I didn't want to hear it."

"It?"

"I didn't want to listen to the things that happened to them."

"Like what?"

Something deep inside him snapped and he jumped out of his chair. "I
DON'T HAVE TO TELL YOU! WHAY CAN'T YOU JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE?!
WHY CAN'T PEOPLE JUST DROP IT, FOR CHRIST'S SAKE! DAMMIT!"

Although Scully was visibly unnerved, Dr. Sawyer kept her calm demeanour
as if Mulder had not just told her basically to fuck off. Scully
remained silent, not wanting to interfere. She was here because Mulder
felt safer with her there and would talk more if he felt secure. And if
anyone needed to talk, it was Mulder.

He returned to his seat with his teeth still grinding together. "I'm
sorry."

"No, you don't have to tell me anything, Mulder. But it's the only way
you're going to get better, and you know it."

"GODDAMMIT! I don't want to have to tell anyone! I don't want to have
to do this! It's not fair, it's not FUCKING FAIR! Dammit, I HATE him
for this!"

"Who?"

"Krycek," he sighed as he fell back into his chair and held his head in
his hands, exhausted from his outburst.

"He's the one who raped you."

<I'm too tired to fight her anymore.> "Yeah," he whispered.

"What, exactly, do you hate him for?"

He thought a moment. "For making me look at this...for making me have
to deal with what happened when I was a kid. I'd been able to avoid it
until now. The bastard."

Dr. Sawyer spoke very softly. "What did Krycek do?"

<Oh, God. Please. I don't want to talk about this. I can't. I
can't.> He startled himslef when a high pitched whine escaped his
clenched throuat. <I'm scared. I'm so scared. I don't want to do
this.> " I don't...he just...I don't know."

The doctor demonstrated her patience with silence.

Suddenly, as if he were working with Lego's, he snapped himself neatly
back into place as he sat up. "He broke my ankle," he told her with
cold conviction in his eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Scully sat at her desk, typing up some of her report. Mulder flipped
absently through some files, not noticing what was running past his
eyes. <I'm so tired of this, so tired.> His head lowered to his folded
arms and he shut his eyes to the world.

Scully gave him a few minutes. "Hey there."

He turned his head to look at her. "Hi." He wanted to smile. But he
hurt.

"You want to go home?"

"Nah. I'll just get bored."

"Well, you don't look very thrilled about being here."

That gesture brought him a weak smile. But a smile, nevertheless.

"What were you thinking about?"

He stared back at her a few long moments.

"Oh....You want to talk about it?", she offered, but keeping her tone
light so she didn't pressure him with it.

<I want to. I want someone to listen to me. I want someeone to
understand. I want you to understand.> "No," he whispered.

"Okay."

<Damn. Why did I say that? Ask me again. Please. Hound me like you
always do.> He tried to tell her his thoughts with his eyes. He put on
the most afflicted look he had. <Come on, Scully.>

She studied him thoughtfuly. <Why is he looking at me like that? What
does he want?> "Are you sure, Mulder?"

<Thanks, Scully.> "Yeah, maybe I do."

She left her papers and pulled up a spare chair by his desk, leaning
forward to offer him a listeining ear. She watched him stare at her for
a few moments.

Then he looked down and fidgeted. "I...I don't know where to start."

"It doesn't matter. Just say whatever you need to."

"This is weird."

"I'm sure it is."

He took several long minutes before he gathered up the courage to tell
her. "I just can't stop thinking about it, Scully. What Krycek did. I
feel it over and over and it just won't stop."

Scully sighed. "You know...Mulder...if you talk about what happened, it
will get a lot of it out of your head."

He winced. "I know, but...it's not very easy to do."

"Yeah. I bet it's one of the hardest things you'll ever do. But it's
the only thing that can really help you right now."

His eyes darted to the side for a moment before he looked down. "It's
awful, Scully. Are you sure you want to listen to this?"

"I can handle it, Mulder."

"Okay...I came to and I...didn't have any clothes on. And I had wet the
bed I was on and thought I was at home and a kid and that Dad was about
to come in and punish me for it. Then I heard Krycek's voice and
figured out what was going on. And he started...touching me and stuff.
And I couldn't move cause he had a gun to my head. And I..." He
groaned. "The bad part is that I...I got hard, Scully," he slurred
those last few words together and buried his face in his hands.

Her voice was soft. "Mulder, listen to me." She pulled his hands away
and looked him in the eyes. "Listen to me. You had no control over
that. You didn't. Your body just responded and sent neurological
signals to yor brain. You conldn't have stopped that any more than you
could keep your hand from jerking away from a hot stove." She could
tell he didn't believe her as he hung his head. "What happened then?"

@@@@@@@@@@@@NC-17 PARAGRAPH@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

"He...then he started sucking on me. Oh, that was so horrible, Scully.
But luckily I passed out. I woke up later, and he came in and told me
to turn over." <God, I don't want to tell her this. This is so
shameful. But I want her to listen to me...> "This time it was much
worse. He...he put his finger inside me and started rubbing my
prostate." Mulder could feel the blood rush to his face and color his
face a deep crimson. "Scully, it felt sooo terrible, so awful.
But...but...it also felt really, really good. And I...I..." he looked
up at her with tortured eyes.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@ END OF NC-17 @@@@@@@@@@

She could figure out now why he had been so confused, and she reached
out to put a reassuring hand on his knee. "It's all right, Mulder. You
can tell me. No matter what it is, I promise, I won't think any worse
of you."

"I came, Scully," he said. Then the real shame began, and he started to
panic. He felt a desparate, primal need to hide, and he buried his head
in Scully's chest so deeply that it hurt her. But she let him. He
needed this ostrich-like illusion of safety. So she covered his head in
her arms and nestled her cheek into his hair, so he could feel like he
was hidden away from the world.

"Shhh," she whispered into his delicate hair. He held onto her
desparately and leaned into her with all his weight, as if he wanted to
just crawl inside of her so she could protect him. She pulled him down
to the floor so she could lean against the desk so she wouldn't fall
over with the weight he was pressing onto her. "It's all right. It's
not your fault. It's okay, sweetheart."

After a while, when Mulder's fear had subsided, Scully lifted his head
and held it in her hands to look him in the eye.

"It's okay, Mulder. You couldn't help it. There was nothing you could
have done."

He looked away again, but she stopped him. "Hey. Look at me...Mulder.
Look at me."

Reluctantly, he met her eyes.

"I love you," she said simply, and watched as his eyes filled with
tears. She reinforced her claim with a soft kiss on his forehead. "I
love you, sweetheart. Nothing can change that."

Continued in "Ambivalence III", coming later...
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