TITLE: Corrigenda (part 6/?)
GENRE: WIP, MSR, A, Post-IWTB
SUMMARY: see part IAUTHOR’S NOTE: Corrigenda is a Latin phrase
meaning “things to be corrected"; sorry for all the grammatical errors, I am posting this as fast as I write it so there is ZERO editing done...consider yourself warned! :)
The silk of her tank top caressed her back as she rolled over in her slumber. Scully snuggled her face deeper into the Egyptian-cotton pillowcase determined to fall back asleep after the long shift she'd endured that day at the hospital. Mulder's breath floated across her cheeks and Scully instinctively pressed her body closer to his. Reaching up with sleep-addled laziness she let her fingers run its familiar course across his bare chest: through the downy tufts of hair, over the relaxed pectoral muscles that gave slightly beneath the minimal pressure she applied.
His arm wrapped around her waist to pull her closer and she hitched her leg up to squeeze between his, swaddling herself further into Mulder’s warmth. Scully never tired of the way Mulder's body reacted to hers, his hard length pressed firmly against her stomach: The most erotic sex they'd had always started in their sleep, drunken with carnal arousal. Remembering how badly she needed to sleep Scully contemplated rolling over, but her aching desire for him won out when she heard the fabric around his pillow rustle as he moved his face towards her. Mulder's lips were supple against her own, his breath hot as she darted her tongue inside his mouth, and the groan he elicited had her stomach doing flip-flops. Their kiss deepened and she was barely conscious of being rolled beneath his body.
Mulder slid his mouth away from hers to nibble and suck on the skin of her throat; Scully's hips thrust involuntarily against his, seeking out the ultimate satisfaction her body required, and he grinded himself against her in answer. Moving down her body, he let his mouth hover over nipple -- steaming the silk with his moist breath -- before taking it between his teeth. Her fingers clenched around the locks of his hair in her grip and she let loose a guttural moan. They were wearing far too many clothes.
His hands slid down her waist to pull the hem of her shirt over her head and she opened her eyes to watch.
And suddenly the room was filled with her screams.
Tony immediately fell on top of her, muffling her cries with one monstrous hand. She tried to claw and scratch at him but his position gave him too much leverage: her movements were futile. She could feel her earlier dinner threatening to reemerge, but she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t swallow. Scully writhed harder, lungs and throat burning as angry tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Shhh-shhh! Just stop screaming and I’ll get off you, okay?”
Scully nodded feverishly, her skin crawling everywhere it met his. Slowly, he removed his hands and she sucked in an enormous, cleansing breath. He rolled off of her slowly, and she waited: all she needed was leverage to make it work, and a helluva lot of luck. When he moved off her body just enough for her to free her legs, she pulled them up to her chest with blinding speed before issuing a kick square to his jaw.
With a loud thud, Tony’s body fell backwards, landing in a huge heap on the floor. She jumped out of bed, not knowing or caring if he was conscious and raced for the door. It had occurred to her that maybe in his haste to get in bed with her – though she still hadn’t figured out how the hell that had happened – maybe he had forgotten to do something as routine as locking the door.
She yanked the handle of the lever down but the door didn’t move: He had indeed remembered to lock the deadbolt. Scully raced back to where Tony’s body laid, unmoving on the floor. She couldn’t see any blood, but it was dark, and she had bigger things to worry about. Except for the small bluish glow from the nightlight on the opposite side of the room, it was too dark to see much more than her own hand. Scully tamped down her revulsion for the man’s partial state of undress and ran her hands along his body. There were no pockets in his pajama pants and she almost moved away from him when she heard a tinny sound – like a coin falling to the hard floor – coming from the area around his shoulders. She felt around and her fingers brushed against a small beaded chain across his collarbone. Pulling gently, horrified by the idea of him regaining consciousness at that moment, she let the chain through her fingers until she reached a large object hanging from the end. The key.
Being extra-careful not to rouse him, she lifted his head with one hand, freed the chain with the other, let his head rest upon the floor again, and bolted for the door. Hand trembling, it took her a solid minute to finally get the teeth inside the lock. She held her breath and muttered a quick prayer – and the lock turned.
Scully threw open the door, unsure of what she might discover, to find herself standing in a hallway. The only light came from around the corner and she sprinted towards it not even stopping to think what could happen if he had an accomplice. She contemplated screaming for Jeffrey, though the idea of what might happen to him if he got caught in the middle nixed it. When Scully reached the lighted corner she was still alone and now inside a small kitchen. Her eyes frantically searched the tops of the granite countertops, but she saw no knives. Scully began pulling every drawer – the loud clanging making her wince each time she did – until she got to the one just to the right of the sink station. The knife wasn’t large – the blade barely longer than her finger, but it was sharp with tiny pointed teeth on its serrated edge.
A muffled curse, coming from the direction of the bedroom, sent Scully’s pulse racing. The adrenaline coursed through the blood rushing through her veins, preparing her for the fight she saw as inevitable. There was a door where the kitchen joined another room – perhaps a living area or family room – and she dashed towards it, slipping slightly on the tile in her bare feet.
If she could just make it in time to get outside and find help…Scully wrenched the door knob to the right and yanked so hard her elbow nearly popped out of its socket. It was locked.
She could hear Tony’s booming footsteps in the hallway and realized he would be upon her in seconds. She thought about hiding, but knew he was too close. If she waited where she was – his size grossly outmatching her own even with her newly acquired weapon --she had no chance. There was only one way she could win, she knew. The plans ran through her head so fast that Tony was still only one step closer when she made her decision.
She darted back across the kitchen to hide around the lip of the khaki-painted wall that obscured her view of the hallway and his view of the kitchen. Keeping an eye on the corner in case he beat her to the spot, she didn’t see the clear puddle on the floor in front of the refrigerator. Her heel hit the water and, with no friction between her foot and the tile, Scully's legs flew out from under her.
Tony heard the cry before he reached the kitchen and raced, if it was possible, even faster towards the sound. When he rounded the corner, Dana glanced up and then began scrambling on the ground, searching for something. Following her line of sight, he saw the silver and black object and lunged towards it before she could.
“NO!” Dana screamed and – finally on her feet – jumped on top of him, sending them both to the floor.
Still reeling from his recent blackout, it took Tony a few seconds before he won control and for the second time that night she was pinned under his crushing weight – only now he wielded a knife.
“Why?” he growled and Dana closed her eyes against the spittle flying from his lips. The words flowed quickly now, her attack having pushed him past the breaking point. “I have done nothing but care for you! Can’t you see, Dana? I don’t want to hurt you? Why are you making me do this? SAY. SOMETHING.”
He squeezed her wrists and knocked them against the ground.
“Because you tried to rape me!”
Tony released her upper body, pulling back like he’d been shocked with a live wire. He didn’t miss her cringing when his hips inadvertently pushed down on hers. “Rape? I-I would never…you started touching me…I-I thought…”
“I was asleep! I didn’t know who you were—” Scully’s words were an explanation, but she didn’t know if Tony was the one she was trying to convince. Her teeth worried her lip as an emotional breakdown loomed closer. “What were you doing there?”
He grimaced. “You don’t remember?”
"Oh my God..." she gasped feeling sick; that she should have realized immediately: “You drugged me!”
“What? No! No, no, no. The only time I have ever done that was the night I brought you here.” He shook his head, his face twisting up as he replayed her accusation. “I saw you screaming on the monitor, in your sleep. You left the lights on for some reason, but it never helped pull you out of your dream. I waited a long time for you to stop…but then I was afraid you were going to hurt yourself or something.” She raked her eyes over his chest, and he could read the question there. “I was already dressed for bed when I realized I had forgotten to transfer a file for work. That’s when I saw you thrashing around.”
Scully felt like he was leaving something out. She didn’t remember any of this. One of the last things she could recall before waking was having put on her pajamas after she finally gave in and took a bath. Even though she had been wearing her clothes, the water and soap pouring over her skin felt fantastic. She had wrapped the towel around herself and crept carefully, as she was sopping wet, to close herself up in the dark closet. In her boredom that afternoon she had studied and memorized every nook and cranny of it so that she would be able to find any item she needed in the dark where his eyes couldn’t see her undress. She refused to imagine that he was using some kind of infrared technology – her positive, proactive mood was too brittle to withstand such an idea. She had grabbed the silk pajamas that she knew were on a built-in shelf to the left of the door, exactly at eye level. The slide of the silk on her grime-free skin was heaven.
So, after changing into her pajamas, she had returned to bed and begrudgingly opened one of the books Tony had brought to help ease her boredom. All the titles involved the paranormal. Once Bitten and Ruby Cravings had to do with vampires. Lost Until Love, a story about ghosts who only found each other once they realized their love for the other, was such a laughable idea that she had dismissed it without a second glance. Forbidden Genius – the tale of a scientist with a God-complex: a chill had run down her spine so hard that the book fell from her grip to the floor. Too close to reality, she had murmured to no one and kicked it into the abyss under the bed. The plots all seemed so strange to have been selected by Tony – until she realized they must have been favorites of his wife. She finally settled on the title, Glory in Weakness, the story of a fallen angel. It had seemed harmless enough…and then she had woken up with a warm body next to her.
There was no memory of a nightmare, let alone of Tony coming to her bed…. “Why did you stay?”
He looked down with a guilty expression and Dana pulled her arms protectively over her chest. Pushing off the floor, Tony stood over her and extended a hand (the one not gripping the knife) towards her. “I’m taking you back to your room.”
3 Hours Earlier
An Unremarkable House
Just Outside Richmond
He had torn apart their room, starting with her dresser drawers, then moving on to the closet, then his dresser drawers. Mulder ripped the sheets from the mattress looking for signs of a struggle, another note, blood stains, anything that she could have left for him.
“Help me, Scully,” he moaned as he flipped the mattress onto the floor not caring about the water glass that shattered as it was knocked off his nightstand in the process. His forehead was dewed with sweat from his exertions and, coming up empty-handed again, he collapsed on top of the mattress. Mulder's eyes traveled across the room where they landed on the bright, ruby red book jacket she had left on the vanity; and he remembered the last conversation he had with her.
She drove him to Richmond International – after a morning of intense passion that began hours before dawn – for his nine-thirty flight, leaving her plenty of time to make it to the hospital by ten. Scully was so glad she only had a few consultations and some paperwork to do after the exhausting, twelve-hour day she had endured the day prior.
“It’s funny that you scheduled my trip so two of my three days matched up to your off days,” he teased, waggling his eyebrows until Scully finally looked up at him. His heart seemed determined to burst when he saw the moisture pooled in her eyes -- tears she was desperate to blink away.
They were stopped in front of his gate, one of Mulder's arms hoisting his carry-on higher up his shoulder, the other grasping her tiny hand for dear life. And he hadn't wanted to think about the last time he had told her goodbye, but...It's like you said. It's why we shouldn't be together.
God, I am such a short-sighted prick sometimes! But this, he told himself, this time will be different. I won't leave her another memory like that.
"Scully," he began in a whisper as crowds of strangers bumped and brushed his back. They could have been brandishing AK-47s for all the attention he paid. "We have seen each other every day, slept by one another every single night for the last six years. It's enough to make anybody ready for a little time to themselves." She gave him that crooked little grin that he couldn't remember her ever giving to anyone else and he had to pause, his lungs suddenly devoid of air. "So tell me why the idea of waking up tomorrow and Friday morning without you beside me makes me physically ache?"
"Oh, Mulder," she chided -- though her tears were spilling over, wrapped her arms around him, and buried her face in the leather of his jacket so that her next words were a muffled, "mish you, too."
He could see the large digital clock over the gate and sighed, wanting to damn it to eternal hell. "Scully? I don't want you to be late."
"Hmmm?" she replied drowsily.
"It's after nine."
"Oh." She pulled away from him then, wiping the escaped tears with the backs of her fingers before giving him another smile. "I want you to have fun, okay?"
"Of course, Scully...I'll be in my element again."
"Well, yeah, that's what I was hoping for" she laughed and looked at her watch. "Okay, well, I guess I need to go. I love you."
He leaned forward to kiss her lightly on the lips, but she linked her hands behind his neck to pull him in closer. He rested his forehead atop her, breathless, when they broke for air.
"Promise me you'll be careful, Mulder," she whispered, her tone slightly panicked. Scully released her fingers' grip so her eyes could search his. "I can't forget the last--"
"Shhh, shhh..." She was remembering Oregon...or possibly after William was born...or even this past month...or all of them. "I know. But this is just a leisure trip. Your idea, remember?"
She nodded. "Just promise me you'll come back, okay?"
"Okay. Will you promise to wear the red one?" he asked with a leer.
"MUL-DER!" Her hand smacked his chest.
"Okay, okay...Geez, can you blame a guy for trying?"
"I guess not," she chuckled.
There was ten seconds of silence between them. Neither wanted to say the words aloud.
"I'll see you Friday, then?"
"Sure, you're buying dinner, right?"
"If you're still picking me up," he answered, teasingly. "Where do you want to go?"
She grinned for just a millisecond and then bit her lip to try and play it off. "Oh, I don't know. Somewhere kind of secluded?"
"Secluded?" Mulder asked, completely baffled by her response.
Scully glanced into her purse for a few moments, though whether actually searching for something or simply to frustrate him he couldn't tell. She reached her arm deeper into the oversize bag and pulled out her keys. "Yeah," she finally answered, slightly breathless from her 'excavation'.
He waited for more, but she simply took a step away from him towards her exit. "Okay. I'll see you Friday."
She gave him one last, long look and then turned her back, her red hair spilling across her ivory coat. "Oh, and Mulder?" she called, whirling around, her long hair whipping away from her face.
"I'll be the one in red."
Mulder now lay on the edge of the mattress, doubled over in pain as he thought of another -- could be many more -- morning waking up to no Scully. I won't let it be the last time, he said, berating himself for even thinking it. I need to be strong. She needs me to find her.
He pulled himself up off the mattress and was taking a step towards the bathroom, ready to continue his search, when he heard something scrape the floor beneath his sneaker. Removing his foot, he peered down to see a stringy, yellow object...and a hollow ringing sounded in his ears.
It was Scully's cross.
END PART 6/?