Am I strong enough?
Author: T. Collins
Email: DazedCaviar@aol.com
Rating: PG
Classification: 
Disclaimer: Not mine, unfortunately but wishes to hell they 
were.

Summary: Post Milargo




I hold her tightly against my chest as she lets go of it 
all. Within minutes I feel my knees start to ache from being 
hunched over her. I shift to a sitting position and cradle her 
body closer to mine. My shirt slowly becomes wet from her tears. 
My shoulders become numb from her clawing. It's like she trying 
to climb inside of me. I soothingly rub my hands up and down her
back, whispering words of reassurance.

"It's okay, Scully. I'm here. I'm here, Scully."

The gut wrenching sobs turn into silent tears twenty minutes 
later. I ease Scully away from me to look at her. Her eyes avoid 
mine as I begin to unbutton the material separating her skin from 
my touch. With blood staining her chalk white skin, I'm sure she 
is injured. I gently peel back the silk blouse and run my fingers 
down her chest checking for an open wound. Her face contorts into 
pain and she lets out a shaky breath.

"Sorry."

She nods an acceptance to my apology and stops breathing for a 
few seconds. I continue my examination and find nothing.

"Scully..."

She is still looking at my fingers resting on her hip. 

"Scully, look at me."

I watch as her eyes work their way up my chest, then to my neck 
and finally to my eyes. Tears are still glistening in her blue 
orbs. But they no longer speak of strength. Confusion and terror 
echo throughout.  She needs an explanation as to what has happened. 
But I can't offer one.

"Scully, can you stand?" 

She doesn't answer.

"Scully?"

I stand hearing my bones creak and extend my arms to her. 
Scully's eyes cut to my beckoning fingers. She places hers securely 
in them. We get her standing and learn that her legs are weak. She 
goes to curl up on the couch but I stop her. 

"No, Scully. We have to get you to a hospital."
"Nnnnmmmm."

Scully shakes her head no and continues to moan her protest.

"Scully, you could be hurt. We have to let a doctor check 
you out."
"No, Mulder."

I can see that it has taken a lot out of her saying those two 
words. Scully wraps her arms around her waist and snakes a hand 
to her heart. 
"Mulder, it hurts," she says in a shaky voice.

The tears that had subsided minutes earlier are back. And as I 
stand here watching them fall, I don't know whether she speaks of 
her physical pain or her emotional pain. During these minutes I 
doubt that I'm strong enough to handle this. I've never heard 
Scully hurt openly before. 

"You win. We'll stay. I think I have painkillers in here 
somewhere."

I pull her close and guide her to the bathroom. I sit her on the 
covered toilet seat and turn on the shower. I test the water with 
my fingers and find it to be cold. Adjusting the temperature, I look 
over my shoulder at Scully. She's sitting there staring straight 
ahead at the towel rack.  I touch her shoulder to bring her back to 
reality. 

"Scully?"
"Huh?"
"Shower..."

I watch as she tries to shrug off her suit jacket. I can see the 
pain on her face. I reach over and begin to pull down the jacket 
sleeve. She stills under my touch and allows me to undress her. 
When I get to her underwear, I shy away but realize that she isn't 
with me. I stop and stare at her face and wait for a Scully-like 
comment. But Scully isn't in the room...Dana is. I carefully strip 
her of the last of her clothing. My eyes steal quick glances over 
her various scars. Some from childhood and some from me, more from 
working with me. More from rescuing my sorry ass from being killed. 
Without noticing, my fingertips are grazing the scars. Goosebumps 
rise on her skin but not from my touch. She's trembling from the 
cold draft blowing from the open window.

"Scully, I'm going to leave you in here. The door will be open so 
if you need anything..."

She nods her head yes. I watch as she steps into the shower stall. 
She disappears behind the curtain and I turn to leave. I rifle 
though my drawers for the shirt she always wears whenever she 
stays over. It's gray with a smiling green fish on the front. But 
I can't find it. I know I washed it. I don't wear it anymore because 
it's her shirt now. Okay once I wore it to bed. I was suffering 
from Scully withdrawal, so I put on the t-shirt. I can't find it. 

"Where is it? Where is it!"

I finally remember where I put it. The bottom left side draw. I 
almost destroy the wood pulling it out roughly. There it is, folded 
neatly on top. I hold it to my nose and inhale. It still smells of 
her. As I stand here holding the shirt, tears lapse down my face. I
almost lost her today. Again. The emotions hit me hard like a power 
punch to my chest. A left cheek sneak, I joked before to Scully. 
Well, this left cheek sneak hurts like hell. I thought we were over 
this. This year has been better than most. No near death experiences. 
How quickly the tables turn? 


"Mulder?"

I turn around to the sound of my name. She stands in the doorway 
in a towel with her hair dripping wet. 

"Scully, your hair. You'll catch a cold."

I rush over with the shirt in my hand. I grab another towel from 
the bathroom and towel-dry her crimson locks. 

"Sorry about not having a hair dryer."

She grunts a response and drops her head back. I'm assuming it's 
the massage. I'm satisfied that her hair is dry. I hand her the 
t-shirt.  A small smile appears on her face. I turn my back and 
pull down the top sheets as she slips the green fish shirt over her 
head. She climbs in, and like Samantha before her, I pull the 
blanket under her chin to tuck her in.

"Mulder, lay with me."

I look at her face and then her eyes. I kick off my sneakers and 
take off my sweater. I lay down on top of the covers next to her. 
She frees her arms and tugs mine around her waist. Scully pushes 
back against my chest. Thousands of things run through my mind for 
the first few minutes. When I get up the nerve to tell her how 
scared I was finding her lifeless body on the floor, I realize that 
her breathing has slowed. I pick my head off the pillow and peek at 
her face. She's asleep. I slowly get up. I stand there staring and 
it amazes me how strong she is. Through everything that has 
happened, she is still the same person that walked into my office 
six years ago. Strong willed, independent and beautiful. I turn 
and leave before she feels me staring at her. She has a knack for 
doing that.

I quietly take cleaning supplies from under the kitchen sink to 
try and scrub the bloodstain away. I fill the small bucket with 
warm water and pour in the cleaning solution. I walk into the 
middle of my living room and kneel down. I dip the brush into 
the water and place it on top if the stain. I begin to rub away 
Scully's blood. 

An hour later and the stain has faded somewhat. But I'm too 
tired to continue. I raise my t-shirt to wipe the sweat off 
my forehead. A shower is definitely needed. I peek in on Scully 
to find that she's still asleep. I think that's a good thing. I 
quickly jump under the hot water and let the spray beat on my 
head. I stand directly under the showerhead and let the water 
wash away today's fears. My body relaxes and sleep begins to 
creep up on me. I yawn and gulp down a mouthful of water. I 
guess it's time to get out or I'll drown. Just after I towel 
off and pull on a pair of boxers, I hear Scully scream. I 
almost kill myself tripping over my own clothes trying to get 
out the bathroom. She's sitting up clutching the covers to her 
chest. I run over and sit in front of her. 

"Scully? Scully?"

The same look of terror that I saw earlier is on her face. 
Her breathing is shallow. 

"You're barely breathing."

I wrap my hand around the one that is holding the blanket close. 
Easing it down, I place my other hand over her heart and with 
my knuckles, I rub in a circular motion. I can tell it was 
calming her down. 

"I can't... I can't find the air."
"Take a deep breath, slowly."

I hear her rid her lungs of air and seconds later fill them 
up again. She does this several times until I feel her heartbeat 
return too normal.

"Okay now?"
"Yeah."

I pull my hand way from her chest and she captures it with 
her own. 

"Bad dream?"
"Yeah," she says with a husky voice.
"Well, lay back down and I'll turn on some music to help you 
relax."
"Stay with me?"

I contemplate her request. Should I? Will staying with her make 
me the bad guy? Will she think later on that I was taking advantage 
of her? Am I strong enough to do this for her? Then I think, this 
is Scully. She knows that I would do nothing to harm her. Not 
intentionally anyway. 

I crawl under the covers and snuggle up behind her. The silence 
between us is deafening. I reach over and click on the clock radio. 
I search for a soft rock music station. 

"That was Matchbox Twenty with 3 am. Up next, the Goo Goo Dolls 
with a song from the City of Angels soundtrack, Iris."

I resume my position and listen to the acoustic guitar strings 
being plucked.

"And I give up forever to touch you 
  Cause I know that you feel me somehow.
  You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be
  And I don't want to go home right now. 
  And all I can taste this moment.
  And all I can breathe is your life. 
  And sooner or later it's over,
  I just don't want to miss you tonight.
  And I don't want the world to see me, 
  Cause I don't think that they'd understand.
  When everythings made to be broken, 
  I just want you to know who I am."

The frontman's voice lull's me to sleep and his lyrics replay 
in my mind. So much so that the next time I open my eyes, the 
song is playing again and his words are coming from my mouth. 
It isn't until I begin the second verse that I realize I'm singing 
along with the radio. I look down at Scully in my arms 
and her head on resting on my chest.

"And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming. 
  Alone with the truth and the lies. 
  When everything feels like the movies,
  Yeah you bleed just to know you're alive."

I continue along with the song. His voice fades and the music 
reaches it's climax. But the first verse is still in my head. 
It's amazing that they speak about how I feel about Scully. I 
gently reach over her and click off the radio.

"Why did you stop?"

Her voice startles me. I glance down at her face and find 
her blue eyes staring up at me. 

"I thought you were asleep."
"I've been awake since they'd played Bon Jovi's Living on a 
Prayer."
"Not a fan of Bon Jovi, I see."
"A guilty pleasure that I'll never admit to in public. "
"I missed that song. When did it come on?"
"Right before Dave Matthews Band. Probably 3, 3:30."
"Another nightmare?"
"No, I was tired of sleeping."
"Tired of sleeping? How can anyone be tired of sleeping? 
Especially since it's something we rarely get to do."

We stopped talking for a few minutes. Just listening to each 
other breath. I admit lying in bed with my arms around Scully 
beats chasing down a monster any day of the week. Maybe it was 
her arms around my waist and her head resting against my heart 
that makes the small puffs of her breath caressing my chest feel 
like heaven. I found out last night that she fits perfectly in my 
embrace. I believe now more than ever that she is made for me. 
But can I be strong enough to support her? 

"When I lost consciousness last night, I didn't think I would ever 
see you again."

I listen to her words and agree silently. My entire life 
flashed before my eyes when I ran into the apartment and saw her 
lying there. The blood on her chest brought visions of the things 
we would never do together. Walking down the aisle getting married, 
leaving the hospital carrying our baby. But one picture I didn't want 
to paint was seeing Scully's face as the casket was being closed. I 
rub my eyes trying to erase the picture.

"I think you should go to the hospital."
"I'm fine, Mulder."
"At least go for me."

Sitting up Scully argues back.

"That's not fair and you know it."
"You use that line on me a thousand times. And not once have 
I complained."
"It's still..." 

She settles back down. I bring her close and hold her tighter. I 
can tell she is avoiding the subject. Dr. Dana Scully knows that 
she should go to be on the safe side. But Dana Scully the patient 
is terrified. As if seeing through her hair and into her beautiful 
mind, I am witness to the argument raging within herself. 

"Please, Scully," I whisper lifting her chin towards me. 

We look into each other's eyes until she can read the 
emotions pouring through mine.

"You'll go with me?" she asks.
"Of course, I will."
"You'll hold my hand the entire time?"

I see a smirk on her lips and hear it in her voice. 

"You got it," I answer playing along.

"You'll cook me chicken soup when we get back and feed 
it to me?"
"I don't think you want me to cook soup, Scully. I'll 
probably burn it."
"How do you burn soup, Mulder?"
"If there's a way, I'll find it. How about some toast? I 
burn a mean piece of bread," I say jokingly.
She rewards me with the arched eyebrow. I think my Scully 
is coming back.

"Mulder, you'll lay in bed with me and rub my chest?"
"Rub your chest?"

Flares go off in my head.

"Like you did when I had the nightmare?"

That way, of course.

"Anything you want."
"Will you kiss me?"

I didn't need to be asked twice. With my fingertips still 
holding her chin, I lift her head higher and begin my descent 
to her lips. When only inches apart, I look into her eyes once 
more.

"I love you, Scully," I whisper.

Our lips meet. 

"Agent Scully is already in love," Philip Padgett's words 
echoed in my mind.

I am strong enough to believe his words and chase away his 
ghost. All the other demons that fight against us will have a 
tougher barrier to cross the next time we come in contact with 
them. 

I am a man in love and a man in love is hard to stop.