Title: May Beasts Be Gentle
Author: MissAnnThropic
E-Mail: miss_annthropic@yahoo.com
Summary: An accident in the hallway makes Mulder really notice Scully's diminutive physical size.
Disclaimer: I own nasing! Really, I don't. All you see here (that you recognize, anyway) is the creation of someone else. I take no credit.



Agent Fox Mulder sat solemnly in the basement office, troubled.

Of course, that wasn't new to him. Mulder thought long and hard many hours in this neglected downstairs office, troubled and puzzled and pained more times than he could count. It was just his nature, he supposed, or his inclination to invite such bad conditions that prompted such causal actions. Whatever it was, Mulder was all too comfortable with his concern, guilt, and fear as he frowned heavily to himself in thought. While he'd experienced many psychological states in this office, the one he was feeling now was not as well worn by him, and he didn't like the feeling.

He felt like a monster.

His partner, Agent Dana Scully, was not in the office, but that was just as well. Mulder's inhuman guilt was concerning her... he'd just as soon rather not have to look at her right now. It would only make him feel worse, if it were possible for him to feel more guilty about what he'd done.

Of course, in the back of his mind, he was sure he deserved it. Maybe he needed to see her, and what he'd done to her, to be able to really see how cruel he could be... though he never meant to.

It was NEVER his intention to hurt Scully. She was his best friend, his partner, and hurting her was the last thing on his mind, but it seemed, especially after this morning, that he just couldn't help it. That, as ugly as it might be, perhaps it was just an undeniable fact that it was in his nature.

Mulder dropped his eyes to his desk, finding his hands resting limply there. He stared at them a long time; heart, conscience, and mind heavy. He'd never really thought about it before, but his hands were weapons, and he was trained to use them as such. FBI self-defense courses, mandatory, taught agents how to turn things as simple as hands into formidable weapons.

'My god,' Mulder thought as he balled his hands into fists, then relaxed his fingers, 'what were they thinking?'

Mulder closed his eyes, brow knitted in frustration and disappointment at himself as he thought back on the events of that morning. Of course, no one else would see it the way he did. Nobody else, least of all Scully (which might be a detrimental assumption on her part) would twist the incident in the hall that morning into something to paint Mulder a monster.

He really didn't need them to see it, though. He did, and he was disgusted with himself. The very thought made him sick, and ashamed.

That morning had begun as casually as any other office day. Scully had arrived shortly after Mulder, they had milled around the office a few minutes getting settled into the day, then both decided to head upstairs to get some coffee.

Mulder felt washed over with regret at the very thought of what had happened, wishing as he had so many times in his life that his memory wasn't so acute. He wished he couldn't remember every tiny detail like he did... he wished he wasn't going to remember the events of that day clearly for the rest of his life. But he knew he would, and in a way it might be the only fit punishment for what had happened... for what he'd done.

He recalled it with stark clarity, almost so clearly he could swear he really heard the chime of the elevator as its doors slid open to deposit Mulder and Scully into the hall of the third floor.

Scully had stepped through first, pausing outside the elevator a split second until Mulder caught up, then together they'd moved toward the lounge room. There was nothing hurried in their step, nothing intense in their atmosphere. It was, in the most literal definition, a casual morning... so far.

"So, Mulder," Scully had been saying in a light voice. Her teasing voice. Only Mulder understood it was her teasing voice, though... for it differed so slightly from her normal flat voice to others that strangers would not detect the difference. It was just as well, though, because the tone at the time had been meant just for him as the two partners strode without rush down the hall, "tell me again how you think it's possible for a person to have a near death experience, and that be completely okay, but for someone to see the Virgin Mary in a tortilla as you put it, to be ludicrous?"

Mulder had stepped closer to avoid another passing agent coming from the other direction, his hand coming up without thought to lightly rest on the small of Scully's back as they moved together, "I never said it was ludicrous, Scully, I just said it wasn't the same and that the evidence for it was not as strong as those for near death experiences."

Scully looked up at him, her facial expression scolding and perhaps dubious but her eyes laughing. It seemed so rare that they got to have casual conversations, and even this mock fighting had a certain appeal to it, just due to its rarity and good nature.

"All right," Scully had egged on, "what is so much more convincing about the near death experience as opposed to certain religious experiences?"

They were nearly to the coffee room, and before Mulder could answer her they noticed a commotion ahead of them. They pulled up, stopping a moment to study what was going on. Their bantering faces fell, both becoming serious as they watched the scene unfold before them.

Even before they had a grasp of what was going on, they were on alert, immediately in the mode of expecting the unexpected.

There were a cluster of agents outside the coffee room about fifteen feet ahead of them, moving on their feet so anxiously and tensely that Agents Mulder and Scully knew immediately that something was wrong.

On instinct, Scully had stepped closer to Mulder, closing the sparse space that had existed between them moments before. At that, Mulder's body tensed, muscles stiffening for a fight, though he still didn't know quite what was going on.

To a stranger, Scully stepping into him like that probably would have looked weak, as though she were seeking his protection. Mulder knew it was not, maybe even the opposite. A threat presents itself and Mulder and Scully both were just ingrained to pool their resources... set up their defensive front, and that was best done with as little distance between them as possible. It was Scully's way of preparing overtly, the same way Mulder's body tensed for battle. It was, in a way, their language. Their battle call, and both were heeding the bugles.

Voices could be heard from the commotion of people, voices of agents Mulder and Scully knew just barely. The voices were tense and elevated, full of energy... everyone seemed to be almost anticipating a fight, but every single person there's first interest was preventing one.

"Sir... just calm down... let's talk about this... don't do anything foolish, now."

Mulder jerked in surprise when someone came up and stood beside him.

After a second, Mulder recognized it as Agent Thomas.

"Agent Thomas," Mulder half greeted and half questioned in one tone, "what's going on?"

Thomas, eyes intent and attention focused on the group of about six agents nearby, answered tensely, "The report I got from downstairs is that some guy broke away from the tour group and just started behaving violently."

Scully asked in a harsh whisper, "Is he armed?"

Thomas frowned, troubled, "No... well, nothing he brought with him, anyway. Security metal detectors out front caught nothing..." Thomas took one step closer to the mass of agents but stopped, "but there's no lack of armory in this building. He may have gotten hold of something."

Thomas fidgeted, but stood still. He obviously wanted to go forward and add in the blockade of agents already surrounding and blocking the view of the suspect, but if he was in fact armed to alarm him further by making him feel even more trapped could be dangerous to himself and fellow agents. Like Mulder and Scully and about half a dozen other agents standing stalk still throughout the hall, they had nothing to do but stand back and not make matters worse.

Though it didn't seem like the agents around the perpetrator were making much headway. Hostage-holder voices continued and didn't seem to relax in indication that any progress was being made.

Then, without warning, it happened.

There was an uproar, a shout, and right before the agents' eyes, two agents standing in the circle around the man on their side fell to the floor.

One man cried out in sharp pain, another grunted as the wind was knocked out of him. It was such a tangle of shouts and legs, that the escapee didn't materialize until he was headed right toward them.

The man, mid forties, had barreled into the wall of agents to escape, apparently injuring one and momentarily stunning the other.

It all happened in a flash, for there had been mere seconds before the charging man, eyes wild with crazed fury, would be upon them.

Mulder remembered catching a glimpse of the tool he held in his hand. The weapon he'd impaled the downed Agent Rascon with. It was metal, sharp... perhaps a knife. All Mulder could see in the split moment he had was a glint of steel or metal reflecting light, and the dark red stains of blood that still clung to it.

The man was running full tilt toward them, and Mulder wasn't sure still what had made him notice a difference. Maybe it was survival instinct, or maybe inborn knowledge as a predator himself, but he knew the man a mere foot from them was coiling to attack again, weapon held ready.

The agents standing in his path, Mulder, Scully, and Thomas, had mere seconds to react or be injured.

And Mulder had done the first thing that came to mind. The first order of business as far as he was concerned. Clear Scully from danger. Face the opponent with her out of the path of the attacker's rage.

At the time, it felt like those seconds had lasted minutes... Mulder's every action seemed intensified and recorded in his memory in such stark clarity, he may well have come away from it mere moments ago rather than hours.

Mulder had reached up to his partner standing closely before him. He'd grabbed her arm with one hand, pulling her quickly away from her stance in front of him, then got his force behind his hold on her and pushed her away.

Just like that, she disappeared. She was gone... out of danger.

And none too soon, at least it had seemed that kind of luck at the time.

The intruder was upon both Thomas and Mulder. The man turned his charging wrath upon the man nearest him, Agent Thomas who had been a pace before where Mulder stood.

Thomas tried to jump away, but it was just a little too late. The attacker's weapon came forward, and Thomas jerked back only enough to avoid outright stabbing. The weapon grazed his ribs, ripping unceremoniously through his shirt and gashing his skin open in a red streak.

Thomas yelped, more in surprise than pain, pain would come later when the adrenaline high wore off. He staggered back a step to escape the weapon, eyes still bewildered and surprised that he'd been hit.

Then, without warning, the man's attention turned to Mulder.

Mulder had enough time during Agent Thomas's injury to prepare, and in that split second between Thomas's scream and the crazed man's turn of attack, Mulder went from being defensive to offensive.

The man, visitor's tag flapping on his clothes, had no time to react. He may have taken the agents in the building by surprise, but once expecting and prepared, they could not be bested. Mulder included.

The attacker had just barely turned his focus on Mulder before he felt his wrist grabbed and gripped so tightly, he instinctively cried out in pain and loosened his hand. The weapon clattered to the floor with an almost hollow banging.

The intruder tried to fight, but Mulder was ready for it, and he proved too quick. Mulder actually found that the man, once deprived of his weapon, was a quickly dispensed opponent. Hardly worthy, that was for sure... if Mulder had been looking for a fight, this would have been disappointing. The escaped visitor hardly had time to process his situation before he was slammed harshly into the wall, chest first. His grunt on impact was cut short by his own strained cry as his arm was pulled up behind his back and pinned there just at the point where he felt it might break, shooting pain screaming through his arm and shoulder.

And just as easily as that, it was over. The physical pain the agent was inflicting on him had instantly taken all the fight out of the previously dangerous runaway. In a second, he went from uncontrollably hostile to complacently docile.

For a moment, a split second that felt like minutes, the agents in the hall regathered themselves after the incident quite suddenly ended. Mulder stood quietly, almost casually, seeming quite comfortable to hold the perpetrator pinned and incapacitated as long as need be.

But it was moments before fellow agents were at his side. One withdrew a pair of handcuffs.

Mulder stepped back, letting go of the man's arm. The visitor visibly sagged in relief at being released, putting up no fight as he was arrested. He clearly decided that he preferred this to the earlier alternative.

A few agents spoke genuinely to Mulder, throwing him, "Good job, Mulder," or "Nice pin, Spooky," but Mulder paid them little heed. He was just doing his job, and he knew that just as well as the congratulating agents milling about.

Mulder looked over at Thomas, who was just now noticing that he was bleeding. There were other agents around him, though, already helping him with his bloody gash. Same went for Agent Rascon, who apparently had been hurt much worse. He still lay on the floor, now groaning and faintly writhing in pain. He was obviously the one most taken by surprise when the attacker unveiled his weapon. A group of agents huddled around him, anxiously inspecting his wounds and someone calling for medical assistance.

Then Mulder noticed that Scully was not among them. She was usually first to see to a fallen agent.

Mulder frowned, concern creeping into his bones as he turned, looking behind him to where he'd last seen Scully before the arrest.

What he saw hit him in the gut like a sack of rocks.

Scully was sitting on the floor by the wall where he'd pushed her. She looked shaken, almost hunkered down over herself, and she held the back of her head with one hand... as though in pain.

"Scully?" Mulder managed to squeak out as he moved quickly to her.

He knelt down in front of her, heart racing just as quickly (if not more so) as during the short-winded fight. "Scully? You okay?"

Scully closed her eyes, brow furrowed, and she muttered, "I'm fine..." even as she almost imperceptibly shook her head.

Mulder touched her, "What happened?"

Scully finally looked up, meeting his eyes. At first, she looked worried about him, then confused, then angry... but then she dropped her eyes again and refused to tell him.

In refusing to say, she'd all but told him.

Mulder felt his stomach bottom out as it dawned on him, 'oh god, I did that.'

At that, Mulder had sat back, moving slightly away from her, almost as if to be too close to her would only hurt her again, like his very proximity would injure her further. He'd pushed her, she obviously fell back and hit her head on the wall... because he'd pushed her. But he hadn't thought he'd pushed her all that hard... he didn't remember using even half his muscle power.

Then again, it was a combat situation... he might have used more force than he'd thought in the interest of getting her out of the way at that moment.

Mulder could only stare at her, watching her try to swallow the pain she was in, trying to hide it from him... trying not to let the tears spring to her eyes. Mulder felt pale, ashen. He'd hurt her. He hadn't meant to, but he'd hurt her.

Finally, Scully moved to stand. She seemed to stagger a moment, unsteady, but Mulder did not move to help her. He stood swiftly instead and stepped back, blinking. He couldn't touch her... his last touch had been what caused this.

Another agent nearby saw Agent Scully faltering, needing assistance, and moved quickly to her side, offering her a hand until she got her feet under her.

Once standing, Scully oriented herself with one hand on the wall, then blinked heavily a few times. When her vision focused on Mulder again, he could see the pain in her eyes. He'd hurt her... badly, he could see it in her foggy blue eyes.

Scully tried to fake a smile, failed miserably, then muttered, "I'm fine, Mulder... but, ahh... I think I'll go with Rascon and Thomas to the hospital... to see if they're all right."

Mulder nodded, dropping his eyes as she moved unsteadily past him. She wasn't fooling him. She wanted to go mostly to get herself checked out. He had no idea he'd hurt her so much... he'd just been trying to protect her.

Mulder couldn't stand to watch her walk away toward the elevator. Her step gained more strength as she moved and her pace slowly grew more confident and faster, but Mulder hadn't seen that. He turned away in shame and guilt, escaping the hallway as quickly as possible. Seeking the retreat of his underground cave of a basement office. The most fitting place for a monster like him.

Mulder blinked heavily, sighing raggedly as he looked once more at his hands. The ones that had hurt her... his partner.

He hadn't heard from her in hours... not since she left under her own power for the hospital. Mulder had seen her injured in the line of duty before and end up in a hospital, but that was different. That wasn't like this. Scully had every right to be mad at him, to stop talking to him, hell, to press charges for assault wouldn't be out of the question. He wouldn't fight it if she did. He'd plead guilty... he was ready to, anyway.

In a way, he kind of hoped... wished that someone would come down to reprimand him, to punish him for the attack on his partner. Unintentional though it was, it was an assault on her none the less. He'd still hurt her. He might be able to cope if someone would just yell at him. He felt that he had to know that others knew his guilt... it was the kind of treatment he deserved after what he'd done. He deserved to be shunned and shamed by coworkers for what he'd done. It was unacceptable.

But no one came. The office was as quiet as ever... even more so with Scully gone. There were no words of reprimand aside from those he heard in his own thoughts.

Mulder felt himself growing heavy. He was used to carrying guilt, but not like this. He would never have thought before that guilt felt heavier when no one picked at the tender inflammation. To have no one notice his ill deed was worse than penance for those people did see.

But, if this was the worst way he could suffer, then he deserved it.

Mulder brought his hands up, those hurting hands, and ran them through his hair roughly, settling his face in them afterwards.

Part of him wondered where Scully was, if she was okay, and when she was going to come back; the other part of him didn't blame her if she never came back. He was dangerous; today's events had proven that much without doubt.



****



Scully stopped herself, blinked, then reread the last paragraph on the report when she realized she'd phased out and ceased understanding what she'd been reading. Of course, it wasn't like she was just not paying attention... her mental capacities seemed split between the pounding headache she had and the double dose of advil she'd taken to try and relieve it, leaving little else for extra processing.

She had arrived at the hospital with Rascon in the ambulance, finding the radiating, screaming pain she'd had at the FBI building had dulled to a thick ache and a large bump on her head. Still, she had the doctors just give her a cursory check, to make sure she didn't have a concussion or skull fracture. When she knew she didn't and had only gotten banged up a little bit, she gratefully had taken the advils the friendly nurse offered her, then took a cab back to the office.

Instead of heading back to their basement lair, though, she had to satisfy her curiosity. Mulder was probably busy knee deep in the preliminary investigations on a new case anyway, so she detoured to the same floor where she and Mulder had been attacked, figuring it would be the best starting place from which to track down any information about the man who'd attacked three agents.

Agents seemed to stir when they saw her back, asking how she was doing, how Rascon and Thomas were, and a few friendly jibes at Mulder that had very little to do with what had happened that morning. Scully ignored the last remarks, stunned continuously that decent people like most of her fellow FBI agents could be so cruel to Mulder even when he wasn't there (and most of them didn't even act as though they realized they were being juvenile and mean).

The other questions she'd herded politely, then asked about the incident in the hallway.

One of the agents who'd been first on the scene when the situation broke out had done the report, and he departed company long enough to go make her a copy of the file he'd finished not long ago. Scully thanked him and stood around waiting, wondering what Mulder had gotten into now while she was gone for the whole of maybe an hour.

Scully now stood in the hallway near the closed elevators, trying to read the report as the elevator chimed with each floor it passed on its way to where Scully had summoned it.

While the finer details were lost in the medicated haze fogging her brain, the main points stuck and she was satisfied that even Mulder couldn't turn this into a conspiracy by shadow outfits of the government.

She was breathing a sigh of release at this as she stepped into the now waiting elevator, turning to the panel and pressing the button for basement level. The doors hung still a moment, then slid shut and the cubicle seemed to take twenty pounds of weight from her as it hurried her down to the rarely visited floor.



****



When Scully strode casually into the X Files department office, she stopped short when she saw Mulder sitting at his desk. That he was there was not as odd as the fact that he had no work in front of him. Nothing... he was just sitting there, almost as if lost in thought, but seeming even more lost than that.

It was unlike Mulder to be so still... so inactive.

Scully frowned at him, saying finally, "Mulder."

Mulder looked up at her, startled by her presence by the way he jerked at her voice. He had that look on his face... the same one he'd had in Louisiana when Queequeg got eaten by that alligator and it first dawned on Mulder that she might have actually loved that little dog. It was the same look he had now... like he'd done something really bad, but assumed she knew what he was upset about.

Scully was taken even more aback by this, and only confusion answered her questions as to his behavior. "Mulder," she stated again, dropping the file to her side as she moved closer to him, "have you just been sitting here all day?"

Mulder leaned back in his seat as she drew closer... almost as if recoiling.

Scully halted in her step, suddenly very worried about him. What made him draw back from her?

Of course, Mulder was known to have his moods, and she supposed this was just another one of them. Typically these smaller moods he worked through himself... her best course of action in most cases was to ignore them.

So she did.

Scully pulled the file up to her again and asked, "Did you hear anything about that guy this morning?"

Mulder shook his head, eyes blank and facial expression somewhat taut.

Scully opened the file, reading to him as she moved toward her back area of the office, "Edwin Napen, 43... social security worker up until two days ago when he was laid off due to management restructuring and cutbacks. Apparently, they decided to cut loose Mister Napen for questionable mental stability... seems he was dismissed on grounds of previous threats of attack on coworkers. Mister Napen, it seems, blamed the government for the loss his job, the restructuring that is, and decided to take it out on the closest government organization to him. Edwin Napen lives four blocks from the Hoover Building."

Scully glanced up, finding that Mulder was listening, but as was uncharacteristic of him, he'd not stood and moved toward her to read over her shoulder himself the report. Instead, he remained where he sat, eyes locked on his clasped hands as they rested in his lap. The slight cock of his head and stillness to his features told Scully he was listening, but they were all that did. That he wouldn't join her, like he normally did, was disturbing.

Scully tried to shake it off, shutting the file and moving toward Mulder's desk again, "As to the weapon he got past security... he didn't. Edwin Napen signed up for a building tour and somehow managed to slip away from the group. He swiped a letter opener from someone's desk... that's the weapon he used in his attack on the two agents still in the hospital."

Scully stepped behind his desk and moved beside him, reaching down to set the file on his desk in front of him.

Mulder, in a very unfamiliar action, moved suddenly but smoothly away as she leaned closer.

Scully froze, looking down at him. He refused to look up at her. He was starting to worry her, but her respect to his rights of personal space kept her from asking what was wrong. Still, her gut told her she should.

Scully spoke again, "In any case... prosecution should be quick in this instance. There were no shortage of witnesses, testimony to his radical behavior at the security office, and they'll probably want to talk to you as the subduing officer."

Mulder nodded faintly, then moved deftly from his chair... managing to slide out of it and toward the door without getting any closer to Scully... always moving away from her.

Scully finally stopped him, "Mulder."

Mulder stopped by the door, turning back to look at her, though he kept his eyes more on her blouse than meeting her face... much less her eyes.

Scully flustered for a minute, thinking of an excuse for having stopped him, then picked up the file he'd left on the desk and moved toward him.

Mulder stiffened.

Scully reached him, standing before him as she offered him the case file, "You'll probably need to go over this before the hearing."

Mulder took it carefully... as if he thought it were a ticking bomb. Then, with a slight nod and dipping of his head, sidled out of the room and strode swiftly down the hall.

Scully watched after him, puzzled. If this was a new one of Mulder's funny moods that she hadn't seen before, she had to say she didn't like it. He acted... almost like he was afraid of her or something.

That couldn't be right, though. Mulder had never feared Scully, just as she had never feared him.

Well... whatever it was, she hoped it blew over soon. As it was, her still present headache was giving her plenty to preoccupy herself with for the rest of the day.



****



'I have realized today, maybe for one of the first actual times in our entire partnership, just how much smaller Scully is than me. I don't mean less intelligent or less important, she's certainly nothing like that... in no way intellectually or professionally anything less than I am. I mean physically. Body weight and muscle mass, I am bigger than her.

Sure, I knew that on some level, but I think before it must have been more unconscious than anything. I knew it, but I wasn't aware of it. I guess, because I think of her so much as my equal in the work that we do, I'd allowed myself to stop noticing her relative size.

Today was a wake-up call... a big one.'



Mulder paused, hands poised over his keyboard. The blinking cursor taunted him to finish his thoughts, almost as if trivializing the large step he was taking or the emotional tax it was having to even write them down.

Mulder didn't do this often... write. Most of his computer time while typing was consumed with writing up case reports and summaries for Skinner. He rarely wrote like this. Really writing, that is. These were actual feelings, fears, anxieties... everything he felt he couldn't tell Scully. Why he couldn't tell her some of the other things in this file he wasn't sure, but he knew why this one could not be shared. This one directly concerned her, and this had become his only means of trying to work it out.

Mulder glanced at the incident report that lay on the desk beside his computer. It was unopened. Mulder didn't want to read it. The very sight and knowledge of it lying there beside him made him feel a little ill. Sighing, he decided that maybe he could alleviate some of that too by writing about it... god knows he couldn't tell Scully.



'I can't bring myself to read this report she gave me. I guess I'll have to before the hearing, but I don't want to. I know damn well what happened... what I did.

I can't face Scully again... when she came back into the office I wanted to leave, to just get away. I did... eventually. I didn't even know where to go... I just knew I had to get some distance between us. I can't be around her... I'm dangerous.

I never noticed how small she is before this morning.

She takes care of herself so well, and she shuns help so much from other people, I guess I fed into her delusion. I fell for it and believed she was a big as she tried to make herself look.

It's kind of funny that it only now strikes me... I'm twice her size.

And for all her defense tactics and physical training, she's not nearly as strong as I am. I hate that as much as I'm sure she must, but it still remains fact.

I could so easily hurt her... and I have.

I didn't mean to do it. I wasn't trying to throw her into the wall like I did. I guess... I guess I panicked, or overreacted maybe. Whatever that split second emotional response was, it made me forget to hold back. It made me hurt her.

I was trying to protect her! And you know what? At that moment I pushed her out of the way because I knew for that split second she was too small to be a match for the attacker. In a split second decision I can know it, but when it counts I still blow it.

I've never really felt this... scared of myself, before.

Scully walked in today after the hospital and I didn't see my hot-tempered partner... I saw a little woman. I saw her not as impenetrable... but breakable. I've never been afraid of myself, but I am now. I'm afraid something like that will happen again. I'm afraid in a moment of intensity I'll naturally end up harming her without meaning to. It easily could... I outweigh her by a good fifty or sixty pounds, and I'm nearly an entire foot taller. Jesus... how could the bureau do that to her? Stick someone as fragile and delicate as her with a klutzy beast like me?

Beast be damned... I'm a monster.

All I wanted to do was protect her... I've always wanted to protect her, but all I've done is hurt her. You know that old saying 'don't know your own strength'? I've been lost in that illusion for so long... but now I know it.

It frightens me to know that, even if she were squared off and prepared for a fight with me, I could take her down with little trouble.

That fucking scares the shit out of me. I don't want to know I could do that to her... I don't want to be that strong.

I think back to all those instances in the past where I was drugged, mad, blinded with grief or anger... so many mental states when my reserves were not in position. When I could have hurt her.

I could... I know that now.

And I can't let that happen.

She's so small... it's like asking a fawn to work with a bear. Intentions may be good, but the bear is stronger and more aggressive. In a fit of passion, he might not think... one careless moment and only one strike would be enough to kill his little companion. The bear can't really help it... he's just so much bigger, and that monstrosity to inflict harm is in his nature.

As it appears to be in mine.

I've hurt her. I've hurt Scully before, but it only occurred to me today what more I'm capable of. Her struggles would be short-lived... and that's terrifying.

I'm a monster.

Maybe it's a dormant beast... but I know it's there. I saw it today. This guy who attacked us... Napen, he impaled one agent and gashed a second, but within seconds I had him pinned, trapped, and in pain.

I know it was my job, but I can't reconcile that with what I know really happened. Something awoke in me, and for a moment that monster in me that allowed me to hurt Scully took over. There's obviously something in me I never acknowledged before... a piece of beast that can turn me into that monster I saw today.

I can't ask Scully to subject herself to that. I can't ask her to stay with me when I know I'm dangerous for her to be around.

What if I'm not so lucky next time? What if the next time this happens Scully doesn't stroll out of hospital like she did today? I have the physical power to do something that bad to her, though it horrifies me to admit it.

But, maybe admitting it is the first step. Once I know the monster in me and stop denying it, then I can look forward.

I need to get Scully out of that basement office... away from me. I'm a danger to her, and beast or not... I can't live with that.'



****



Scully looked up from the papers in her hand. The troubled crease of her brow had nothing to do with the proposed case before her, though it well should have been. This time, however, she had more pressing things on her mind.

Mulder had been MIA for four days.

The first day Scully had brushed off as just him on one of his crazy lead follow-ups... the ones she tried to convince herself she was lucky enough to not get dragged into (though secretly she wished he'd have taken her).

The second day she was getting uneasy and Skinner called her up to ask her about Mulder's whereabouts... that was pretty typical, though. As typical as things with Mulder got, anyway... even Skinner knew Mulder was prone to disappear for a day now and then without warning. Mulder's only saving grace in those instances was that his department in the bureau was so disliked by the higher ups that they were not displeased to see little work getting done. Being gone for a second day, though, warranted at least an inquiry.

On the third day, Scully started to try calling his cell phone and the Lone Gunmen to see if they knew where he was. It was not like Mulder to be gone three days... not without at least calling and telling her he was still alive.

Today, the fourth, Scully was terribly worried. All the times in the past, when Mulder was gone and unheard from in this many days, it meant something was wrong. All day, she'd been imagining Mulder lost, hurt, or dying somewhere... and here she was sitting in the basement office when he needed her help.

Decided that this couldn't wait anymore, Scully set down the pesky papers in her hand, stood, and swiftly left the office. She had to get down to the bottom of this, and drastic times were calling for drastic measures. Her next actions would be an invasion of Mulder's personal privacy, she knew, but if he was all right then he should have known better than to just break contact with her like that.



****



Scully was still singing that mantra to herself as she reached Mulder's apartment door. She had the key to his place in her hand, but out of courtesy knocked and waited a moment.

No one answered her knocking. She hadn't expected an answer, but she didn't want to barge in and find Mulder in the shower. She had to give him every chance to just show up, perfectly safe.

When she was satisfied he wasn't home she inserted the key and let herself into his apartment.

The place was still and quiet.

"Mulder?" Scully called out experimentally, moving toward the living room while looking around for clues. She sort of hoped that maybe at least he could have written her a note and left it on the kitchen table. The kitchen table was bare except for a dirty coffee mug and one of Mulder's socks... no letter. No such luck.

Scully scanned the living room for any obvious clues, anything disturbed or missing... anything out of place. When she found only Mulder's belongings where they (in their haphazard manner) belonged, she moved to the fish tank.

The moment the fish caught a movement they rushed to the top of the water. They looked hungry... maybe hadn't been fed in days.

Scully fed them generously, then turned and caught sight of Mulder's computer on the desk.

She hesitated a moment, then moved to the desk and sat down before it.

Turning on the computer, she found it took her little time to recognize any new documents once the main screen came on. Most of the files were labeled as either standard software for the computer system or attachments for things like the printer or modem.

Scully moved the mouse and clicked open the hard drive.

Everything looked in place, most of it basic computer material. The only thing that might have changed were the documents under the folder titled 'text files', which Scully clicked open. She was secretly relieved to find that the files had not been wiped out... at least it meant no one was trying to cover up after kidnapping Mulder.

Most of the writing document files were labeled with case numbers or key words from old cases. Mulder still had a soft copy of a lot of the cases they'd covered in the last few months. Certainly not out of the ordinary... Scully had those on her computer too.

A few documents that she did not recognize she was tempted to open, but respect for Mulder's privacy and a recently created file that caught her eye stopped her from intruding to that degree.

'Napen' the new file was named.

Since it was the most recent case she and Mulder had sort of worked on and the last she'd mentioned to him before he disappeared, she figured it was as good a place to start her search as any.

Scully clicked open the Napen file and began to read, from the top, what Mulder had written about the case.

What she found, however, had very little to do with Edwin Napen.

It had to do with her.

Scully's mouth gaped open slightly as she read. Mulder's words... deep secret words she knew he had no intention of ever telling her. Talking about her... and how he thought he was a monster.

'I can't face Scully again... when she came back into the office I wanted to leave, to just get away. I did... eventually. I didn't even know where to go... I just knew I had to get some distance between us. I can't be around her... I'm dangerous.'

Scully closed her mouth in order to bite her lip. It was all falling into place. Mulder hadn't disappeared on her to follow a case, and he wasn't neglecting to call her because he was hurt. He was avoiding her.

Mulder was afraid that, even just being around her, he'd hurt her.

Scully leaned back from the computer, Napen file still open, and digested this new information a moment. It was most certainly NOT what she had expected to find, and it took her a moment to really understand why Mulder was missing like he was.

When she did, Scully wanted to either slam HIM into a wall or smile warmly at his kind intent.

But whatever her reaction to this information, this was still wrong. It was wrong for Mulder to feel this way about the incident with Napen.

Mulder blamed himself for what happened to her that day in the hallway, and that he'd done something wrong. He thought he was in gross error; he thought he'd committed some major injustice upon his partner.

That notion hadn't even occurred to Scully because she'd thought nothing of it. Absolutely nothing of the event... and that was the truth. Mulder had just done his duty... her little accident was merely an unfortunate result, and it probably wouldn't have happened at all if she'd not been wearing high heels. It was an accident, with no one claiming fault, and she knew that. Since she did, she'd put it completely behind her, as apparently Mulder hadn't.

But she certainly didn't BLAME Mulder. To the contrary, if anything she felt somewhat grateful for the gesture he'd made. There was only one thing in Mulder's secretly hidden confession that she agreed with. He'd only been looking out for her.

And, Scully reluctantly conceded as she looked back at the screen, maybe he was right on something else, too. Though she DID hate to admit not being able to do something a man could, she had thought before that, had it been her left to stop the madman, she couldn't have done it.

If she were able to pull her weapon, she would have been fine, but she could not have done that in the hallway. Not with so many fellow agents in close quarters and directly behind the suspect. She couldn't put other FBI agents in that danger, and it left only hand to hand style combat.

And Scully could not have taken Napen.

Mulder could, though, and he was right to do his job as he knew only he could at that moment in time.

He'd done what he was supposed to do... he was right... but he was still agonizing about having hurt her.

Scully was moved, but frustrated. Frustrated with Mulder for not telling her... talking to her. If he could have just said something to her, this whole misunderstanding could have been cleared up days ago.

Scully closed out and shut down the computer. She'd all but accomplished what she had meant to... she knew what Mulder was up to, and she knew that it did not include any danger. Chances were that he wasn't hurt and bleeding in some alley in Arkansas or tied and held hostage in a storage facility in Bumfuck, Egypt. She might have become slightly angry with him, but she much preferred to be mad and know he was okay than to worry and wonder.

Scully found a sheet of paper and a pen and set it on the coffee table, writing:

Mulder, it's me. I came by your place looking for you. Call me when you get in. Please... anytime. I think we need to talk.

Scully

Scully knew there was a lot more she could have written on the note, but she suspected most of what she wanted to tell him best be left to be said in person.

Scully left the note on his kitchen table, did another cursory check of the apartment to see that nothing looked odd or suspicious, then quietly left.



****



It was another day before her phone rang.

Scully picked it up, answering calmly as she laid her glasses down on the table beside the report she'd been reading, "Scully."

A silence for a moment. No words, but someone's breathing was audible.

Scully instantly became alert, straining to hear.

Just when she was about to address the caller, a thin voice proclaimed weakly, "It's me..."

Scully sighed, "Mulder... you okay?"

Mulder seemed taken aback by her concern, maybe because he felt the situation should have been reversed, then he answered a little mechanically, "I just got in... saw your note... what do you want?"

Scully stood, looking around for her keys, "I want to come over. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Ahh... can't you tell me over the phone?"

Scully paused. She knew what Mulder was doing... he was trying to keep her away from him. He obviously was still under the misguided notion that his simple presence was a danger to her.

After some quick thinking, Scully answered rather cryptically, "I don't want to talk about it over the phone."

Mulder would think it was some secret new evidence or information about the X Files... a new informant or something of that nature. And his sense of duty and devotion to the X Files would no doubt win out against his insecurities. She was counting on it.

Scully was not disappointed. Eventually, after a tense pause, Mulder sighed then said, "All right... see you in fifteen."



****



Scully was in front of Mulder's apartment door in twelve, knocking lightly.

It was only a second or two before she heard the clatter of his chain lock being released and the deadbolt flipped open.

The door opened and Scully stood there a moment, waiting for Mulder to usher her in. There was nothing, though. The door just hung there alone and ajar.

Scully stepped forward, pushing aside the door and peeking inside. She looked just in time to see Mulder sitting back down on his couch, riveting his attention on the scatter of papers before him on the coffee table.

Scully stepped inside the apartment, closing the door behind her.

Mulder, without looking up, said, "Could you make it quick? I kind of have a lot of work to do."

Scully knew that was a lie... he'd probably set this stuff up before she came over to have reason to get rid of her quickly. It wasn't going to work.

Scully watched him force his attention on the paperwork in front of him, then said, "When you were gone I came here to look for clues to where you might be. I thought you might be hurt somewhere... that you might be in trouble."

Mulder asked in her slight pause, "Did you have something about a case to tell me?"

Scully frowned, continuing, "No... I came over and looked on your computer for any clues to where you might be. I read what you wrote on the Napen file."

Mulder instantly froze, still refusing to bring his eyes away from the coffee table.

Scully didn't quite know where to go from there. While she thought, she moved into the living room. Mulder tensed slightly, shoulders becoming uncomfortably tight as she moved closer.

When Scully rounded the coffee table and sat on the couch next to him, that was too much.

Mulder rose to his feet quickly, moving to his desk a few feet away, turning, and leaning against it. A distance away from his partner, eyes still downcast.

Scully sighed, quiet a long time, then said, "Mulder... you're not a monster."

That hit a cord. Mulder's face twisted a moment. He started to shake his head lightly, then he crossed his arms over his chest.

Scully knew that look. He certainly didn't believe her.

Scully took a breath, saying with more confidence, "Mulder... you are not a monster. Talk to me... say something."

Mulder muttered almost bitterly, "I hurt you."

"It was an accident. It wasn't your fault... you were just doing your job."

Mulder scoffed looking over at his far wall, "As if you couldn't have taken care of yourself."

Scully looked down at the scatter papers before her. She shook her head, "No... you were right. I couldn't have handled Napen. In another place and time, yes, but in that hallway that day there was nothing I could have done to stop him. I didn't have the brawn to do that... you did, and you took the initiative. You were right."

Mulder glowered to himself, eyes becoming hostile as he ground his jaw, then commented, "This isn't..." then he trailed off and his voice grew fainter and less forceful.

Scully was determined not to let this just go away, "What, Mulder? This isn't what?"

Mulder was silent a long time, perhaps debating on telling her. In the end, he had to tell her. He'd been keeping this to himself long enough when all he'd really wanted to do the entire time was talk about it to Scully... she had a way of making horrible things seem not so bad. At some point, he'd had enough of the guilt.

Mulder drew his arms tighter to him, continuing, "This isn't about Napen, or what happened that day."

Scully nodded, urging him on, "Then what IS it about?"

Mulder frowned, "It's about what could happen. What I'm capable of." Mulder finally looked up, glancing at her very fleetingly before turning his eyes back to his feet.

Scully had read Mulder's concerns, she remembered what he'd said about this topic.

Scully looked down at her hands, folding them together slowly, then said, "Mulder... it may have only just occurred to you that you are, in fact, twice my size... but that's not news to me."

Mulder's face contorted, looked puzzled, then he ventured, "What do you mean?"

Scully smiled faintly, looking up at him (even though he did not look back) as she answered, "I've always been quite aware of your size." When Mulder didn't retort, she knew this was serious. That comment openly invited one of his quick innuendoes. Scully tried to hide her concern and disappointment as she continued, "I have always known you were physically capable of overpowering me in a second. I still know you can... but I'm not at all afraid."

Mulder finally looked up, meeting her eyes. His expression was so hurt, guilty, and hopeful. He was all but praying for something to believe in... something to take the sting off his guilt. When he spoke, his words were just as desperate, "Why not?"

Scully looked him straight in the eye, answering honestly, "Because it all comes down to one thing. I trust you."

Mulder seemed to take that as a glimmer of hope... a light at the end of the tunnel, but quickly he shook his head and insisted, "How can you be certain of that? God, Scully... I've held a gun on you before... twice! How can you say that after all that's happened to us?"

Scully retorted, "I'm still here, aren't I? You may have held a gun on me twice, but how many times did you fire? None."

Mulder shook his head, "That... that doesn't mean the next time I'll be able to stop."

Scully sighed, "Mulder... listen to me. As much as I believe in anything, I believe you would never hurt me."

Mulder opened his mouth, protesting, "I hurt you only five days ago!"

"That was an accident, Mulder. Accidents are no one's fault... not even yours."

Mulder sagged heavily against his desk, chin nearly dropping to touch his chest, "How can you believe something like that? I... I'm not safe to be around, Scully. I can't risk hurting you. I'm... dangerous."

"Maybe," Scully concurred. Mulder's eyes jerked up, filled with pain but at the same time a kind of twisted satisfaction at her agreement. Scully wasn't finished, though, "but not to me. Mulder... we're all dangerous to the right people. I know I'm not in danger from you."

Mulder took a deep breath, "I wish I could believe that..."

Scully stood, moving toward him.

Mulder stiffened, but didn't move.

Scully stopped in front of him, "Mulder... look at me."

When he slowly did so, she spoke softly but firmly, "I know you DO believe that. You may be doubting it now, but I know you believe it as much as I do."

Mulder weakly shook his head.

Scully cut him off, insisting he see her side of the story, "Even if you won't admit it... I believe it."

Mulder muttered, "I could hurt you..."

"No... you couldn't."

Mulder looked up at her, seemingly angered by her refusal to understand, "How can you be so sure?"

Scully smiled. Softly... enough to calm him... to quiet him at the sight of her expression.

When he was sated, Scully answered, "Because as much as you believe in that beast inside you that could do that to me, I believe in the Mulder in you that would stop you."

Mulder locked gazes with her, considering her in the close proximity. This was her opening, Scully knew it.

Scully sighed gently, "Mulder... I stand before you every day knowing how much stronger and bigger you are than me. I know you COULD do it... but I know you won't. I've seen what happens when you seem about to... it's in your eyes."

Mulder looked at her, now quizzical.

Scully fought to explain the strange phenomenon she'd observed.

"Right when you look like you're going to hurt me, even when you're in an altered state of mind, something in your look changes. The rage and confusion are gone for a minute... and I don't see a dangerous man. I see you... the gentle, kind, strong part of you. I see the Mulder win out over whatever monster you think is in you."

Mulder dropped his eyes but Scully reached forward, touching his loose tie lightly to regain his attention, "You may well have a beast inside you, Mulder... but I think we all do. You've convinced yourself, though, that your beast would win. That's not true... you may not believe it, but I know it. I bet my life on it."

Mulder blanched a little at the notion, "Don't..." he feebly pleaded.

Scully looked down, letting her attention focus on his tie as she answered, "You act as though it's something I give lightly. I trust you with my life because you've earned it."

Finally, Mulder spoke, "I can't... ask you to put yourself at risk by... staying around me."

Scully looked up at him, finding his words softer... less defensive. She replied, "I'm not asking for a choice... it's my risk... it's my decision. I'm not going anywhere, Mulder."

Mulder's lips twitched in an impending smile.

His face grew serious a moment as he took a moment to gather his thoughts, then spoke, "Scully?"

Scully answered promptly, "Yes?"

Mulder fought a moment to find the right words, then said, "I don't know if you're right or not... but I appreciate your... faith in me."

Scully smiled. "Mulder... THAT was never in question... but you're welcome."

Scully turned, about to leave, but when she reached his front door she stopped and turned, "Oh... Mulder?"

Mulder, who had been moving toward his couch, stopped and looked at her.

Scully watched him a moment, then said, "I held a gun on you twice before... I fired once. Now who's the monster?"

Mulder was just beginning to chuckle as Scully closed the door behind her, leaving him to recollect his thoughts and maybe... hopefully, beat back the monster he felt had taken over.

Scully thought to herself as she waited for the elevator. She did believe everyone had a beast in them, but in Mulder's case even his beast could be gentle. At least to her, even the beastly side of Mulder looked out for her.

Not that she'd ever doubted it.



END