Author: Nadine :)
Archive: Pleeze!! Just lemme know alright?
Email: yayoi@animepalace.zzn.com
Category: M/K SLASH; A; Scully POV; V
Spoilers: Small ones for 'Anasazi' and 'Paper Clip'
Rating: NC-17

Summary: Scully is grieving about Mulder's betrayal.

Disclaimer: Alright, all yours, Chris.

Note: This is my very first attempt of anything that's slash related, so if you have any comments, no matter if good or bad, please send them to me :) Also, this piece contains a graphic description of sexual interaction between two men, so if that offends you or you're underage, please back out now. Otherwise, enjoy!

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Broken (1/1) NC-17
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I feel disgusted. By everything.

By my partner, by this day, by the world--

and by me.

Yes. I can't even look in the mirror, can't even stand to see my face, to look myself in the eye. I feel filthy, exhausted, done.

Done with everything. Everything I ever believed in, everything I ever held for true, everything I wished for, everything that was a goal for me these days. All gone within less than two seconds.

Gone in the one moment that will be branded in me forever.

That moment, not even twenty-four hours ago, in Mulder's apartment, when I walked in, not knowing I was walking in on him. How should I have known?

All I was thinking was that he was not opening because he was asleep or not home, or something like that.

That I could let myself in and wait for him then give him the latest information on our case since his cell phone seemed to be off once again. Or drop the damn file on the table and leave him a note, anything. Just how could I ever have been able to imagine the truth?

The darkness and apparent silence seemed to confirm my suspicion that he was not there. I was just about to have a seat on the couch when I saw the dim gleam of light coming from the direction of what should be the bedroom. So he was there, probably resting. And I longed to see his bedroom anyway.

So I turned towards it, then, having not walked five steps, my world was being hit and shattered into a thousand pieces. So cruelly destroyed by what I saw.

He was there. In bed. But beneath him there was another body, as stark naked as he was, moving in counterpoint to the same rhythm as he did, breathing hard just like him.

Alex Krycek. The wanted criminal. The assassin. The murderer of both my sister and Mulder's father who has caused me, and Mulder, so much sorrow I never knew a man was able to cause.

And now there he was, under my partner, my best friend, the man I love, have loved for so long. He was there with him.

I entered the room, moved closer so that I could see their faces, without them noticing. They were absorbed into each other, by their lovemaking.

And, yes, love was what I saw in Mulder's eyes as he was looking down at Krycek who had his hands wound around Mulder's neck. Love, and deep passion that made his eyes a deep, dark, erotic green.

Beautiful. They were both beautiful, Krycek's legs around Mulder's hips, Mulder's arms braced on each side of the bed, both of them rocking, sweating, gasping, longing.

And when I came to, I was sad. No, enraged. Sadly enraged. At the sight of Mulder expressing his love for this man, that love I was so sure he felt for me, the love which I had kept for him in a place deep down in the core of my heart from where now all the pain and grief and anger made its way out of my body in a sob. Dear God, I needed to sob whether I wanted or not.

And they heard it. Looked up. Looked at me, shocked. That was it for me.

I fled. Turned on my heel and got out of the room, out of the whole damn apartment, not reacting to Mulder's voice calling after me, running, while tears were staining my cheeks and giving me a hard time seeing, getting into my car, driving home.

And that's where I am now, and where I have been ever since then. I haven't taken a shower, or changed clothes, haven't eaten, have been effectively avoiding to look at myself.

I also haven't answered his calls that are documented on my answering machine. How many of them were there? Ten? Fifteen? I don't know, and I don't care.

"Scully, please let me explain...we need to talk... please, Scully..."

No, Mulder, I won't let you explain. And I won't talk to you. I don't know how I could ever stand to look at you again. After I have seen you with someone else, this man Alex Krycek of all people, making yourself a traitor to your own faith, to your work, to everything we've been through, to me, to all the promises that always lay in the looks you occasionally gave me, all the tender gestures...

Mulder, how could you!

I'm crying again. My eyes hurt from all the salty tears, my nose feels puffy, and I must smell. No wonder, I've been sitting here for almost a day in the same clothes, in the same corner, staring at the same wall. The key in the lock is supposed to prevent you from opening the front door with your own key. I'm not sure if you tried to though, I don't think I was paying attention.

So, what am I going to do now?

Well, the best thing will be to quit this job, leave here, leave the FBI, the X-Files, the Quest and you behind. To try not to think of the past six years too often. To try not to be to aware of how you moved me in those years, how you changed me, how much you made me love you.

The best thing will be to start anew the way you left me.

Broken. That's what I am.


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Like it? Hope you do! :)
http://members.xoom.com/DanaScX
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