From Beyond (4/11)
by Bonkersfm

EMAIL: bonkersfm@yahoo.com
CATEGORY:MSR CASEFILE
SPOILERS: Starts after IWTB
RATING: NC17 sex and violence
SUMMARY: Mulder and Scully's relationship is put under strain when a 
casefile leads to some bizarre behaviour on Mulders part
DISCLAIMER: mine? If only!


CHAPTER 4

"Mulder? What are you doing here?" Monica 
looked him up and down, thinking he 
looked even worse then the day before.

"Is this a bad time?" He asked, shivering 
in the cold.

"Of course not, I'm just surprised to see 
you. Are you sick?"

"Possibly." He said, walking around her 
to get inside.
"Okay..." She said to herself, before 
turning to follow.
    
*************


"Hang on, let me get this right. Your 
sleep patterns are worse?" She sat in 
front of him now, in the comfort of the 
living room where John had also taken 
residence.

"Not exactly. I am sleeping now which is 
great, but it's so ...disturbed."

"It was disturbed before." She hadn't 
meant to sound so defensive of her 
methods.

"Not like this." He shook his head. "This 
is different." He looked down 
uncomfortably.

She could sense he was holding back, and 
gave John the signal that they needed 
privacy. He took the hint. 

"Why don't I go and pour you a scotch. 
You're in no position to drive home 
anyway, I'll take you." 

Mulder nodded gratefully, waiting until 
he was well out of earshot.

"There's a girl. I'm seeing her when I 
sleep."

"Thats nothing unusual Fox. Although you 
may want to keep quiet about that."

Again he shook his head. "It's not just 
in my dreams. I'm seeing her when I'm 
awake too, in the house and on the 
television. I know I dream about her more 
then I remember. I can feel it."

"Don't you think it's far more likely 
that some old case has triggered a 
memory? Or that this is a side affect of 
sleep deprivation?"

"It's not like that. I want you to 
hypnotise me again. I want to find out 
who this girl is."


********************

"Close your eyes, relax. Just 
concentrate on the sound of my voice, and 
on the rhythm of your breathing. You're 
back in the dark room. The screen is in 
front of you and it moves closer. As it 
moves closer you can see words. You focus 
on the words now, nothing else matters. 
The words are blurry but as you drift 
towards them, they begin to clear. What 
do the words say?"

"Ahhh!" He leapt out of the seat, almost 
hitting Monica in the face.

"What did you see?" She had knelt in 
front of him and now looked at him with 
incredulity.

"What do you mean? I saw nothing. I was 
only out for a second." He looked over 
for a clock, needing to gauge the time.

"Mulder, you were out for about twenty 
minutes. You had some kind of event." She 
put a hand to his forehead, feeling his 
skin burn.

"What did I say?" He choked.

"You gave a detailed description." She 
put a pad in his lap. "I started writing 
things down after the first few minutes."

He took the pad in shaky hands. The words 
were random and disconnected. As he tried 
to make them into some kind of sentence, 
the knocking at the front door distracted 
him.

"I called you a ride home." John said, 
moving past them both and pulling open 
the door to reveal Scully standing, 
seeking shelter from the rain.


***********************

She was sure it was a case of déjà vu, 
with her propped up in bed reading, and 
him taking forever in the shower. It 
wasn't light reading she was into 
tonight, however, but the scrap of paper 
that she'd pulled out of his jeans. 
Random words noted down in a hurry that 
made little sense to her. The first few 
lines were a description of sorts, words 
such as 'dark', 'wet', 'cold' figured 
prominently, whilst the other words 
seemed to be part of a conversation. As 
the door opened, she didn't go to put the 
paper back, making sure he could see her 
with it, almost challenging him to become 
secretive again. He surprised her 
however, getting into bed and lying on 
his side facing her, wrapping an arm 
around her waist. 

"You wanna tell me about this?" She 
asked, holding the paper up.

"Nothing to tell." He answered, pulling 
down the back of the vest she wore and 
planting a kiss on her back. 

"I don't remember saying any of                                        
that."

"Do you feel any better?" She asked 
hopefully, needing at least one night of 
uninterrupted sleep.

"I feel . . .like a weight's been lifted. 
But I don't know how long it will last." 
He pulled at her waist, turning her 
around to lie on her back. He wrapped his 
leg over hers and pushed the straps of 
her vest down over her shoulders. 

He planted open-mouthed kisses on her 
shoulder, pulling her closer to him as 
her hands worked to push against his 
chest. Finally he retreated, nodding in 
acceptance. He was good for nothing in 
his present state, feeling tired and 
emotional. He settled for one last kiss, 
before he rolled onto his back, pulling 
her closer into his side.


**************************

It was the first time he'd seen her face 
properly. He studied it, noting the large 
eyes and gaunt features. Part of him 
wanted her, even though her false beauty 
did nothing for him. He found himself 
pulling at her skirt, shoving her hands 
away as she protested. Her skin glowed 
blue, and she blinked at him repeatedly, 
mouthing words at him that disturbed him. 
Rage consumed him and he put a hand on 
her throat and used the other to tear the 
necklace from around her neck. Both hands 
now went to her throat as the pressure he 
applied reached a maximum, crushing at 
her larynx. 


               -x-

She'd woken to the heavy weight on top of 
her and had thought nothing of it, until 
his hands had gone to her throat. It was 
only when she saw that his eyes were 
closed that she panicked. 

"Mulder!" She clawed at him now, drawing 
blood from his left bicep. She kicked 
hard, hitting him on the stomach two or 
three times but with no real effect. 
Finally she began to scream, because it 
seemed the only thing left to do. 

After a few more terrifying seconds, the 
screams stopped. "She was going to tell."


    -x-

"She was going to tell." It was all he 
managed to stutter, as he fixed his eyes 
on hers. In a moment his face changed, 
conveying all the horror that had been 
mirrored back to him. As he sat up and 
jumped away from her, she remained still, 
unsure of what to say or do.

When he reached toward her again, she 
pulled the duvet toward her, putting 
distance between them. She knew it hadn't 
been him doing those things and she felt 
angry at herself for feeling angry with 
him. But he had frightened her. For a 
moment she had thought he might never let 
go of her. 

She rolled out of bed, making her way to 
the bathroom. She lifted her chin and 
examined her throat, anxious that he had 
not left any marks that would be 
recognisable when she went to work. As 
she turned her head one way, then the 
next his image appeared in the mirror.

"Did it leave a mark?" he asked. It? She 
thought. She turned to him now.
 
"No." She replied. "You didn't leave a 
mark." She watched as he looked down at 
the floor. "You want to tell me about 
it?" She asked, putting a hand on the 
bicep that she had scratched deeply with 
her nails.

"I can't." He said, and she turned away 
in anger. He could have throttled her in 
his sleep but he couldn't talk about some 
dumb dream? 

He followed her, picking up on her 
attitude and needing to set her straight.
"I can't tell you because I don't know. I 
can't remember what I dream. I don't know 
what made me do that." He had caught her 
up now, taking a seat beside her on the 
bed. "I need to see Monica again. I need 
her to hypnotise me again, to make me 
remember."

"Mulder, you need to get some 
professional help. I know you don't want 
this but if you had some kind of 
medication . . ."

"I don't want medication!" He snapped. "I 
don't want this to go away."
 
"You think this is more then a dream?" 
She asked incredulously.

"I don't know what it is. Whatever it is, 
this girl has shown herself to me in this 
house. She wants me to know something."

She went quiet, recognising his resolve 
and understanding that she would get no 
other response from him tonight except 
for the defensive banter that had begun 
already. She put a hand on his knee for a 
moment, in an attempt to be supportive, 
and then she stood up and headed for the 
stairs.

"Where are you going?" He asked, watching 
her pick up the pillows from her side of 
the bed.
 
"I'll sleep on the sofa tonight.  I'll 
see you tomorrow."

No, he thought, this was not what he 
wanted. He couldn't blame her though, not 
after what he'd done. He'd give her some 
time to calm down then go down there and 
sort things out.

As he approached the sofa from the side, 
he could already tell that she was 
sleeping. The familiar sight of her body 
lying without tension or worry was 
actually a welcome sight. He wouldn't 
wake her from it now, even though he 
wanted to. Instead, he went to his 
office. He would try to justify later 
that it was to do work, but in truth he 
wanted to see her again. She'd appeared 
in his office before, and he hadn't been 
back there since. 

As he walked through the door he felt 
almost disappointment, as the climate 
remained unaltered. No freezing chill. No 
strange person sitting in his chair. He 
took a seat and turned on the computer, 
waiting as the machine made the familiar 
warm up noises. Suddenly, for the first 
time in weeks, fatigue over took him and 
he set his head down on the desk, falling 
willingly asleep. 

She stirred, quickly easing her neck out 
from its uncomfortable position. Why 
hadn't she gone to one of the spare 
rooms? She knew why. Deep down she wanted 
Mulder to follow her downstairs and open 
up to her. She'd hoped she'd put him in a 
position where he would want to, even if 
it were only to reassure her, and to gain 
her trust. 

Now a noise caused her to sit up and pay 
attention. "Mulder?" She squinted, 
rationalising to herself that the shadowy 
figure had to be him. 

As he came closer, she noticed the sweat 
that poured from his chest and face as it 
glistened against the moonlight coming 
from the window. He wandered closer, not 
seeming to notice her. As he approached 
she noticed the dark liquid spreading 
down his arm, covering his wrist.

From her position, kneeling on the sofa, 
she grabbed him to look closer, to 
ascertain where it had poured. He stood 
still while she felt his wrist, finding 
with relief that the wound was further 
up. 

"Mulder, what did you do?" Her hand slid 
upward, stopping as she felt the coolness 
of a metal object. Swiftly she moved to 
the small table beside the sofa and 
switched on the lamp.

The light seemed to dazzle him, and he 
brought his right hand to his left 
shoulder, his mouth widening in horror as 
he saw what Scully saw. He retreated, 
confused as to how this could have 
happened. 

Scully sensed his own confusion and 
walked toward him, raising her hands to 
his chest to reassure him. He found no 
reassurance however, as he carefully 
plucked the shard of glass out of his 
shoulder.


Continued in Chapter 5