From: susanf34@comcast.net   
      
   *NO ARCHIVE*   
      
      
      
   Title: Silver   
   Author: Susan   
   E-mail: susanf34@comcast.net   
   Classification: vignette, sequel to "Blue"   
   Keyword: major angst   
   Rating: PG, disturbing images   
   Spoiler: Orison   
   Archive: After the Fact site.   
   Disclaimer: These characters belong to each other,   
   not me.   
      
   Author's note: After I wrote "Blue", I received   
   several letters from people asking me what   
   happened next. I thought it over for awhile, and   
   then I wrote this.:)   
      
   **In order to better understand this story, you   
   need to read "Blue" first.   
      
   Additional notes at the end.   
      
   Summary: He wasn't going to leave, and no one   
   could make him.   
   ***********************************************************   
      
   Silver   
   by Susan   
   ~~~~   
      
   It was one of her kitchen knives.   
      
   The one she used to cut cucumbers and tomatoes   
   and all the other things she put on her salads.   
      
   That was the knife Donnie Pfaster used to slice   
   her fingers.   
      
   She remembers trying to scream, but being gagged   
   so she couldn't.   
      
   She remembers seeing the reflection of the candles   
   on the knife, the gold flames flickering on the   
   silver surface.   
      
   And she remembers the look in his eyes right before   
   he made the first cut.   
      
   He called her "girlie girl" again just as he'd   
   done five years ago, and he told her that she   
   wasn't going to get away this time.   
      
   She thought that meant killing her.   
      
   Instead he took away who she was.   
      
   ~~~   
      
   Mulder stood up from his chair, rolled his shoulders,   
   stretched his stiff back. He'd been sitting by her   
   bed for an hour watching her.   
      
   Waiting.   
      
   He thought he'd seen her eyelids flutter with   
   recognition about fifteen minutes ago, and he'd   
   excitedly called the nurse to tell her.   
      
   But it was nothing.   
      
   There was no change in her heartbeat, no change   
   in her blood pressure, no change in the color of   
   her eyes.   
      
   Just the steady beeping of the monitor next to   
   her bed.   
      
   And the overwhelming need he had to rip it out   
   of the wall and throw it across the room.   
      
   ~~~~   
      
   Once he cut through the first finger, she thought   
   she was going to pass out from the pain, but she   
   made herself stay awake.   
      
   Her being unconscious would make things easier   
   for him and give him even more pleasure.   
      
   And she didn't want things to be easy for him.   
      
   So she kicked at him and thrashed around and did   
   everything she could to make things difficult.   
      
   That made losing the second and third finger   
   excruciating, and though she thought she could   
   continue to withstand the pain, she finally lost   
   the battle.   
      
   The twisted smile on his face was the last thing   
   she saw before everything went black.   
      
   ~~~~   
      
   "Why don't you take a break, Agent Mulder?"   
   suggested the nurse as she picked up the chart   
   from the night stand and jotted something down.   
      
   According to her badge, her name was Amy, and   
   apparently she had replaced the other nurse that   
   had been in and out of Scully's room the past   
   few hours.   
      
   "The other nurses tell me that you've been here   
   for awhile now."   
      
   "I have." He looked over her shoulder at the chart   
   in her hand. "How's she doin'?"   
      
   "Her vitals are strong, and that's a good sign."   
      
   "But?"   
      
   "But she's been through something very traumatic,   
   and we're concerned about her," she replied,   
   setting the chart back down on the night stand   
   and checking her IV line. "I'm going to need to   
   check a few more things so if you'll excuse me   
   I think now would be a good time to take a break   
   for a few minutes."   
      
   He didn't want to leave, not for a few minutes,   
   not for a few seconds.   
      
   What if during that time, she looked for him and   
   he wasn't there?   
      
   No, he wasn't going to leave, and no one could   
   make him.   
      
   "I'd rather stay," he said firmly.   
      
   Amy looked at him, at the weariness on his face,   
   at the guilt in his eyes, and started to lift   
   the sheet off Scully's legs.  "Okay, but could   
   you stand over there please? I need some room."   
      
   "Thank you," he said, rubbing his forehead, then   
   walking over by the window.   
      
   The rain had let up some from earlier, but looking   
   down at the parking lot, he could see that it was   
   covered with ice now, and he could see his own   
   car, blanketed in white, frozen in place.   
      
   And that was how he felt now too, blanketed in   
   guilt, his life frozen in a time and place he   
   didn't want to be.   
      
   ~~~~   
      
   When her eyes opened, Donnie Pfaster was gone,   
   and she wasn't dead.   
      
   But there was blood and there were candles and   
   there was glass on the floor around her.   
      
   And she couldn't move, couldn't lift her arms,   
   couldn't feel her hands.   
      
   Couldn't stop her body from shaking.   
      
   She turned her head, looking for him, listening   
   for the sound of his footsteps, the heaviness of   
   his breathing, the running of cold water, but he   
   was gone.   
      
   Thank God, he was gone.   
      
   Breathing a sigh of relief, she closed her eyes   
   and let the tears flow.   
      
   ~~~~   
      
   He didn't feel like sitting anymore.   
      
   The nurse had left a few minutes ago, and he'd   
   been pacing back and forth in front of her bed,   
   thinking about Donnie Pfaster.   
      
   If he ever saw him again, he'd kill him.   
      
   He didn't care what the consequences would be.   
   If he saw him, he would take him down.   
      
   And he would feel no remorse.   
      
   ~~~~   
      
   When she opened her eyes the second time, she   
   didn't know where she was.   
      
   But she knew that something wasn't right.   
      
   Her hands felt strange and when she tried to wiggle   
   her fingers, it felt like thousands of tiny needles   
   were poking into her all at once, digging underneath   
   her skin, scraping at her flesh.   
      
   She tried to lift her hands, to see what was wrong,   
   but she couldn't move them away from her sides. They   
   were thick and heavy and warm and no matter what she   
   did, she couldn't get them to move.   
      
   What the hell had happened to her?   
      
   Turning her head as far as she could manage, she   
   looked to her left, then to her right, and that's   
   when she saw the bloody knife.   
      
   And that's when she knew.   
      
   ~~~~   
      
   He was exhausted.   
      
   He hadn't slept all night, instead spending some   
   of his time at the hospital with Scully, some of   
   his time working with the police to find Pfaster.   
      
   It was a waste of time.   
      
   Not only had they not gotten any leads as to his   
   whereabouts, but they had made even more of a   
   mess out of Scully's apartment.   
      
   Though he knew they had to check everywhere, he   
   hated how they had rummaged through her private   
   belongings, how they tossed her most treasured   
   items aside as they tried to find anything that   
   would help them find Pfaster.   
      
   But even more than that, he hated the fact that   
   that sick son of a bitch had come into her home   
   and done the same thing.   
      
   Yes, if he ever saw Donald Addie Pfaster again,   
   he'd kill him.   
      
   And no one could stop him.   
      
   ~~~~   
      
   She didn't know how long she'd been lying there   
   or how long it had been since Donnie had left,   
   but she knew one thing.   
      
   She needed him.   
      
   Despite her need to be independent and strong,   
   she needed him to come rescue her now, to burst   
   into this room, scoop her up into his arms, and   
   take her away from here, away from the pain.   
      
   But most of all she needed to look into his eyes   
   and hear him say that she was going to be okay.   
      
   Her body uncontrollably shaking now, she squeezed   
   her eyes shut and called out his name as loud as   
   she could.   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)