Lest We Forget

by Winnie Kruger

Date Archived: 03/10/02
Category: Drama, Story, Romance, Relationship, RST, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Denial Fic  
Pairing: Scully/Reyes     Implied MSR, Implied Reyes/Other
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Is Reyes as strong as she seems?






Reyes awoke spooned up behind a sleeping Scully. The rail of the narrow hospital bed was digging into her back. Reyes squinted at her watch. It looked like 7:05 am.

Despite the discomfort of lying like a sardine in the bed, Monica didn't want to budge. She was afraid that if she left Dana's arms, she wouldn't be allowed back. The last thing either of them needed was a one-night stand.

Monica traced her fingers lightly over the tattoo on Dana's lower back. She hadn't imagined Dana would be the type to get a tattoo. Then again, she hadn't imagined Dana would be intrested in women either. The snake on Dana's flawless skin reminded Monica of Anjie, though her tattoos had been more numerous, and louder.

Eventually Monica had to untangle herself from Scully. She no longer had the bladder of a sixteen year old.

Monica wondered what Anjie would've thought. Instead of falling for a brooding, lusty girl-on-the-edge, Monica had chosen a somewhat straight-laced woman that kept her heart under lock and key. Dana hadn't been with a woman before either, as far as Monica could tell.

Monica got two cups of watery coffee for herself and Dana. The bitter aroma found it's way to Dana's nostrils, and awoke her.

"This is one thing I've missed" said Dana, smiling as a single tear rolled down her cheek. Monica knew she was thinking of Mulder.

Monica and Dana shared a warm good morning kiss. As their lips parted, Dana reached up and stroked the other woman's cheek lovingly.

No words needed to be spoken between them to show the necessity and gratitude of their relationship.

After breakfast, Monica left Scully alone to think. Scully's life had changed quite a bit in the last 36 hours, and she would need time to reassess her priorities.

Monica sat alone on the lumpy sofa by the nurses station. She chain-smoked, barely noticing the "NO SMOKING" sign painted in massive block letters on the opposite wall. The out-of-date newspaper she had been reading now served as an ad-hoc ashtray.

She had to keep Dana's affections. If she didn't, she would never be able to let go of Angie.

Angie.

How could she go on without her?

Monica's face grimaced with sorrow. The ashes in the newspaper spilled onto her lap and her favorite pair of jeans.

THE MOURGE
LATER
Monica walked alongside the wall of storage chambers. Here eyes briefly scanned each nameplate.

A pain-inducing nameplate jumped out at her.

Angela Burmeister.

Monica tugged on the drawer. With a little force it slid open, revealing a deathly pale woman. The skin of the corpse was littered with scabs.

"Anjie" whispered Monica.

She collapsed on her knees and took one of Anjie's hands. It was as cold and hard as death itself.

Monica's head rested on the edge of the gurney, and her tears pooled on the icy metal.

"I shouldn't have gone."

Monica rose and moved towards Anjie's once-pretty face. She dipped her head to kiss the blue lips, to kiss death itself and in turn to receive it.

"Please Monica" Scully's voice was tense "leave her. Live the life that she couldn't."

Monica stood up, perhaps too quickly. Her legs buckled beneath her, and Scully wasn't quick enough to catch her before Monica's head cracked against the ground.

Dana ran around yelling for help, very much the frantic partner.

Once Monica had been taken into care, and Anjie was padlocked in her icy cell, Dana talked to Monica's nurse.

"She's got a severe concussion. She'll need to rest for a while" said the nurse, who looked exhausted "There may also be some trauma-induced damage, but nothing permanent."

It was Scully's turn to sit the bedside vigil. She clutched Monica's hand and stroked it gently as she prayed. Maybe death was worse then not knowing.

Scully pushed her thoughts of Mulder to the back of her mind. She couldn't bear to process them right now.

She laid her head beside Monica's slender hand and allowed herself to weep.

What if she was in love with Monica? How could she choose between her and Mulder?

Monica's eyes flickered open.

"Anjie?" she said groggily.

Scully lifted her head. "No, it's me Dana."

Monica looked confused "Who's Dana?"

"Me, I'm Dana" explained Scully "we work together, we slept together, remember?"

Monica shook her head.

"Try and get some rest" choked Dana, squeezing Monica's hand before she left.

Dana found a bathroom. As soon as she was locked safely in a cubicle she broke down. No number of tears could make Monica remember.

Scully felt truly cursed. She lunged violently out of the cubicle and thrust her fist against the long mirror that hung above the sink. The shards of broken glass shredded her knuckles to ribbons of bloodied skin.

Scully steadied herself against the sink then lowered herself onto the floor, waiting for unconsciousness to arrive.

Dana awoke. Blood and dirt were smeared onto her ivory silk shirt, and glass was sprinkled in her messy copper hair.

She pulled herself up onto her knees, then shakily onto her feet. She attempted to brush the dust off her expensive suit, but it was in vain.

Dana washed the dried blood from her hands and forced herself to ignore the burning pain that the water caused.

She had to be strong, not only for Monica's sake, but for her own.

Scully returned to Monica's bedside. Still she slept, reaching out for someone, probably Anjie, in her troubled dreams.

As Monica awoke, she felt the fresh cuts on Dana's wrists and hands.

"Anjie, don't hurt yourself, you can talk to me." Monica stroked Scully's hand.

Scully bit her lip and spoke "Monica, Anjie isn't here. It's Dana." Scully pulled out her ID and handed it to Monica.

"See there. My name is Dana Scully, not Anjie."

Monica nodded blankly.

Scully hugged her, glad to have back at least part of one of the people in her life.

"What happened to your hands?" asked Monica solemnly, stroking the broken skin softly with her thumb-tips.

"Just a little accident" said Scully, feigning nonchalancy.

"You don't mangle your knuckles like that in an accident unless it's with a food processor" Monica gave a shy smile. "Hurting yourself might feel good sometimes, but I assure you it isn't. It isn't going to help anyone in the long run."

Monica examined the wounds more closely "Go see if there's some Dettol in that cabinet."

Scully brought over some cotton balls with the Dettol, and Monica began to clean Scully's wounds with it. She cringed with pain as the alcohol set about cleaning her cuts.

Once Monica was done, she and Dana sat hand in hand.

"I want to show you something" said Monica. She turned her hands palm-up.

Scully traced a finger along a deep scar on Monica's right wrist. A similar scar ran along the left one.

"God, you didn't seem like the type" breathed Scully "are you okay?"

"I'm fine" Monica replied "it's been twenty years. Tough adolescence, you know the story." She explained.

"How did you get into the FBI?" asked Scully.

"I used to put makeup on my wrists every day at the academy. No one ever noticed."

"When I was a thirteen, I used to sneak outside and smoke my mothers cigarettes. The only reason I did it was because if my father found out, he would've killed me" Scully reminisced.

Monica and Scully hugged again, then Scully kissed her way along Monica's slender neck.

Monica smoothed her hands over Dana's back, briefly cupping her pleasantly round bottom. Scully shrugged her jacket off.

Dana shuddered, half in arousal, half from the vague unfamiliarity of the situation.

"Is it okay that we do this?" asked Monica, ever concerned for Dana's welfare.

Scully nodded "It's okay Monica."

She slipped her arms around Monica's neck and kissed her, deeply but at a snail's pace. Every millimeter of Monica's lips were caressed by Dana's thorough kisses.

Monica pushed Dana's shirt back and sponged a path of wet smooches between Dana's breasts. She stopped and unhooked Dana's bra. Then she took on of the rose pink buds in her mouth, and the other between her fingers. She was delighted when they hardened. Dana let out a continuous moan, barely audible.

Dana pushed Monica away so she could gather her senses long enough for her to get out of her shirt.

Monica's hospital gown also landed on the floor.

Monica sat in the Vee of Dana's legs. Dana's arms lay loosely on Monica's flat stomach.

As Scully's confidence grew, she snaked one of her hands between Monica's legs, and reached the other up to caress Monica's breasts.

Monica released a raspy breath as Dana touched her finger to Monica's clit. Monica guided Dana's hand, teaching her the ins and outs of Monica's body.

As Dana fondled Monica, Monica became faintly aware of Dana's slick cunt pressed against her back.

Whimpers escaped from Monica's lips as she neared orgasm, and her hips ground against Dana's hand.

"Anjie" the gasp left Monica's lips, just before she orgasmed.

Monica's mind came back to reality as the blood returned to her head. Dana's face was nuzzled into her neck.

"Please Monica" she mumbled softly to herself "remember me." Dana's tears rolled off her cheek and onto Monica's neck.

As Scully wept into Monica's shoulder, she silently vowed to make Monica remember.

They had both lost someone precious to them, but by being together, they had begun to fill the gaping holes left in their lives.


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