Chapter Text
She was wearing an ugly red sweater her mother had gotten her for Christmas last year. It was itchy and terribly unflattering on her figure, but it was cold rainy weather and all of her warmer clothes were in the laundry. Their office was the pinnacle of chaos, with newspaper clippings strewn about on the desk and half read files scattered on the floor (since there was no room on the desk.)
That day, she and Mulder had been researching the Lochness Monster. Scully had studied for four years to get a degree in science, and had gone to Stanford University for medicine. And here she was, looking at blurry pictures of what Mulder swore to be an underwater beast.
This was not the first, nor the last time she had questioned her career choices.
She was in the middle of attempting to sort out Mulder’s mish mash of files while Mulder was busy reading article after article, writing with a pen and murmuring to himself. Their labor was interrupted by a quiet knocking on their door. Mulder leaned back in his seat, prodding the pen against his lip “Come in.”
Scully stood straighter, and attempted to hide the mess of files behind her while simultaneously trying to flatten her clothing. Skinner’s secretary, a small dark haired girl whose name Scully sadly hadn’t remembered, hesitantly opened the door. Her posture read as a mixture of awkward and uncomfortable. They were the F.B.I’s most unwanted, weren’t they?
The girl cleared her throat as she took in the disarray of the office, her dark eyes gazing wall to wall. “Um, Director Skinner would like to meet you in his office.”
“Can it wait? As you can see my partner and I are up to our necks in work here.” Mulder replied, still leaning in his chair.
“He said now.” She argued politely.
Scully didn’t want to get on Skinner’s bad side, more so than Mulder already was. So she quickly gave Mulder a ‘look’, before following the secretary up to the top floor. Mulder sighed and followed suit.
She really regretted her choice of outfit now.
-
As they sat across from Skinner at his desk, Scully couldn’t help but feel like she was in elementary school again, in trouble with the principal.
Skinner seemed tense, but that wasn’t unusual for him. He was leaning towards the desk, resting his chin against his fist and cracking his neck, telltale signs of nervousness. Scully chuckled silently to herself, she felt like Mulder when he was profiling somebody.
“Tell me about Willowcrest.” Skinner spoke up, not bothering to elaborate.
A look of confusion spread across Mulder’s face, but before he could say anything Scully interrupted.
“It’s a small town in Mississippi. Mostly known for its agriculture, it’s a typical small town.” She said and shrugged her shoulders, trying to appear casual in her knowledge but she knew Mulder was giving her a “How on earth do you know about this?” kind of look. Skinner cocked his head, so Scully continued, simply listing facts. “It’s been around since before the civil war and it’s about a forty mile drive from Lake Providence.”
Scully wondered why Skinner was so curious. No way he called them over for a geography lesson.
“I have an assignment for you two. In Willowcrest, two little girls were found murdered, and a third is currently missing.” Scully watched Mulder lean forward in interest. Despite the case not involving an X file, it seemed to peak his interest. Scully, on the other hand, had absolutely no interest in going to Willowcrest. She sat uncomfortably in her seat, rocking slightly to ease the tension.
“I’ll have you two drive out tomorrow. We’re still trying to figure out a motel, however.”
“I have family there.” Scully suddenly spoke up. Skinner raised his brows and a tidal wave of relief seemed to wash over his features. “Perfect, would you be able to contact them so the two of you have a place to stay while working?”
Scully didn’t know how to explain she hadn’t spoken to her aunt in ages. Not since Melissa’s funeral. Instead she gave him an “I’ll try.”
The agents were dismissed, told that they would have the proper files and police information emailed to them asap. As they walked down the hall and towards the elevator, Mulder was analyzing her, seemingly trying to figure out some kind of case of his own.
The elevator was crowded with numerous other agents, so she had stuck close to Mulder’s side. “I didn’t know you lived down south.” He spoke up, enough for only Scully to hear.
“Barely. I stayed there for a few summers with my sister. I wouldn’t count that as living there.” She replied curtly.
“You don’t seem particularly excited to go back.” He said, not looking her in the eye, instead choosing to stare at the elevator door.
Scully didn't want to dig too deep into it. She never liked dwelling on the past, especially that specific part. If she could, she would have had Willowcrest permanently erased from her memory. If that was even possible.
“I’m not.” Thankfully, Mulder seemed to get the hint, and instead chose to talk about what they would get for lunch.
They settled on chinese take out.
-
Scully had neither pets nor plants to worry about. She had once had a boston fern, but the poor thing died of neglect about a month after Scully was first assigned to work on the X files. She had packed herself a suitcase with enough clothing to last about a week, a sort of reassurance that she would not have to stay in Willowcrest very long. She had delayed packing for their trip all night, so she had been in a small rush the following morning. She was sure Mulder was already on time, waiting outside her apartment with the rental car.
She gathered her things and gave one final look to her apartment as a good-bye. A picture of herself and Melissa hung in her hallway, it was an old photo of them. They were about twelve to thirteen years old. Melissa’s arms were wrapped around her sister’s and Scully was looking up at her, while Melissa stared straight into the camera. The photo now seemed to be judging Scully. It stared at her scornfully.
She was not excited for this case in the least. She hoped they either found the suspect, or it would be a dead end and they would have to pack up and leave Willowcrest behind them. It was an ugly thought, but it was the truth.
-
The drive to Willowcrest was about about a day and ten hours, so Mulder and Scully had decided to pay for a night at a cheap, roadside motel. The closest one was 2 kilometers away, and the sun had already begun to set.
“So, what kind of people reside in Willowcrest, Mississippi?” Mulder questioned. They had managed to both avoid discussing the case, but Scully supposed it was inevitable to have to talk about it.
Scully smirked. “White trash and old money.”
Mulder chuckled. “And what were you?”
“Trash, of course. Related to old money.”
Willowcrest had two sides in town, the nice, old houses that had been built in the civil war. Houses with porch swings and dining rooms and staircases. The other side had chain link fences, overgrown lawns and small houses.
Mulder laughed at her joke. “What’s your aunt like? She’s your Mom’s sister, right?”
Scully nodded. “You wouldn’t know it, though. They’re complete opposites.” Lydia Cordell was nothing like Margaret Scully. Scully’s mother was a warm, caring figure. All Scully could remember about her aunt Lydia was a cold, boney presence. Lips sewn tight in a permanent frown and constantly disapproving eyes.
“Should I be nervous to meet her?” Mulder asked as he signaled to turn left.
Scully smiled and looked at him. “Very.”
They soon pulled into the motel and checked in with the Bureau credit card. Two separate rooms, with an adjoining door.
Scully ran herself a bath, stepping into the hot water carefully. She leaned her head back against the wall of the tub, closing her eyes and taking a deep inhale. She slowly sunk the back of her head into the water, so that all that remained out of the water was her face. When she raised her head back up, the water making her hair heavier, she noticed a small pubic hair floating in the water.
She immediately got out of the tub, not bothering to get a second towel to dry her hair. Scully laid on the motel bed, her wet hair beginning to soak the pillow. She began to close her eyes, tired from the long drive.
Melissa’s laugh rang out. Aunt Lydia hadn’t known the two girls had snuck out through the back door and grabbed their bicycles, the two cycling down the empty road. The cicadas were screaming loudly and the hot summer sun beat down on their tanned cheeks.
Scully was eleven years old and already felt she was more grown up than the other kids her age. She would often leave by herself, going off into the forest to play or swim when Melissa didn’t want to hang out with her clingy baby sister.
“Do you think Aunt Lydia knows we left?” Scully called out to her sister.
Melissa giggled once more, her bike racing down the hill. “You better hope not!”
…
It was a hot summer day, not a cloud in sight. Scully had escaped her Aunt Lydia’s watchful glare, biking herself out to the forest where she knew there was a pond. Melissa had told her about it yesterday, she and some of her older friends had gone there with some boys.
The pond was on the smaller size, with a large willow tree next to it with a rope attached to a branch that the kids would use to jump into the water.
Excitedly, Scully dumped her bike next to a bush and took off her T-shirt and denim shorts, leaving them piled next to her bike.
She laid back in the water for a few minutes, swimming lazily back and forth before she heard screaming. The sound of footsteps crashing through the bushes and laughing made her heart freeze. Not knowing what to do, and feeling vulnerable, Scully lowered herself in the water, her dark red curls hidden.
A group of boys the same age as her walked close by, holding some kind of rag. Each of them had a BB gun.
Scully knew now that what they had been holding had not been a rag, but some kind of small animal the boys had shot for sport.
The boys hadn’t noticed her, so Scully felt brave enough to fully lift her head up.
The tallest boy, a skinny kid with gangly limbs, looked over and saw her. He pointed his gun at her, mimicking a shooting sound and laughed.
“Show us your tits!” He called out, laughing hysterically. Scully didn’t think it was very funny.
The boys, losing interest, ran back off into the woods.
Scully hated to admit it, but she felt rattled. Something about the situation scared her to her core, enough to make her want to go back to her Aunt’s home.
Along the way back, she noticed something she had missed earlier. A small wooden shack. Curiosity got the better of her, despite her gut screaming at her to run, to bike as fast as she could away from the woods.
The wooden floors creaked beneath her sneakers as she cautiously crept inside.
Inside the shack, were dozens of small animals, all of which had been skinned and hung along the walls and ceiling. Some were older than others. The smell was almost unbearable.
Something caught her eye though. A single wall covered with photographs instead of animals. Scully stepped closer to get a better look.
The pictures were of women. They were all in different poses, in various states of undress. Scully recognized the photos as being something from the dirty magazines their priest was always warning the teenagers about.
Scully ran out the wooden shack and hopped on her bicycle, getting as far away from what she saw as she could.
But those photos stuck with her.
Scully opened her eyes drearily. When she checked the clock next to her bed it read as 3:03 am. She knew she wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep.
The memory of those photos involuntarily made her clit pulse. She tried to ignore it, recounting separate events to distract herself.
A memory of Mulder flashed in her mind. It was a simple memory, they had been sitting in the office together, at work, and he had of course been chewing on sunflower seeds. His tongue expertly swished around the hollow material, flicking it quickly before spitting it into the garbage can.
Scully adjusted herself in bed before creeping a finger down her pajama shorts. She gently thumbed at her clit, a small rush of pleasure settled down her spine. She rubbed a finger up and down her labia as she continued circling her clit.
Scully sighed quietly.
Her mind flashed back to Mulder. The way he prodded at his mouth with the pen. The small bite marks he had left in it. She trailed to his hands. The way they rested on the steering wheel. How they swept through his hair whenever he pushed it back. When he would gently place a large, strong hand against the small of her back to guide her-
Immediately, her cunt clenched around nothing, and a buzz of pleasure wove its way through her body as she stilled, letting out a small groan. She felt a trail of wetness soak through her underwear, her thighs uncomfortably tacky.
Shame, regret and disgust coursed through her veins as the physical pleasure subsided.
That morning, Scully went to the small concession stand and did something she hadn’t done since her college years.
She bought a pack of cigarettes.