An anonymous Tumblr user requested a classic "Who did this to you?" trope for a prompt and this is the result!

Something they'd learned in their multiple road trips across the country was that sometimes it was easier to find a bar than a gas station on the side of the road, and when nature called, beggars couldn't be choosers.

"You sonuvabitch!"

Mulder was taking significantly longer than she was and, being he had the keys and it was freezing outside, she was resigned to standing by the jukebox and watching two burly men fight over a thin, young woman.

It was getting pretty violent, and she was irritated that the customers and the staff seemed more amused than concerned regarding the whole exchange. She hadn't seen the beginning of the fight to know who was who or what one of these fine individuals she should be rooting for, but she knew it was escalating and didn't want it to get out of hand.

She didn't like getting in the middle of bar fights, not that she really had any precedents to base that off of, but as a general principle, she liked to stay away from drunk and rowdy men. However, in her years of working with the FBI, she learned her judicial duty often conflicted with her desire to stay away from trouble. That, and she wasn't going to stand by when she saw one of the over six foot burly men shove the diminutive girl into the bar.

"Hey!" she shouted, her voice going unheard amongst the cacophony of swearing and punching.

She'd been walking over to them and when she got close enough she grabbed the forearm of one of the men, the same one who had shoved the girl, and tried again. "I'm with the FBI, I have to ask you to stop righ-"

The man ripped his arm out of her grasp and whirled around, nearly knocking her off her feet. "Or what, bitch?" he growled.

She glared at him and didn't back down. "Or I'll be forced to put you under arrest for public intoxication and disorderly conduct."

"Oh really?" he asked, grabbing her forcefully by her right forearm and causing her to stand on her tip-toes.

"No, Johnny! Don't!" the girl screamed as Scully tried to pry his hand from her arm.

"Shut the fuck up!" he screamed at her before turning his attention back to Scully. While still addressing the other woman, he seethed, "Bitch needs to learn not to interrupt the big boys."

Before Scully had a chance to realize what was happening, his fist came up and cracked down straight on her face. Hard. "No!" she heard a shrill voice scream as the man let her go.

In the periphery, she could sense that the two men had started beating on each other again, with renewed rage and anger, but all she could focus on was the intense burning sensation on her face. She put out a hand to lean against the counter as the other clutched her face. Fuck this hurt.

She felt someone grab her wrist and she jumped in place, her eyes shooting open as she used the other hand to grab her gun. "Hey, hey, it's me," she heard as she registered Mulder's concerned face standing in front of her. "What happened?" he asked, anger mixing with worry as he pulled her hand away.

She knew she had blood oozing from the corner of her mouth since that's where the punch had landed, square on her jaw. She'd been so focused on how bad it felt, that she hadn't thought about how bad it looked until she saw Mulder's eyes widen as his nostrils flared.

He cupped her jaw with feather-like tenderness and started raking his thumb over the spot where her lips met, gathering some blood on his thumb only to examine it upon pulling his finger back.

She saw the bright crimson on the pad of his finger before he did, so she didn't miss seeing the way his jaw clenched when he saw the tangible evidence of her pain on him. Mulder reached into his pocket, brought out a handkerchief and gently placed one hand under her chin for stability while the other one gently wiped away the remaining streak of blood.

Scully felt her breathing hitch from being under Mulder's direct attention and her heart was pounding as she saw how truly and utterly pissed he was that she'd been hurt while he was away. His eyes were intense and focused, which is probably why her heart skipped a beat when his gaze flickered up to meet hers. "Who did this to you?" his voice was quiet and tense, his anger barely restrained. It was as if he was trying to remain as tender as he could for her while not being able to conceal his anger.

"The brown haired one," she replied, motioning behind her to the yelling men. "He pushed the girl at the bar and I tried to get them to stop." She was glad Mulder seemed to be able to understand her being she felt like she could barely open her mouth to get the words out.

"Hang on," he murmured before letting go and walking past her.

"Mulder, wait-" she began fruitlessly. She turned around just in time to see him grab the man by the collar of his shirt and whip him away from the other man, pinning him to the bar angrily before punching him in the face as hard as he could.

"You like hitting women?" Mulder yelled before punching the guy again.

Scully stood there in open shock. Sure, she knew Mulder was protective of her, but she'd never seen him pull the 'knight in shining armor' routine so brutally in front of her. She was a progressive woman, she didn't feel the need to be rescued or have her honor protected by any man, but she'd be lying if she said seeing Mulder do it wasn't extremely hot.

His jaw was bulging from how tightly it was clenched and she could practically feel the fury radiating off him. "That was my partner you hit you fucking moron," Mulder yelled yet again punching the guy.

She was just about to step up and tell him to stop when he whirled the guy around and cuffed him. "You're under arrest for assaulting a federal officer," he stated tauntingly.

Someone must've had the good instincts to call the cops while the fight was happening, because just as Mulder was saying that, they came in and took over for him, grabbing the other man while they were at it.

Mulder rolled up his sleeves while practically growling at the man. But as soon as his attention turned to her, all animosity washed away and was replaced with concern. She still was pressing his handkerchief to her mouth while watching him as he reached up to grab her face gently. "Are you okay? Do we need to go to the hospital?"

She shook her head before saying, "Are all my teeth still there?" She'd been raking her tongue over them for the past minute, and while she thought they all were, her mouth was so numb with pain that she couldn't fully tell. She bared her teeth to him with a grimace and he took a moment to fully make sure for her.

"Yeah, still there," he confirmed, raising a hand to stroke her hair. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner."

"Don't be," she reassured, shaking her head.

"How bad is it?" he asked.

"My face aches," she admitted with humourless laughter.

He gently raised a hand to cup under her chin as he stroked the injury with his thumb. His touch was almost airless, yet the comfort of the gesture was powerful. "Let's go find an actual gas station so we can get you some ice and pain medicine," he murmured.

She was about to tell him she was fine until she caught the gentle pleading in his gaze. Her pain was his and since he couldn't absolve it from her, he could at least do this. "Okay," she nodded as she let him lead her out of the bar.