Subject:Through the Darkness by Kronos
Date: Mon, 7 Sep 1998

Title: Through the Darkness
Author: Kronos
E-Mail Address: [email protected]
Rating: PG
Category: SA
Spoilers: Takes place after Detour and spans Post Modern Prometheus
Keywords: Mulder/Scully UST, Mulder/Scully/Skinner Friendship

Summary: Scully and Skinner strive to reach Mulder through fever-
induced hallucinations, following the events of the episode 'Detour'.

Disclaimer: The X-Files characters herein belong to 1013 Productions
and Fox Broadcasting. Usage is made without authorization but with
utmost respect.

Archive: Anywhere appropriate with notice to author and name left
attached.

Author Notes: Since the feedback after my first short story, Fragile
Fortress, was so positive, I decided to try another. I have always been
a bit confused about the episode 'Post-Modern Prometheus' (which
aired right after 'Detour') and this is my attempt to make sense of what
it meant and how it fit into the show's timeline. Feedback is greatly
appreciated and avidly anticipated.

Acknowledgments: Thanks go to Sherry Hopkins for suggesting a
follow-on to 'Detour'. My sincerest appreciation goes to Julie for
beta-reading, making excellent suggestions, and continuing to keep me
from using words which do not exist except in my own private
dictionary.

*******************************************
Through the Darkness
by Kronos
([email protected])
*******************************************

The enmity was palpable, charging the very air. Mulder could feel it,
there in the room, the animosity reaching with grasping fingers to
prickle his spine and raise the hair on the back of his neck. He strode
forward quickly and grabbed the suitcase off the bed, unwilling to
spend any more time or energy trying to understand secrets he was
convinced had remained hidden for almost five centuries.

He was too tired to struggle with it now. Way the hell too tired. And
sore. He walked to the open door, but turned to look back into the
room once more, convinced that the source of the hatred he felt
surrounding him emanated from within. He considered the apparent
emptiness once more, sweeping his eyes from left to right. The
hesitation spanned only a few seconds, but was enough to cause his
partner to sigh audibly behind him.

He reached to pull the door closed, the movement awkward as he still
held the suitcase in his right hand. His left arm was pulled close to his
chest, the hand slightly elevated so that the throbbing at his shoulder
was reduced. The slightest movement sent streaks of pain shooting
through his chest and his arm -- resonating through his head so that
spots danced before his eyes. He'd learned not to move his arm over
the past few hours.

Scully was waiting for him by the car and slammed the trunk lid shut
after he put his suitcase in next to hers. He raised his right hand to his
forehead and wiped at the sweat that had collected there. He saw that
his partner was already moving to the driver's side, and he made no
objection for once, thankful that he'd be able to rest for a bit. He
focused on her more clearly, blinking slowly, and realized that she'd
changed clothes. He walked around to the passenger's side and
opened the door, then slipped in gingerly, careful not to jar his
shoulder. The headrest offered a much-needed support for his
pounding head.

Mulder sighed then, the exhaustion that had been creeping up on him
finally taking its toll. He rolled his head to the left carefully as the
car
pulled out of the lot and onto the road that would lead them back to the
forest. He stared at his partner for a few moments, remembering their
joking camaraderie of the previous night. It had felt so good, despite
the hunger, the pain, and the cold. He decided to dig at her a bit more
and had to concentrate hard to get the right joking tone. It was
becoming more and more difficult to think clearly.

"Hey, Scully, if I didn't know you better, I'd think you used the
excuse of packing up our things as a way to grab a shower on the sly.
But I know that couldn't be. I know you wouldn't come back to
civilization and get cleaned up, knowing that your partner -- your
injured partner -- was stuck with Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum
answering endless and meaningless questions for the local cops."

He smiled more broadly at the look of guilt that she tried to hide so
ineffectively. And then laughed when she did, as she finally gave up
the pretext of innocent ignorance.

"I'm sorry, Mulder, I couldn't help it. I could barely keep my eyes
open and thought it might help to wake me up."

His heart skipped a beat as she turned towards him and smiled,
saying, "And I have to admit, it did feel good to change into clean
clothes."

He rolled his head back to the front, still smiling and closed his eyes.
The idea of a shower and clean clothes teased him, taunted him,
invaded his thoughts and consumed him. God, that would be heaven.
To be clean and warm. A chill ran unbidden down his spine, causing
him to move slightly in the seat. He had to bite his lip to keep in the
gasp as the shooting pain reminded him why it was best to stay still.
He started breathing once more as the pain began to fade away and he
opened his eyes, turning his head to the left just enough to verify that
Scully hadn't noticed anything. An overwhelming sense of relief
washed over him as he saw that she was concentrating on the road and
not on his physical condition.

She'd had enough to worry about lately. She certainly didn't need his
groaning and whining to add to her plate. He swallowed awkwardly,
his throat dry and scratchy, and said, "So, any idea whether we can
catch a flight out tonight? What's the plan?"

His partner responded immediately, saying, "I had the Tallahassee
office make some travel arrangements for us. We're all driving there
together. There aren't any connections that'll get us home that late, so
I'm afraid we'll be stuck there overnight but our traveling companions
will be able to catch a flight out since their only going to Atlanta. We
can drop them off at the airport on the way into town."

He rolled his head towards her once more, tearing his eyes away from
the unending blend of trees and underbrush that had filled his vision,
and replied, "Does this mean we have to listen to their furniture tower
building adventures for the next three hours?"

She grinned at him before replying. "I suppose we could both claim
exhaustion and sleep all the way there." After a brief pause she added,
"Or pretend to sleep at least."

He summoned a wry grin he didn't really feel and said, "I think I
could manage the real thing, Scully. No pretending necessary." He
closed his eyes then and concentrated on not allowing his chest to
move when he breathed. It was a bit tricky, breathing being so
important to the human condition after all, but he managed to get pretty
close to complete nonmovement.

He heard a rustling to his left, but ignored it, concentrating on the
simple task of breathing without moving. It was taking all his energy,
so he missed the fact that his partner kept looking at him.

Her voice got through to him, though, when she said, "Hey, Mulder.
You don't look too good. Are you feeling all right?"

The small smile found its way to his face almost immediately, and he
was filled with warmth at the knowledge that his partner was worried
about him. He dragged his eyes open and turned his head towards
her, careful not to jostle his left shoulder, and looked at her. She was
tense, sitting straight and tall in the seat, eyes now staring at the road
ahead. But every once in a while, she'd glance over to look at him for
a few seconds before dragging her eyes back to the road once more.
Her forehead was scrunched in concern and her lips were pursed, as if
she were fighting to keep from saying something she might later
regret.

"I'm okay, Scully. Just tired." He thought back quickly to all the
times he and Scully had played the 'I'm fine' game and decided that
for once, he'd avoid falling into that trap. He opened his mouth to tell
her about his shoulder, but she'd turned back to the road and was
already speaking to him before he got the chance.

"I can understand that. So am I. It'll be great to get back home."

He was tired of rolling his head back and forth so kept it where it was,
allowing him to watch her as she drove. He was content to merely
gaze at her, and to listen as she spoke. Despite what she'd claimed
about not being able to carry a tune, her words were always like music
to his ears.

She turned towards him again and smiled before saying, "I forgot to
tell you, Mulder. When I called the Tallahassee field office, the
secretary told me they were in the middle of a five year review. A
team's been organized with members from various offices across the
country and they just started yesterday. Guess who's heading it up?"

He was confused for a few moments, unsure where she was going
with the question. Then he remembered Skinner's last words to him
as he left the office in disgust after being told about the team building
seminar. The AD had said, 'At least it'll keep you out of trouble for
part of the time I'll be gone.' Shit! Just what he needed. He groaned
audibly at the realization that his boss was going to be in the very town
they were headed to tonight. His boss who'd specifically sent them to
the seminar to keep them out of trouble. His boss who'd be pretty
ticked to discover they got involved in a case of five hundred year old
Moth men when they were supposed to be good little role-playing
agents.

He was slightly perturbed when Scully laughed at his groan. She
turned to him and said, "I can't wait to see Skinner's reaction to the
news that you managed to get out of yet another teaming workshop.
Please let me be there when you tell him the details, Mulder. It'll be
like an early Christmas present, okay?"

He had to laugh, in spite of the pain it caused. She was right, of
course. Skinner would not be pleased. Not at all. "Actually, I was
thinking that maybe you could tell him, Scully. Preferably when I'm
not in the room."

"Oh no you don't. This one's all yours to explain. You are not going
to push this one on me. Not this time."

He smiled again, then couldn't help the grimace that came to his face
when she came to a stop next to the tree stump exhibit. The seatbelt
pulled against his chest, causing his breath to catch and the sweat to
flow once more. He pulled his left arm close to his chest, gripping it
tightly with his right hand, intent on maintaining immobility. The pain
wasn't getting any better. In fact, it seemed to be a bit worse. A lot
worse, actually.

He swallowed hard and concentrated on next moves. He could see
that a crowd of police still roamed the area, with a few K-9 teams
sprinkled throughout the group. Their two traveling companions were
sitting at a picnic table, looking their way and appearing slightly
irritated at being stranded without transportation. Mulder knew that
he'd left somewhat precipitously and probably owed them an apology.

He started to unfold himself, preparing to get out of the car, when he
realized that Scully was staring at him again in concern. "Mulder."

He pulled the car door closed a bit and waited, understanding that
more was coming. His partner was obviously trying to find the right
words.

"Mulder."

It seemed that every time she was ready to actually say something
beyond his name, she stopped, struggling to strike the right chord. He
decided to rescue her. "I'm okay, Scully. Really. I'm tired and my
shoulder and head hurt. It's not like either of those things is
particularly unusual, you know. Not after the night we had."

He waited for her slow nod before smiling at her again, then turning to
open the door. He wanted to get in the back where he wouldn't have
to deal with Tweedle Dum. Hopefully, Scully would also move into
the back seat with him so Tweedle Dumber would leave them alone as
well. He wasn't in the mood or right frame of mind to be generous to
the two other agents. After all, they'd slept in a hotel room last night.
They'd eaten dinner and probably had breakfast this morning. They
were clean and had on clothes that didn't smell like decaying, putrid
flesh, blood, and dirt.

Mulder bit the inside of his lip as he stood up straight -- blinked his
eyes quickly to clear the vision that had clouded over from the
increased pounding in his head and the shooting pain in his shoulder.
He decided that after they dropped the other two agents off at the
Tallahassee airport, he'd confess all to his partner and ask her to drive
him to a hospital. Of course, a trip to the emergency room would also
have the benefit of creating just enough sympathy from his boss that
Skinner might not get too pissed with him.

He smiled to himself at that thought, in spite of the agony, and opened
the back door. He slipped in quickly and settled himself, thankful that
his partner was off talking with the two other agents. At least she
hadn't heard his groans and gasps. He slowly pushed the sleeves of
his shirt up, suddenly feeling overheated, then bunched his jacket up
in the corner and leaned back. It felt good to be still. It felt good to
have the support against his back and neck. It felt good to cross his
left arm against his chest and pull it in tight with his right. It felt
good
enough, in fact, that he closed his eyes and drifted off, no longer
feeling the need to resist succumbing to the tiredness that pulled at
him. Sleep was a welcome release from the pain that had plagued him
for hours.

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

Scully finished up with the police officers and walked back to the car
with the two Atlanta agents. She saw the female agent start to move to
the rear of the car and said, "I'll sit in the back with Mulder, if you
don't mind. I'd really like to stretch out a bit and maybe get a little
sleep on the way to Tallahassee."

"No problem, Agent Scully."

Scully was a bit irritated with these two. They still hadn't caught on to
the fact that she and her partner preferred last names only. Every
sentence out of their mouths had an agent this or an agent that in it.
She nodded politely and moved around to the driver's side, then
opened the back door and slid in with a sigh. They would be on the
road soon, and in just a little over two and a half hours would be
pulling into the Tallahassee airport. Then it would be just her and
Mulder. At least until Skinner caught wind they were in town.

She smiled to herself and looked over at her partner, then froze. She
was turned awkwardly, with one hand pulling the seat belt across her
body, but instead she let it go and scooted a bit closer to the middle of
the back seat. Mulder was obviously fast asleep, but didn't appear to
be resting very comfortably. In fact, it looked like he was hugging his
left arm close to his chest and it seemed that every breath produced a
slight frown on his flushed face. A light coating of sweat dotted his
forehead, yet he appeared to be shivering from cold.

She reached a hand out to his forehead and felt the heat emanating
from inches away. Agent Kinsley was turned in his seat, staring back
at her, a confused and concerned expression on his face. "Everything
all right, Agent Scully?"

She wasn't sure how to answer. Was, in fact, tempted to have the
police call an ambulance. She reached for her partner's right wrist,
disengaging it just slightly from the death grip he had on his left arm,
even in sleep, and wrapped a few fingers around it to check his pulse.
There didn't seem to be anything majorly amiss. Perhaps just a tad
fast. She looked at him closely again and decided that it could wait
until they got to Tallahassee. It was reasonable that he was just worn
out and had gotten sick from being out all night. She was with the
paramedics when they dressed his shoulder wound and was confident
of the care they'd given it. Besides, she was pretty sure Mulder would
object strenuously to any suggestion of a hospital at this point.

She allowed her arm to drop slowly, then shifted back to her side of
the car, eyes still intent on her partner. Then she made a decision and
looked back towards their fellow agents and said, "No, it's okay. I
think Mulder might have picked up a bug. I'll keep an eye on him.
Let's go." She grabbed Kinsley's discarded jacket and draped it over
her partner, careful to tuck it in gently. Then she buckled herself in,
slowly, still debating her course of action.

She was still uneasy, still unsure whether it was the right decision.
But he'd acted fine earlier, just tired and sore. It wasn't really so
unusual that he'd be run down after spending the night outside in the
cold forest, on the hard ground, with no blankets and no food.
Especially after being swiped by that Moth man. A shiver ran through
her at the thought, as she remembered the eerie green and brownish
skin that blended into the surroundings, chameleon-like in both tint
and texture.

She angled herself in the seat so she was braced against the corner of
the back and side, much the way her partner was, and then settled in to
watch him for the next two hours. But the incessant chatter from the
front seat, the whir of the air conditioner, and the monotonous road
noise lulled her into a doze, against which she had little power to fight.
She was vaguely aware of the two agents in the front seat discussing a
case of a woman who had claimed to have been held captive and
impregnated, but she couldn't summon the energy to concentrate on
their words. The banter washed over her and she fought to keep her
eyes open so that she could watch over Mulder, but it was impossible.
She fell asleep finally, her last thought being that she had to figure out
a way to convince Mulder to rest once they got to Tallahassee. Maybe
even see a doctor.

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

The car hit a bump, causing his head to jerk against the barely
cushioned metal frame. His eyes flew open and he fought back a gasp
as the pain overwhelmed him momentarily. Mulder blinked furiously,
self-conscious of the fact that he wasn't alone and that crying like a
little kid would probably not do much to enhance his already tainted
reputation in the eyes of the two Atlanta agents. He clenched his jaw
and released the grip he had on his left arm long enough to raise his
right hand to his head. There wasn't a bump there, at least not yet, but
with his luck it would surface soon. In the meantime, his entire head
was pounding in tempo to the music Kinsley had playing softly on the
radio. The tune, something that sounded like an old song by Cher,
was soothing and melodious, but only served to send stabs of pain
pounding through his already abused head.

He licked his lips and tried to calm his shaky breathing. Pulled the
folded coat up further in the corner behind him so his head wouldn't
be forced to slam into the side of the car again, then tried to settle back
once more. He glanced to his left and saw that his partner was curled
up in the opposite corner, obviously not bothered by the occasional
bump in the road.

He closed his eyes tightly and tried a biofeedback approach. After a
full minute, he knew it was useless. He'd just have to wait it out until
he could have Scully get him to a doctor where, hopefully, he'd get
some good drugs for the unending pain in shoulder and head. He
listened to the music for a few moments before deciding it was just
way the hell too sugary for him, and then focused on the light banter
of the two agents in the front seat.

Kinsley was saying, "But there was supposedly evidence that she'd
had a tubal ligation. You can't exactly fake something like that, you
know."

To which his partner replied, "But perhaps it wasn't a hundred percent
successful, in which case her claim of being impregnated by a two-
faced mutant monster is an obvious defense mechanism. She just
doesn't want to face the reality that she became impregnated with her
eighteen year old son in the house."

"First of all, I don't think her son was even there. He was off at some
concert or something. And she claims that the son was also a product
of a similar type of ... violation nineteen years before."

"You see? She used the excuse before and it worked so she's just
grasping onto it again. I mean, come on. A two-faced monster breaks
into her house and impregnates her and absolutely no one even realized
she was gone for three days? It sounds like she belongs on the Jerry
Springer Show. It sounds like a case for Agent Mulder."

He smiled internally at the comment and thought to himself, just before
drifting off again, that it did sound intriguing. Maybe he'd look it up
when they got back to DC.

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

The chattering by her ear finally started to make sense, especially when
the arm shaking her shoulder grew more insistent.

A female voice was saying, "Agent Scully. We're here."

"Mmmm. I'm awake." Scully opened her eyes and looked around
quickly, taking in their surroundings. Airport. Tallahassee.
Wonderful. She turned to the right then and saw that Mulder was still
asleep, still looking as if he were uncomfortable and still red-faced
with a fever. She released her belt and moved closer to him, feeling
his forehead as before. It didn't really seem to be any worse, but the
idea of a doctor or even the emergency room was starting to grow on
her.

A voice interrupted her musings. "Agent Scully, we really need to get
going if we're going to catch our flight. Do you need our help with
anything?"

She turned back to the woman and smiled, then slid across the seat and
out, slowly closing the door behind her. "No, that's all right. You
two go. Thank you for driving all the way."

They exchanged quick hand shakes all around and soon Scully was
left standing alone with the keys in her hands. She glanced in through
the back window again and decided directions to a hospital were
definitely in order. No more putting it off. She slipped into the
driver's seat, adjusting it for her height, then pulled out her cell phone.
It rang twice and then was answered by the same secretary she'd
spoken to earlier in the day.

"Janice," she said with surprise, "this is Agent Scully. What are you
doing there so late?" She glanced down at her watch to make sure she
hadn't completely lost track of the time and was reassured to see it
was, indeed, going on nine at night.

"Oh, Agent Scully. I'm so glad you called. I'm helping the AD with
some files he wanted to review tonight. He's a bit of a stickler, isn't
he?" The secretary was obviously smiling at the other end of the line
and evidently hadn't expected an answer because she was already
speaking again. "Agent Scully, when the AD found out you and
Agent Mulder were going to be arriving here tonight, he requested that
I have you stop by the field office. My impression is he's anxious to
talk with you before you head back to DC in the morning."

The woman sounded apologetic, evidently knowing this would not be
welcome news. Scully paused and sighed heavily, trying to decide
what to do now. She reached up and adjusted the rearview mirror so
she could see her partner more clearly.

Janice's voice sounded concerned when the woman asked,
"Everything all right, Agent Scully?"

"Actually, no. In fact, I was calling to get directions to the nearest
hospital. Agent Mulder was injured last night and I'm a bit worried
about him. Is AD Skinner there? Perhaps I could speak with him
quickly."

"I'm so sorry to hear about Agent Mulder. I do hope he'll be okay.
The AD's just in the other room. If you'll hang on for a minute, I'll
tell him you're on the line and transfer the call."

"That'll be fine. Thank you, Janice."

Scully reached up with her free hand and rubbed at her forehead. It
had been an extremely long couple of days, filled with tension,
frustration, confusion, and most importantly, very little sleep. She
glanced in the rearview mirror again and then turned around in the seat
to get a really good look at her partner. He hadn't really moved the
entire trip. His forehead still seemed to scrunch every once in a while
as if in response to some worry or, more likely, pain stimuli. She
wanted to get someplace where she could check that shoulder again.

She jerked a bit when a familiar voice came on the line, deep and
resonant. "Agent Scully, Janice informs me that Mulder was injured
and you're going to the hospital. Could you fill me in, please?"

She nodded, then realized the gesture would do little good over the
phone. "Of course, sir. We were on the way to the seminar when we
got stopped by a roadblock. As we were waiting to pass through, we
discovered there was a missing persons case. We sort of got involved
in it and ended up, through a series of events, getting stranded in the
woods overnight. Agent Mulder had been attacked by something the
previous afternoon -- yesterday -- and while the wound wasn't
particularly serious, spending the night in the damp cold hasn't done
him any good."

She had to give her boss credit. The man didn't seem the least bit
phased to discover they'd gotten involved in a case and been in a life-
threatening situation -- again. "Agent Scully, where are you now and
what is Mulder's condition at present?"

"We're at the airport, sir. We just dropped off the two Atlanta agents.
Mulder's been sleeping ever since we got on the road. I wouldn't say
his condition is serious, but I do want him checked out."

"All right, Scully. I'm putting Janice back on the phone. There's a
hospital not too far from us. What I'd like you to do is come here
first. If anything changes before you get here, give me a call. I'll
have Janice give you my local cell number, as well."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

She heard a muffled conversation and then the sound of the phone
being jostled. Then Janice was back on the line giving her directions.

Some forty minutes later, after a wrong turn which brought her over
the river accidentally, she pulled up in front of the Tallahassee Field
Office. She started pulling out the cell phone to let her boss know they
were there when she heard movement from the back seat. When she
turned to look back, she saw that Mulder was awake and gazing out
the window blearily.

"Hey, partner. How are you feeling?"

He turned back to her, obviously a bit fuzzy from just waking, and
said, "Not too bad." There was a brief pause as he looked straight at
her and grimaced slightly. "Not too good, either."

"I kind of got that impression, Mulder."

"Where are we?"

She watched him shift in the seat so he could see out the window a bit
easier. Saw the clenched jaw, the scrunched forehead, the tight grip
he still had on his left arm. But she answered as if nothing were
amiss. "We're at the Tallahassee Bureau. AD Skinner wanted to talk
with us. I was just about to give him a call to let him know we were
here."

She was a bit surprised to see her partner reach his right hand over and
pop free the seat belt, then reach for the door handle. "Don't call,
Scully. Let's go say hi. Don't you think he'll be happy to see us?"

She had to smile at the playfully innocent expression he'd adopted.
She laughed and said, "I think he'd be happy to see us in one piece
with stories about furniture towers. Somehow, I don't think he'll be
thrilled with the story you're going to tell him."

She jumped out of the car then and started around the other side,
keeping her eyes on her partner. His movements were overly
controlled, but jerky nonetheless. It was obvious he was trying to
minimize movement of his upper body so that when he turned to her,
he turned completely around with no twisting at all.

"Scully, what do you mean the story I'm going to tell him? I thought
we'd established that you were going to break the news. Don't you
remember? I have a very clear recollection of the conversation."

She smiled as she came even with him and responded, "Don't pull that
eidetic memory crap on me, Mulder. It doesn't give you the right to
make things up out of thin air and pass them off as something I've
forgotten. I remember the conversation, too and according to my
recollection, you were going to break the news as an early Christmas
present for me. Is it becoming more clear now?"

They were close to the door and Scully moved ahead to grab it and
swing it open for her partner with a flourish. He had to be feeling
lousy since he didn't make any cracks about the gesture at all. She
looked at him carefully as he passed and saw the strands of hair
sticking to his forehead. Noted the flushed features, drained of almost
all energy. Yet he was still moving, still standing straight and tall,
even though she could see the fingers of his right hand were white
from gripping his left arm so hard.

She moved next to him again and carefully placed her right hand on his
right hand, not wanting to touch the left arm at all. "Mulder, I'd like to
stop by a hospital after we meet with Skinner. I think we need to get
that shoulder looked at."

She was surprised by the almost relieved look he gave her. "No
arguments from me, Scully. This shoulder's killing me here." He
closed his mouth but it seemed that he was considering saying more.
She saw him chew the inside of his lip for a second and sensed he was
debating with himself. She gave him another few moments and then,
sure enough, he went on. "Actually, Scully. My head is killing me,
too. It hasn't gotten any better at all. In fact ..." He paused again and
stopped walking, then turned his entire body towards her before
continuing. "It's gotten much worse over the last few hours and I
keep alternating from boiling up to freezing cold. I think I might have
a fever."

She could tell the admission cost him and wanted nothing more at that
moment than to have the ability to take all the hurt away. "I know,
Mulder. To tell you the truth, I already filled Skinner in a little and
told him we'd be going to the hospital. He said there's one not too far
from here. I hadn't really intended to make you get out of the car here
at all. I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier."

Before even allowing him to respond, she walked around to his other
side and took his right elbow to help guide him. "Come on, partner.
Let's get this over with so we can get you into bed."

She smiled when he joked in a strained voice, "Agent Scully, are you
propositioning me?"

She shook her head in mock disgust and searched out the right
hallway. Janice had given her directions earlier and she knew Skinner
was on the second floor in a conference room. As they got in the
elevator, Mulder leaned back against the wall carefully and closed his
eyes. It seemed that he was in a great deal more pain than she'd
realized earlier and now regretted even getting out of the car. The last
thing he needed right now was to be walking around when every
movement sent shooting pains through his shoulder and head.

The doors opened and she took his arm again and guided him to the
right. If she remembered correctly, the conference room was just
down this hall. She couldn't help looking up at her partner's face
every few seconds and what she saw there was disturbing. She
wasn't sure how much more he'd be able to take tonight.

Her face must have reflected her fear and worry because as they turned
the corner into the conference room, Skinner looked at her first and
froze, then glanced over at Mulder quickly. She saw his eyes narrow
as he assessed his agent's condition and then he was moving towards
them in long steps.

"Agents, it's good to see you. Mulder, it looks like you could use a
seat."

She watched her boss pull a chair out solicitously and gesture Mulder
towards it. Her partner seemed to collapse into it slowly, giving in to
the chance to relax overtaxed muscles. He was breathing heavily now
and the sweat that had lightly coated his forehead for hours was now
running in streams down his face. The effort required to bring him
this far had obviously been too much.

Without even thinking, the back of her hand was on his forehead.
After a second or two, she flipped it over and ran it through his hair,
pushing the wet strands away from his face. He never even moved.
Just sat with eyes closed tightly, shivers running through his body
occasionally, right hand once more gripping his left arm tightly. She
cursed internally, angry that she hadn't realized how serious this was
earlier. Instead, she'd allowed her partner to exhaust himself on a
useless trek through this building.

She sensed movement behind her and turned her head back to see
Skinner standing close, a worried expression on his face. He said
softly, "Is he all right? Should I call an ambulance?"

She turned back to Mulder and saw that he either hadn't heard, hadn't
registered the words, or just didn't care any more what the outcome
would be. He hadn't moved at all. One thing was sure, she definitely
wasn't going to have him trekking through this building again. She
turned back to the AD and nodded quickly, then watched for a
movement as he moved out of the room to make the call.

She was alone with her partner again so she leaned closer, ran her
hand over his head gently and whispered, "Help's on the way,
Mulder. You'll feel better soon. I promise."

She wanted to apologize. Wanted to tell him how sorry she was for
not realizing how much pain he was in and how bad he felt, but she
knew he wouldn't appreciate it. That wasn't how they operated. So
she kept the feelings of guilt to herself and continued to whisper to him
reassuringly.

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

When Mulder opened his eyes outside the Tallahassee Bureau, his first
reaction was to look for the brightly lit emergency room sign. He was
sorely disappointed to see nothing but a brick-faced block building.
He found himself incredibly tempted to tell Scully about his aches and
pains, but then she delivered the news about the AD. Oh well, might
as well get it over with.

The walk to the front door of the building seemed way the hell too
long and he could feel his muscles protesting even before they reached
it. Jesus, at this rate he might not even make it to wherever the AD
was camped out. Scully's hand on his arm was reassuring and
somehow helped to keep him moving. The elevator ride had been a
little bit of heaven because he'd been able to lean against the wall,
allowing his shaking legs a modicum of relief.

But then he was having to walk down the hallway again and all he
could think about was not crying. He couldn't remember feeling this
miserable in a very long time. He was alternately shivering from cold
and then burning up. His head seemed to be encompassing the
timpani section of the philharmonic, with the kettle drum leading the
pace. The shoulder was the worst, though. The damage from
Scully's bullet from a couple years before was nothing compared to
this. In fact, he'd much rather have a bullet wound at this point.
Anything other than the fire and streaks of pain that resided there now,
reaching even further with every hour. It wasn't just localized to the
shoulder anymore. His entire chest was on fire and breathing was
starting to get more difficult. His upper arm felt completely bruised,
both numb and in pain simultaneously. He'd never experienced
anything like it before.

When they entered the conference room, he was vaguely aware of his
boss acknowledging them and then walking towards him. He was,
however, very much relieved when a chair materialized in front of him
and Scully's hand was pulling at him to sit. Just what he needed. He
gave up the fight to actually pay attention to what they were saying and
instead concentrated on not falling out of the chair.

A hand was at his forehead, soothing, reassuring, and he knew Scully
was there next to him. He had to close his eyes even tighter then
because the urge to lean forward into her arms in tears was growing
into a very real and powerful thing. He had to focus every bit of his
energy now to just maintaining control. Just for now. He knew
Scully would take care of him. Knew Skinner was there to make sure
she got whatever she needed.

He had no idea of how much time had passed, but all of a sudden,
someone jarred his shoulder and he heard a strangled scream echo
through the room. Long moments later, he realized it had been him.
The part of his mind that made note of this fact was no longer aware of
pain or hot or cold. He felt disassociated, disconnected from his body.
This part of his mind, of which he was aware, took over and started
leading him away from the activity of the conference room. Away
from the hurt and suddenly bizarre images flitted past his closed lids.

Some part of him was thinking that there was a case out there for him
to solve and if he could just concentrate, he'd be able to find the key.
He started remembering details, recollecting little bits of knowledge
that he'd heard from somewhere. He couldn't even remember where
he'd heard them anymore. But there was this woman who'd claimed
she was impregnated by a monster after she'd had her tubes tied. It
was intriguing. It was interesting. And he needed something to think
about. Something to wrestle his mind around, else the recognition of
his actual state might drive him mad.

He allowed the thoughts to take him away, to lead him off into a black
and white realm of surreal landscapes and people that were much more
engaging than anything he had to look forward to in reality. And he
became a part of the fantastic and bizarre world in his mind. Became
an active participant. Reached for it with relish and threw his entire
being into solving the case of the mysteriously impregnated woman.

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

Skinner was worried. He'd seen his agents hurt before, had seen
Scully sick and dying with cancer, but seeing Mulder ill and weak,
seemingly unaware of his surroundings, threw the AD for a loop. Oh,
there was that time the man had called in sick with the flu. Skinner
tried to remember back and seemed to recall another time or two when
Mulder'd had a cold or something. But the man had never had a
serious illness, and somehow, Skinner found he was more prepared to
deal with gunshots and explosions than he was with illness. And
despite the shoulder wound, it was obvious from his first look at the
younger man that Mulder was ill.

He'd instructed Janice to show the paramedics up, had already called
the hospital to let them know a Federal Agent was on the way, and
now stood in the doorway, alternately looking down the hall towards
the elevator and back into the room to where Scully knelt next to her
partner. He could hear Scully whispering even from the door, but
then heard Mulder mumble something. He glanced down the hall
again and then decided to trust the secretary to bring them in quickly.
He moved into the room to kneel down next to Scully.

She looked frightened and he wanted to reassure her, but another close
look at Mulder made his blood run cold. The man was completely out
of it. His eyes were open but glazed and unfocused. It was obvious
he wasn't seeing what was in front of him. Mulder was staring
straight through him, showing no indication of awareness, and then
his agent mumbled something. And he could swear he heard the name
'Cher' stuck in the middle of a string of unrecognizable words.

He glanced over at Scully, thinking she might have heard more, but
saw that she was just as confused. And then the paramedics were
there, moving quickly into the room and laying out a stretcher and
various pieces of equipment. The taller of the two men turned to him
and Scully and said, "Could you fill us in a bit, please?"

He deferred to Scully and listened as she outlined the series of
encounters of which he himself hadn't totally been previously aware.

"Yesterday afternoon we were tracking a kidnapping suspect in a
heavily wooded and deserted area when our party of four was
attacked. Two of the officers we were with disappeared and Agent
Mulder was attacked by something. Some ... creature. It clawed his
shoulder, leaving marks approximately six to eight inches in length.
Agent Mulder was in shock and was forced to sleep on the cold
ground with no shelter. This morning, as we were preparing to leave,
he ... fell into an underground cave, injuring his shoulder once more.
It was several hours before we were rescued. The paramedics dressed
the wounds at the scene, but Agent Mulder has continued to worsen
and started running a fever several hours ago. I know that he's been
struggling with a significant amount of pain in his shoulder as well as
his head all day and I believe this has also worsened in the last few
hours."

The two paramedics had been nodding continuously throughout her
nearly monotone delivery and now had Mulder hooked up to various
machines and an IV. They moved him onto the stretcher with a well-
practiced lift and shift maneuver, and then the one who hadn't spoken
yet said, "When was he last aware of his surroundings?"

When Scully paused, Skinner jumped in to fill the void, saying,
"Approximately twenty minutes now. He managed to walk in here on
his own, but I think it wiped him out. He sat down and then basically
phased out on us."

Skinner swallowed against the dryness that gripped his throat and then
licked his lips nervously. It appeared they were ready for transport so
he turned to Scully and said, "Why don't you give me your keys and
I'll drive your car to the hospital." When she nodded gratefully, he
held out his hand for the keys and as she dropped them into his hand,
he took the opportunity to grip her fingers for just a moment. He
leaned down and said, "He'll be fine, Scully. You go with him. He'll
feel better knowing you're there. I'll be right behind you."

He watched the two paramedics take his agent away, Scully hovering
as close as possible. He shook his head, partly in anger and partly in
frustration. It seemed these two just couldn't get a break. He moved
quickly then, telling Janice to go home even as he was passing her in
the hallway. "I'll be at the hospital. You can reach me by my cell if
you need me. I'll check in with you tomorrow and let you know
where I'll be."

He was racing down the hallway then and taking the stairs two and
three at a time. So what if the secretary saw him. He was worried
about his agent and wanted to get to the hospital as soon as possible.
Besides, it looked like Scully might need a friend tonight.

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

Scully was used to holding Mulder's hand in these circumstances, but
with the left one injured, and the right somehow still gripping his left
in a deathhold, despite the straps across his chest, she was left with
nothing to do with her hands. She gripped them tightly and rested
them on her lap. She couldn't take her eyes off her partner's face.
His eyes were still open, as they had been ever since the ambulance
was called, but it was clear that whatever he was seeing was not what
she was seeing. His lips moved continuously as he mumbled words
in an unending stream. They weren't spoken frantically or urgently,
but rather with conviction and steadfastness. She couldn't for the life
of her figure out what he was talking about.

At one point, she heard him say something about peanut butter and
decided he must be hungry. After all, neither of them had eaten for
well over thirty hours. She leaned closer and whispered, "Mulder,
you get a little better and I'll make you a huge peanut butter sandwich.
With a little jelly. Or maybe raisons or a banana. How does that
sound?"

He seemed to mumble something about an empty jar and all she could
do was reassure him that there was plenty more peanut butter in the
world. A part of her felt self-conscious talking with her practically
unconscious partner about something like peanut butter sandwiches,
but when she glanced at the paramedic, he merely nodded at her
encouragingly.

She knew the ride couldn't have been more than just a few minutes,
but it still seemed as if it took an eternity. She pushed the back door of
the ambulance open herself even before the attendants could get there
and waited impatiently for them to unload her partner. Then they were
inside and directions were being fired off right and left. She started to
follow the stretcher into the examining room when she was stopped by
an army of nurses, all seemingly intent upon making her fill out
myriad forms that essentially signed her partner's freedom away. She
was rescued some minutes later by her boss, who was standing next to
her suddenly. He stared at the poor woman behind the desk with such
a dour and menacing expression that even Scully was taken aback at
first.

But then he looked down at her and smiled slightly, saying in a kind
voice, "Why don't you track down Mulder, Agent Scully. I'll take
care of this." She'd never liked Skinner more than she did in that
instant. She raised her hand to his arm and whispered 'Thank you"
before turning and slipping into the door where they'd taken Mulder.

She assessed the activity quickly and moved towards the far right
corner. They'd cut his shirt off him and removed the bandage and
even from ten feet away she could tell all was not well with the
shoulder wound. The doctor caught sight of her as he was cleaning
the injury but before he could object she pulled out her identification
and said, "I'm a doctor and I'm Agent Mulder's partner. I'm also
staying." The doctor shut his mouth and ignored her after that, which
was just fine with Scully.

The man turned to the woman to his left and asked, "Temp?"

She replied without hesitation, "104.3".

The man shook his head, as if in disgust and ordered an aggressive
treatment of antibiotics, along with a cooling pad. He said, "In the
meantime, get that fan pointed this way."

Scully was shocked at the pronouncement, having not realized
previously just how sick her partner was. She was again consumed
with guilt and cursed herself for not recognizing that Mulder needed a
hospital sooner. Of course, the paramedics at the scene in the forest
hadn't thought it was warranted. Perhaps it really had gotten so much
worse in just the last couple hours.

She was jolted back to reality when her partner started mumbling
again. The words weren't clear. Were, in fact, jumbled so that
nothing much made any sense. But at one point she could swear he
said something about 'mutant flies' and 'experiments'. It was
unnerving and she could tell that the medical staff was just as thrown
as she was.

The doctor looked at her in confusion then and she sensed that her
approach would not be rejected this time. She moved closer and stood
in a gap between two nurses, close to her partner's head. She brushed
the sweat-soaked bangs off his forehead and rested her hand on his
head, hoping the contact would reassure him. Would somehow get
through to him in whatever dark place he was. She leaned forward a
bit, then, saying, "Mulder, it's me. Everything's fine. We're at
Riverside Hospital and the doctors here are going to make you feel
better. I promise. No experiments. No ..." She glanced over at the
doctor again then decided hell with it. "No mutants and no monsters,
Mulder. Not here and not now. You're safe."

She continued to speak softly even as the doctor and nurses worked,
but wasn't at all sure that anything was getting through to her partner.
They were preparing to move him to a room when he suddenly jerked
his head to the right and said, very clearly, "Frankenstein." It was all
quite mystifying and she could only pray that the world he was lost in
would treat him kindly until he found his way through the darkness
and back to her.

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

He'd seen it, running through the trees in the dark night, outlined just
briefly against the moon behind. Its voice had echoed eerily through
the night, sounding oddly lonely and frightened. He wanted to see
this creature. This two-faced monster who broke into women's
houses, incapacitated them in some way, played songs by Cher, then
left them pregnant.

This farmer who'd offered to show him and Scully the real monster
had left them with Dr. Frankenstein, who proceeded to lecture them
about genetic manipulation of the most vile kind. For once, he was
much more shocked than his partner, whose familiarity with genetic
experimentation and manipulation far outpaced his own.

He'd known, after talking with this man for just minutes, after seeing
his lab and his experiments, that this was the true monster. The man
disgusted him. Made him almost physically ill. He couldn't get out of
the man's presence fast enough.

And now, they were faced with townspeople who seemed more
interested than getting their faces on Jerry Springer than on
discovering whether there was a rapist and kidnapper in their midst.

At least Scully was with him. At least he wasn't alone on this one.
He glanced away from the road to look over at her and smiled. He
was just set to say something to her when a striped tent caught his eye
over to the left. He slammed on the brakes and backed up. This was
the explanation. He just knew it. This was why no one had thought
twice about not seeing their neighbor for a couple days. And Scully
agreed with him. Thank God for Scully.

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

Skinner had gotten an update before entering the room where his
agents were. The doctor and nurses were trying to bring Mulder's
temperature down, concerned with possibilities of lasting damage if it
remained elevated for too long a period. Or even worse, if it rose.
He'd spoken with the doctor who seemed somewhat mystified by the
injury, claiming he'd never seen anything like it before. He claimed
there was a foreign substance growing in the wound and wasn't at all
sure whether it was bacterial or not. He'd sent samples to various
labs, and had appeared relieved almost when Skinner suggested using
the Bureau labs in Tallahassee and Jacksonville as well. Skinner
arranged for samples to be hand-delivered to the local lab as well as to
the airport and had already contacted the necessary technicians and
scientists at the two facilities. Everything was being expedited and
they should know something within a few hours.

He pushed the door open slowly and saw Scully sitting next to her
partner's bed, holding his right hand tightly with her left. Her back
was to him and her head was bent down, appearing as if she were
asleep, but then he saw her raise her right hand to her face and could
only guess she wiped at her eyes.

He took another step into the room and cleared his throat, allowing her
a moment to collect herself. He walked around to the other side of the
bed and looked down at his agent for a moment before turning his gaze
across the bed. He said, "Agent Scully, how are you doing?"

She smiled at him, obviously struggling for calm, before answering.
"I'm fine, sir. Thank you for taking care of the paperwork."

He merely nodded, then looked down at Mulder again. It was eerie.
That was the only word for it. The man's eyes were wide open and at
one time, he could swear Mulder had looked right at him. But it was
obvious his agent was not registering what he was seeing. The
younger man's lips were still moving, even though nothing was really
audible at this point.

Skinner was not a demonstrative man and couldn't remember ever
touching his agent except to wrestle him into submission after the
hallway fiasco and to occasionally shake the man's hand. But Mulder
looked so lost, lying there. So very innocent and helpless. He leaned
forward and placed his right hand very gently on his agent's head, for
just a moment, and said, "Mulder, I don't know if you can hear me. I
hope so. Scully's here and I'm here and we're both kind of worried
about you. I think Scully would like to talk with you. You need to
work at coming back to us. Work hard at it, and come back to us
soon."

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

The smoke was gone when he opened his eyes again but his throat
was practically raw. He looked around for Scully and was filled with
relief to see her awake and struggling to get off the floor, right next to
him. He coughed as he pulled himself up and staggered into the
kitchen behind the scientist and police. He had to solve this case. He
knew that if he could solve it, that somehow things would be better. It
was important that he solve it.

He was dizzy and his head hurt. His eyes stung and watered, making
it difficult to see clearly. Scully looked as miserable as he felt and he
wished he could make it better for her. There was a pan on the stove
and it had the same mark as the one they'd seen before. It felt
awkward in his hand as he lifted it and waved it in the air. He knew
that mark was important for some reason. As he stumbled across the
room, barely able to stand, the trash can revealed its secrets and the
empty peanut butter jar was telling. He was on the right track here, he
knew it. And if he could just find the key, find the little bit of evidence
necessary to crack this case, then he could go home, with Scully, and
everything would get back to normal.

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

A couple of tense hours later, Mulder was no better, but no worse.
Scully leaned back into the chair again and shook her head slightly,
then turned to look towards her boss. "It sounded like ... 'frying
pan'." She didn't know whether to smile or cry. Whatever was going
on in her partner's head somehow involved a jumbled nightmarish
world of two-faced monsters, frying pans, and Cher. God only knew
what he was thinking, but knowing Mulder as she did, she was sure it
all made sense somehow.

Skinner had evidently decided that a smile was the way to go and she
finally joined him with one of her own. Then she said, for no real
reason she could identify, "When we were trapped in that underground
cave, Mulder saw the words 'Ad Noctum' carved into a pillar."

She could tell Skinner was trying to work it out and then he said, "Into
darkness?"

She nodded and replied, "That's right. Mulder said the Spanish
Conquistadors would post those words as a warning. He speculated
that it had been written there close to four hundred years before, and
that those who had posted the warning were attacking us for ignoring
it. They were defending their territory."

She could see her boss considering the words and knew he'd arrived
at the conclusion Mulder had tried to make when he cocked his head,
dropped his chin, and raised his eyebrows. He said only, "The same
men? After four hundred years?"

She smiled again and nodded, then said, "He called them 'Moth
men'." She grew more serious again as she went on. "But I have to
say that I've never seen anything like it, sir. These creatures -- men --
they blended in so completely with their background that you could
only really see them by their glowing red eyes. I don't know what
they were, but I killed one in the cave, maybe even the same one that
had injured Mulder. It was ... bizarre."

Skinner shook his head a bit and said, "I look forward to reading
Mulder's report on it."

She was so grateful to her boss suddenly that she felt her throat tighten
and her eyes water. She swallowed and fought off the tears before
saying roughly, "Thank you, sir."

He seemed to understand what she was saying because he smiled just
slightly, one side of his lip curling upwards minutely. He nodded and
leaned back in the chair, then turned towards her partner. Mulder was
still mumbling away, despite the numerous drugs coursing through his
system, and some of the words could be made out again. Both she
and her boss leaned forward, almost as one, to try to catch what
Mulder was saying.

Skinner looked over to her and said, "I swear he said 'Mask' and
'Cher' and something about a 'son'."

She nodded in agreement and replied, "That's what it sounded like to
me, too. And maybe 'dead'. I don't know. I'm not sure." She
shook her head in frustration and stood up, felt her partner's forehead
again and cursed internally. He wasn't cooling down at all. She was
tempted to check the wound, but knew the doctor would be in again
soon. She squeezed his right hand in her own and leaned close to his
ear, whispering, "Keep fighting to come back to us, Mulder. We're
here. I'm here and I'd love to hear all about where you've been."

And then the oddest thing happened. He blinked and she could swear
he was actually looking at her instead of through her when he said,
"Scully, you're in color." Then he blinked again, his eyes unfocused
once more and the unrecognizable mumbling continued. She'd been
stunned momentarily. Completely caught off guard. But now she
turned to her boss, hoping that maybe he'd have an idea of what that
was all about.

He had taken a stance just across from her when Mulder spoke and
now stared at her, hesitation clear. But finally he said, "Maybe he's
dreaming in black and white?"

She thought about it and decided it made a strange kind of sense.
Looked back down at her partner and thought to herself it was a
damned good thing he didn't share his nightmares with her on a
regular basis. She wasn't at all sure she could keep up or keep sane.

He seemed to grow more restless then, head tossing slightly from side
to side. She was ready to ring for a nurse when the doctor came in.
He took in Mulder's irritation and moved quickly to her side. He
checked temperature and vitals and turned to her with a concerned
expression.

"Temperature's up. We'll have to ice him soon if we can't get a
handle on this. It's getting dangerously high." He turned to her boss
then and said, "It would sure help if we knew what that substance
was. Any chance of getting a report in soon? Our labs are still
working on it here."

Skinner said, "I'll check," and pulled his phone out, even as he was
heading for the hallway. She followed his progress out the door and
then looked down at Mulder again. He'd closed his eyes finally and
she wasn't sure if this was a good sign or bad. She was filled with
terror at the thought that he was giving in to this dream world. That he
wasn't trying to get back to them. To her.

She leaned in close again, right by his ear, and whispered, "You're
kind of scaring me here, partner. You're supposed to be getting better
now, not worse. You have to fight this. You have to come back to
me. I need my best friend beside me, Mulder. Please fight this."

She was almost shocked when he opened his eyes again and turned his
head just slightly in her direction. He mumbled again, but she heard
the word 'fire' clearly. He was somehow faced with fire in his dream
and she couldn't help thinking the fire that raged through his body was
responsible for fueling his imagination.

She watched as the doctor inspected Mulder's shoulder wound. She
rested her hand on his head and said, "There's no fire, Mulder.
You're safe. I promise. No fire will get you. I'm here and I'll make
sure."

He seemed to settle down then, no longer as restless as he'd been, but
it was clear that this was not necessarily a good thing. She sat back in
the chair and gripped his right hand tightly. Then bent her head to the
bed, resting it wearily next to his arm, and prayed for his safe keeping.

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

Skinner shut the cell phone with a sharp snap and strode quickly to the
counter down the hall. He identified the nurse he'd spoken with
earlier and gestured to her, saying, "A fax will be coming in any time.
It's the report on the substance found in Agent Mulder's wound."

The woman nodded in understanding and moved across the cubicle to
check the status of the machine. It was coming in already and he could
barely stand the wait. He knew that those pages held the key to
making his agent well again. When the transmission ended, the nurse
handed him the sheets and he headed to Mulder's room immediately.

He glanced at the papers in his hand but could make no sense of the
long words. He only prayed that Scully and the doctor would be able
to. He opened the door and entered quickly, then handed the pages to
the doctor without a word. The man scanned the first page and passed
it across to Scully, then did the same with the second and third pages.
Skinner watched their expressions grow confused, concerned, and
then finally intently determined. He hoped it meant there was hope.
Scully's words confirmed it.

"So it's just a matter of attacking it with the right antibiotics. We've
been completely off the mark with the types we've been giving him."

The doctor nodded and left the room without a word. He turned to his
agent then and said merely, "Scully?"

She looked excited and it spread to him like a palpable thing. She
said, "We thought it was something like a staph infection but we were
completely wrong. The antibiotics we've been giving him haven't
been able to attack the bacteria. Once we pump the right one into his
system, we should see a quick turnaround."

He was relieved to see her smile and watched as she leaned close to
her partner again and whispered to the man. He caught the words,
"You'll feel better soon ... promise," but missed the rest of what she
said.

Then the doctor was back with two nurses trailing along and he and
Scully both backed up and watched them work. When the team left,
looking somewhat relieved, he and Scully both moved closer once
again. He sat down when she did, confident now that they'd see
improvement soon.

He was a bit surprised to hear Scully speak out loud and then realized
she was speaking to him.

"You know, sir, I was originally supposed to debunk Mulder's work.
That's why they assigned me to him. I always figured the X-Files
was assigned to you once they figured out that I wouldn't lie to serve
their agenda. I assumed you were intended to keep up both in line."

He looked at her with interest, wondering where she was headed with
the thought.

"I never really knew whether I could trust you or not. Not until
recently. But Mulder did. From the very beginning, he trusted you. I
always thought that was strange because Mulder never trusted anyone
or anything. Except me, eventually. But he does trust you."

Skinner felt honored for some reason. Honored that Scully was telling
him these things and honored that his problematic agent trusted him so
completely. He swallowed and considered saying something in
response, but then decided it wasn't really necessary. He nodded and
gave her the first heartfelt smile he'd felt in a long time, then turned
back to the man lying so still now on the bed.

And he realized, as he stood looking down as the man, that he trusted
Mulder, too. Trusted his judgment and his abilities. Above any of the
other agents under his command, these two were the most competent
and capable. And he liked them both. A lot. Cared about what
happened to them.

He thought back to the past year and couldn't help the sigh that
escaped. They'd had a hellish year. Even more so than unusual.
Maybe he could do something to make life easier for them. Give them
both a boost. Maybe get them to go on vacation or something. He'd
have to think about it. He saw that Scully was settling into her chair
again, so he moved to sit as well. Before he did, though, he rested his
hand on Mulder's head once more, and leaned down to whisper,
"Hurry back, Mulder. I think I want to hear where you've been, too."

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

Mulder knew this wasn't right. Frankenstein was supposed to be
punished, not the monster. The monster was supposed to go free, to
seek his true love. Everyone deserved a true love. He knew this.
Was absolutely sure about it. "Where's the writer? I want to speak to
the writer." Mulder demanded.

He could tell that Scully was saddened but resigned to what she
perceived the monster's fate, but he wasn't prepared to give up so
easily. He would demand a different ending. He knew he had that
power. He had that control. He could make it happen if he wanted it
badly enough.

And he did. They were in the car, the wheel gripped loosely in his
hands. Scully was next to him and he could feel that she was pleased
at what they were doing. The music surrounded them, emanated from
the speakers to wash through them, even as the surreal caravan
traveled to fulfill the monster's desire. It was right that they should do
this and he was happy that Scully had agreed with him.

They were there finally, sitting front and center, the townspeople all
around. He felt so happy, so content. More so then he'd felt in a very
long time. And the music swelled around him, as Cher came onto the
stage, singing 'Walking in Memphis'. And she was kind to the
monster. So kind and generous that she took him up on the stage with
her. Mulder could feel the smile on his face and knew, suddenly
knew, what he had to do. He'd never get another chance like this and
if the past year had taught them anything, it was that you couldn't let
opportunities slip through your fingers.

He stepped in front of her and turned sideways, extending his hand
down towards her suggestively. He saw her pause in surprise initially
and a little part of him was frightened that he'd made a mistake. But
she reached out then and put her hand in his, and he knew it was right.
Knew that her hand belonged there, in his. He pulled her up and
wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. She was smiling at
him, brightly, happily, and he knew they would be all right.

They danced to the music, smiles large, and he was so filled with
happiness that he started thinking this couldn't be real. Surely he
didn't deserve such peace. Such contentment. Was it really possible
that this could be his life?

And a little niggling doubt started to take over, to grow within him,
even as he fought to continue the dance, to hold Scully close to him,
warm and protected in his embrace. But it started to fade away, began
to disintegrate even as he struggled then to maintain the dream as his
reality. And he cried out 'No' as it faded finally from view.

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

After an hour of almost no movement whatsoever, the sudden
restlessness from her partner was disconcerting. He started tossing
and turning, causing both her and her boss to stand and move to his
bedside. The fever hadn't broken yet, but she was confident that a
breakthrough would come at any time. She spoke to Mulder
reassuringly, making random comments about nothing, but quieted
abruptly when he yelled out 'No' with such heartfelt despair that she
was tempted to hug him.

Instead she squeezed his right hand again, ran her left over his
forehead and through the damp hair, over and over, and said,
"Mulder, it's Scully. Everything's okay. Can you hear me? Come on
and wake up. Open your eyes and look at me."

And to her utter surprise and amazement, he did. He looked right at
her, eyes staring straight at her face, and said in a rough voice, "But I
didn't want to stop. Why did we have to stop?"

She glanced across to her boss who merely shook his head, not
understanding any better than she did. She looked back into her
partner's eyes then, and knew that this was critically important. She
was almost afraid to ask, but knew that she had to, whether Skinner
was there or not. "Stop what, Mulder? What did we stop?"

"We were happy. Cher was singing 'Walking in Memphis' and we
were really happy, Scully."

She felt the tears in her eyes then, and knew that neither of them had
been really happy in a very long time. Her partner must have found a
place for both of them in his dream where they had been. And then
he'd been brutally pulled away from the reality he'd created.

"We were happy, Mulder? What were we doing when Cher was
singing?"

Her partner was obviously tiring, could barely keep his eyes open.
But he whispered, "We were dancing. You're a wonderful dancer,
Scully. But I didn't want to stop."

She didn't care that her boss was standing four feet away. She leaned
down and kissed Mulder on the forehead and said, "I'll dance with
you again, Mulder. Just as soon as you're better you can claim that
dance. I promise."

Her partner smiled at her words and drifted off then, but for the first
time, she was sure he was just sleeping, and the smile lingered even as
he slept.

She looked across to Skinner, embarrassed now at her actions, but he
looked ... satisfied. He smiled at her and said, "Now that's the kind
of dream I'd like to have. Scully, it looks like the worst is over. I
need to check in at the office for a bit and then I'll come back and pick
you up. I've already made arrangements for a hotel. It's not far from
here, so you'll be able to get a few hours sleep, have something to eat,
and then get back here in the morning well rested before Mulder even
wakes up."

She opened her mouth, prepared to protest, but then closed it abruptly.
The man looked determined. And she was exhausted and she was
starving and she could use a shower. So she nodded to him, a wry
grin tugging at her mouth. "All right, sir. You win. Could you stay
with Mulder for just a minute while I go speak with the doctor. I want
to let him know that Mulder was aware for a bit."

She waited for Skinner's nod before leaving. On the way out the
door, she thought to herself that it was a good thing they both trusted
Skinner so much, because the man could definitely use that little
interaction against them both. Thank God the man was above such
pettiness.

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

A week had passed and if he hadn't been there himself, he would have
doubted that his agent could have been so seriously ill. Today was
Mulder's first official day back to work and he'd convinced the guards
and secretaries to help him out with his little welcome-back present.
Skinner glanced down at his watch and prayed that Scully wouldn't
disappoint him. For this to work, his guess that she'd be picking
Mulder up had to pay off. If they came in separately, he just wouldn't
be able to coordinate it all.

He practically skipped down the stairs, feeling inordinately pleased
with himself. This would be fun. His cell phone rang and he
answered, "Skinner," even as he arrived at the basement level. The
guard in the parking garage reported, "Targets entering." There was a
pause of some forty or fifty seconds and then the man said, "Targets
parking".

He responded, "Thanks," and disconnected. So far so good. He
pulled out the key and opened the X-Files office, moving quickly to
close and lock the door behind him. Besides a few support staff, no
one else knew what he was up to this morning and he wanted to keep
it that way. He moved around the room, making sure everything was
in place, and then decided all was in order.

His phone rang again and he answered it. This time it was the
secretary outside the elevator bank by the car garage. She said,
"Targets in elevator."

Shit, he was moving too slowly. He took the envelope out of his
pocket, grabbed a piece of tape, opened the X-Files office door and
stuck it to the front. He closed the door quickly and heard the ding
announcing the arrival at the other end of the hall. He had just enough
time to make it around the corner before he heard their voices. He
could hear them talking and then Scully laughed at something. Then,
to his surprise, Mulder did too. He hadn't been sure the man even
knew how to laugh. Well, good. They both might need a sense of
humor to appreciate his little welcome back present. Or maybe not.

He heard their voices again, more serious this time, and he knew that
they'd seen the note he'd left on the door. It was clearly marked
'Agent Scully', and he could imagine his agent opening it slowly,
afraid of what might be inside. He'd decided to keep it simple, so
he'd written merely, 'A promise is a promise. Skinner.'

He heard a soft 'humph' followed by Mulder's "What?" He could
almost sense the wheels spinning through her head, and was pretty
sure he heard her say, "Hang on. Let's go inside." He heard the door
open, then close. Waited another few seconds, then peeked around
the corner. At the other end of the hall, he could see one of the
secretaries, Lorraine, also looking out from behind a wall.

He took a few steps. Waited. Then took a few more until he was only
a couple feet away from the closed X-Files office door. He glanced at
his watch, wondering what the heck was taking so long, and then he
heard it. 'Walking in Memphis' could be clearly made out, the first
strands wafting under the door. He smiled and rubbed his hands,
quite pleased with himself, and headed down the hallway to the
elevator. Lorraine raised her right hand up in the air just before he got
to her and with a smile, he reached up with his own hand and gave her
a high five. Mission accomplished. Job well done. Damn, he was
good.

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

The End
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