The Barbecue Series 20: ATM By Susan Proto (STPteach@aol.com) Disclaimers in Part 1 Part 3/3 I must have fallen back to sleep for a little while, because I hear Scully's voice again. Only this time she sounds annoyed with someone other than her older brother. "I've told you, he hasn't even woken up from the anesthesia yet. Please, you got my statement already, so why can't you just come back tomorrow?" "Ma'am, the sooner we get to speak with your husband, the more clear he'll be with the details. Please, let us try to get his statement so we can catch whoever did this to him," replies an authoritative female voice. "I don't want to wake him." She didn't even flinch at the officer's use of the word 'husband.' Oh, we are getting way too comfortable here, aren't we? I smile at the thought of us growing old together and becoming comfortable. I like that idea very much. I think, however, Scully is weakening; she understands the importance of getting a victim's statement as soon after the incident lends itself to more complete details. I've got to put her out of her misery. "'S'okay, I'm up," I say, though it feels as if someone's stuffed a sheet of sandpaper down my throat. "Mulder," she says as she takes hold of my hand. There is nothing more comforting than feeling this woman's hand in my own. "I'll give my statement, but first, water. Please." The next thing I know a cup of water is placed in front of my face with a straw in it. Mom holds the glass for me while I sip. The water soothes my throat, though I suspect it will be a momentary respite. I turn my head to look over at the two police officers. The woman stands still, biding her time, while her younger male partner seems to be ready to bounce off the walls as he impatiently shifts from one foot to the other. "Okay," I say. "Thank you, Mr. Mulder," says the female officer, "I'm Officer Cole and this is my partner Officer Logan. I know this is a difficult time for you, but the sooner we get the facts of the incident, the sooner we can start looking for the culprit." I nod and try to shift a little to a more comfortable position. Big mistake. "Ohhh," I groan and within an instant I hear Scully trying to call off the interview. "No," I interject, but I don't know if Scully thinks I'm responding to her desire to end the interview or to the excruciating pain I've just caused myself to experience. Damn, this hurts like hell, but I want to get this over with. I want the entire DCPD out in force finding the little thugs that did this to me. "Scully, I'm okay," I say while gritting my teeth. Okay, so I'm not really okay, but it gets her attention at least. "Mulder, you're not okay. This can wait till tomorrow." "No, it can't. They're right; by tomorrow, I may forget stuff." I do a stupid thing; I try to shift again. I no longer wonder why cartoonists draw little stars over the heads of their characters after they've fallen off the proverbial cliff. There were a multitude of stars floating around my head, let me tell you. "At least let me call the doctor to get your pain medication upped." "No, not yet." I know Scully is looking at me like I have three heads. If there's one thing the woman knows about me it's I don't like being in pain. I don't think there's ever been a time when I refused the good stuff, but there's a reason. "I'll be in la la land if they dope me up. Let me give the statement and then they can pump me up with as much pain killer as legally allowed by law, okay?" Scully understands this and nods. I see her give the officers her full throttle Scully glare and hear her say, "Keep it short." I smile. It's nice having this woman looking out for my best interests all the time. It's even nicer knowing I'm going to be marrying her sometime in the future. "Do you need us to leave?" asks Mom as she indicates Bill and Skinner. "No, you can stay, if Mr. Mulder doesn't have any objections," replies Officer Cole. "_Agent_ Mulder," corrects the AD. "Excuse me?" asks Officer Logan. "This is Special Agent Fox Mulder, and he works for the FBI." "And you are?" asks Logan. "Assistant Director Walter Skinner." "Oh, and were you at the scene of the attack, Mr. Skinner?" asks Logan. "No, no I wasn't." "I see." Officer Logan looks a bit exasperated and turn directly to me. "So, Mr. Mulder, why don't __." When I hear Skinner take in a deep breath, I freeze for a moment. It's one thing for the locals to try and put me in my place; after all, I'm this fancy shmancy FBI agent who lets these small time hoodlums get the best of me. But you do not insult an Assistant Director by totally ignoring information he's just given you. I swear, I want to tell the young Officer Logan to duck. So, imagine my surprise when an unexpected hero comes to both of our rescue. "The Assistant Director just informed you the patient's name is _Agent_ Mulder. Isn't that correct, Agent Scully?" Bill looks over at his sister for confirmation, and I would guess a little approval as well, and she gives it to him in the form of a nod and small smile. "I don't think it's necessary to insult either one of these gentlemen again, do you Officer Logan?" asks Bill in the most moderate, even voice I've ever heard come out of his mouth. "No, Sir, it certainly is not," replies Officer Cole. "Please accept our apology, gentlemen, as I'm sure no insult was intended. Isn't that correct, Logan?" I know that tone of voice. I also know if Logan values his young life, he's going to nod his head in the affirmative and keep his mouth shut for the rest of this interview. Logan nods his head, and his mouth remains clamped. He's not nearly as dumb as I thought he was. "Agent Mulder, would you try to tell us exactly what happened, starting with what led directly up to the incident? I nod and begin my tale of woe. Officer Cole asks specific, clarifying questions throughout my statement, while I have to stop periodically to ask Mom for another sip of water and to give Scully's hand a break from the ironclad grasp I have on it. Every now and then, as I tell what happened, I feel my hands tremble a little. It may be from the pain, but I'm pretty sure it's more from the trauma of the attack. I guess I'm more shook up than I thought I was. Shit, guess nothing; the damn thing scared the hell out of me. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "So, you didn't see their faces at all?" asks an incredulous Officer Logan. I've just spent the last forty minutes giving a statement, and the man thinks I'm withholding information? Damn! Now I'm not only in pain, I'm pissed off. So much so, that as I inform Officer Blockhead, "That's a really stupid question, Logan," I try to shift my position yet again, but this time, it's too much. "Oh God, please," I moan aloud. "That's it. This is interview is over," declares Scully with a firmness that I have come to admire and fear. At the moment, however, I'm just relieved. I can't do this anymore right now. "I'm sorry, Agent Mulder,'' says Officer Cole. I try to smile at her; she's a class person and a good cop. But all that comes out is another grimace of pain. I'm really, really hurting here now. "Scully?" She doesn't need to hear anything else. She just knows and I see her reach for the call button. In an instant, a nurse appears. "The officers were just leaving, MaryAnn, and Agent Mulder could really use a dose of his pain meds. Now." "Yes, Dr. Scully. I'll page Dr. Taylor immediately." She escorts the officers out and I try to find a comfortable position. I'm not being very successful at it. "Mulder, you did a good job," says AD Skinner. I must do a double-take, because I don't have a clue as to what the hell he's talking about. "The statement. You gave a very good, clear, concise statement. You gave those two a lot to go on," he explains. "But he couldn't identify their faces," Bill blurts out. I can tell he blurted it without thinking because he looks like he wished he hadn't said a word. Of course, that could also be because of the dagger stares both of the Scully women are throwing him at this very moment. Poor Bill. Sometimes I really do feel sorry for him. Between Maggie and Dana Scully, not to mention what he must have had to put up with when Melissa was alive, the poor guy never stood a chance. "No, he wasn't able to give a facial description," the AD agrees calmly, ''but he was able to give the officers details about their jewelry, clothing, height, and accents to name just a few. They have enough to go on to proceed with their investigation." Bill nods and looks at me with almost an air of respect. Then he says something that really tears me up. "My God, it could have been any of us then. It could have been Dana that went into that ATM room." I guess I have no secrets what with me being hooked up to all of the machines in the ICU. My heart rate must have started racing because I was definitely triggering every bell and whistle in there. The doctor arrives pretty quickly, and I feel almost immediate relief as I watch him shoot something directly into the IV. "A little Valium does wonders, doesn't it Mr. Mulder?" asks the doctor. I manage a relieved smile, but I still can't find a comfortable position and apparently my expression is a dead give away. "Still in a lot of pain though, right?" he asks with understanding. I manage a confirming nod and he points to the button on the side of the bed. "A little push of the button, Mr. Mulder, and relief will be on its way. Fentanyl is a wonderful drug when used judiciously; the machine won't allow you to overmedicate yourself, but it will spare you unneeded discomfort." I push and wait; moments later I feel a sense of relief. Now, what is all the fuss about? I must have a slightly dazed look on my face, as Scully is trying to get everyone out so I can get some rest. I really am a bit confused for the moment; I know there's a reason why the doc came rushing in with the drugs. I look around the room to see if anyone will give me a hint, and then my eyes fall on Bill. Oh. Of course. Now, what was it that he said before? Something about how it could have been his sister laying here instead of me? Oh yeah, way to go, Bro, make me feel even shittier than I'm already feeling. "Mulder," Bill begins. "Bill, you say one more thing to upset him and I swear I will pull my gun out and shoot you." Guess who said that? "And I'll hold you in place." Whoa. Guess who said that? My Scully women stick together. "No, you don't understand," he hesitates. "What's to understand?" I ask aloud in a slightly slurred tongue. I do love Valium and Fentanyl. Makes even Bill palatable. "If Scully had gone into the bank instead of me, she'd be here and my face would probably be connecting with your fist." I think I giggle at this point. Oh yeah, Valium and Fentanyl makes one helluva potent potable. "Okay, that's it. Time for Mulder to get his beauty rest." "Wait! Please," Bill says a little emotionally. Hey, c'mon future brother in law, chill. Have some Valium. "Listen to me," he demands a little more forcefully. Okay, he's got my attention; apparently everyone else's too. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry, Mulder. I made an assumption that was not fair for me to make." Bill pauses a moment and looks directly at me, only at me. I think he's trying to figure out if I'm still awake. I am. Barely. "I thought Mulder was somehow responsible for the attack. I figured he was impulsive and didn't think and got hurt because, well, because that's what he does so well." I chuckle out loud at this. What can I say? I've actually seen my hospital file. "Mulder, what I'm trying to say is, I'm sorry for doubting you on this. It dawned on me that this could have happened not only to my sister but to any one of us. You couldn't control this situation any more than Dana could have or the AD or me." I sigh at this point. I think I got a rare Bill Scully admission of error. I've been the recipient of one or two of these in the past, but they are a rarity, that's for sure. I receive it with the intent it was given. "Apology accepted," I say groggily. "Okay, now can we let the man get some much needed sleep?" pleads Scully. I guess they all agree, as my eyes close, and I drift off into a much-needed slumber. Maybe I'll make it to the next barbecue in one piece. Maybe. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ End of Part 3/3 Later, Susan See my stories, courtesy of the extraordinary Web Mistress, Shirley Smiley at: http://susanproto.freeservers.com/ "Paper is more patient than people."- Anne Frank