Death Will Be Our Darling, part 29 (39/39) Deborah Goldstein Disclaimed in parts 01, 10, and 20 Room 812 3:31 p.m., July 1 "Scully? You accepting visitors?" The voice was Mulder's. She turned off the radio and tried one- handedly to neaten the covers around her. She wished she could wear her own pajamas instead of the shapeless hospital gowns, but there was no way with an IV in one hand and the various pieces of external hardware holding her other shoulder in place. "Yes, Mulder, come on in." He looked good; definitely better than the last time she'd seen him. There was probably some significance to the fact that he hadn't brought her anything, but it wasn't worth spending the energy on. He sat down, then got up and pulled the chair around till he was at the exact angle that made it easiest to look at him while she was mostly lying down. She smiled. "Lots of experience on the other side, right?" A broad grin passed quickly over his face. "Yeah. You get sick of asking people to move after a while; you just take it for granted you're either going to have a sore neck or you're going to only see them out of the corner of one eye." He shifted uncomfortably before speaking again. "Margaret told me what your doctor said about how long it would take. I'm sorry, Scully." She started to shake her head, then gasped as that movement was enough to jar her shoulder. It was a while before she could relax, even after the extra Demerol had taken effect. If this was even half of what Mulder had gone through last year, she counted it a major miracle that he hadn't turned out a narcotic addict. He was holding her hand, and she doubted she'd ever seen him looking quite that scared. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and said, "I'm OK. It just takes me a bit to recover. I don't have anywhere near your practice, y'know?" When he tried to smile in return, she continued, "When did you get discharged? I haven't been paying too much attention to things until today." "I know; I stopped in yesterday between tests. Dr. Carrington sprung me just now." He shrugged, looking embarrassed. "I didn't want to bring you something tacky from the hospital gift shop." Then he looked much happier. "Frohike's going to come get me and take me over to the DMV so I can get my driver's license again." She gave him her best smile. "That's wonderful. So what did Isabelle say about your one-year check up?" He shrugged. "Everything's normal. But we knew that back in December. Kennedy's got me scheduled twice a week for the next month, to make sure I'm coping all right with everything." She wasn't sure she was hearing him correctly. "Dr. Kennedy? How did he get involved? What's to cope with?" His thumb, which had been making gentle circles on the back of her hand, stopped. His face went blank for an instant before he shook his head like he was clearing out the cobwebs. "Right. You don't know. Friday, after the dinner that wasn't worth eating because it was so tasteless, Dr. Carrington came to see me. She told me she was keeping me to do all the tests. Then, right on the heels of that statement, came a nurse with a couple of cans of Ensure. I kind of lost it. Things went downhill from there and they had to sedate me. When I woke up the next morning, I was restrained and they'd put an NG tube down, and Kennedy was there. I just fell apart, Scully. Everything kind of hit all at once. Everything I'd gone through, the things I'd put you and your mom through, the things I hadn't been able to do, and the fact that I was never going to have my old life back again. I cried all day. "Margaret was there when I finally stopped crying. She was there because they couldn't get a hold of you or Skinner. After I convinced her I was OK and she left, I took off looking for the building because I knew that the raid had to be in progress. "I was there when Skinner killed Baseball Bat Man, Scully. I saw your shoulder. I knew immediately that it was bad. I must have gone into shock, because I don't remember who brought me outside, or even coming back here. The next thing I remember, it was daylight and I was obviously tranquilized. Kennedy told me Dr. Yamaguchi hadn't wanted me back; he wanted me on the psych ward, for when I realized what had happened to you. But Margaret refused, and Kennedy and Dr. Carrington backed her up. They all knew that my crisis had already passed. And they were right." He shrugged. "Yamaguchi apparently dropped out after that; he turned me over to Dr. Carrington. I haven't had any medicine of any kind since Saturday, and I'm doing OK. That's why Kennedy let me have my license now. "I know I'm never going to be a Field Agent again, Scully. I talked with Skinner on Monday, and he's going to see whether the Bureau will keep me as a full-time instructor. If not, I'll take disability retirement, find something else to do, and be a guest lecturer." It was almost too much to handle at once. Here she'd thought Mulder would crash when Skinner told him he couldn't be a Field Agent ever again, and he'd already figured that out and adjusted to it, apparently in *one* day. With nothing more than tears. Sure, there might be minor crises later on, when he ran into things that reminded him of "the old days", but all in all, he was coping much better than she would have believed possible. She reached up to touch her shoulder. "Dr. Hagopian says that eventually I should regain about 70% mobility. Most of what'll be missing will be the overhead ranges. I should also have near- normal strength in the ranges I do get back. There's no apparent nerve damage either, so I'll be able to continue as a Pathologist. "Dr. Theo came by this morning with get well cards. I can't believe it--he offered me the job as his Assistant. Renata wants to go back to her old position. After all her years of waiting to get the Assistant Chief Pathologist position, she's decided that the hassles and the hours are more than she wants to cope with, with three teenagers. She looked at him with tears in her eyes. "Mulder, it's as if God had it all arranged for us. Take something away, but give us something else that in the long run will last longer and let us be around to enjoy it." Mulder said, "I hope _we_ can enjoy it for a long time, Scully. I'm ready to go on living, no matter who arranged it. So long as you're there, too." Then he took the hand he was holding and brought it to his lips for a kiss. After she got past the shock of that gesture, and the unmistakeable warmth in his eyes, she was thrilled. Scully gave him the biggest smile she could manage. With all the nightmares over, things were definitely looking up. The End of "Death Will Be Our Darling", by Deborah Goldstein. Please send comments to Debbie Goldstein at dkg@teleport.com Afterward: Artistic license is allowed. Just how far a writer can take that license is open to debate. I chose to take my license and run with it. In the real world, Mulder would have been transferred to St. Elizabeth's Hospital after his second suicide attempt. The criterion for being admitted to a state mental hospital is that a person is "a danger to himself or others". Mulder met that criterion in spades. No regular psych hospital would likely want to keep someone as dangerous as Mulder, except possibly a place like "Henry's Place". However, St. Elizabeth's Admissions Office told me that the patients are treated by the staff psychiatrists, _not_ their own. I needed Dr. Kennedy to keep treating Mulder, so he had to stay at GUMC. Also, the chains I have him wearing are not normally used except to transfer patients who are still dangerous, even on medication, to, for example, the medical building on the state hospital campus, or for a patient who is a convicted criminal while he/she is off ward for any reason. The chains could be extremely dangerous to the patient if she/he started to fight them, as Mulder fought the leather restraints when the anti-depressant kicked in. For those who are interested, here are the complete lyrics to "The Bold Marauder", which is copyright by Richard(?) Farina: And it's hi-ho-hey, I am the bold marauder. It's hi-ho-hey, I am the white destroyer. For I will show you silver and gold, And I will show you treasure. And I will show you thunder and steel, And I will be your teacher. And I will show you grotto and cave, And sacrificial altar. And I will show you blood on the stone And I will be your mentor. And Night will be our darling. And Fear will be our name. And it's hi-ho-hey, I am the bold marauder. It's hi-ho-hey, I am the white destroyer. For I will take you out by the hand, And lead you to the hunter. And I will take a Fury to wife, And I will be your Father. And we will go to ravage and kill, And we will go to plunder. And we will wave the widowing flag, And I will be your Mother. And Christ will be our darling. And Fear will be our name. And it's hi-ho-hey, I am the bold marauder. It's hi-ho-hey, I am the white destroyer. For we will sour the winds on high, And we will soil the rivers. And we will burn the grain in the field, And I will be your Lover. And we will dress in helmet and shield, And dip our tongues in slaughter. And we will sing the Warrior's Song, And lift the praise of murder. And Death will be our darling. And Fear will be our name. And it's hi-ho-hey, I am the bold marauder. It's hi-ho-hey, I am the white destroyer. The complete end of "Death Will Be Our Darling"