Frightening Possibilities by Frances Hayman
E-mail:  FrankieH@aol.com
Finished: 4/9/98 (Yeah, I know it took me a while to send it.  Major
computer problems are the culprit!)
Classification:  Story, Angst
Rating: G
Spoilers:  The Red and the Black, End Game
Summary:  Post "The Red and the Black" story.  After their release by
the MPs Mulder gets sick, which makes Scully wonder if something
happened in the truck to cause it.  Especially when he has a nightmare
about the Bounty Hunter.
Disclaimers:  Mulder, Scully, the Bounty Hunter, and the X-Files belong
 to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen, and Fox.  No copyright infringement
intended.
Distribution:  OK to archive.  I'll send it to Gossamer and Mulder Torture.
If anyone else wants it, just let me know.
Author's Notes:  This story was inspired by the end of Macspooky's story,
"Frightening Changes".   It isn't necessary to read it first, but I highly
recommend it.

Frightening Possibilities  by Frances Hayman

Mulder took a deep breath and tried to open his eyes.  They were dry
and gritty feeling, and so was his throat.  As he struggled  to come to
full consciousness, he tried to remember where he was.  When his
eyelids finally obeyed and  opened, he saw that he was in a motel
room.

Then he remembered.  The truck, the MPs.  When the MPs released them,
Scully had pushed him into the car and had found the closest motel so
they could both get some rest.  Of course, there was only one room, but
they had been so exhausted that protocol wasn't a primary concern.  Scully
had told him he had a fever, shoved some aspirin at him and they had both
pretty much passed out on the hard motel beds.   He had vague memories
of a nightmare about the Bounty Hunter, but it was getting more vague by
the second.  He turned  his head as he heard the shower running in the
bathroom.  Scully must be in the shower.  He lay there and tried to summon
the will to move but closed his eyes instead.

"Mulder."  It was Scully's voice.  "Mulder, wake up."  Now he felt her cool
hand on his head.  He turned toward the cool comfort and opened his eyes.
It was a little easier this time.   He looked at her.  "Hey, sleepyhead.  We
need to get on the road soon."  He just blinked sleepily at her.  She frowned.
"How do you feel?"

He swallowed, trying to get some moisture in his throat, and croaked, "Still
tired."  He rolled his shoulders in an attempt relieve the aching he felt.
Scully didn't miss it.

"Achy too?"  He nodded.  "Where?"

He sighed. "Everywhere."  He sat up and was immediately dizzy.  Scully
reached out a hand to steady him.

"Easy, Mulder.  You're still running a fever."  She went to the bathroom and
returned with a glass of water.  "Here, drink some water."  She sat beside
him as he downed the water, then he rubbed his hand across his face.  She
rubbed his back for a moment.  "Think you can stand?"  He nodded.  "Why
don't you take a shower, and I'll go get us some breakfast, and you some
more aspirin.  What I gave you last night was all I had with me."  She made
sure he was up and moving before she left, hoping she wouldn't come back
to find him unconscious in the bathroom because he'd passed out and/or hit
his head.

Mulder moved slowly in the small bathroom, stripping off his sweaty rumpled
clothes.  No wonder Scully wanted him to take a shower.  He stepped under
the warm water and let it beat over his back and chest, trying to work out
some of the dull pain.  It was actually helping a little, but he finally decided
he better get out before he collapsed in the shower or Scully got back,
whichever came first, and it was feeling like collapse would win out.  Geez,
what was so tiring about taking a shower, he wondered.  He toweled off,
managed to get back into his boxers, T-shirt, and pants  before stumbling
back to the bed to lay down.  Just for a minute, he thought, just till
Scully gets back. He was asleep in seconds.

Scully opened the motel room door quietly.  She didn't hear the shower,
but soon saw a damp Mulder asleep on the bed.  She brought the bags
in and set them on the small table.  She had gotten juice for him, coffee
for her, a couple of donuts -- real nutritious there, Dana -- as well as
some aspirin and a thermometer.  The persistent fever had her worried.
It could just be exhaustion, or the flu.  But he didn't remember what had
happened to him in that truck, and during the night she had heard him
mumbling something about the Bounty Hunter.  Could he have been on
that truck too?  The MPs had taken Mulder's gun away, but Scully saw
when the clip was ejected that a round had been fired.  Did he shoot at
the Bounty Hunter?  Did he hit him?  Could this be a manifestation of the
retrovirus?  If it was, it certainly wasn't behaving like it had before.  She
shook her head.  First things, first.  Find out just how high his temp was
now.  She wished again for an aural thermometer, but it was back in her
apartment, with the rest of her Mulder First Aid Kit, and wasn't doing her
much good at the moment.  She sat next to him on the bed and laid her
hand across his forehead, frowning.

"Mulder," she said quietly.  He sighed and turned his head.  "I know
you're tired, but I need to take your temperature before I give you any more
medicine."  He opened his eyes and tried to sit up, but her hands pushed
him back down.  "You don't need to get up, just open your mouth."
He did as she asked without comment, which worried her as much as
anything.  He seemed to be drifting off again as she waited but stirred when
she removed the thermometer.

"Well?" he asked.

"It's 102.  I don't think it was that high last night."

He shrugged and sat up, then coughed several times.  It caused the
pounding in his head to become a dull roar and he leaned his head over
into his hands, rubbing at his eyes.

"Head hurt?"

He nodded.  "It feels like I have the flu or something."

"It's the 'or something' that I'm worried about, Mulder."  When he didn't
comment, she continued.  "I brought you some juice and a donut if you
feel like eating.  And some more aspirin.  I'd really like to get you back
to DC and have you checked out."

"I'll be okay, Scully.  I'm sure it's just the flu."

"Mulder you have no idea what happened to you in that truck.  You could
have been exposed to something that's making you sick now."

He raised his head and looked at her.  He really hadn't considered that. 
Of course, he barely felt able to string together a few words at the moment.
Then it hit him. "Ohmygod, Scully.  What if I've exposed YOU to something."
He started breathing hard and Scully thought he was going to hyperventilate.
She rushed to his side.

"Easy, Mulder.  Take deep breaths, that's it, just slow down."  When she
was sure that the raw panic was subsiding, she decided to voice her real
concern.  "Mulder, do you remember anything at all about last night?"

He ran his hand through his hair, trying to think.  He shook his head.  "Nothing
after I climbed onto the back of that truck.  The next thing is the MPs dragging
me off."

"What was in the truck when they pulled you off?"

"Um, a big box, like a closet.  The door had a small window in it.  It was
open and empty."

"Was it empty before?"

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying hard to remember.  He let out a slow
breath.  "I don't know."

"Mulder, last night you talked in your sleep.  You said something about
the Bounty Hunter --"

His eyes opened wider, recalling the dream tidbit.  Scully noticed the
change in expression.  "Was he there, Mulder?"

"I, I don't know."  He shook his head.  "Maybe."

"Mulder, did you know that a round had been fired from your gun?"

"What?"

"I saw one of the MPs eject the clip. There was a round missing."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes.  You didn't fire it earlier, did you?"

"No."

"Then it must have happened in the truck."

"Scully, if I shot the Bounty Hunter, shouldn't I be dead about now?"

"Mulder, you've already survived the retrovirus once.  Your body built
antibodies to it.  If you were exposed again last night, this could be
your immune system kicking in to fight it."  She sat for a moment
while the information soaked in.  "At any rate, the sooner we get
back to DC, the sooner we can check you out."

She retrieved the bottle of apple juice and handed it to Mulder.

"What, no coffee?"

"None for you.  Just drink the juice."

He opened the bottle, really wishing for some of the coffee he saw
sitting on the table.  He took the tablets Scully handed him and
washed them down with some juice.  When she offered him a donut
he grimaced and shook his head.  Just the thought of eating it was
making him queasy.

Scully sat down at the table, opened her coffee, noticing that Mulder
was staring at her.  She shrugged.  "You don't need the caffeine right
now, Mulder.  As soon as the car starts moving you'll probably be
asleep."  He was still staring.  "It would probably just make you sick
right now anyway."   He looked away and took another drink of the
juice.  Scully smiled a little.  Could it be that he'd be reasonable for
a change?

"But if I feel better on the way, we're stopping for more coffee."

* * * *

The trip back to DC had been uneventful.  Except for the accident
that held up traffic for 30 minutes or so.  But Mulder had slept through
it all anyway.  She hadn't been able to convince him to stretch out in
the back seat, and had finally conceded that he'd probably be safer
strapped in the front seat. He had pushed the front seat back as far
as it would go -- good thing this car has bucket seats or my feet would
never reach the pedals, thought Scully -- reclined it and had promptly
fallen asleep.  She had even stopped once and he didn't stir.   She
looked at him for the hundredth time.  He didn't look as feverish, but
that was probably just the aspirin working.  As they neared Washington,
she pulled out her cell phone, got the number for Northeast Georgetown
Medical Center from information.  She felt like she should have it
memorized by now, goodness knows Mulder probably did.  She asked to
speak to Dr. Rivers, one of the doctors that had handled Mulder's case
when they had returned from Alaska.  She explained that she thought
he might have been exposed to the retrovirus again, what had happened
last night and this morning, and his condition at the moment.  The doctor
agreed that he needed to be checked and also suggested that he be
kept in isolation until they determined whether or not he had been in
contact with the retrovirus again.  Scully knew it was a sensible precaution,
but Mulder wasn't going to be happy about it at all.  He instructed her to
come in a different way, through the morgue entrance -- well, at least she
knew exactly where that was -- and they'd meet them with appropriate
precautions.  She knew she'd be included in the quarantine, since she'd
been taking care of him.  Skinner was not going to be pleased.  And she'd
have to call her Mom and let her know what was going on.

She stopped the car close to the rear entrance of the hospital and saw
yellow clad, masked figures on the other side of the door.  She got out
and went to the passenger side, opened the door, and unfastened
the seat belt.  Mulder woke suddenly and grabbed her arm.

"It's okay, Mulder," she said soothingly.  "We're at the hospital."

"Oh, okay." He sat up and looked around, frowning.  "I don't think I'm that
close to being dead, Scully," he said inclining his head to the sign that
said "Morgue".

Scully smiled.  "You're not, but since the retrovirus is a threat, you need
to be quarantined."

"Oh, no.  I am NOT staying here.  Just draw some blood and take me home."

"I'm afraid it doesn't work that way, Mulder."

"Scully!" he whined.

"Don't get  whiney on me, Mulder.  I'll be right there with you."

"What?"  he asked, then realization dawned.  She'd have to be in
quarantine too, because of him. "I'm sorry, Scully.  You shouldn't
have to go through this."

"What, quarantine?"  He nodded.  "Mulder, it's just a precaution.  I bet we'll
only be there long enough to get the results back on your bloodwork."

Mulder looked over her shoulder at the approaching people.  At least
they weren't wearing Haz Mat suits.  "Then will you take me home?"

"We'll see, Mulder."

* * * *

Scully sat in a chair, watching Mulder sleep.  She wondered how many
times she was destined to do this, and shook her head.  His temperature
had gone back up, and he had started vomiting.  Much to his distress,
they had started him on IV fluids.  He had been "resting comfortably"
for the last couple of hours, which meant he was asleep and not
complaining.  She fingered the bandage on her own arm where they
had drawn blood.  Even if Mulder had been exposed, if her tests came
back clean, they'd be in the clear.  She hoped.

Dr. Rivers walked in ,without a mask.  Scully smiled.  "I hope this is
good news."

"I believe it is, Dr. Scully."  He sat down beside her and opened a chart.
"Agent Mulder was definitely exposed to that virus.  He's had a huge
increase in the antibody titer since it was last checked, but no active
virus.  His bloodwork also showed moderate dehydration, hence the fluids,
and general signs of stress.  Nothing too bad."  He paused, and picked up
another chart.  "Your bloodwork shows no evidence of active virus either,
so you're both cleared to be out of quarantine.  However, I would like to
keep Agent Mulder overnight at least.  We need to make sure his temp
doesn't spike up too high, and he should really stay on the IV until he can
keep something down."

Scully nodded.  "He won't be happy about having to stay, but I expected
as much.  Do you think all these symptoms are caused by his reaction to
the retrovirus?"

"He's pretty exhausted, so I'd say at least some of what he's going through
is due to that."  He paused and looked closely at Scully. "Dr. Scully, you've
been through a lot the last few days yourself.  I understand that you were
recently hospitalized.  You really need to get some rest."

"Yeah, Scully," croaked Mulder from the bed.  "Listen to the man."
They turned and looked at Mulder.  He cleared his throat.  "Now, if you'll
just hand me my clothes, I'll be out of your hair."

"Obviously you didn't hear the entire conversation, Agent Mulder," said
Rivers.  "You're not going anywhere right now."  Mulder frowned.
The doctor continued.  "You can leave when your temperature has
stabilized and you can keep food down."  Mulder looked at Scully.

"Listen to the man," said Scully.

Mulder scowled.  He still felt pretty rotten, so even though he really,
really didn't want to be in a hospital, he decided not to argue.  At least
not right now.

Dr. Rivers smiled.  "Good.  I'll be back to check in on you later."  He
left the pair of agents alone.

"Scully, what about the retrovirus?"

Scully sat back down in the chair.  "Well, Mulder, you were definitely
exposed, but no active virus could be detected.  Your immune system
is doing its job."

"Is that why I feel like last week's sweatsocks?"

Scully laughed.  "Yes, at least for the most part."

"What's the other part?"

"Mulder, you're exhausted.  Not counting last night, I bet you haven't
slept more than a few hours in the last several days.  And we won't even
begin to discuss your diet.  When was your last substantial meal?"

Mulder looked intently at his hands, then glanced up, grinning.  "Does a
hot dog count?"

Scully glared at him.  "I don't think so, Mulder."

Mulder's expression turned serious.  "I guess this is better than the
alternative."  He sighed.  "And I guess this confirms that the Bounty
Hunter or one of his 'brothers' was in that truck."

"Looks like it," said Scully.

"But we still don't know what that means."

"No.  No we don't, Mulder."  She reached over and took his hand.
"Mulder, before we left your apartment on this little adventure, you
told me that we might find an answer to a question that we seemed
to have been destined to ask."  She looked at him.

He looked down at their hands. "I'm not sure I know what the question
is, Scully."

"We'll find the question and the answer, Mulder," said Scully.

Mulder nodded and lightly squeezed her hand.  "I think we will," he
said, looking up at her.  "We have to."

The End

FrankieH@aol.com