NEW: Fevers of the Mind (2 of 2)Fevers of the Mind (2/2) by Vickie Moseley vickiemoseley1978@yahoo.com Georgetown Memorial 8:15 am "sccc-u-u-ull-lleeee," he rasped again, tossing his head from one side to the next. "I'm here, Mulder. I'm right here," she crooned, but just as they had for the last half hour, her words fell on deaf ears. He wouldn't listen, or more frightening to her, he couldn't listen. Deafness was a very real possibility when the brain swelled and the fever grew to such heights. She stroked his face with the damp cloth in her hand. "Please, Mulder. Open your eyes. You'll see I'm right here." She'd managed to sleep about three hours before his fever spiked again and dropped him into this state of restless movement. The nurse taking his vitals had put in another call to Harriman, but the doctor decided to wait before changing medications. So Scully had asked for a bowl and a face cloth and began the ritual her mother had performed on her and her siblings when they had fevers. "scully?" The whisper was so soft she thought it was a moan. When she looked at his face, the hazel showing through the slits of his eyelids conveyed a spark of coherence. "Mulder," she said with a smile. "Hey, good morning." He blinked and moved his shoulders. "hot," he said. "neck hurts," he added. "I know, I'm sorry. We're waiting for the good stuff to kick in. Can you hold on for me a little longer?" He moved his head up and down cautiously; it obviously hurt to move his head much at all. "water?" he asked. "Sure," she replied and brought a cup up to his lips, moving the straw so he didn't have to lean forward to reach it. He took a few sips and then released the straw. "thank you." "You're welcome. Why don't you try to go back to sleep now," she encouraged. "you're tired, too" he accused, his face taking on a stubborn expression. "I'm fine. I slept while you were sleeping. But you need to rest and let your body and the medicine do their jobs." He had no answer to that, so he closed his eyes with a defeated sigh. Harriman came by at 9 and announced that he was adding ampicillin to the current antibiotic in the hopes of getting a handle on the infection. Scully was relieved that the doctor was making a change. She told him about the few moments when Mulder seemed to be awake and aware. "He'll be in and out for a while, even after we get the fever under control. It's the long-term effects that pose the greatest risks right now. If we can avoid the usual complications of this disease, hearing loss, blindness, we'll all count ourselves lucky. At least we haven't had to contend with seizures yet." Scully prayed that seizures wouldn't be a problem. She knew more than anyone what that would mean for Mulder. Field agent status regulations were explicit on such matters -- no agent with a history of seizures was allowed in the field. They'd had to tap dance around his ketamine incident, basically saying his seizures then were injury related and in no way a lasting condition. She didn't want to deal with the ramifications of a full medical evaluation when this crisis was over. She took his hand once again. "Mulder, please, hang on." Jefferson Memorial night He'd always loved looking at the lights of the city reflected in the cool depths of the reflecting pool. The headlights of the cars on Independence Avenue made a string of pearls in the distance. He was alone, but his mind was at peace. He felt her presence before he actually saw her sit down next to him. "Is this seat taken?" He smiled at the old joke. "It is now," he said with a smile in her direction but not really catching her eyes with his. "What are you doing here?" "Looking for somebody," she replied. He tensed, waiting for the inevitable argument. That's all they'd been doing for days -- arguing. Ever since the OPR hearing, ever since she'd all but hung him out to dry before the powers that be, they'd barely said two civil words to each other. He'd come here to find some peace; he didn't want to start the war again. "Scully -- " "I'm looking for a friend of mine. See, we've been having a bit of a rough patch and I've said some things and he's said some things and I think we're both really tired and we just want everything to be all right again. You haven't seen anybody with a white flag running around here, have you?" He couldn't keep the grin off his face. He dug in his pocket and withdrew his cotton handkerchief. "You mean this?" he asked, waving it in the air briefly before dropping to his lap. She reached over and picked up the hankie, giving it a quick wave. "Gee, it works," she said with a tilt to her head. "Mulder, I wanted to say I'm sorry -- " "Scully, as you pointed out, we both said some things." She stared off in the distance for a moment. "I guess I also wanted to ask you a question," she said timidly. He chewed on his lip. He had a feeling he knew what she was going to ask. The bigger question was did he have an honest answer. "You want to know about Diana," he countered. She looked over at him and drew in a breath. "Yeah. I need to know -- " "I'm not in a relationship with her, Scully," he blurted out. " -- why you trust her and not me?" Scully finished, right over his outburst. He felt his heart tear right down the middle. "It isn't like that," he insisted. "Yes, Mulder. Yes, it is exactly that. You trust her, beyond the evidence, beyond all reason. I want to know . . . I need to know why. Is it something I've done to cause you to lose faith in me?" He felt all the air leave his body. It was almost as bad as if she'd punched him in the gut. "Scully, I've never lost my faith in you," he whispered, barely able to get the words out because he was so surprised by her question. "Then why, all the times it has come right down to the line, do you always believe her and not me?" she asked evenly, looking him square in the eye. He had to look away first and he knew that was the wrong thing to do. She would misunderstand; take it as a sign that she was right. So her grabbed her hands firmly in both of his and swallowed. Please, if I ever needed the right words, I need them now, he prayed. "Scully, I never told you about Diana and me and I'm very sorry I didn't." "It's not any of my business what you were in the past, Mulder," she interjected, he noted the tone of bitterness in her words. "Whatever you had together it was before I came along. I'm not foolish enough to think you had no friends before me," she said with a tilt of her head. "But after all our years together, I have to wonder if maybe I was seeing too much into our relationship. If maybe I was just . . . standing in for her. I mean, when we were first partnered, my greatest fear was that I was a substitute for Samantha, but now I think -- " "Scully, please, please listen to me. This is hard to explain but believe me when I tell you that you were never a substitute for anyone. Your place in my life is yours and yours alone and no one but you can take that place. Now, please, can I say what I was going to say before?" He could almost see the wheels and gears turning in her head. She was trying to decide if she really wanted to give him another chance. Finally, he knew the instant she found in his favor. He relaxed a second and started to speak again. "I met Diana when we were both working Violent Crimes. We weren't partners, not officially, but we worked a couple of task forces together. Her expertise is psychology and mine is, or rather was, psychology, so we figured out pretty fast that it made it easier to share the load rather than do the same work twice." She leaned back in the seat, but allowed him to continue holding her hands. "You've seen, at least a couple of times, the kind of reaction I got from most of the guys in VCU. Frankly, Tom Colton was tame compared to some of them. So, it was nice to have someone to talk to, who understood a little of what I was going through -- who was going through it themselves. Sort of like it's been for the last 7 years," he added with a raised eyebrow in her direction and a gentle squeeze of her hands. She wasn't about to make this easier on him -- she stared right back at him without acknowledging his gestures. He swallowed and started again. "Well, I was pretty much a total cad back then, as I'm sure you're heard. I was sleeping my way through the support staff when Diana and I started working together. I don't think I led anyone on, they were all 'one night stands' and no one sent me hate mail or anything, so I was pretty oblivious. We were working late one night, at her apartment and -- " "Mulder, I really don't want to hear this," Scully said, pulling on her hands to break their connection. He held her all the tighter. "Scully, please, it's important. Please. Trust me," he begged. That earned him a glare, but she stopped tugging on her hands. "OK, well, we slept together. And the next morning, we agreed that it was the biggest mistake we ever could have made. So we decided, mutually, to forget it ever happened and go back to being friends." Scully sat up straight, shock on her face. "Wait a minute. Byers said . . . Frohike called her your 'little chickadee' . . ." "Scully, I don't tell the guys my exploits. At least not with the people I care about. They made assumptions, big assumptions. And I didn't bother to dispel any of them because, frankly, it wasn't their business." "Anyway, back to the story. So we got a case, I was the profiler, Diana was helping me out. It was . . . bad. Women, they were all about the same age Samantha should have been -- and I was just starting my work with Dr. Weber. Needless to say, it had a horrible effect on me. One night I was in the conference room that we had set up for the case and it all just overwhelmed me. I was alone when it happened -- " "Mulder," she said, drawing in a breath. "What happened?" "I lost it. Completely. When Diana found me, I was, uh, my gun . . . " He couldn't say the word. Not ever after all the years, he couldn't bring himself to say the word 'suicide'. "I had cut myself pretty bad tearing up the room and one window and I was bleeding, I didn't even know it. She got the gun away from me and uh, she got me out of there. She knew of a clinic in Northeast DC," he snorted at the memory. "I was the only male on the premises, except for one other doctor. Anyway, they stitched me up, gave me fluids. From somewhere Diana got a prescription for some sedatives. She took me back to her apartment and didn't leave me for the next 72 hours." "She should have taken you to a hospital," Scully seethed. "If she had, it would have ended my career," he said softly. "So, anyway, I slept it off, basically. I took the sedatives for a couple of weeks, they did help. I finally got Weber to give me a prescription, my own prescription for them. And I knew I had to get out of Violent Crimes. Diana convinced me to call in some markers -- she knew that Sen. Matheson was a friend of my mother's from college. I went to him and got reassigned to the X files." She pulled one of her hands away, but only to wipe at her cheek. He realized she was crying. Then he realized, he was crying too. "Diana was so supportive of me, she just wanted to help. I needed a friend so bad back then . . . " He swallowed and cleared his throat. "So I got to work. Pretty soon, I came across some stuff I couldn't do by myself and Diana stepped in. She wasn't assigned to the files; she could only help me after hours and on weekends. We pretty much took up the whole weekend, every weekend, just sorting through what was in the file cabinets." "So what happened? Why did she leave?" He shrugged. "I guess she got a better offer?" he said, trying for the joke but it fell horribly flat. "Seriously, one day she came to me with the news that she'd been offered a chance to go to Europe, something she'd always dreamed of doing. I think, well, it's probably just my ego, but I thought at the time that if I'd asked her to stay, she would have. But I was stronger, I'd grown stronger with her help. So I wished her the best, helped her sell her furniture and clean out her apartment and drove her to the airport. That was that." He looked down at their hands together. "I have a very hard time thinking that the same woman who could have easily ended my career but didn't -- would do anything to hurt me," he said slowly. "I have no evidence to support such a finding. I know that Diana has done some things, and to be perfectly honest, if anyone should be jealous -- it should be Diana. When she left, I think she figured she could always come back and pick up exactly where we left off. But then she did come back and there you were and things were changed, very changed. I think she felt threatened by that. I think some of the animosity you have against her is a natural reaction to the animosity she has for you." "You think this is just a silly quarrel of two girls over a boy in high school?" Scully growled, tugging her hands free. "No, no, not at all!" he was quick to counter and took one of her hands back into his. "I'm just saying the two of you were not going to be fast friends, no matter how you first met. You didn't just read the files, Scully. You _became_ the files. The truth we search for isn't just my truth about my sister; it's YOUR truth about what happened to you, what happened to Melissa, what happened to Emily. And I think, in a way, that's what has Diana so upset. That not only did you step in and take her place in the files, you did so in such a way that she could never get them back, even if she tried. It's not me that she's jealous over, Scully. It's what we found in those files." Scully pulled her hand away only for a moment, to lay it on his cheek. "Mulder, you are a fool. A sweet, innocent, totally oblivious fool and it's putting you in danger. Diana doesn't want the files. She wants your soul. And until you understand that, there isn't any reason for me to stay and watch your self-destruction." She stood and laid the same hand on the top of his head. "You have some thinking to do." As she walked into the night, he dropped his face to his hands and sobbed. Georgetown Memorial 12:05 pm Scully was exhausted. Having spent close to 12 hours bathing Mulder's face and chest, his temperature was finally showing some improvement. She dropped to the chair near his bed and closed her eyes for just a second. When a hand clasped her shoulder, she jumped a foot. "Dana, sweetheart, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you," Maggie Scully apologized hurriedly. "Dana, are you all right?" "Mom, what are you doing here?" she asked, wiping sleep from her eyes. "I haven't heard from you in weeks, Dana," Maggie said in exasperation. "I left messages at your apartment -- " "I was out of town for a while," Scully interjected, but her mother continued as if the younger woman hadn't said a thing. "-- and finally I called your office. I talked to your supervisor, Mr. Skinner. He told me that Fox was in the hospital again and that you were probably still with him. I came right away. Dana, did you sleep here last night?" The exasperation was quickly becoming concern. "Mom, Mulder has meningitis. I did stay here last night, but I didn't get much sleep. He's been running a high temp and he's been very restless." Maggie looked over at the man in the bed with a worried expression. "Well, he seems to be resting now. Why don't you come downstairs and get something to eat?" "Mom, I don't -- " "Dana, please. We go through this every time Fox is in the hospital. You can tell the nurses where you're going, we'll only stay down there a half an hour, tops. You need to eat -- you're running yourself into the ground. And then what good will you be to him when he's ready to go home?" It was a hard decision, but Amy, the nurse assigned to Mulder's care, encouraged her to go. So it was only a few minutes later that Scully found herself seated in the hospital cafeteria with a salad, meatloaf and mashed potatoes and an iced tea in front of her. "Their meatloaf is really pretty good," Maggie confided. "Not as good as Grandma Mulligan's recipe, but not that bad, either." "When did you get to be an expert on Georgetown Memorial's meatloaf, Mom," Dana asked, taking a bite and finding her mother's assessment wasn't far from the mark. Maggie dropped her eyes to her own plate. "I've been here too many times to count," she said darkly. But the shadow passed quickly and she looked up and smiled at her daughter. "Now, tell me, where have you been for the last two weeks? Even your cell phone was off. Another case?" Scully drew in a breath and fought the tears that burned her eyes. "Mom, I was in Africa. The Ivory Coast, to be exact." "Africa! Good heaven's Dana! What in heaven's name were you doing there?" "Heaven wasn't really involved," Dana quipped bitterly. She looked over at her mother's shocked expression. "I'm sorry. I'm just so tired right now . . ." Maggie reached across the table and clutched Scully's hand. "Sweetheart, I know you're worried about Fox, but I know these doctors and he's receiving -- " "It's not that . . . well, it is, but it's not just that. Something happened in Africa -- I saw something and I need to understand -- Mom, if I could give you solid scientific proof that the God we know, the God they've taught us about all these years in religion class and in the Mass was just a fairy tale, that something altogether different happened millions of years ago, continues to happen today -- would you hate me for it?" she asked timidly. Maggie's face underwent a thousand emotional changes until she settled on one -- understanding. "Dana, my faith isn't based in science. And to be honest, science never provides all the answers. Every new discovery, every new piece of 'solid proof' just leads to more questions and more discoveries in the future. Science is constantly being shaped by what just happened. Faith, my darling daughter, isn't like that. Faith is an absolute -- because faith doesn't rely on proof and evidence. Faith just is. So, to answer your question, no, I could never hate you. But to go even further, no matter what you showed me, it wouldn't change my faith at all. My faith is stronger than that. It's held fast through so many rough times. It's seen me through so many dark periods of my life. I believe in God, the way He's always been shown to me. How He came to exist, whatever He might be, He's still the same God to me. That's all I need to know." Scully was openly crying by then. She nodded, and tried to control herself, but the tears just wouldn't cooperate. Maggie sensed immediately what was needed. "Dana, come with me. There's somewhere we need to go." They gathered up their trays and took them to the tray return. Maggie grasped Scully's hand again, leading her through the hallways, up elevators, around corners until they stood in front of an ornate wooden door. The small brass plaque proclaimed simply 'Chapel'. Maggie smiled at her daughter and opened the door. "I know what you've seen has shaken your faith, sweetheart. But know one thing -- no matter where you go, it will be here, waiting for you to come home. Now, let's go say a prayer for Fox, that he'll have the strength to see him through this illness." She reached up and cupped her daughter's cheek. "And that you'll have the strength to understand whatever it is you think you encountered." Scully nodded, fighting more tears, and followed her mother into the chapel. Hallway night This time he knew exactly where he was because he walked there himself. Diana's apartment door stood in front of him. He knew what he had to do, he just wondered if he had the guts to do it. Finally, drawing in a deep breath, he knocked three times. It took a few seconds for her to come to the door. He thought he heard voices, but it could have been the television. When the door finally opened, she stood before him dressed in a simple v-neck sweater and slacks. Her hair was down around her shoulders and she looked as pretty as she had the first day they'd met. "Fox! What a surprise. Come in," she greeted him with a bright smile. "I didn't expect to see you tonight." "Diana, we have to talk," Mulder said by way of introduction and deftly avoided the kiss on the cheek Diana tried to give him. "Sure," she said hesitantly. "Come in and sit down. Would you like something to drink? I have iced tea, or there might be a couple of beers -- it's been a while since I entertained," she said with a playful wink. "Nothing, thank you. Could we just sit down?" he asked. His stomach was in knots and his head was hurting. Tension, he knew it was all tension, but it didn't stop the pain. "Please?" "Certainly," she said and concern lit up her features. "Fox, are you all right? You look pale." She took his arm to escort him to the sofa, but he veered away from her and took a seat on a chair instead. "What is it? What's wrong?" "Diana, why did you come back from Europe?" he asked bluntly, his expression cool and steady. Get the facts, just get the facts, he kept repeating in his head. "Why, I told you, Fox. There were things back home I needed to attend," she said cryptically and dropped her head so that her hair covered her face. She looked up at him through the shield of her hair. "Quite frankly, you were back here." Mulder nodded, but looking at her, he saw everything clearly. It wasn't the look of a lost love he was seeing. For the first time, it was the look of deception. "Really?" he asked, his voice taking an edge. "Five years, not even a note, not a card at Christmas. I'd pretty much figured you'd written us off years ago. But all of a sudden, when I come so close to finding the key to everything in the X files, you show up." "The X files were once mine, too, Fox. Don't forget that," she interjected. "No, Diana, no. I'll admit you were there for me when I first found them, but aside from 'helping' me on a few occasions, you made it abundantly clear that your interests were elsewhere." "My interest was in you," she replied, reaching across the few feet of space that separated him to grasp his hand. He allowed it, for a moment. "We agreed -- " "No, Fox. You dictated. That morning, after we'd spent the night together, you woke up in a panic. I knew that if I didn't go along with you, I would lose you forever. So you dictated and I acquiesced to your demands. You said it was a mistake, and you were probably correct. It was too early in the relationship for us to -- " "Diana, you never loved me," he said, cutting her off. Her head shot up and her eyes took on a tortured grimace. "How can you say that?" she asked, her voice cracking. "Because it was a job. Your job. There was a time that I wouldn't have believed it, but I know a lot more now. And I know that they were watching me, have watched me since I was a kid. You were sent to make sure I stayed off the right path, that I was dangled just enough bait to satisfy their needs, but never enough to satisfy my own. But you screwed up, you got 'too' involved with your work," he sneered. "And they sent you away and found someone else, a harder nut to crack." Her face was a mask of confusion. "What are you talking about? Who are you talking about? Fox, there wasn't anyone. We met -- don't you remember? We met shortly after you got out of the Academy -- " "Oh, yes, Diana. And a very wise man once told me the best place to hide the truth is between two lies. Yes, we met, but it wasn't entirely by accident. You came up to me in the cafeteria. You asked me about a case you had. It was all planned, from the very beginning. You played me for a fool, Diana. Did you laugh about it later? Did you congratulate yourself on how easy it was to sucker in the poor sex-starved sap? I bet you really had a field day over my 'panic' -- as you call it. You didn't falter one step. You just waited until the hook was set to reel me in!" The slap was a surprise, but a welcomed one. It meant he was getting somewhere. "How dare you come into my home and accuse me of those things!" she shouted. He smiled. She'd just echoed his mother's words. More words of deception. She wasn't denying the accusations, she was just angry they had been made. He heard a noise in the back of the apartment. Someone was back there. He stood up and she followed, tugging at his arm. "Fox, please, let's talk about this. I don't know where you got these crazy ideas. You have to know I would never lie to you! I love you, Fox, I have always loved you! Can't you see that? I want to help you -- I would be more helpful than she's been with her science and her logic." Her voice had taken on a shrill quality that he found particularly annoying. "Don't talk about Scully," he growled, but he didn't let her deter him from the closed door at the end of the hall. Finally, he was there and he grasped the doorknob and opened it. Light spilled into the darkened room, illuminating it just enough to reveal the bed. Someone was lying on the bed and that person turned to face the two people standing in the doorway. "Diana, you didn't tell me tonight was threesome night," a gleeful Smoking Man said from his position on the bed. Only a sheet covered him to his bare chest. "But I must warn you, I think this might constitute incest -- at least as far as Fox is concerned." Mulder spun on his heel and stalked to the front door. Diana grabbed at his arm, trying to pull him back. He shook her off angrily. "Fox, wait, it's not what you think," Diana begged, tears streaming down her face. "Not this time, Diana. I won't listen to your lies anymore," he said defiantly. "Where are you going? You're going back to her, aren't you?" Diana accused. As he grasped the doorknob he stopped and looked at his former friend. "That's the one thing you and Scully never understood. I'm not going _back_ to her. I never left her. Nothing you did made me want to leave what I have with her. It's about time you figured that out." As he strode purposefully down the hall, he muttered to himself "and now it's time to make sure Scully understands that, too." Georgetown Memorial 6:54 pm Scully sat in the recliner, dosing lightly. Maggie had come up and sat with Mulder long enough for Scully to grab a shower in the doctors' lounge and change into some scrubs. When her mother left for home, she'd made Scully promise to eat again at dinnertime and to call if there was any change. Mulder had slept through it all. At least his temperature showed he was finally responding to the antibiotic cocktail. It was down to a respectable 100. Scully had been thrilled at the news. It gave her the peace of mind to allow her body to find rest. But even as she slept, she kept her hand on his arm, anchoring him to her. The sound was soft, not more than a moan, but she could hear her name. She pulled herself from her sleep and looked closely at her partner. He was calling for her, but it wasn't as urgent or as frantic as it had been during the night. This time it was almost as if he was just trying to catch her attention at the office or at a crime scene. She smiled and sat forward, moving her hand from his arm to his forehead, stroking along the edge of the bandage that encircled his head. "Mulder. I'm right here. Wake up. See, I'm right here," she coaxed. Slowly, he opened his eyes. She'd anticipated his sensitivity to light and had turned down the overheads after the last vitals check. He blinked sleepily and smiled at her, working his throat a time or two. She saw that as his signal that he was thirsty and offered him a cup of water, holding the straw to his lips so he wouldn't have to move his neck too much. "Thanks," he rasped hoarsely. "You're welcome," she replied with a smile. "How's your head?" He thought a while, moving his hand to rub against the bandage. "Sore. Neck is still sore, but not as bad." She nodded and smiled again. "You've had quite a ride. Maybe it's time to just get better now, huh?" "Yeah, I think you're right," he agreed readily. "What day is it?" "November 18th," she told him, watching his reaction. "Professor Merkmillan was reported missing -- " "November first. Skinner called us in on November second," she reminded him. "How long have I been here?" he asked tiredly. "All total, just shy of two weeks." He frowned shook his head slightly, wincing at the action. "I missed the premiere of Saturday Night Live," he groused. "I'm sure it will be repeated this summer, Mulder. If not on Comedy Central within a year. You didn't miss much." "I missed what you discovered," he said, taking her hand. "I heard you, Scully. Asking me to hang on. I wanted to let you know that I understood but -- " She squeezed his fingers. "I'm just glad you listened. For once." "I do listen, more than you know. Scully, I need to clear something up that's been hanging between us now for too long. Diana -- what you've tried to tell me -- " "Mulder," she said, putting a finger to his lips. "Mulder please, I don't want to argue. You aren't in any shape -- " He moved her finger but didn't let go of her hand. "Scully, I believe you. I believe what you were trying to tell me at the Gunmen's. I know she's dirty. She was . . . she is working with . . . him." "Oh, Mulder," she sighed. "We don't have to talk about this now -- you need to rest. You're still quite sick and I don't want to risk a relapse -- " "Scully, please, just listen to me and then I'll go back to sleep. I can barely keep my eyes open but I want to tell you this." He waited until she nodded to continue. "Scully, all those times you thought I was taking Diana's side over yours -- I wasn't. Not really. I know it looked that way, but every time I did check on what you told me, I did look at the evidence. I just . . . it just took me a long time to figure out that I had been fooled." "Mulder, I'm sorry. I knew you and Diana were close and to be perfectly honest, I was . . . I was jealous of what you had with her." Mulder smiled and brought her hand to his lips where he gently placed a kiss on her knuckles. "Scully, you were the last person who should have felt jealous." He closed his eyes and she thought he was drifting off to sleep but he tugged on her hand. "So tell me, what did you find in Africa?" She smiled then, reaching up to stroke his forehead. "Mulder, I want to tell you everything. But for now, we both need to sleep." "OK, but when we wake up?" "When we wake up, we'll talk. I promise." the end.