PAIN IN THE NECK AUTHOR Sally Bahnsen August 99 - January 2000 Distribution: I will send to MTA, Ephemeral,and try to send it to xemplary. Anyone else please feel free to pick it up. Disclaimer: All the really good characters belong to Chris. And if I had my way, they'd continue to do so for another season at least. I just want to borrow them, I really can't afford their upkeep, so I'll be handing them back at the end. Spoilers- vague reference to the pilot episode and Demons. Rating- PG 13 Category- S, underlying H, A, MT (and when I'm done posting, this sucker is alphabet soup!) Summary: Mulder isn't feeling well. He finds out his mom is missing. Oops, there goes any hope of Scully getting him to rest and recover. Dedication: This is dedicated to Vickie Moseley. Words can not express how grateful I am to all the help and encouragement she has given me. Not only is she a GREAT writer but a wonderful person as well. Where she could be content to bask in the adulation of her many readers, she continues to help other writers with their work as well. Through all her many successes as a writer she remains humble and down to earth. I take my hat off to you Vickie, and thankyou from the bottom of my heart. Authors notes: This story has taken me forever and a day to write. It's that real life thing that keeps imposing. I want to thank Suzanne for her excellent advice on medical stuff, , Donna for geographical advice, and of course Vickie, for technical advice on what it is like to suffer as Mulder has suffered in this story And all three of you for fixing my Australian ways and trying to get me to write and spell and think like... Y'all. Thanks heaps mateys. A PAIN IN THE NECK by Sally Bahnsen Wednesday July 7th 7am It started as a little tremor, at first I barely noticed it. Gradually though, the tempo increased. I feel my body rolling from side to side, the force driving my head into my hands, crushing them into the hard wooden floor. Where the hell am I? How how did I get here? My head doesn't hurt, well, not really. Am I in the trunk of a car, or a train? Then out of the depths of my foggy brain I hear a voice calling to me. It's so far away though. Such a beautiful voice, so soft, and caring. I sink into its velvety cadence and let it carry me away... "MULDER!" Whoa! What happened to the nice soft, caring voice? That sounded more like a platoon seargent on boot camp. The shaking returns "Leave me alone." Was that my voice? God I hope not. It sounded like some wimpy .... "Mulder. Come on Mulder wake up." That's better the softness has returned to the voice. It sounds sooo nice. May be I'll take a look and see who it belongs to. I open my eyes just a little. Train, or trunk? Nope! Papers and shelves and filing cabinets. No, not again. I'm still in the basement, and the hard floor under my hands is my desk. Now I know the voice. "Scully?" God, it's still the wimp speaking. I clear my throat in an attempt to sound more like the manly man I really am, but shit, that hurts. I swallow instead and thats even worse. "Mulder? Are you awake?" Scully again. "MmmHmm." Not exactly articulate but it sure beats the hell out of talking. Fire is now burning a path along the back of my throat. I pull myself up into a sitting position, a groan escaping my lips as stiff muscles protest. I get a clearer picture of Scully once I'm upright. She's got that look on her face. The one that says she's annoyed that I spent the night in the office. But just around the edges I think I see concern there too. "Mulder are you okay? I found you asleep at your desk." She doesn't say it but the tone reeks of *again*. "Hey, Scully." My voice is nothing more than a hoarse whisper, and it doesn't escape Scully's notice. She moves closer to me and places her hand on my forehead. Aah, that feels so good. Cool, soft fingers rest on my brow and I find myself leaning into her touch, my eyes drooping shut again. "Mulder you're sick." She states quite simply. "You're burning up." Well that would explain a few things. Like why my throat feels like someone's been attacking it with sand paper, and why, now, suddenly I am freezing cold and just to prove it my body starts to shiver and my teeth start tapping a tune in time to it. "I'm fine Scully." I know. It's a blatant lie but do I really want to get into a debate about my health? She steps back from the desk and folds her arms across her chest. Her lips are pursed in a frigid line and I know this is Scully's version of calm, just before the storm. "Okay Mulder, if you say so." Hmm. Not quite the comeback I was expecting. Is she trying reverse psychology on me? HA! Scully. I'm the psychologist, not you, it's not gonna work. And I let her know it. "Yes, I say so." I stand up quickly just to prove my point. Big mistake. As soon as I'm up a fine grey mist starts to roll in, just at the edges of my vision. I can feel myself swaying and grab blindly for the desk, the chair, any thing to stop the inevitable journey to the floor. Just as I start to feel my body list dangerously to the side a pair of small, strong hands take hold of my arm and push me into a chair. "Head down Mulder." She punctuates this statement by gently grabbing my head and forcing it between my legs. I close my eyes, hoping it will help the room to stop spinning. And yes it does, but it doesn't stop the rocking and rolling inside my head. "Breathe normally Mulder. Slow even breaths." Familiar territory. Remember Scully, I've been here before. Eventually the spinning stops and I dare to open my eyes. To my relief the grey edges are gone and I find my eyes are focusing beautifully on the floor. I had no idea how dusty this office gets. Scully lets me up and I take a couple of deep breaths just to steady myself. I look at my partner and I'm feeling somewhat contrite. The look of concern in her eyes is almost enough to undo me. She can see through me everytime. I don't know why I bother to lie to her about my health. I guess it's a deep rooted thing dating back to my childhood. I always had to take care of myself if I got sick, mom was too out of it, and dad was too far away, emotionally, if not physically. Scully, squatting down by my side rests a hand on my shoulder. She is looking up at me, a small smile on her face. Must be that nurturing instinct women get, if I was her I'm not sure I'd be as understanding. "Mulder. I'm not going to ask you again if you're okay. I think the answer is as plain as the nose on your face." "Have you still got that prescription for antibiotics the doctor wrote out for you?" she asks while getting to her feet. "Mmm. I think it's in the drawer of my desk." I reply without thinking. My head is starting to throb now and clear thought is becoming a thing of the past. *SHIT! Mulder you idiot* Just as Scully reaches for the handle on the drawer it hits me. "No! Scully. Wait." I wish my voice had just a bit more strength to it. A hoarse whisper just doesn't seem to cut it in the authority area. Damn it. Too late. She's pulled the drawer out. I drop my head into my hands. Maybe if I really play up this being sick thing she'll take pity on me. I let out a nice, drawn out, heartfelt groan and clasp my head in my hands. I take a little peek through my fingers to see if it's having the desired effect. Oh shit, she's got that 'calm before the storm' face on again. Only this time I think it'll be more like a hurricane. "Mulder. What the hell is this?" Oh oh. She's speaking quietly, her teeth clenched. That's it, I'm dead. Never mind being sick. "Huh?" I manage. Trying to sound as weak and pathetic as possibe. "What the hell are these medications in your drawer?" The decibals are up just a notch as she stands there waving three half full bottles of antibiotics in her hand. "Sc... Scully. I...I can explain." 'Patheticness' is no longer an act. I'm reduced to a stammering mess. For godsake this is my partner, a mere woman. I must be delirious. There's no other explanation for that thought. This is 5' 1" of pure dynamite and the explosion is headed in my direction. I have every right to be afraid. "I'm waiting Mulder." She replies menacingly, her foot tapping on the floor. I feel like the veritable rat in a trap. A deer, frozen in the headlights of on coming traffic. There's nowhere to hide. Scully fixes me with an icy glare. "Look, I started feeling better, and, and... Well, anyway, who ever thought of the idea of having to take medication one hour before you eat. How the hell am I supposed to know when I'm gonna eat, let alone remember to take medicine one hour before this momentous event!" It made sense to me, but Scully remained unmoved. "Mulder YOU heard what the doctor said when he gave you the prescription. YOU said you understood the directions." She was staring pointedly at me, daring me to even try and argue. I wrack my brains, trying to remember the day in the doctor's office and just what on earth I had said I'd understood. 3 Months earlier "Mulder, will you sit down!" I stop my pacing. I hate doctors. With the exception of Scully of course. They poke and prod you, and stick things in places that were never designed to have things put there. And they ask all those personal questions. Things they have no business knowing. Sighing in resignation I return to my seat. Doctors. They make all this money but it's too much trouble to put comfortable chairs in their waiting rooms. I prefer the way I usually visit them. At least on a gurney you get to lie down, and there's no waiting. Not that I'm aware of anyway. I shift again in the seat, trying to find a position that offers some sort of comfort. "OOMPH! Hey Scully what was that for?" I ask, rubbing my ribs. "Sit still Mulder. You're driving me nuts with your fidgeting and pacing." It's not like it was my idea to come here. Some doctor friend of Scully's opened up a new clinic near the bureau. Scully acted like it was the answer to our prayers. Medical facilities practically in our own backyard. The enormity of it all was lost on me. For two weeks I'd put up a good fight, trying to get rid of my sore throat simply by ignoring it and hoping it would go away. No such luck. Finally Scully convinced me convinced my to go and see a doctor, or should I say get him to see me? "Mr Mulder?" I look up to see a man in a white coat calling my name, a file clamped under his arm. I look at Scully but she is already on her feet and making her way towards the man, a wide grin plastered all over her face. "Rob!" Was that a squeal of delight I just heard from my partner? "Dana! Hey, long time no see." They grip hands and the file slips from under this Rob guy's arm and slides to the floor. Rob fails to notice this as he is gazing into Scully's eyes. If I wasn't sick before I certainly am now. I think I'm gonna puke all over his nice, new, shiny floor. I take a minute to check this guy over. Just what is it that has Scully so captivated, lighting that smile on her face? The one I thought she saved just for me. This guy is about my height, kind of gangly in a muscular sort of way. Brown eyes, or are they green? Maybe hazel. Full lips, a little pouty if you ask me, makes him look like a wuss. Nose is a bit on the large size to call him good looking. So what is it that has attracted Scully to him like metal to a magnet? "Hm-Hmmm." I clear my throat, trying to get some attention here. Scully recovers first. "Sorry Mulder," she says still smiling. "Rob Martin, I'd like you to meet my partner, Fox Mulder. Mulder, this is Rob Martin, we knew each other in Med school." "Partner?" Rob asks reaching out his hand to shake mine, but his eyes never leave Scully's face. "FBI partner. We work together." Work together. Well, I thought we were a little more than 'work together', but if that's how she wants to play this for the moment I'll go along with it.. for now. I shake his hand back, and nod my hello. Rob's attention is already back on Scully. I don't see myself striking up a close doctor/ patient relationship with this guy somehow. "So Fox, you're the patient are you?" Oh, his attention is back on me again. "Just call me Mulder." I offer tersely. "And yes I'm the patient." Dr Martin picks my file up off the floor and ushers us into his exam room. He and Scully continue their conversation, catching up on old times, flinging 'whatever happened to so and so's' back and forth at one another. I'm beginning to feel like a fifth wheel here, as a little pang of irritation gnaws at my stomach. Finally, the party dies down and Martin remembers why we are all gathered here today. "Okay Mulder, let's start with some history. See if you're good for business." Rob chuckles to himself. Ha,ha. A regular comedian. "What's your general health like? Do you get sick often?" I think about this. "No, not really" A harsh sound errupts from the general direction of my partner. Martin and I both turn, startled by her outburst. She looks like she is choking, what the hell is the problem? "Mulder. You have got to be kidding! You have a medical file the size of the Empire State building." Two comedians, must be contagious. "Scully." I even surprise myself at how cool, calm and collected I sound. "Those are injuries, not illnesses" I inform her. "They don't count." "Ha. What about the pneumonia last November?" She asks. Scully, Scully. "Brought on by broken ribs." "Okaaaay. Stomach bug in December.?" "I was poisoned." My confidence is building. "Blood poisoning in..." "Scully! A cow fell on me. That definitely doesn't count." Scully must have realised that this little scene was being played out before the 'irresistable' Doctor Martin because she abruptly ceases her part in the act and looks demurely down at her clasped hands resting in her lap. Is that a red flush I can see creeping across her cheeks? She's embarrassed! "Rob, Mulder get's more than his fair share of injuries. I'm afraid it goes with the job." She offers by way of explanation. Rob smiles at her again, " I understand Dana. I'm sure it must get quite dangerous at times." Now I AM feeling sick and before I can control it, a groan is out. "Mulder are you okay?" Scully has instantly forgotten about Dr. Rob and is back to giving me her full attention. No Scully I'm not okay, but not for the reasons you think. "I've got a headache." I reach up and start to massage my temples. I'm not about to tell her it's her, and Dr Hollywood here making me ill. "I'm sorry Mulder. I got so caught up with old times and seeing Rob again that I forgot the real reason we are here. Rob, would you check him out and then I'll take him home to bed." I'm not sure Scully realises the implication of what she just said. It was not, however, lost on Dr Martin. I saw the same expression of irritation flash across his face that I'd managed to suppress. I guess Rob Boy isn't as adept at hiding his feelings as I am. So we get on with the examination. Dr Martin poking and prodding and asking all sorts of personal questions. I have a feeling he wasn't giving me his best bed side manner but heck, I wasn't coming back here again anyway. And I'm sure he knew it. The final diagnosis. Tonsilitis. "Isn't that a kids disease?" I ask. "It's more common in children but adults are not immune to it. It's usually a sign that you're run down. Tonsils tend to be the first line of defense when the body is fighting off an infection." Martin continues on in his doctor waffle, but I tune out. Scully can tell me anything relevent I need to know. "....so it's very important you follow the instructions. Anything you don't understand?" Silence. Shit, I suddenly realise he's finished speaking and is expecting an answer from me. Both sets of eyes are boring into me, waiting. "Follow the instructions. Yeah, no problem." I give them my most endearing smile. The one I had practiced for hours in front of the mirror just in case I should need it to get myself out of trouble with my parents. I didn't really have to use it much, my parents never took enough notice of me for me to be in trouble. It sure comes in handy with Scully though. Present time. "I'm waiting Mulder." Tap, tap, tap. The foot is keeping rhythm to the pounding in my head, which seems to be escalating with each passing second. "Scully I tried, I really did. You know me and food. I just don't know when I'm going to eat. Sometimes I'd remember to take them, only to discover I'd left the bottle at home or in my desk. I started feeling better so I figured they'd done their job, why bother finishing them all?" Was that whining really coming from me? Scully sighs and drops her head to her chest. Was she readying herself to cut loose on me or had I pissed her off so much this time that I'd left her speechless? Which ever way you look at it, things are not tipping in my favour. I sit here waiting for the onslaught and hold my breath as I watch Scully breathe deeply, lift her head and open her mouth to speak. The phone rings! Pencils, papers, empty coffee cups go flying across the room in my haste to pick up the receiver. "Mulder." I gasp into the mouthpiece surreptiously turning away from Scully and hiding my face with my left hand. "Agent Mulder." Skinner. Automatic reaction kicks in and I sit up straighter in my chair. I catch a glimpse of Scully out of the corner of my eye and notice she's no longer leaning against her desk and her arms are by her side. She has read my body language and knows instinctively who I am speaking with. "Sir?" My voice is still coming out in that hoarse whisper, but I know better now. Trying to clear my throat only results in pain, not clarity. "Agent Mulder are you all right?" Skinner asks and I'm almost lulled into believing I hear concern in his voice. "I'm fine sir, is there a problem?" I answer his question with one of my own. A very useful way of avoiding those difficult topics of conversation. "I want you and Agent Scully to report to my office immediately. Something urgent's come to my attention, I need to speak with you." Quick and to the point, the dial tone is droning in my ear before I have time to reply." "Skinner?" Scully nods towards the phone. "Yeah. He wants to see us, now." I push my chair back and brace my hands on the top of my desk. I intend to rise slowly this time, not wanting a repeat performance of my drunken sailor act. I make it all the way up when the room starts to swim again. I'm ready for it this time and let my chin rest on my chest and close my eyes waiting for the world to right itself. Deep breaths, I remind myself and eventually everything fits back into place. I lift my head and find myself staring at Scully. She has that cute little frown on her face, the one that knits her eyebrows together when she's really worried about something. She takes a long hard look at my face then reaches up and does that thing with her hand again. Resting it on my brow then slowly dragging her hand in a gentle caress down the side of my face. That one little action tells me so much. No one has ever cared for me the way Scully does. In my weakened state my emotions are lurking very close to the surface and I quickly close my eyes before she's able to see just how she's affecting me. "Mulder you should be home in bed." Gone are all traces of the anger that was brewing before. She might get mad at me but when I need her she's always there. "Skinner wants to see us Scully. I can't just go slinking off to bed. I need to at least see what he's got." I know this isn't what she wants to hear so I flash her my well practiced grin and stand all the way up just to add some weight to my argument. She'll be annoyed at me, but it should only rate about a 3 or 4 on the Scully richter scale of being pissed. Compared to the 8 or 9 I was receiving before, this is a piece of cake. Her shoulders slump and she squeezes my arm. "Come on Mulder, lets get this over and done with." Yeah, piece of cake. ******************** Wednesday, Jul 7th 7:25am Office: AD Skinner One look at Skinner's face and I'm wondering if I've just traded one ass kicking for another. His expression is nothing short of grim. I am expecting to hear the sound of teeth grinding any minute as I watch the little muscle in his jaw contract and jump, seemingly of it's own accord. I spare a quick look for Scully, one that she returns to me with some confusion attached. "Take a seat Agent Mulder, Agent Scully." The tone is as grim as the expression. I start playing back every thing I have done in the past week that might have brought Skinner to this point. Nothing out of the ordinary comes to mind. "I have some disturbing news for you Agent Mulder. Something that may cause you some alarm." The last time he uttered those words to me was when my mother had her stroke. I feel a tingling sensation prickle it's way up my spine. Skinner continues to speak to me. It's becoming obvious that what he has to say is not easy. He draws a deep breath as though bracing himself for what he's about to tell me. "Agent Mulder I've had a call from a friend of your mother's. It appears that she is missing." I immediately feel the blood drain from my face and the little hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention. A shiver starts in my stomach and quickly spreads to the rest of my body. Can a person feel hot and cold at the same time? I grip the arms of the chair trying to disguise the trembling that I have no control over. All this because of two little words 'Mother' and 'missing' "It would seem that this friend, a Mrs Jessup, has been trying to reach you for the last 48 hours but has been unable to contact you . Early this morning a message came across my desk asking me to call her. The details are a bit sketchy. She told me your mother missed their weekly bridge game last Monday. This in itself..." Memories of my last encounter with my mother flick through my mind, like pictures on a movie screen. The hurt in her eyes when I'd accused her of being unfaithful to dad. The sting of her hand connecting with my jaw as I pushed her beyond the point of reason. Neither one of us had made a genuine effort to amend that situation. I'd called her on those occasions that a son was expected to call. Her birthday, Mother's Day, Christmas. But we had never really addressed what happened that day. It hung heavy between us, both too proud or afraid to bring it out in the open. Whatever Skinner is saying is lost on me as I rise to my feet and head to the door. One thing I do know about my mom is that she is a creature of habit and a woman with impeccable manners, she would not stand up a friend without a very good reason. "AGENT MULDER." Skinner's voice cuts through my thoughts. Judging by the tone, he must have been calling me more than once. I pause, my hand on the door knob. My mouth is dry and the ache in my throat is more than my illness. I don't turn, just wait to hear what he has to say. "Agent Mulder. Wait." I don't know which is worse. Skinner barking at me or Skinner injecting this paternal like quality into his voice. The bark I'm used to, the kindness is almost enough to unnerve me, so foriegn is it to my ears. "Agent Scully. I'm giving you and Agent Mulder whatever time you need to see if you can sort out what's going on. Report back to me when you have a clearer picture of the situation and if necessary full use of bureau resources will be made available to you." He pauses just for a second. " And Agent Mulder, I'm sorry. I hope this is a false alarm." I nod my appreciation, not trusting myself to speak. Out side Skinner's office I make a bee line for the elevator. My pace is brisk and I sense, rather than see my partner trying to keep up. I push the elevator button then brace my hands against the wall leaning into it as I wait. Scully eases up to my side, she's close but doesn't touch. I can feel her eyes on me. "Mulder I'm sure your mom's okay. By the time we fly up there she'll probably be home." I turn on her, my reactions fueled by fear and guilt. "Why Scully? Why would you even say that? With my family's track record why would I hope that things could suddenly turn out for the best?" She tries, but she's too slow to disguise the hurt that flashes in her eyes. I can't believe I just spoke to her like that. What is it with me and my over inflated ability to hurt the people I care about most? I close my eyes and the image of my mother's shocked face taunts me, only to be superimposed by Scully's hurt expression. I let my body fall back against the wall and blow out a long puff of air. I pinch the bridge of nose in an attempt to stave off the encroaching thud behind my eyes. Another deep breath before I muster up the courage to apoligize. The 'ding' of the elevator arriving is a temporary distraction. We enter in silence. When the doors close I take the opportunity to make my apology. My mouth opens but Scully is quicker than lightening. "Mulder I know you're upset. But what I said still stands. Let's not jump to any conclusions until we've had a chance to talk to this friend of hers and make some more enquiries." "Scully what makes you think this is anything but what it looks like? My mother is missing. After everything that's happened to my family in the past what possible basis could I have for thinking this will turn out okay?" I know I'm sounding melodramatic, and hopeless, and negative. But I also know that I'm better off facing reality now rather than kidding myself that it will be all right. Scully is looking at me again, studying me like a specimen under the microscope. "Maybe we should call ahead and get the local police to go and check things out. It's still going to be a couple of hours before we get there." "NO!" The vehemence in my voice surprises me, and it sure as hell surprises Scully. She staggers back a couple of steps before regaining her composure. I try again. "No Scully. No police. The Mulder family have aired enough dirty laundry since Samantha disappeared, I don't want to add anything more to the rumour mill. People have long memories and my mother has had to deal with enough of small town gossip over the years. She's already moved house once to distance herself from prying eyes and wagging tongues. On the slim chance that this is a false alarm, I don't want to put her through that again. No Scully, I'll handle this myself." She doesn't answer me. But then she doesn't need to. Her eyes tell me all I need to know: that she's there for me and will respect my judgement, for now anyway. Interstate 95. Connecticut 10:15am I really should show my appreciation to the 'Powers-that-be " that sent me Scully. After arriving at the airport, she organized the rental car while I watched on in mute silence. Within twenty minutes of landing she had the paperwork completed and the car keys in her hot little hand. Having only our over night bags with us as cabin luggage meant we were able to hit the road almost immediately. I usually endure air travel with the minimum of fuss. In fact I've had some of my best sleep on a plane. Today however is not usual. Today I have a knot in my stomach that is pulling tighter and tighter with each passing minute. Sleep kept herself a very safe distance from me in the air, and now in the comfort of the car I'm feeling an overwhelming tiredness wash over me. That, coupled with the pounding in my head and the fire in my throat are making me eternally grateful once again that Scully is my partner and had the forethought to insist on driving. I huddle down in the soft velour seat of the rental and lean my head against the cool glass of the window, close my eyes and try desperately to will the headache away. But it just won't budge. A constant thud, thud, thud, beats a tune behind my eyes. And just to nudge the discomfort factor up a little, I've suddenly become freezing cold. A violent shudder wracks my body, my teeth join in, chattering merrily away of their own accord. God I feel like shit. Cool fingers brush the back of my hand. "Hey? Are you okay?" Scully studying me again. I want so desperately to tell her the truth, to ask her to make it better, but a lie is what fills my mouth and rushes forth. "I'm fine Scully, really." I manage a tight smile, but it's just an excercise in muscular dexterity. There's no warmth there and I know she sees it. She squeezes my hand and gives my smile back to me, recognizing the lie for what it is but letting me get away with it anyway. This time. She turns back to concentrate on the driving. Mrs Mulder's residence 10:55am I must have dozed off, the feel of the car slowing down and coming to a stop wakens me. I wish I could say the sleep did some good, but if anything I think I feel worse. I scrub at my face with my hands, trying to push the cobwebs away. We are parked in front of my mother's. I take a minute to study the house, the verandah, the glass doors leading off from the living room where I made my escape back to Dr. Goldstein. The last time I saw my mom I was filled with resentment and the certainty that what I was accusing her of was the truth. I look at Scully, searching for the moral support I know she will give. I am not disappointed. Her eyes are my barometer, I gauge my actions on what they tell me. What I see right now is friend ship and dare I say love? What she is offering me is enough to arm me with the courage I need to leave the car and enter my mother's house. "Thanks." I whisper to her. Her expression is puzzled and she arches an eyebrow in enquiry. "For being here, for being my partner, and my friend." She smiles then, a real smile. "Come on partner, lets go inside." The house is quiet. Too quiet. It is a familiar stillness that represents the aftermath of some horrific crime. Is that what is waiting for me inside? Blood spattered walls, my mother's broken body lying abandoned on the floor? My shivering picks up its pace as I will my hand to take a firm hold of the door knob. I turn the handle but it is locked. Could she be home? I try knocking. Scully looks at me as we wait. Nothing. We walk along the verandah, peering in the windows. Everything looks as it should be. No sign of violence, of a struggle. No upturned furniture or broken ornaments. Just this disturbing, eerie stillness. "Let's take a look around back." Scully suggests. I take a deep, steadying breath, still afraid of what I might find. Nothing sinister greets us out back either. In fact it all appears so normal. The clothes line has sheets flapping in the cool breeze. I go and take a closer look, run my fingers along the edges of the cotton. There is only a hint of fragrance from the fabric softner my mother uses. A familiar smell that reminds me of warm summer days when she would hang the laundry on the line in the morning. The many times she had scolded Samantha and I for running in between the sheets, Samantha taking cover, giggling and squeeling as I squirt her with my water pistol. A time of long ago when for a brief few years we lived as a normal, happy family. I feel a tightness wrapping itself around my chest. A tangable pain as I mourn those days and the possibility that I will never see my mother again. "Mulder." Scully calls to me from the back door. I jump at the sound of her voice and swallow the lump in my throat. I join Scully on the porch and notice the door is ajar. Fear, apprehension and hope are all jostling for position of superiority on my emotional scale. In the end, I ignore them all, and instead, rely on my FBI training, hoping it will be enough to prepare me for what is inside. It feels wrong to just walk into my mother's house unannounced, and I call for her, to warn her. Just in case. Of course there is no answer and it is with a growing sense of unease that I finally push the door all the way open and step inside. I know I'm holding my breath as we enter the house, the relief I feel at not finding a body on the floor allows me to start breathing again. My relief is short lived as I scan the kitchen and take in the scene before me. It's as if my mother was plucked from her morning routine. A cup half filled with cold tea, the milk separated, stands next to a plate with a slice of toast on it. One bite missing. The previous nights dishes washed and left to dry in the rack beside the sink. "Let's take a look upstairs." Scully tugs on my sleeve and makes a move towards the door. I nod. What is there to say? Scully checks the rest of the upstairs while I head for my mother's bedroom. Once again I am surprised at how normal it all appears. Her bed is made and her clothes are laid neatly atop. Fresh, clean clothes. I move a little closer. Her shoes are on the floor. Everything prepared so she can take a shower and get dressed right after breakfast. Realisation hones in on me like a heat seeking missile. Wherever my mother is she is still in her night clothes. My calm facade falls abrubtly away and in it's place is panic. The little spark of hope I'd held onto- that this was a false alarm- is snuffed out and I am left with the certainty that my mother is the victim of foul play, whatever form that may be. With this knowledge comes the return of the tightness in my chest. A crushing pain wraps itself around me and I can feel the air being squeezed from my lungs. The feeling of suffocation over whelms me. God, I can't breathe. I have to get out of here. I run for the stairs and stumble in my haste, catching the bannister to stop my fall. I use it to launch myself forward and continue in a totally graceless fashion towards the front door. I grab the handle. Jiggling and pulling but the damn thing won't open. Fuck! It's locked. I'm gulping in what should be great lungfuls of air, but nothing is getting through. I continue to jiggle and fiddle with the lock. Finally, the door swings open and I lurch through. Panic pushes me forward, what the hell is wrong with me? Somewhere in the background I hear Scully calling my name. Right now there is only one thing that matters to me. Precious air. I hug my arms around my chest, the ache is becoming unbearable as my lungs try desperately to draw breath. I can feel my fingers begin to tingle, and my vision is a mass of little dots, shifting and stirring in and out of focus. My knees begin to buckle, the strenghth leaving them. All of a sudden I am propelled forward, then pushed down. I find myself sitting on the top step at the edge of the verandah and my arms are being unceremoniously yanked from my chest and forced up behind my head. The ringing in my ears starts to take on meaning. "Look at me Mulder." That was an order. I know that tone. I'd love to look at you Scully if my eyes could just pick you out of the blend of colours swimming before me. "Mulder, relax. You need to slow your breathing down, not puff and pant like some out of breath runner. Come on, take it easy." The words penetrate and I will my body to obey. At last the air is getting in. The spots are forming themselves into intelligent shapes. The ringing withdraws and I am left with Scully and the worst damn headache in the history of man. "Dammit Mulder. What the hell happened?" Scully steps back from me and I feel like a speciman again. "I don't know." All right I do know but the pain in my head renders me powerless to think straight. All I want to do is savour the oxygen that is now pumping through my body. I bury my head in my hands and squeeze, a desperate attempt to stop the pounding. I hear Scully sigh. A big, frustrated 'don't give me that shit' sigh. Another one follows, a little quieter than the first. I guess she's searching for the endless supply of patience she seems to need whenever she's in my company. Okay, so I owe her. It must have nearly given her a heart attack to watch me go hurtling down the stairs like that. I lift my head and capture her eyes. "My mom is out there Scully. She still has her night clothes on. I saw her day things laid out on the bed. She's not even dressed. Where the hell would she go in her nightgown? Something's happened, and who knows how long she'd been gone before Skinner was contacted." I can feel my breathing quicken again but this time I'm in control and make myself slow down. Scully sits beside me and rests her hand on my arm. She is looking at me, her expression is troubled. She opens her mouth to speak but hesitates. "What?" I ask. My voice is husky again and I realise the burning ache in my throat is back with a vengeance. "Maybe..." She stops again. What the hell is she trying to tell me? She draws a big breath and pushes on. "Mulder, it's possible that she's had another stroke. Maybe a smaller episode that's caused some disorientation. She may have gone for a walk and not been able to find her way home." "In her nightgown? There is no way she would go wandering around the neighborhood like that." "She may not know what she's doing." "And you think she wouldn't stand out, walking the streets dressed like that? That no-one would notice a woman roaming around undressed?" "It wouldn't be the first time. Elderly people have been known to go missing from nursing homes and relatives houses without being seen for days." "But this is my mother, Scully. She's in her own neighborhood where everyone knows her. Someone would notice." "Well what do you think has happened to her?" Scully asks almost wincing in anticipation of what she might hear. "I don't know. Yet. But I'm sure as hell gonna find out. Have you still got that piece of paper with Mrs Jessup's address on it?" I ask pushing myself to my feet. Oh shit, upright is not good. The world is tilting again and I grip the railing to keep my balance. Things settle back into place and the pounding in my head retreats to a dull thud. I'm under examination again. And before she can ask I tell her, "I'm fine, just stood up too quickly." Then proceed to make my way carefully down the steps. "Mulder go wait in the car. I'll finish up here." I give her a weak smile, a dismal expression of how grateful I am not to have to walk any further than the few feet to the car. Wednesday 7th July 11.36am Mrs Jessup's home is what some people might call quaint or full of character. To me it just looks run down and in desperate need of some attention. I wonder idly if she has any children and if so why they hadn't helped out with the repairs and upkeep of the house. A pang of guilt rocks me and I am rudely reminded of my own shortcomings in that area. How many times had I offered to come and help my mother with repairs around her house? The answer is quite simple. None. Her house is always immaculate inside and out. I've never concerned myself with how she manages to keep it that way. I can only assume she hires help to come and take care of the outside. I'm consumed with a sadness I'd hoped I would never have to feel again. It's not the same feeling I'd experienced when Samantha disappeared. That was fear. A fear that followed me through adolescence and later, into adulthood. A fear distorted by a child's memories, but ingrained in the mind of a man. Lurking, like a monster under the bed, revealing itself at night while I sleep and insinuating itself into my dreams. The sadness I feel now is different. It is born of despair, a constant ache in my heart. I feel as helpless now as I did when Scully went missing. Knowing the longer it takes to find her the less chance there is that she'll be found alive. I am pulled from my thoughts as the front door opens and there stands the tiniest little old lady I've ever seen. Even Scully looks tall next to her. She is Hollywood's dream granny. Hair not grey but white, eyes that dance and twinkle, full of mischief. So many laughter lines that I can only wonder what has amused her all her life. I find myself wondering what she and my mother could possibly have in common. The smell of baking wafts through the door and my stomach rumbles in protest as I realise I haven't eaten today. However, my throat screams louder and my stomach backs off. There was a time my mom liked to bake. She'd make batches of chocolate chip cookies. The same aroma would greet me when I came home from school. There'd be a plate piled high and a glass of milk waiting. Sam would be sitting at the table beaming. "Look what I made you, honey." And mom would push the plate of still warm cookies at me. Yes, there was a time when she was happy being a mom. I'm starting to feel like Scrooge on Christmas Eve. My past being dragged up and thrown in my face. Is it fate reminding me that I haven't always been the son I could have been? I was so consumed with my own sense of loss that I never really considered how my mother was feeling. I mourned the loss of a sibling, she lost a child. That may have been acceptable as a 12 year old but as an adult it's almost unforgivable. Like Scrooge, I hope that I will be given the chance to make things right. "Fox come in dear." Once again I am brought back to the present. Mrs Jessup opens the door a little wider and invites us in. I am a little taken aback by the familiarity in which she addresses me. I guess it shows on my face. "Teena has told me so much about you. She's very proud of you, but I'm sure you know that." Fate just keeps on rubbing salt into the wound. I go to answer but I find my voice is no longer husky but virtually non existant. I attempt to clear my throat, forgetting how painful that exercise had been earlier this morning. The thud in my head is still a constant irritation but now I notice a new ache in my ears working it's way down the side of my neck. "Fox are you all right dear? You're looking a little pale." I feel Scully's head snap around to give me an intense glare. Great. That's all I need. Under the microscope again. "I'm fine thanks." Maybe I'll just write up a little sign and hang it from my neck. 'Fox Mulder is fine!' "Come and sit down. Can I fix you something to drink?" Mrs Jessup leads us into the living room. Something cool and soothing on my raw throat sounds like a pretty good idea right now. "Iced tea please." I croak out and look at Scully. She says she'll have the same. I sink into the well worn, but comfortable couch and glance around the room. The outside may be run down but she keeps a nice home on the inside. The mantle piece is cluttered with photos of family portraits. Mrs Jessup, young adults and smiling children. I guess she does have a family. Maybe it's not neglect I see outside but a home that has been well lived in. Mrs Jessup returns with the drinks and after handing them out sits herself opposite Scully and me. She studies us intently, waiting I suppose, for the questions. I sip at my iced tea. Shit! Fuck! Swallowing is not a good idea. So much for the relief of something cool and soothing. I reach my hand to my throat. I'd kill for some tylenol but the thought of having to swallow them causes me to loose some of the enthusiasm for that idea. "Mrs Jessup..." I begin, but my voice is nothing more than a pitiful whisper. I turn to Scully, slightly embarrassed. She doesn't miss a beat, just picks up where I left off. I'm happy to let her handle it. This talking business is way over rated. I settle back in the cushions and listen to the questioning. "Mrs Jessup, I understand Mrs Mulder was due to join you for a game of bridge. When had you planned to get together?" "The girls and I meet every Monday at 11 o'clock sharp. We bring a covered dish, play bridge and have lunch together. It's been as regular as clockwork for the past 8 months." She turns to face me. "Your mom has never missed a game in all that time." Well that cheers me up no end. "Do you have any recollection of Mrs Mulder saying she wouldn't be there this time?" Scully again. "No dear. I'd been speaking with Teena the day before. She said she'd been trying out a new recipe and wanted to test it on us. We had a bit of a chuckle over that. No. I would definitely remember if she'd said she wouldn't be coming." "What about any of the other ladies. Might she have told them of any plans she had?" "We were all here on Monday. Tina was the only one missing and no one knew where she was. I tried calling her but there was no answer. I continued to call her on and off all day and into the next. When I still got no answer, I decided to call you at the FBI." Mrs Jessup nodded in my direction. "I had no luck there either. I remembered your mom taking off once when you'd been injured at work. I thought maybe that's what had happened this time." Scully glanced at me then continued with the questioning. "What did you do when you couldn't reach Agent Mulder?" "Eventually the switchboard took a message and said they'd pass it on." So that's how Skinner ended up with the news. Seems pretty straight forward. "Did Mrs Mulder seem upset or distracted in any way?" "Not at all. Like I said, we'd been chatting the day before." "Was she unwell, had she been sick recently?" "Not since the time she had the stroke. She doesn't talk about that much, I guess she want's to put it behind her. I don't recall her having a sick day at all since then." I've often wondered about that myself. She seemed to suffer no ill effects after the stroke. She did complain about her memory not being what it was, but other than that she seemed fine. Scully catches my eye, silently asking if there was anything else. I give my head a quick shake. Other than establishing a time frame for her disappearance, I don't think there is a lot more to be gained. "Thank you Mrs Jessup. You've been very helpful." Scully pulls out a card and hands it to her. "If you think of anything else you can reach either Agent Mulder or myself on those numbers." "I hope you find her Agent Scully. She's been a good friend to me these last few months. And Fox, she loves you very much you know. She talks about you all the time." More salt to the wound. I'm seeing a side to my mom that I didn't even know existed. I guess I never really thought about her having friends, and it certainly never occurred to me that I would be the subject of her conversations with them. Scully gets up but I'm slow to move. My body seems to be set on rebellion, tired muscles protesting the act of moving. Reluctantly I push myself to my feet. For just a second I feel light headed and shut my eyes, waiting for the sensation to pass. Scully is at the front door and doesn't notice, Mrs Jessup, however is eyeing me warily. I give her what I hope is a reassuring smile and offer my thanks. As we walk to the car Scully asks, "What now?" "Quonochontaug." She stops in her tracks, looking me up and down. "Why?" "A hunch." I reply, wearily. "Go on." "Think about it Scully. It's the only other familiar place she might go . Dad's place has been sold. Even if she had gone there I'm pretty sure someone would have reported an elderly lady wearing a nightie arriving on their doorstep." I pause for breath, I hate being sick. "The summer house is still vacant. She could be there and no one would be any the wiser. But God knows how she would have got there unnoticed." My voice fizzles out to a whisper. Scully steps a little closer, I feel as if I'm under examination again. She doesn't bother asking me if I'm okay. I guess the standard 'I'm fine' isn't cutting it anymore. Instead she reaches up and lays her hand on my forehead. It takes every ounce of will power I have not to lean into it and confess all my woes to her. "My God Mulder you're burning up! I'm taking you to a doctor before we go anywhere." "NO!" Back to the loud whisper, it really doesn't have the desired effect. "Mulder you are not a little warm here. You are hot, really hot." "Why thanks Scully. I think you're pretty hot too." I say lightly. Anything for a diversion. "Don't try and change the subject. I'm not buying it. You are sick. You need to see a doctor." "Hey Scully, what a coincidence. I'm looking at a doctor right now." I grin at her, or is it a grimace? She doesn't budge. Not even a twitch. Boy she is pissed. I try to explain. "Look, I've been living with this off and on for the last three months. I'm sure I can last another few hours. My mom is out there, lost, sick, hurt I don't know which but I do know that I am not wasting time going to a doctor for a sore throat. I'm just not doing it. Now are you gonna help me or not?" Okay it was dirty pool but I meant it. I am not prepared to waste anymore time. The doctor will only write me up another prescription for antibiotics. In fact I've probably got an old bottle in my over night bag. I'll take some later and that way I can please Scully and get on with what needs to be done. She is still standing there. I can almost see the wheels turning in her head. "Please Scully? Don't make me beg." Isn't that what I just did? "Okay. Quonochontaug. But then I'm taking you to a medical center, no arguments!. You are not going to be any help to your mother if you collapse." She turns to the car and opens the trunk. Now what is she doing? A few seconds later she is pressing three tylonol into my hand. They look so tempting but the agony in my throat has reached new heights. She may as well have just handed me three baseballs to swallow. I pocket them instead. "Mulder! Take them." "Can't Scully. Hurts too much to swallow." I confess rather sheepishly. "Damn it." She thinks for a moment. "We'll stop at a drug store and get some soluble aspirin." "Sure Scully. After Quonochontaug. Now let's go." She snorts her disapproval but I take that as acceptance and move to the driver's seat. "Uh uh Mulder. I'm driving." And she dangles the keys under my nose. Not a problem. I can give her that much, in fact I'll gladly give her that much. The way I feel at the moment I'm quite happy to take the passenger seat. **************************************************************** Quonochontaug 3.15pm ************ The drive to the summer house was uneventful. Mainly because I slept most of the way. Oh, there was that one stop at the drug store. I took the soluble aspirin but all it seemed to do was unsettle my stomach. As we make our way along the driveway, I can see the house up in the distance. It is hiding in the shadow of overgrown trees and bushes. It looks abandoned, no sign of recent human life. The car pulls up and I struggle out of the seat, my body stiff after the drive. I hang on to the car door, just steadying myself, mentally preparing for what I might find, then push off towards the house. One step I manage and that's all. It's not a grey mist slowly rolling across my vision, but a full blown bout of dizziness, with a little nausea thrown in just to keep me on my toes. Only right now the only thing I'm going to be on is my knees. I drop to one of them, closely followed by the other and before I know it I'm on all fours, my eyes shut against the spinning in my head. I can feel myself gulping down deep lungfuls of air. Anything to keep from tossing my cookies here. I've eaten nothing all day and I just know the only thing I'm going to start hurling is my insides. Oh shit. That thought is just enough to get me started. The retching begins. Heave, heave. Deep breath. Spit. Heave. Spit. Heave. Spit, spit. Panting, dizziness and a god awful taste in my mouth. Spit, spit. My arms are trembling with the effort of supporting me. Just when I think they are going to give way and my first taste of food for the day will be be dirt, I feel support under my arms. "Mulder move over here. Come on, sit by the car for a minute." With Scully's help I twist myself around and crawl like some over grown crab towards the rental. I shift myself back against the side of the car and draw my legs up to my chest, resting my arms and head on my knees, waiting for my stomach to settle. "You okay?" Scully's voice is close to my ear, she must be crouching beside me. Then I feel her hand on my arm. I flinch. Please don't touch me Scully, if anyone touches me I know I'll lose it again. The last time I felt this fragile was after a big night on the town back in college. I had the worst hangover and nothing has matched it since. Until now. "Mulder?" I'd like to answer her but I'm afraid if I open my mouth my stomach will take it as an open invitation to try exiting again. I lift my head to look at her instead. At least I think its her. There's red and pink and red all mixed in together. Then suddenly she's in focus. Oh shit. I think I liked it better the other way. She looks really, really pissed. "Okay Mulder enough of the bullshit. We're going to the hospital." None of the niceties we usually dance around, she cuts straight to the chase. I shake my head. Big mistake. She swims again. More gulping and she's back in focus. "No." I'm quite proud of myself. I open my mouth and all that comes out is a word. Scully stands, crosses her arms and turns her back on me. I can make out her shoulders rising and falling. She does the deep breathing thing then turns back to face me. Her expression is softer, her tone gentle. "Mulder if you won't listen to me as a friend then at least respect my advice as a doctor. You. Are. Sick. Your temperature is sky high. You are experiencing dizziness and as far as I know you have had nothing to eat or drink since last night. At the very least you are on the verge of dehydration. Apart from your weakened physical state you are also under a lot of stress. Please. Go to the hospital, get something for your throat so you can at least have something to drink." She pauses for breath, which doesn't surprise me after that little spiel. She squats down beside me and takes hold of my hand. "You are not going to help your mom by running yourself into the ground." "Okay Scully, you win." She cocks her head to the side, immediately suspicious that I didn't argue. Sorry Scully, that bit's coming now. "After we check the house. I'm not coming all the way out here without looking first." It sounded fair to me. She gives me a little smile, looks down at her hand resting on mine and shakes her head. "Mulder, you are your own worst enemy. Come on, before I change my mind." She helps me up and I absolutely will my body not to sway or give Scully any excuse to turn back. ***************************** It seems quite clear to me that no-one has been here for a very long time. The grass is long, the garden over run by weeds. Spider webs have sprung up like new suburbs under the eaves. Scully stays close to me as we circle the outside of the house. I guess she doesn't trust me on my own after my little episode earlier. I'm not inclined to argue right now, just glad that she's humoring me this far. The search inside proves just as fruitless as the outside. The furniture still hides under dust covers. The smell is musty and damp. Everything appears to be in place, no sign of recent activity or visitors. I don't know whether to rejoice or mourn. If she's not here then I really don't know where else to look. I walk around the bedroom. Open the cupboards, just in case. My eye catches the holes in the wall. A blatent reminder of my misguided judgement. One or two spent cartridges still lay on the ground. I exit the room quickly. I'm tired of the memories reminding me of my foolishness, my short comings. Suddenly I am in need of some air. Scully follows me out. "Mulder." She pauses, licking her top lip before continuing. "It's time to get some help. You can't do this on your own. I think it's clear that your mom is in trouble. This is not a false alarm and we need to find her soon. Even if it's what I thought and she has had some sort of neurological event she will need medical help. I'd like to bring the police in." By now I'm past arguing. What she says makes sense but I can't shake the feeling that if she was simply wandering around in her night clothes that some one would have seen her and reported it. She's been gone 3 days. If a missing person isn't found within the first forty-eight hours you can usually assume the worst. "Mulder?" I realise she's expecting an answer. "Sure, we'll go back to Greenwich and see the police there. I guess we better check in with Skinner too." "Medical Center first. I can call Skinner from there and he can organize some help from the local field office as well. Then we'll go to the police, in fact Skinner can probably start that ball rolling too." Okay Scully, whatever you say. Suddenly I'm feeling very drained. I guess the adrenaline that's been pushing me all day has run out. Without a definite plan to occupy my mind I become very aware of just how crappy I really do feel. I don't wanna talk any more. If I could just have a few minutes of shut eye I'm sure.... Then the world starts spinning on its axis. Only a whole lot faster than what I'm used to. My original destination, the car, is swimming in and out of focus. Oh shit. This time I'm in big trouble. THWACK! Pain sears through my shoulder and head as I realise I've become up close and personal with the ground. My mouth and nose are pressing into the dirt and my body is currently doing a great impression of a lump of lead. Nothing will move. Well, I wanted rest, I guess now would be a good time to get some. I close my eyes and give into the blackness... ************************************************* Blue. Red. Blue. Red. Thump. Thump. Thump. Yep, nice light show, but I'm getting very tired of my head thinking it has to join in with anything that shows the slightest bit of rhythm. The light show is blocked out and in it's place a face hovers above me. The mouth is moving so I guess it's trying to say something. Not now, can't you see I'm trying to sleep. Shit! I'm being lifted. LET ME GO! I make a vain attempt to struggle but before I get the chance I'm dumped down on something. I feel it creak under my weight. Hmmm, bit softer than where I was. Some other thing is shoved over my face. Hey buster, what the hell do you think you're doing? I try and get rid of it but my arms are stuck to my sides. I start to struggle and this time there must be an element of success because now I can hear voices. "Hey settle down buddy, we're trying to help you." The hell I will. "Mulder!" Scully? I frantically search for her, but my head won't turn and my eyes won't focus. "Mulder it's okay. You're in an ambulance." Ah there she is. Somewhat distorted but the hair, the voice. That's my Scully. I guess if she's here then it must be all right. Now, what did she say to me? "Relax Mulder. Let the medics take care of you." Relax...Relax. Yeah sounds like a good idea. G'night Scully. ************************************* Thump! Now what? I'm moving, but I'm lying down. What's happening? I kick my legs but they won't budge. My arms! Still stuck to my sides. "Scully!" I hear someone whisper Scully's name. Wonder who that was? I shout again. "Scully!" "I'm here Mulder." She holds my hand. I grip hers. Lights, voices. Bright lights. I shut my eyes. "Male caucasion. Thirty-nine years of age. Collapsed around 60 minutes ago, in an out of consciousness. Temp 103.7. BP ninety over sixty, pulse.....' Were those my statistics being rattled off so casually? A hospital! I'm in a damn hospital. The thing on my face is removed which I now realise is an oxygen mask. My eyelids are pried open and a beam of light penetrates straight through to my brain." I hear Scully's voice join the foray around me. "He's had a fever all day and been suffering bouts of dizziness. He was on antibiotics for tonsilitis but I don't think he's been taking them. He's been complaining of a sore throat and as far as I know he's had nothing to eat or drink since yesterday...." "Dana!" Scully stops in mid recital at the sound of her name. "Rob!" Rob? Rob! What the hell is he doing here? "Rob, what are you doing here?" Yeah, Rob, I am kinda curious about that myself. I try to turn my head to get a look at him but it is being held in place by someone and my mouth is yanked open. "Gyah wa-ah hee ha ing" "Sir, please, I'm trying to examine your throat. No talking." And I feel something pressing on my tongue. "Dana are you okay? I saw you come in with the paramedics." Ah hello, I'm the one on the gurney being pushed around by Generals in white coats. "Rob I'm fine. I'm here with Mulder. He collapsed..." The rest is lost as something cold is shoved into my ear. My head is rolled to the side and the ritual is repeated. The instrument is removed and I can hear the doctor telling the nurse something about ear inflamation, but I'm really trying to concentrate on Scully and Rob boy. "Yeh Dana, I'm just waiting for a buddy of mine. He's due to finish his shift any minute and we're going out for a bite to eat. Would you care to join us?" I miss Scully's reply. The degrees of feeling shitty just climbed up a few notches. My face is burning but the rest of me is freezing, I can feel my body start to shake and my teeth begin to chatter. There seems to be an increase in activity around me. Suddenly the shakes turn to tremors. One or two words float through.....one sticks in my mind,'convulsion', then sight and sound slip into oblivion. ************************* "Fox. Fox, wake up honey." I drag my eyelids up and cannot believe what I'm seeing. "Mom? Mom! You're here. Where have you been?" "It's okay Fox. I'm all right." She stops talking and chews on her bottom lip. She looks troubled. "I've got something to tell you." She averts her eyes from mine for just a second, then continues. "I know now is probably not the right time but you need to know where I've been, what I've been doing. I cannot live the lie any longer." "Mom, what are you talking about?" "Fox, I want you to listen carefully, I don't want you to get upset. What I have to tell you is for the best. For all concerned. You've taken too long Fox. Too long to act, to face up to the truth. If you'd been more honest with yourself it may not have come to this." "Mom, what are you saying?" "Dana came to see me a few months ago. She needed help. She's a lovely girl Fox and she deserves some happiness." I am totally confused. Scully, and my mother? "Fox, I've been helping with the arrangements. We thought it would be best not to tell you until it was all settled." "What arrangements?" "Dana. Rob. Come here please." Dana and......Rob? "Fox. Dana and Rob are getting married." Wooosh! A sucker punch to the gut couldn't have done a better of taking my breath away. "Mom? Scully?" Rob, you don't matter. "It's true Mulder. Your mom hasn't been missing. She's been helping me plan my wedding. I'm sorry you had to find out like this, but it's time for me to move on. I'm going into practice with Rob." She glances at the geek who in turn gazes adoringly back at Scully. MY SCULLY! Just give me one punch, that's all I need to wipe that sanctimonious look clean off his face. "No. Scully you can't..." She sighs and begins to pace the floor. "Mulder I'm tired of cutting up dead bodies. I want to work on live people. People who will appreciate my doctoring skills. I know Mulder, I know. You've given me a lot of opportunity to practice but you NEVER listen to me. You NEVER take my advice. Well, I've had enough." She halts the pacing and whirls around to face me. "I want to work with people who want to be helped, who need me." "I need you Scully." I croak pathetically. "No Mulder, you don't. You need the X files, you need your quest, but you don't need me. Rob needs me and that's where I'm going. I'm sorry Mulder, enough is enough." She turns to him. "Come on Rob honey, I think we should go. Bye Mulder, I hope you find what you're looking for" I watch Rob and Scully retreat, hand in hand. A voice by my ear catches my attention. Mom. "It's your own fault Fox. Dana has been there right under your nose and you've chosen to do nothing about it. Now, try and get some rest dear, you need to regain your strength." She kisses me on the cheek and leaves me alone. For a second I am too shocked to think, to react, then it hits me. Scully is leaving me! "NOOOOOOOO! MOM! SCULLEEEEE! NO! COME BACK! I'M SORRY! COME BACK!..." Shaking, continuous damn shaking. "Mulder. Wake up. Mulder!" Huh? Scully? God Scully! Her hand stroking my face. I grab it and hold on. Please don't leave me. "Ow, Mulder! Stop squeezing. You were dreaming. You're okay." A dream. Thank God. But that was no dream. That was a nightmare. "Where's Rob?" My voice is weak, but I have to know. "What?" She's looking at me like I've just grown another head. "Rob. Where is he?" A little more urgent this time. "I don't know. Probably eating dinner by now. Why, what's that got to do with anything?" "Nothing. Just wondering." Phew! It was a dream. I close my eyes and bask in the knowledge that Scully is still here. She hasn't left me. Until my mom's troubled face floats across my mind. "I have to go." I fling back the bed covers. Oh shit! There I am in all my glory, exposed for the whole world to see. I hate hospital gowns. Bed covers back in place and a nice little smirk on my partner's face. "Where are my clothes?" I ask, my voice gravelly even to my own ears. This time I push myself up and hold the bed covers in place. "Mulder wait." "No Scully. My mom, I've gotta find her." "Please, just hear me out." Her hand is on my arm. "You are sick Mulder. Very sick. Your little bout of tonsillitis has turned into a serious infection. They took a swab from your throat while you were unconcious. It looks like a strep infection. They're running some tests now. The results of one of them should be back any time soon." So I'm sick, big deal, it's not the first time. I start to get up again. "You need an operation. Your tonsils need to be removed. The doctor is scheduling you in for surgery first thing in the morning." "On whose say so?" "Mine. I discussed it with him earlier. There's an O.R. available at 7am and pending your signature on the consent form, you will be in it." "Well that settles it. I'm not signing anything" She sighs and looks down at her feet. She has her arms crossed and is chewing on her bottom lip. When she lifts her head I think I see tears in her eyes. Why? She pulls a chair close to the bed and sits down, taking hold of my hand. "Mulder, please. Your tonsils need to come out. I know it sounds trivial but you are very sick." She pauses and for a brief second her look becomes accusing. "If you'd taken the anitbiotics like you were supposed to it may never have come to this. You have been running this infection for close on 3 months. You are now in a high risk category for complications. If this is let go too much longer it can affect the heart muscle. Do you have any idea of the likelihood of you continuing as a field agent with a heart condition? Or even a desk job for that matter. You cannot take this lightly." She holds my gaze with her own. And I have to admit that I don't like the sound of what I'm hearing. "Mulder, do you trust me?" That gets my attention. She knows I trust her. She's the only one I trust. Then the image of her and Rob walking out hand in hand flashes up again. And that scares me a whole lot more than the heart thing. I slump back in my pillows and whisper, "You know I trust you Scully." "Then please, take my advice. You know I wouldn't ask you to do this if it wasn't necessary. I'll handle the investigation while you're getting well. I've already contacted the police. They have an APB out on your mom and Skinner's been in contact with the local field office. There's a forensics team at your mom's even as we speak." "What time is it?" "Eight- fifteen." That late? "How long have I been here?" "You were brought in around five-fifteen. Your temp spiked and you had a convulsion, you've been out just over a couple of hours." She looks worried again. "What hospital am I in?" "Roger Williams Medical Center. Providence." I give a little snort. How ironic. The same hospital my mom was transferred to after her stroke. "Okay Scully, lets say I go along with this surgery. How long will I be in for?" I see relief wash over her features as she senses I might be giving in. "Well..usually this procedure can be done without an over night stay but the doctor has indicated that he'd like to keep you in for a couple of days, given the severity of your infection and the dehydration. But even after the two days," she pauses and looks pointedly at me, "you will need to rest." Have I got that long? Has my mother got that long? "Mulder there's a good chance your mom will be found by then." So she saw the wheels turning in my head. "Where's the paper work?" She smiles. The tension literally drops from her face. Had I really been responsible for all that tension she was wearing? "The doctor will be in later to discuss things with you." She squeezes my arm and leaves the room. I guess she wants me to sign the consent form before I change my mind. ******************************** "Mr Mulder. I'm Dr Bickers. Your partner tells me you've agreed to have surgery. That's good to hear." He moves to the end of the bed and picks up my chart. He strokes his chin and frowns as he reads. "How are you feeling now?" "I don't know, better than this afternoon I guess. My throat hurts." No sign of Scully at the moment so it feels safe to confess my woes to this guy. "Good, good. Your vitals are looking a little better. You had us quiet worried you know." Now I know who he reminds me of. He's a dead ringer for Marcus Welby. With that kindly paternal face no wonder I'm feeling like confessing all. I better be on my guard or I might end up confessing myself into a week's stay. "Actually I'm feeling pretty good." "Ah that would be the analgesics and antibiotics we've got going. Plus the extra fluids that are pumping into you. Like I said you were in pretty bad shape when you first came in." "So, you want to take my tonsils out?" He chuckles, " A man who likes to get straight to the point. I like that. I believe Dr Scully has already explained a few things to you?" "She said I needed them out and I was running the risk of a heart problem if I didn't. I'm not sure she wasn't just trying to scare me into consenting." I whine at him. "Actually she was perfectly correct. The test we performed-Grams stain-came back with a positive result for streptoccal infection. Strep infections can go systemi, leading to the deterioration of the heart muscle." Hmmph. Chalk one up for Scully. "You're scheduled for surgery at 7am. So nothing to eat before then, but if I'm right I don't think you'll be feeling much like eating anyway." He smiles. Yep, you're right. Chalk one up for the doc too. "But don't worry Mr Mulder, the old adage about tonsillectomies and ice cream still rings true. You can eat as much of that as you like when we're done" Oh goody. "Now, get some rest and we'll see you bright and early in the morning." He leaves and I'm left alone wondering just what the hell I've got myself into. ****************************** Roger Williams Medical Center 6.20am ***************************** "Hey Sculeeeeeeee. What aryoooooo doing here?" I blink my eyes trying to focus on her face but it keeps moving in and out of view. "Mulder, do you know where you are?" "Scully, you're so funny sometimes. Of course I know where I am. Itsa..itsa.....I dunno Scully where am I?" "Mulder you're in a hospital." "Oh a hospital. Why Scully, is someone sick?" "Yes Mulder, you are. You are about to go into surgery to get your tonsils out." "No,no, no. I'm not sick. I'm F.I.N.EEE. I'm fine." Hospital. That Scully, she's a barrell of laughs. Now if I can just pin down her face I'll tell her that myself. "Sculleee? Whereya gone?" "I'm right here Mulder. I'm right here." Oh, now I can see her. She's talking to someone. "What the hell did you give him?" Oooh she sounds pissed. Who's she talking to? "The the usual pre op medication." Who was that? Ah, my friend. "Scully don't be angry. That lady's my friend. She made me feel reeeeeally good." She smiles at me and runs her fingers across my forehead. "It's okay, I'm not angry." "Hey Scully, I've got something to tell you and its very portent, oops, I mean IMportant." "Yes Mulder, I'm sure you have." "No, no really..... I just wanted to tell you...um..I just wanted to say...shit Scully, can't remember." What the hell did I want to tell her? Oh, I know. "Scully, I just re..mem..bered. I gotta tell you I love you!" Huh? Is that it? That doesn't sound right. I mean it's true, but did I want to tell her that? Hmm, must've. "I love you Scully." "Yeah Mulder, I love you too." ****************************************** Medical Center 8am The first thing I become aware of is...What is the first thing? There are so many uncomfortable, painful sensations jostling for attention that I'm not sure I can single one out. Okay, the first thing I become aware of is: pain. I think it starts in my throat and wanders between my head and my ears then back to my head again. Then there's the nausea, but that's on a par with the taste in my mouth. Those two are working hand in hand, perfect partners complimenting one another. The taste sets off the nausea, the nausea increases the bad taste. Don't ask me how, it just does. And then there's that distinctive hospital smell. It works it's way into my senses. A unique trigger to set off my gag reflex. It only takes one heave before I feel things happening around me. I'm being rolled onto my side, something hard and plasticky is shoved under my mouth. Somewhere off in the distance I hear a buzzer going off. Two more gags and something warm dribbles down my chin. The cover is jerked off me and my gown pushed up. My hip is being rubbed, it's cold. Then JAB! OW! Even in my dulled state I know what that is. I can hear voices too, but what they are saying is anyone's guess. A warm, tingly feeling spreads through my body and the heaves subside. ************************************* The next time I struggle back to the land of the living it's with a little more finesse. I am relieved to find no nausea. The fire in my throat lives on and the taste is still foul, but without my stomach churning, those things I can deal with. I clear my throat. Shit. I reach my hand up to touch but it seems to be dragging some kind of anchor with it. I think I'm gonna need eyesight. With a little more effort I force my eyes open. Not much to look at. A vast expanse of white. I roll my head to the left and look at my arm. IV needle, pinchy thing on my finger, and a blob of red resting on the plastic tubing. I jiggle my arm and the blob of red stirs, it lifts up and it's eyes lock on my face. Scully. She sees I'm awake and flashes me a smile. "Hey sleepy head. How are you feeling?" I grunt. But even that shoots pain up and down my throat and out my ears. I move my tongue around my mouth. No saliva, just the salty, metallic taste of blood. I guess Scully has sat through enough post op vigils with me to know the first thing I need on returning to conciousness is water. I am not disappointed. She spoons some ice chips into my mouth. I wait for them to melt and let the cool liquid slide down my throat. "Scu..." I start, but am pulled up short. Hurts. No talking. "Don't try and talk Mulder, it's only gonna hurt." No arguments here Scully. I point to my wrist. She strokes my hand and answers. "It's 10 after 12." Am or Pm? I slowly turn my head towards the window. Still light, pm. So its been 5 hours since I had surgery. I look at Scully again. I can't shake this niggling feeling that something happened before I went into the OR. Was it something I said? Something I did? Hmm. I'm sure it'll come to me. In the meantime I need to know about my mom. "Mmm." That was fairly painless. "Still no news Mulder. The forensic team finished up late last night. They still have a few tests to run but so far there's been nothing to indicate foul play." She pauses and captures my eyes with hers, her look is sad. "It's looking more like she left of her own accord." I close my eyes a minute. My imagination is still seeing my mom in a number of different scenerios. None of which give me reason to hope. She's in her nightie, and while it is summer, and the temperatures would not be classified as dangerous, she is an elderly woman. I see her lying in a ditch somewhere. Cold, frightened, confused. I know Scully told me a couple of days recovery time but I cannot just lie here and wait. Scully caresses my brow and tells me to get some rest. I guess she mistakes my contemplation for sleep. Sounds like an attractive idea, maybe I'll just do that. Thursday July 8th 2pm "Mr Mulder." "Hmmmm" I try to roll away from the firm but gentle grip on my arm. "Mr Mulder. Wake up. Doctor is here to see you." I reluctantly open my eyes and stare up into the angelic face of a young woman. I blink a couple of times and recognition seeps into my consciousness. Ah yes. Hospital. Tonsils. Pain. Scully. I turn my head but she's nowhere in sight. "Your friend had to leave. She told me to tell you she'd be back in a couple of hours. Let's see, that was at about 1.30, it's now 2pm." The nurse straightens up and steps aside to make way for the doctor. He does the usual doctorly thing and picks up my chart. His face tells me nothing then he looks up and smiles. "You're looking a little better than you did this morning Mr Mulder. Do you usually have an adverse reaction to anesthetic?" What is he talking about? I shrug, waiting on more information. "Yes, you came out of the anesthesia and tried to mess up my recovery room. I don't take too kindly to patients trying to undo my handiwork so soon after I've just finished. Now you know why we don't let you eat before surgery." Poor guy, he thinks he's telling me something new. Well, who am I to rain on his parade? I just look at him, hoping he's not expecting an answer. "All seems to be going to plan now though. Your temp's looking good, blood pressure almost back to normal." He places his fingers under my jaw and feels his way along my neck. "Hmmm, glands still up, but that's to be expected after a prolonged infection. How's the pain?" I think for a moment, and realise it's not too bad. "Okay." I whisper, and I'd like to keep it that way so don't expect me to contribute much more to this conversation. "Good, good." He scribbles something on the chart and continues speaking. "I'd like to keep the IV in for another day or two. You were quite dehydrated when you were brought in and till you feel more comfortable with swallowing this is the best way to keep your nutrients up. At the moment we've got antibiotics running through the line as well." He pats my leg and moves to the end of the bed. "Get some rest Mr Mulder, it's the best thing for you right now." Almost as an afterthought he turns to the nurse and says, "He can start on some ice cream tonight." Then to me, "We'll see how you go with that." One last smile and he leaves the room. The nurse makes a note, then fusses with the bed covers. She checks my IV line then takes her leave as well. So, that took up a good ten minutes, only one hour and 20 minutes till Scully gets back. Wonder where she went? Maybe she got some news. I think I'll take a little nap, make the time go quicker. Medical Center 6pm **************** Rattle. Clunk. Scrape. Voices. I open my eyes and come face to face with a silver UFO. It's hovering right in front of my eyes. I blink. It's still there. Then it starts to make sense. I've seen this before. They try and disguise it in all manner of ways and this is their last resort: hiding it in an outer covering of steel. But HAH! I'm experienced, I've seen this phenomena many times before and no matter how hard they try to camouflage it, I can always tell. This time it is a little different though. Instead of the usual steam rising off the outer covering, I see condensation. Then the doctor's words come floating back at me, 'he can start on some icecream tonight.' Cold hospital food. I sit up straighter and remove the lid. Oh Yuck!! There, lying right under my nose is the latest in mutant technology, being passed off as chocolate icecream. Hospital food, hot or cold, the outcome is still the same. "Mulder are you okay?" I snap my head around towards the voice. OW! Shit. No sudden movements. But I'm glad to see Scully sitting by my bed. "You're looking a little green around the gills. Do you feel alright?" Yes, but not if I've gotta look at this for much longer. I quickly replace the lid on the food insulator and push the tray to the end of the bed. "Not hungry eh?" Very perceptive Scully. I carefully shake my head. The pain free euphoria seems to have left me and now I'm starting to feel like shit again, despite the sleep and the pharmaceutical cocktail being pumped into me. Scully steps closer to my bed and rearranges the pillows under my head. She strokes my cheek, but avoids my eyes. "We found something Mulder." Alarm clenches at my stomach "What?" Ah! "Don't talk, just listen. If you try and talk and interrupt me I'm going to get the nurse to dope you up and we'll wait till tomorrow." She takes the sting out by smiling. I nod my understanding and run my thumb and index finger across my lips, indicating that I've just zipped them. I know she wouldn't really leave me hanging till tomorrow, she's not that cruel. She gives a little chuckle, "Good." "Now I don't want you making any giant leaps for mankind here. We're not sure exactly what we've found, there's still some tests to be done." She pauses. I wind my hand in a circular motion to hurry her on. "I sent the forensics team out to the summerhouse, in Quanachataug. I wasn't satisfied that we'd done a proper search when we were out there. You were in no condition to be thorough and I was pre occupied with your health." She stammers a bit and looks preoccupied. She breathes deeply and pushes on. "Anyway they found some traces of ash..." That cigarette smoking bastard, if he's so much as... I guess she reads my expression and cuts in..."No Mulder, not cigarette ash. Ash, ash. Like we found out in the forest. When those kids were disappearing..." She doesn't need to remind me. I'm hardly likely to forget our first case together. "What are.." "Ah! No talking Mulder. Just be quiet and let me explain." "I went back with the team so I could take another look around. I went a little further out than just the ground surrounding the house. I found a small clearing a couple of hundred yards along a path, leading to the beach." She pauses again. Come on Scully, you're killing me here. "Mulder it looked so much like that same clearing where we found Billy Miles. It was unnatural. The trees and bushes looked liked they'd been pushed back by some kind of force. And there was ash all over the ground, but no sign of fire." She ducks her head and pulls on her bottom lip with her teeth. A quick glance up at me and she seems to gather her strength. "I can't explain it but the Bureau is running tests." I signal for a pen and paper, if she's not gonna let me talk then she's damn well going to let me write. She grabs her notebook from her purse and hands it to me with a pen. It all makes no sense at all. My mother clearly disappeared from her home in Greenwich, where there was no sign of strange activity. I scribble a question, 'mom's house?' "I know, I thought the same thing. I came back to tell you that I'm going to head back to Greenwich tonight. If we missed this at the Summer house, then maybe we missed it at your mom's as well." More writing, 'I'm coming too.' "No! No Mulder, you're not. I debated with myself whether I should tell you. But I know if it was my mother missing I wouldn't want to be kept in the dark. I knew you needed to know." She sighs. "I know how badly you want to be out there Mulder, but not this time. Let me handle it. I promise to call with any news and keep you up to date. Please, you need to rest, to get better." She traces a pattern up and down my arm. Rest! Everyone telling me to rest. How the hell am I supposed to rest with this running through my mind. And that's when I realise what I need to do. I nod my head in acquiescence. Hoping she'll accept it. She smiles. "I'm leaving in a few minutes. I'll call first thing in the morning. By then I should have some more information for you. And I'm serious Mulder, get some rest." She leans down and kisses me on the forehead, her lips lingering for just a second longer than usual, then she's gone. I love you Scully. Huh? Where did that come from? Vague images of telling Scully I love her creep into my mind. Must have dreamt it. A few minutes later a hospital worker comes in to remove the tray of chocolate slush. Hot on her heels is a nurse with a very nasty looking needle aimed in my direction. I move to the side of the bed as she comes towards me. She smiles at me. The word 'sadist' comes to mind, then she changes direction and plunges it's contents into the IV. I let out a sigh of relief. She had me going for a minute. Then I'm wondering what the hell she just put in there. She seems to read my expression. Once I get out of here I'm really going to have to work on my poker face, the way everyone is reading me at the moment I'll never be able to hide another thought or emotion again. "Something to help you sleep Mr Mulder. Doctor's orders." Yeah, but which doctor? Doctor Bickers or my 'know me too damn well' partner, Dr Scully? No use arguing, I'm way out numbered at the moment. Think I'll take advantage of a good night's sleep. All that advice about rest, they don't know how right they are. I need my strength for what I have planned. I close my eyes and wait for the drug induced sleep to claim me. ************************ Roger Williams Medical Center Friday July 9th 6am ******************************* "Good morning Mr Mulder." "Huh?" Oh right I'm asleep. I guess I'm still caught up in a dream. I could have sworn that nurse just walked in smiling. I roll over and pull the covers up. "How are you feeling this morning?" No, not a dream. A genuinely happy nurse. This I gotta see. I pull myself around to get a better look. "It's a beautiful day outside. The sun is already shining and its only 6 o'clock. I love summertime, how about you Mr Mulder?" "Urgh." I grunt. "Like that is it? Well, not to worry, I'm sure you'll feel much better after a bath." Now that sounds like a good idea. It seems like forever since I had a decent shower. I like this hospital. Happy nurses, AND they let you up for a shower. I must tell Scully about this. I'm just about to thank the nurse when she whips the curtain around me and I am enclosed in a cage of blue. I wonder what she thinks she's doing? It all happens so fast. The nurse enters my curtained enclosure, dumps a bowl of water on the food tray then yanks the bed covers down around my ankles. Whoah! Before I have a chance to protest she's shoved my gown up around my navel. Hey! Get outta here! I grab for the bed covers. "Uh, uh, uh, Mr Mulder, it's time for your sponge bath." "No thanks..." "Now, no talking please. Not until doctor has been in to see you." And without warning she starts sponging and lathering. Doomed to yet another indignity. God, I hate hospitals and especially ones that employ happy nurses! **************************************************** 7am **** Finally, I am left in peace. The breakfast trays have been delivered and retrieved. No icecream this time, something else that resembled apple puree. It seems that this is their speciality, it was a whole lot better than that excuse for icecream they tried to dish up last night. I even managed a couple of mouth fuls before the squirmy feeling came back. So far everything tastes like blood, not really conducive to whetting the appetite. I've been informed that doctors' rounds begin at nine. So now would seem like a good time to put my plan into action. I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed. Hmm, still attached to the IV line, like some giant umbilical cord. I'm sure I can deal with that, but let's get rid of the clothespin thingy on my finger first. Now the IV. I peel back the dressing holding it in place and grit my teeth as I pull out the needle. Ah Shit! Blood spurting everywhere. Damn it. I grab the edge of the sheet and press down on the needle hole. Come on, come on, I haven't got all day. Eventually it eases off to a little trickle. I grab the used dressing and stick it over the hole, Not ideal, but it's gonna have to do for now. I figure my clothes can't be too far away so with all the attachments gone I set my sights on the closet and the bathroom. I push myself off the bed and onto my feet. Oooh, dots, lots of dots, dancing and performing right in front of my eyes. THWACK! I pick myself up off the floor, cursing the designer of hospital floors and their total lack of consideration for patients that manage to find themselves sprawled on it's unforgiving surface. I grip the bed rail for balance and wait for the encore of dots to take the hint and leave. After becoming well acquainted with the floor at least two more times I finally make it to the closet. I open the door and there are my clothes. Wallet and ID packed inside a plastic bag and tucked in between my shoes. No sign of my gun or cell phone. I guess Scully has them in safe keeping. I gather up my things and wobble to the bathroom. I must say my clothes are looking a little worse for wear. Come to think of it they doubled for PJ's the other night and there's a grimy patch down the side of my jacket and pants where I met the dirt. I manage to dress myself, only crashing into the basin at least a dozen times. After attending to my shoes and socks I stand and examine myself in the mirror. Not a pretty sight. I'm grateful for small mercies though as I study my freshly shaven jaw. But my face is pale and gaunt, the dark shadows under my eyes only accentuating the pallor. Not exactly 'pinup boy' for FBI recruitment. I manage to make it to the door without any more trips to the floor. I open it just a crack and sneak a quick look out into the hallway. There is only one occupant manning the nurses station to my right. To the left there is an exit sign suspended over a door leading to what I hope is the stairwell, my intended escape route. I casually step out of my room without looking back and head for the door. By the time I reach the bottom of the stairs I'm wheezing like a 'three pack a day' man. I pause and lean against the wall, trying to catch my breath. Sweat is streaming down my face and I can feel it tickling my back and chest. I get a little whiff of myself as new sweat mingles with old, the result is not pleasant. Not expecting their patients to race off down several flights of stairs, hospital staff don't tend to use deodorant after a sponge bath. It would seem that Nurse 'Pollyanna's' efforts have all been for nothing. I take a second longer, then brace myself against the door and give it a shove. Apparently they are not as heavy as they look and I burst through into the foyer, only to be greeted by the startled face of the desk clerk. Her surprise quickly turns to a glare as she takes in my appearance. I nod my apology and offer a smile then head for the sliding doors. Freedom! Well, almost. I just need to get off the hospital grounds and flag down a cab. I weave my way through the car park, working very hard at keeping the tremble out of my legs. I guess this isn't going to be as easy as I first thought. Maybe there's a good reason why people like Scully and Doctor Bickers insist on rest after surgery. I push that thought to the side and concentrate on getting to the main road. A few short minutes later I'm there, puffing and panting and shaking like I've got a bad case of the DT's. I just hope the ride I'm looking for doesn't end up being in a cop car. Ah, a bit of luck. I flag a cab on the other side of the road. He throws a U turn and pulls up at the curb. Before he can get a good look at me and doubt my viability as a fare, I jump in and flash my badge. "Whoah, is there a problem? I wasn't speeding you know. I got busted a couple of months ago and I swear I learnt my lesson." I hold up my hands and shake my head. Okay, now for my first real attempt at conversation. "No problem," I croak. "Take me to Quanochontaug." He looks at me through narrowed eyes. "Hey, you really a fed? You look more like you're wanted by the them, than work for them. Lemme see your badge again." He asks suspiciously. I flip the badge out and he studies it intently. Eyes roaming between the photo and my face. "You don't look so good, man." "Laryngitis." I whisper back. "Yeah, no shit? Must be bad, they don't usually shove you in hospital for that." He must have seen the shock on my face. He nods towards my wrist. "The bracelet'll give it away everytime." I follow his gaze and for the first time, realise I'm still wearing the name band on my wrist. Damn it! "Look, don't worry about it. Just get me to Quanochontaug." My voice is just about on it's last, feeble legs. I swallow and am surprised that my throat feels so lubricated. Now if I could just lose that blood taste. "You good for the fare?" Why couldn't I get one of those guys that just takes you to where you want to go, no questions asked? I sigh, pull out my wallet and slip the guy a fifty. He gives me an appreciative grin. "Quanochontaug it is!" He hits the gas pedal and we pull out into the traffic. I lean my head back and close my eyes. **************************** Quanachotaug Friday 9th Jul 8.20am ***************** I guess I dozed off. I open my eyes as we're driving through the little shopping strip down town and direct the driver the rest of the way to the Summer house. I pay the balance of the fare and grab the door handle. "You want me to wait?" The cabbie speaks to me and I jump, my mind already consumed with thoughts of the clearing and just what the hell is going on. I shake my head no. "Thanks." "Look, I ain't no Doc, but you look like you should be back in hospital. You sure you don't want me to wait?" he asks doubtfully. Is there no one on this planet that isn't concerned with my health? "No I'm...." I gag on the words as something unexpectantly runs down the back of my throat. Not exactly great endorsment for the 'I'm fine' line I was just about to hand him. I swallow it back and shake my head again. "No, I'll be just fine." Thought I'd dish it out anyway. And I exit the car before he can push any further. A few moments later I hear the wheels spin in the dirt and the car engine fade into the distance. I stand and stare at the house. Sadness enshrouds me as a smorgasbord of memories play through my mind. I shudder and shrug it off, turning to the more important issue of finding my mom. I know exactly where the path is that Scully was referring to and head off in that direction, my knees still weak and trembling. By the time I make it to the beach trail my chest is heaving and there's an uncomfortable thrum in my ears. I feel my body begin to sway and take a few staggering steps to a nearby tree, hugging it for support. I close my eyes and wait for the feeling to pass. Eventually the thrum is replaced by the sounds of nature and I dare to open my eyes and straighten up. I release one last puff of air then push away from the tree. I take careful, measured steps along the path breathing slow, even breaths in an attempt to keep the dizziness at bay. Finally, I see what I think is the clearing and veer off the path to the left. My first reaction is shock, close on it's heels is anger. Scully was right. This looks exactly like the clearing we found in the woods of Oregon, even down to the spiral pattern of leaves littering the ground. I venture further in, slowly circling the outer rim. The trees and bushes look like they've been mauled by a mini tornedo, their branches forced back and out as if fending off an attacker. I squat down to examine the ground, and there, scattered amongst and below the leaves is the sprinkling of ash that Scully described. Only there is no sign of fire. No burnt branches, no scorch marks, nothing. I scoop some on the end of my finger, rubbing it against my thumb. It is definately ash, but reduced to a very fine powder. I try and restrain myself from jumping to conclusions. My instincts speak of abduction. But why here? Why now, and why my mom? It is so obvious that she disappeared from her own house in Greenwich. But now I wonder. Then slowly the pieces start to fit together as my sluggish brain works through the puzzle. Maybe she did disappear from Greenwhich, but not by extra terrestial means. It's all beginning to make sense. This clearing, the ash, the force in which the trees have been bent. This is where she was returned. No wonder we didn't notice this the other day. It wasn't here. My heart starts thumping in my chest as the realization that my mom may be close by sinks in. The house. I've gotta get back to the house. I take off at a run, driven by desperation and fear. The path runs up hill back to the house and I haven't gone more that twenty yards when my knees give out and I pitch forward, measuring my length along the side of the trail. For a second the wind is knocked out of me and I slowly turn on my side and curl into a ball, my arms wrapped around my chest as I attempt to suck in some air. Eventually the gasps turn to breaths and I crawl to my hands and knees and wait for the strength to push myself up. Once upright I latch on to another tree, steadying myself before heading off again. I take up a slow jog, concentrating on placing one foot in front of the other. The path is windy, and mostly in shadow, the trees forming a natural canopy above my head. The sweat is running down my face and into my eyes. I wipe at it with my sleeve. I'm having enough trouble focusing in front of me without the salty sting of sweat adding to my troubles. Not far now. Sunlight is offering me a guiding light as it filters through the entrance of my bushy tunnel. I can feel my legs getting weaker, my breath echoing in my ears. Then suddenly something feels very wrong. I stagger one or two more steps along the path then stop. I can feel something thick and warm running down the back of my throat. I gag, but suppress the urge to vomit. This sets off a series of coughs, it feels as if my throat is being torn apart, shredded. I search my pockets for a handkerchief, still staggering towards the sunlight. Tears are streaming from eyes as the coughs continue to wrack my chest and tear at my thoat. My stomach lurches at the same time as my body and I hit the ground on all fours. Another heave from my stomach and a mouthful of warm, salty liquid dribbles out and lands in a pool at my hands. At first I don't recognise it for what it is. I swipe at my mouth with my hanky, it comes away smeared with blood. Oh shit. I'm in trouble, big time. It must be the built in survival instinct, ingrained, bred or born in us all. A fleeting moment of rationalism tugs at my brain. Get out in the open, it urges me, no one will find you here. I can see the exit but my body is rejecting all directions from my mind. It has it's own agenda and right now I don't think that includes moving. My arms give up their effort to support me and I slump to the side. I'm so tired. I make one last feeble effort to crawl towards the exit but my limbs are feeling heavy, numb, and very unco-operative. I lie there and wonder about my mom. Have I failed yet another member of my family? The good ol' Mulder knack of fucking everything up. And I wonder about Scully. How pissed is she going to be this time? I'm going to be in for some big time grovelling if I get trough this. The sounds around me are taking on an unearthly quality. My body starts to shiver, a deep cold penetrates right through to my bones, a contrast to the warm liquid that is bubbling through my chattering teeth. It's all becoming too difficult to concentrate now. I'm tired, so very tired. The sounds of birds chirping and cicadas singing retreat to some far away place to blend with the buzzing in my head. I blink my eyes to try and focus, but all I can see is a dark cloud descending across my vision. I'll just close my eyes.... just rest a minute...just........ ************* Quanochontaug. 9.14am ************* "Hey buddy, can you hear me?" A voice, then hands slap my face. "Come on buddy, wake up." I groan. More voices. "Says he's a fed. I saw his badge, but I gotta tell ya, he don't look a whole lot like his photo. Picked him up outside the hospital in Providence. Personally I don't think he shoulda been out of it. Says he'd had....." The voices fade away to a muffled murmur. I can feel hands on my body. Fingers against my neck, something wrapped around my upper arm, the inevitable oxygen mask shoved over my face. And all the time voices, murmuring back and forth above me. I ignore them and go back to sleep. ************************ A sudden bump jolts through my body, then I'm moving. A blur of lights whizzing past above me. Faces jerking in and out of sight. Voices. Loud voices, calling out words and numbers. They fade away. ************************* Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. I try to reach out and hit the snooze button but my arm won't move. I try again, it lifts a fraction then drops to the bed. What the hell's the matter with me? I try my legs, not much better. Now I'm worried. I try calling out, but calling out only makes me want to call out louder, scream actually. The pain that rips through my throat is enough to push me back under, to that nice comfortable place I was before the damn alarm woke me. ************************** "Mulder. Mulder, can you hear me?" I go to answer but stop suddenly. There's something I remember about talking. Ah yes, don't. I decide to try looking instead. Only this takes a momentous act of will. I strain with every muscle I have and force my eyelids up. "Mulder?" I blink. Scully. She's frowning. Then she smiles, a beautiful smile that lights up her whole face. A moment later it's gone, and her brows are pulled together in another frown. Wonder why? Then, she's gone, and so am I. **************************** "Huh!" I snap my eyes open. Where am I? I wait a second for the room to come into focus, then slowly roll my head to the side. Oh shit. Hospital. What have I done this time? I take stock of my situation. IV back in my arm, and this time there's a bag of blood attached. Uh-oh. Clothespin on my finger. Hmmm, didn't I get rid of those things not long ago, or was that just a dream? And last but not least I lift the sheets and gaze down. Uh, uh. Not a dream. That wasn't there before. Whatever I've done it must be serious. I lick my lips then continue the inspection across my teeth and around the inside of my mouth. Dry. More anesthetic? Is that why my mouth is in this state? My attention is drawn to the door as it swings tentatively open. Scully? A figure steps inside and moves cautiously to my bedside. Not Scully, mom. This must be serious if she's been called... MOM! Suddenly the events of the past few days come crashing in on me. The last traces of numbness leave my mind and I'm starting to feel very alert. "Hi honey, you're awake." Not exactly a question, more a statement. She steps a little closer and takes my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze and smiling down at me. A million questions race through my mind. "Fox, I've been so worried about you." Worried about me?! "M.." She cuts me off by placing a finger over my lips. "Shh honey, it's okay." She pauses and concentrates on the circles she's drawing on my arm with her other finger. "I've got something to tell you Fox." She confesses, her eyes resting on mine again. My heart rate climbs a notch. "I know now is probably not the right time, but you need to know where I've been, what I've been doing." THUMP, THUMP, THUMP. My heart beats painfully in my chest, surely she must see it, hear it. My head is pounding, my ears ringing. "Fox, I want you to listen carefully." My chest tightens and my breathing is reduced to harsh gasps. I can feel myself start to fade as my oxygen starved brain tries to cut and run. Somewhere off in the distance I see the door open again. Scully marches in, takes one look at my mom, then me, and strides purposefully towards my bed. My mom. Scully.......Rob? I look nervously at the door. "Mulder!" She darts an accusing glance at my mother. "What did you tell him?" "I want him to know the truth," my mom offers back defiantly. The harsh gasps become a constricted wheeze. "Mulder! Look at me. You have to relax. Everything's okay. Breathe with me. In.....Out.....In......Out........ I will myself to concentrate on her voice. She talks me through my panic and my breathing slows. Now if I can just get my heart to do the same. Scully looks intently at me, studying my face, one hand caressing my cheek. I can still feel the fear in my eyes. She sighs a deep puff of air and bows her head. She waits a second longer then turns to face my mom. I look from Scully to my mom, then over at the door, waiting. "He needs to know. You can't protect him by not telling him." My mother's voice, imploring. My eyes dart to the door again. Scully turns her attention back to me. Her shoulders slump in resignation. I look at her, then back to the door. "Mulder." Barely a whisper. Oh god, here it comes, she's going to tell me she's leaving me. I watch the door, my gaze never waivering. Scully snatches a quick look over her shoulder. "Mulder, what are you looking at." My eyes remain fixed on the door. She looks confused. "Mulder?" I attempt to answer. "Rob." I croak. The ringing in my ears dominates all other sounds, I can feel my eyes start to roll back in my head. "Oh god, Mulder I'm so sorry." Scully's voice cuts through the pain. "Sshh, no talking. It's okay." I can hear her, but my eyes are clamped shut as I go through my deep breathing exercises. After a minute or two the pain recedes to a bearable level and I risk opening my eyes. I see Scully reaching for the call button. "I'm going to get you something for the pain." I nod weakly. A nurse appears and I can hear Scully discussing pain meds and times. The nurse agrees and leaves for a few minutes, returning with a vial and syringe. She injects the contents of the vial into my IV line. "You should start feeling better real soon," she says smiling at me." My last thought before succumbing to the darkness: beware of nurses bearing smiles. ******************************* Roger Williams Medical Centre Saturday Jul 10th 7am ****************************** I return to awareness with a guarded, somewhat unwanted familiarity. The squeeky wheels of a gurney, muffled voices, the clank and clutter of items being placed on trays, and then the one familiar sound that warms my heart. The deep even breathing of my partner in sleep. I stretch languidly, surprised at how relaxed I feel, considering my where abouts. There's a tightness in my throat, a faint burning sensation and a dull throb along the side of my neck, encompassing my ears. But it's certainly not anything like the blinding agony I experienced during my last bout of consciousness. I wonder how long ago that was, how long I have been here this time? I have a vague recollection of my mom being in the room at some point. Was that merely a dream? I turn my head and get a better look at Scully. She's curled up in a lounge chair, head resting on bent elbow against the arm of the chair. She doesn't look uncomfortable but I imagine she'll be stiff when she tries to get up. I shift my gaze further around and spy a cup of water on the bedside counter. I move my tongue around my mouth and shudder at the taste. Water. Yep, definately the way to go. I push myself up and back against the bed head. My left arm has the IV needle attached and naturally that's the one closest to the counter. I twist over on my side, trying to work my right arm out and over to the water. My finger tips graze the edge of the cup and I wiggle them trying to coax the cup a little further towards me so I can get a grip. "Mulder!" Ah!. My tenuous hold on the cup slips and I send it tumbling to the floor. Scully and I both stare down at the pool of water spreading under the bed. Hmmmm. "What are you doing?" No way, there is no way on this planet that I am going to utter a word. I shrug. I mean, how hard is it to figure out what I was doing? "If you wanted a drink Mulder, why didn't you wake me?" I shrug again and look what I hope is suitably contrite. She scoops the cup off the floor and goes to the bathroom, returning with it refilled. She picks the plastic straw off the counter, sticks it in the cup and hands it to me. I take a tentative sip, hurts, but not agony and I am so thirsty that the relief outways the pain. "How are you feeling now Mulder?" Scully hovers close by, her face suspiciously impassive. I nod my head. "I take that to mean that you feel better. Good." Then all traces of impassiveness fall away and in it's place is a look I can only describe as thunderous. "What the hell did you think you were doing? Didn't I make it clear enough to you that you had to rest after surgery? Did I not speak in words you could understand?" Her speech is tight, controlled. I have a feeling she is just warming up. "Here I am in Greenwich, working with the forensics team, thinking my partner is SAFELY tucked up in a hospital bed, RECOVERING from a tonsillectomy." The tone raises just a touch. "And I'm thinking, 'poor Mulder, it must be killing him having to sit back while someone else handles the investigation, but finally he seems to have accepted the fact that REST is of the utmost importance to his RECOVERY!' HAH! What a fool I was. Assuming that you would do the right thing, the SENSIBLE thing." She pauses for breath, deep, labored breaths, glaring at me, challenging me. Good one Scully. You've got me right where you want me. A captive audience, forced to listen in silence while you give me the serve of a lifetime. I motion for a pen and paper. For a moment I think she is going to have a seizure. A red flush forms on her cheeks, a look of utter disbelief consumes her face. "No. Uh uh. You will just sit there and listen. There IS no argument for your case, no excuse for what you did. You KNEW what I was doing, that I was going to call you as soon as I'd found anything. I cannot believe you have such little regard for your own health and well being." She stops and snorts sharply. "What am I saying?" This she says more to herself than me. "Of course I know how little you care about yourself, How many other times have you done this Mulder?" A rhetorical question I presume. "Do you have any idea how close you came to dying? If you hadn't been so sloppy and left a mile of clues in your wake you would have bled to death out there." She circles her arm in a wide arc, indicating 'out there'. What clues? I thought I'd been pretty damn clever. "Do you know how you were found Mulder?" Oh yes Scully, it's all so very clear to me. "A cab driver. A cab driver that had the sense to go back and check on you. A rare find in this day and age, but some how, that dumb Mulder luck of yours got you a cab driver that didn't know how to mind his own business. HE found you. You owe that man your life Mulder." She is starting to wind down a bit, perhaps even she is not finding this one sided attack much fun anymore. I sink back into my pillows, wondering if the tirade is over. I had no idea how frustrating it could be, not being able to talk, to defend yourself. "We found your mother." An abrupt change of subject. So it wasn't a dream. I close my eyes and sigh in relief, she really is alive. When I open my eyes Scully has moved closer to my bed. The thunder is gone from her face, her expression is impassive again. If we keep moving in this direction maybe she'll even forgive me. She heaves yet another deep sigh. She looks like she has more to say but thinks better of it. I guess I'm not in for an apology anytime soon. I suppose when it's all said and done, I owe HER the apology. I wonder if she'd buy drugged delirium as a feasable excuse for stupidity? But that can wait, I want to know about my mom. "Mom?" I whisper. Leave the voice box out of the loop and I might just get through this. Scully snaps out of her reverie. Her expression sad. A little arrow of fear pierces me. "She was found by a local cop patrolling the area not far from her house. Just found her wandering the streets. She had no recollection of where she'd been or what she'd been doing" "She's fine Mulder." A hint of warmth reaches her eyes. "I'm at a loss to explain it but she really is fine. Neurological tests show no sign of brain damage from another stroke. No hyperthermia, in fact for a woman who has been missing for 5 days she is remarkably well." She pauses again. I can see by the look on her face that there is something else, something she's not comfortable telling me. I tap her arm and get her attention, my eyebrows raised in enquiry. "Theres more, something unusual in her blood work." Her thoughts seem to turn inward as she considers the findings. "No evidence of narcotics in her system or electrolyte abnormalities." She pauses again then rattles the next piece of information off in one breath. "There seemed to be a reduction in the lymphocyte population and evidence of the release of glucocorticoids." She stops, holding my gaze with her own, almost daring me to give her my theory. I frantically make a writing sign. After a second's hesitation she reaches for her purse and hands me the notebook and pen. 'Signs of prolonged weightlessness' I scribble, then dare her to challenge my argument. "I know what you're thinking Mulder, but that could be attributed to something else. Not everything unexplained points to aliens." Disappointment eclipses all the other feelings wrestling for attention. After everything that's happened to us, surely she is not going to deny the possibility outright. She must have understood the look on my face. "I'm not just dismissing it out of hand Mulder. There is the other evidence to consider too. The ash in the clearing at Quanochataug, the strange formation of the clearing itself. I KNOW what it looks like Mulder, I just don't know how we are going to PROVE what it looks like." She drops her head and stares at the ground before continuing. "In the long run Mulder, does it really matter? Isn't it enough to have your mom back? Safe and well." This time Scully, but what about next time? Will the Mulder family ever be free of the legacy left by my father? Am I destined to always have the conspiracy insinuating itself into my life, never knowing when it will happen, just that it will. 'Where is she?' I write. "She's in a room down the hall. She's been worried about you Mulder. She wants to see you. Would you like me to go and get her?" I nod. Of course I want to see her. Scully gives my arm a quick squeeze and leaves the room. I suppose I should be elated, relieved that mom is back, and safe. But it just seems like small comfort when no explaination is offered for why she disappeared in the first place. The door opens and my mom walks in, Scully close behind. She stays just long enough to see my mom safely into the room then shuffles back, "I'll be right outside if you need me." I wave my hand in thanks. My mother waltzes towards my bed, smiling. "Oh Fox, I've been so worried about you." Me too mom. "Fox, I need to tell you something very important. I couldn't tell the police or that nice partner of yours. I was told not to tell anyone. But I have to tell you, my darling boy." She cups both sides of my face in her hands. "I've seen Samantha." Tonsillitis is the least of my worries, If I stay in this hospital too much longer I'm going to go into cardiac arrest. She reads the shock on my face. "It's true Fox. I spoke to her. She's grown up into a beautiful young woman. And she remembers you, she asked after you. Everything is going to be okay Fox. They promised. She's coming home soon." My mother's face is lit up with a smile I haven't seen since my early childhood. I can feel something wet and warm trickling down my cheek. I wipe it away. Oh mom, if only it were true. "Your sister is safe Fox, she's doing good work, important work. But the time is coming for it all to end, for the truth to be revealed." She pulls me into a hug. "You've worked so hard to find the truth. Not much longer my beautiful boy, not much longer." I feel the lump in my throat growing. It's pushing it's way up, causing my bottom lip to tremble. Mom. So long since she's held me this way, used any term of endearment. I pull her close and hold on, I can feel my body trembling and the first sob escapes my lips. "Shh Fox, don't cry. It's all going to be fine, just fine. We're going to be a family again." She let's me go and I fall back into my pillows. I clamp down on my rising hope, fearful that my mother has suffered some kind of head trauma that has so far been undetected in the tests. Or maybe the shock of whatever happened to her has caused her to become delusional. But whatever is causing her to behave like this, think like this, do I have the right to doubt her? After all she's suffered, I so desperately want to believe that this is the truth. Even if it's not, in her own mind she believes she's seen Samantha, and isn't that what has been really driving me all these years? To find my sister and give her back to my mom. Everyday I play the scenerio through my mind: Arriving at my mom's house, Samantha at my side and handing her over, knowing that is the one thing that will make our family whole again, my redemption for losing her all those years ago. I look at my mom's face and see the peaceful rapture there. Maybe this belief is enough for her. Knowing is so much more desirable than not knowing. For now she believes that Samantha is safe and will be returned. I want to believe, but will it be enough for me, just believing and not seeing? I pull my mom into another embrace. She hugs me tight. "Everything is all right now Fox. I love you my darling boy." Maybe Scully was right. Maybe for now it can be enough to have my mom back safe and well. Perhaps this X file doesn't need tangible proof, maybe this time my mom is the only proof I need. The end. Feedback greatly appreciated For those of you that made it to the end- thanks!