Thanksgiving Dinner Author: Tigress35 Category:SA Spoilers: Demons Summary: Mulder gets food poisoning from Thanksgiving dinner, but it's not as simple as it may appear. Keywords: none Rating: PG probably Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, I'm not trying to make anyone mad, blah, blah, blah. We should make a list of all fanfic disclaimers, and you can eat your heart out. This is in response to the MTA's holiday challenge, so read away. Please email me, it's one of my first fanfics, and my first angsty one. Any scientific inaccuracies are my fault. Just ignore them, and pretend it's fine. Now on with the story: ************ F.B.I Headquarters, Washington D.C. X-Files Division Office 4:30 p.m. Mulder stretched lazily and grabbed his dark blue suit coat from the coat hanger in the office. "Bye, Scully. See you Monday." "Are you sure you don't want to come have Thanksgiving dinner with my family and me? You know you're always welcome." Mulder smiled. "I know. But I have plans this year." Scully gave him her famous Look. "Eating at Sizzler doesn't count, Mulder." "No, seriously, I do have real plans this time. My mother invited me over. We've been looking forward to spending some time." He swallowed. "Maybe work some things out." Scully nodded in agreement. She knew that they hadn't been getting along lately, especially not after Mulder confronted her that one day when he was having seizures. "Alright. I hope you have a good time then." "You, too." "Call me, though?" Mulder grinned. "At 2 in the morning, like always." ************* Mrs. Mulder's Residence Mulder scraped the last bits of pumpkin pie filling from his plate with his dessert fork. "Mmm, I always loved your pies, Mom. Are you sure you don't want to keep some for yourself?" "No, Fox, I'm still stuffed from the piece that I already ate." Mrs. Mulder turned to the sink and busied herself with the dishes. "You take it home and finish it. When was the last time you had a home-baked pie?" "Longer than I can remember." There was an uncomfortable silence. They had been almost skillfully avoiding pauses and stressful conversation. Finally, Mulder broke the quiet. "Mom, I want to know the truth. Why did you invite me here? We haven't done anything but small talk." Mrs. Mulder didn't answer. "Mom?" Mulder questioned again. Mrs. Mulder angrily threw down the dishtowel she was holding, and turned to glare at him. "I didn't know I needed a good excuse to see my son. Why couldn't I just want to see the only remaining family I have left on the holidays?" Mulder opened his mouth as if to protest, but then closed it again. "I'm sorry, Mom," he began tentatively. "I didn't mean it that way. I...I just meant that I hadn't been too civilized to you lately. I didn't think you'd want to see me. Mrs. Mulder didn't respond again, but continued to furiously scrub the turkey pan. Mulder went and sat in a chair, gazed at his hands, unsure of what to say next. "Fox," Mrs. Mulder began after awhile. "It's getting late, I'm a bit tired. Perhaps it's time you go home." Mulder rose awkwardly from the chair, and replied, "Okay, Mom. I'll see you later." It was an almost questioning tone. Mrs. Mulder fetched his coat from the hallway closet, and handed it to her son, along with the remaining pumpkin pie. "Be sure to give my regards to your partner." "I will," Mulder replied softly. "Good-bye." He turned and headedout the front door, looking at his mother one last time before she shut the door and turned out the porch light. Mulder merely stood there, engulfed in the darkness. Eventually, he headed to his car and began the long drive back to Alexandria. ***************** Mulder's Apartment 12:35 a.m. Mulder watched the last of the holiday marathon movies. But he was still not tired. Surprisingly, even after his big meal that night, he was craving some of that pie. And he'd already had his third slice of the night when he came home. Regardless of those facts, he unwrapped the last piece left, and popped it in the microwave for a few seconds, wishing he hadn't already eaten all his ice cream. Bringing it back to the couch, he flopped onto his couch to channel surf and eat the last of his pie. ***************** 2:30 a.m. Mulder awoke with a start from his dream. It hadn't been a bad dream, it was actually an odd dream, not terrifying for a change. Yet his tee- shirt was drenched in sweat, cold on his clammy skin after beginning to dry in the chilly night air. Mulder ran a hand through his hair, also soaked. He groaned slightly. He felt absolutely terrible. Crawling off the coach, he stumbled his way into the bathroom. Once there, he splashed some cool water onto his face, which felt like he'd been sitting right next to fire for hours. "Geez, Mulder. You don't look that good," he told his reflection in the mirror. Pulling a little paper cup from the dispenser hung on the wall, he filled it with water and drank it, refilling it several times before his thirst was quenched. Then managed to make his way back to the coach before he collapsed onto the sticky black leather. ******** The next thing Mulder knew was that he was definitely very sick. And that there was someone next to him. "Mulder?" A familiar voice questioned. He cautiously opened his eyes, but shut them quickly after a dim light shining from a lamp was too bright for his sensitive eyes. "Are you trying to blind me? Turn the damn light off," Mulder snapped irritably. "It's too bright? Mulder, there's only one light on, and that's from the kitchen. It's one of the few lightbulbs you don't need to change." "Well, turn it off anyway." Mulder winced as he suddenly realized he had a splitting headache in addition to other aches. "Scully, my head hurts," he whimpered. "It does? What else hurts?" Scully asked gently and concerned. "I don't know, everything. Why are you here anyway? I don't remember calling you." "You said you'd call me. When you didn't, I decided to see if you'd made it back safely. No one answered the phone, and then after ringing a few times, it went dead all of a sudden, so I came over here." "Oh, yeah. Sorry 'bout that, but I pulled the phone cord out. The ringing was going to make my eardrums explode." "Why didn't you answer it instead? You really worried me. And then I find you like this." She started to sit down on the coffee table in front of his couch, but first had to throw off dirty dishes with what looked like remnants of some pie. Mulder shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe 'cause I would have had to talk then." Scully sighed. "Well, it looks like you have something more than the flu, Mulder. I want you to go see a doctor. I don't know what's wrong; I don't recognize any of the symptoms you're having." "No," Mulder protested. "I can get better. All I need is some aspirin." "Mulder, you probably could use more than that. If you do go to the doctor, they can prescribe you some medicine." Mulder shook his head, but stopped when it felt like his brain was the ball in a ping-pong game. "No," he repeated. Scully narrowed her eyes. "You're going Mulder. No if's, and's or but's about it. I'll get Skinner to order you to. Maybe he can even carry you to the car. "No, Scully, don't." "Then you'll go?" Mulder pretended he hadn't heard and ignored her. "I'm serious, Mulder." Mulder opened one eye warily. "Fine," he mumbled. "But I can get to the car by myself." *********** 5 hours later... Scully gazed down at Mulder as he almost peacefully slept in the bed. Whatever Mulder had, no one had ever heard of it. His blood tests were far from normal, and they weren't certain what to do for treatment. Scully turned and was about to leave to speak with the doctor when she heard the sheets rustle. "Where am I?" Mulder asked groggily, just awakening from his long nap. "In a hospital. I brought you after I was pretty certain that you didn't have anything that anyone had diagnosed before." "Really. Thanks," Mulder replied disinterestedly. "Yes. Whatever's in your bloodstream appears to be similar to some sort of food poisoning. Wha-" She paused. "Mulder, are you listening to me? "Yeah," he answered after a few seconds when he finally realized that she was asking him a question, and was also expecting a response. "Mulder, you need to pay attention. This is important if we're going to find out what happened to you," Scully said. "Okay? Mulder?" Mulder nodded. "Alright. What was the last thing that you ate?" "The last thing I ate? Umm, dinner." "At your mom's?" "Yeah," Mulder said, closing his eyes. "I think I'm gonna to go back to sleep now." "No, Mulder, I know that you're tired, but we need to find out what's making you sick. What did you have at your mother's house?" "Food." Scully sighed, but remained patient. "What kind of food did you eat?" "Oh, you know, Thanksgiving food." "Be more specific." Mulder rubbed his eyes, becoming annoyed. "Turkey, mashed potatoes, bread, pie, stuff like that." "Anything else?" Mulder frowned, trying to remember through his excruciating headache. "No. Don't think so." "Were there any leftovers? Did you eat everything?" "Think was some left. Sleep now?" he said, incredibly drowsy. Scully reached over and squeezed his hand. "Yes, you can sleep now. What you've given me helps." Mulder didn't answer; he had already drifted back to dreamland. Scully got up from the chair she had been sitting on, and quickly strode out of the room. In the hallway, she nearly collided with the doctor. "Dr. Smith?" "Yes?" "I'm going to go over to Mulder's mother's house. His last meal was there, and I want to see if I can get a hold of any leftovers to test." "Ah, yes, good idea," Dr. Smith responded. "I'll make sure that I call you if his condition changes. We'll take good care of him." Dr. Smith smiled reassuringly at Scully. Scully nodded, and hurried down the corridor. ********** Mrs. Mulder's Residence Scully stepped onto the porch stairs, and knocked on the door. "Who is it?" Mrs. Mulder questioned from inside the house. "I'm Dana Scully; I work with your son. "Oh, yes, Dana. Of course. What's this about?" She asked as she opened the door and let her visitor inside. "Well, I'm sorry to say that Mulder is quite sick. We think he has some new strain of food poisoning. I was wondering if you were feeling ill at all?" "No, I'm fine," she replied surprisedly. "I don't think that he could have gotten food poisoning here. I always cook my food thoroughly, and keep the kitchen clean," Mrs. Mulder said defensively. Scully fought an urge to roll her eyes. "Yes, I'm sure you do. But these things do happen. You don't possibly have any leftover food that could be tested, do you? I would appreciate it. I'm sure it would help your son a great deal." "No, I'm sorry, but believe I threw it out this morning," she said, averting her eyes to the floor. "Is it still in the trash?" "The trash collector came this morning. I'm sorry, but I really can't help you." "Well, can you at least tell me what you cooked?" "Let's see, I prepared some turkey, fresh baked bread, creamy mashed potatoes. Oh, and my famous pumpkin pie, of course." "Is that all?" "Yes," she answered in an impatient tone. Scully sighed. Sometimes Mrs. Mulder was as bad as her son. "Alright, Mrs. Mulder. Thank you for your cooperation. If you do find something, please contact me. "Of course, Dana. I'll be sure to do that. Now, if you don't mind, I was just about to get ready to go out for lunch with some friends. Excuse me." She turned and it seemed as if she almost fled to her bedroom. Scully watched her ascend up the stairs. But deep down, Scully had a feeling that something wasn't right. Double checking that Mrs. Mulder was indeed upstairs, she snuck into the kitchen, and opened the freezer door. Quickly, she searched through icy packages and ziplock bags, looking for anything Mulder had described eating for dinner. But there was nothing. Carefully putting the food back where she found it, Scully left the house through the backdoor. She knew that there wasn't trash pick-up today, or yesterday for that matter. But a rummage through trash cans revealed nothing. Finally, Scully gave up. They would have to find another way. There had to be. *********** Scully quietly opened the door to Mulder's room. Mulder wasn't awake, but a nurse was there checking his vitals. "How's he doing?" Scully asked. "Well, he doesn't seem to be any worse, but he's certainly not better. We've sedated him since he's in so much pain when he's awake." Scully nodded. "Thanks. I'll watch him now." Scully looked over his test results again, hoping to think of something she might have missed, and also researched on her laptop. But everything she looked up and did met with a dead end. Suddenly she heard a small, croaky voice coming from the bed next to her chair that she was sitting in. "What're you doing?" Mulder struggled to lift his head a bit to peer over at her computer. "Oh, you're awake! How do you feel?" "That's a stupid question, Scully. Why do you always ask that when you very well know that I feel terrible." He rested his head back onto the pillow. "Sorry, Mulder, but it's a habit. Anyways, I went to your mother's house-" "What!" Mulder exclaimed. "Why'd you do that?" Scully looked at him strangely. *What was his problem?* "Mulder, what's wrong? I went to see if there was any leftover food there to test and see what's wrong with you, and if we could find a cure from it." "Oh." Scully was still determined to find out what was wrong. "What did you think I would have been doing?" Mulder turned his head slightly to look at her. "I was just a little surprised, that's all." He paused, then continued. "We kind of had a fight. It was my fault. Again." Scully gave the tiniest of smiles in sympathy. "I didn't know; she didn't say anything to me. I had no idea." Mulder gave a small, painful shrug. "It's okay." Just then, a nurse came in and injected him with more pain killers. A few moments later, Mulder yawned, nearly asleep once more, and mumbled, "But, well, actually there isn't any food left at my mother's house. I took it...," he faded off without completing his sentence. Scully's eyes widened. "You took it home?" But Mulder was already asleep. But that didn't matter. Scully grabbed her jacket and hurried to Mulder's apartment. **************** A cafe in D.C. The smoke rose into the air, twisting, gradually dissipating after a bit. "Did you put it in the pie like I instructed?" "Yes," Mrs. Mulder replied tightly. "I still can't believe you had me do that to my own son." "Ah, but I would have thought you might enjoy a bit of revenge. Especially after what you said he accused you of. But, then of course, it wouldn't have stung so much if it wasn't true, now would it?" Mrs. Mulder took a shaky sip of wine. "Even so, you still didn't tell me it would hurt him so much." "You never asked." "If I had known it would hurt him so much, I wouldn't have done it." "Perhaps that's precisely why we did not tell you the..er..extent of what the damages would be." She set down her glass. "Fox's partner came by today. She was asking me questions." "Really? Well, I don't think that will be a problem. You did get rid of leftovers, didn't you? There should be no evidence if you did everything correctly, exactly as you were told." He took out another cigarette, and lit it. "I did. But... I don't know, what if someone finds out? What if Fox finds out? What would I say to him?" "He won't find out. He shouldn't," he added as an afterthought. "And remember, you can always deny everything." **************** Mulder's Apartment Scully headed straight to Mulder's refrigerator. Again, she rifled through it's contents, some of which she should take in anyway to be tested for new life. She sighed. There wasn't any food that he had described there. Another dead end. She went over to his couch, exhausted. It had been a long day, and it was still far from over. Nearly tripping as she sat down, she silently cursed Mulder for his messy apartment. *Who knows, he could have gotten sick from his own home.* But then, she remembered last night: sitting down on the coffee table and clearing dishes from it before she could do so. "That's it!" Scully exclaimed out loud, even though no one was there to hear her. Her eyes scanned the floor for a moment before she located the small plate on the rug. Carefully, as if she were afraid that she might break it, so lifted the plate and held it close to her face for inspection. Definitely pie, most likely the "famous pumpkin pie" Mrs. Mulder mentioned. Pulling a plastic evidence bag from her purse, Scully slipped the plate inside and sealed the bag. Finally there was something to test for something, anything that might shed light on Mulder' mysterious illness. ************* Scully knocked on the door to Agent Pendrell's office before entering. "Pendrell?" Pendrell's eyes widened slightly at the surprise. "Oh, hi, Agent Scully. What brings you here?" he said a bit nervous at her sudden appearance. "I have something that I need you to analyze. Agent Mulder's life may depend on it." "Yes, of course!" Pendrell answered quickly. "I'll get on it right away." "Thanks." Scully restrained herself from shaking her head, and instead took out the bag with the plate. "What's that?" Pendrell questioned, taking the bag from Scully. "It looks like it's just a plate." "Yes, well, there is what I think may be pumpkin pie crumbs on it. That's what I need you to test." She started for the door. Pendrell nodded. "Alrighty then. Have a nice day, Agent Scully." Pendrell cringed inwardly at his parting words. Scully merely nodded and left his office. *************** Mrs. Mulder sat at her desk, fingers resting lightly on the keyboard, pondering her next words. ***** Ms. Scully, Attached to this is a map giving directions. I can only tell you that it will be worth your while. Please delete this after you receive it, for our own safety. Mrs. Mulder Scully quickly downloaded the GIF attached to the email she had just received. The map was at a zoo, by the lockers. *Why does everyone hide things in lockers?* she wondered. ********* Scully fingered the key carefully hidden deep in the pocket of her jeans. The map had described where to get the key, and then the locker. Cautiously checking to make sure that no one had followed her, she slid the key into place and turned the lock. Inside, placed in the back shadows, was a tiny glass vile with some clear liquid substance. She put it into her bag, being careful not to break the delicate vial. *********** Agent Scully barged into the F.B.I. lab without knocking on Pendrell's door first. "Did you finish the tests yet?" she said, out of breath from hurrying to the labs so quickly. Pendrell nearly jumped out of his skin. "Ah, yeah, I did. Hang on a second," he said, clearly flustered at the second shocking Scully arrival of the day. Returning in a moment with the results in hand, he showed her his findings. "There was an unknown substance in the pie remains. I couldn't identify it against any in our databases. "Yeah, not ours, at least," Scully muttered under her breath. "What?" "Nothing. Can we do a little experiment?" "Yeah, I suppose." "I want to see if the liquid in this vile is a cure for that substance, if it affects it, or makes it go away. I think it may be an antidote for Agent Mulder." "Yeah, I'll get right on it. I was just finishing up here." "Great, thanks. Call me as soon as you know anything." "Will do," Pendrell answered. ************ The smoke danced. Being inhaled, exhaled. Always more swirling into the car. "She has deceived us. Gone against her untrustworthy words. You know what to do. I will hold you personally responsible if this fails." The man carefully snuck into the kitchen, effectively delivering the poison into the pot simmering on the stove, and, without so much as a trace to his presence. Outside, the car drove away into the night, a cigarette butt dropping silently onto the street pavement. Mrs. Mulder came back into her kitchen. Stirring the soup, she turned of the stove and took out a ladle and bowl from a nearby drawer. Carrying her supper to the table, she sat down and switched the TV to the local news. Blowing on the broth, she took the bite which came to be her last. ************ Raising her eyebrow so high it nearly became part of her hairline, Scully looked when a movement was caught in the corner of her eye. AD Skinner was at the doorway to Mulder's hospital room. "How is he?" Skinner asked. "He's asleep right now, but a lot better, actually. Whatever was in the vile is working wonders. He improved quite a bit in the last few hours." "I'm glad to hear that." Sir, what are you doing here?" Scully finally questioned curiously. "I'm afraid I have some bad news for Agent Mulder." "What is it?" she asked alarmedly. "Mulder's mother was found dead in her home early this morning. Probably poisoned. Some early results show the poisoning substance found in Mulder's blood, except in much higher amounts." Scully and Skinner heard a strangled gasp. They turned around to see Mulder's wide open, shocked eyes. And then Mulder closed them slowly, in absolute anguish. ************ A few hours later: Mulder sat quietly on the bed, wearing gray sweats now instead of the hospital gown. Not moving, the only hint of a sound was soft, yet steady breathing. Scully hesitated before entering the room. She knew that Mulder was going through a lot lately, and might want some privacy to deal with it. But, eventually, she made her way to the bed and sat down beside him. "Mulder? I'm sorry about your mother." She didn't know what else to say, and she wished there was something more original, something that could communicate what she felt. But there were no words for it. Mulder turned his head and stared into her eyes, his hazel eyes shimmering slightly with unfallen tears. "I don't get it, Scully. I just don't." He paused. "I mean she was my own mother. I don't understand how she could have done that. And I'll never know. I may not know what happened to Samantha, but there is a chance to find her. I can't do that with Mom." "Mulder, you don't know if she even had a choice. You know how these people work. They could make the sweetest little puppy kill everyone in the neighborhood." He broke eye contact with her, and gazed at the window again, seeing the glass, yet not through it. He shrugged. "I guess." Scully rubbed his shoulder gently. "Are you ready to go home? The doctors have decided that you're well enough." He would recover better at home, in a familiar place. Not that the hospital wasn't familiar, but it was not as comforting as home was. He nodded. "I'll meet you at the car." And he walked away, out of the room, and down the hallway. THE END Thanks for reading. You know how to email, right? It doesn't take that long, really it doesn't. Good, bad, I just love to see that new mail message. ================================================================== tigress35@hotmail.com Scully- "Do I detect a hint of negativity?" Mulder- "No! Yes, actually, yeah..." ----------- Visit my website! http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Dimension/3569/ ----------- Try the alternative to TV- The X-Files Series: http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Rampart/3569/ ===================================================================