Falling VERY IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER NOTICE: This is a 'dramatization' of a comic book. There is a lot of stuff in here taken directly from that comic. It is _Falling_, X Files Comic No. 13 by Stefan Peturcha, Charles Adlard, Miran Kim and, of course, created by Chris Carter. Since it was getting real hard to keep the quote marks straight when I took things from the comic, I decided on a different route. Just assume that everything said was from the comic. I added most of the feelings. I suggest that you go out (*if* you don't already own it) and buy this issue, read it and recognize all the places that are directly from the comic. That way, Topps gets to make more money, and they'll continue to produce these comics (which are making them tons of money already) and hopefully I can use this as my defense when they come to sue my butt. DISCLAIMER: As always, no copyright infringement is intended. I know these three people worked hard on this comic and deserve all the credit for the idea and the drawings are great. (Besides, if I tried to draw any of this it would all turn out looking like stick figures anyway.) Also, Chris Carter, 10-13 Productions and FOX all deserve all the credit and praise and money they can get for the whole concept of the X Files. I just couldn't keep my hands off it--honestly, I don't want money, or lawsuits. However, therapy might be nice :D SUMMARY: In a weird twist, I took a comic book (X Files No. 13, Topps) and turned it into a story. Please don't tell my kids. Rating: PG Category: SXA, no R Spoilers: Max, slightly Archivists: Feel free, just keep my name on it Comments always begged for. vickiemoseley1978@yahoo.com Falling Revised Somewhat and Retold By Vickie Moseley Adirondack Park, New York Monday 12.26 am The flash of light woke Jerry Goldfax, but the explosion knocked him out of his bed. Something had crashed in the woods near his little cabin. Something big. Jerry wasn't a fearful man, but he wasn't blind to danger, either. He searched around and found his flashlight, carrying it's weight like a weapon. The crash was probably an aircraft. There were plenty of plane crashes in Upstate New York, and this one would just be one of many that the locals would talk about for years to come. Jerry hoped to cash in on that, in some way. Maybe make it on the news. A little celebrity status never hurt anybody. So he went in search of the crash. What he found was not what he expected. Dana Scully's residence Monday 5:35 am The ringing of the phone woke her even before the alarm went off. Scully yawned as she answered. "Hi, Mulder, what's up?" she asked into the phone before the other person had a chance to engage in conversation. "See, Scully. I keep telling you that you're psychic. How did you know it was me?" Fox Mulder asked with a quiet chuckle in his voice. "You are the only person who ever calls me at this hour, Mulder. I'd kill anyone else." "So that's the 'real' reason you shot me," he accused. The dead silence that greeted his remark clued him into the fact that his partner did not appreciate his sense of humor at this hour. "So, is your suitcase unpacked from Friday night?" "No, and please, Mulder. Don't tell me that we're going out again?! I was hoping, no, I was actually looking forward to doing *paperwork* this week!" she exclaimed. "Now, you don't mean that, really, Scully. I know you better than that. Look, I just got a call. The MUFON chapter in Upstate New York says a downed UFO has been sighted in Childwood. And guess what?" "The President has scheduled a Summit meeting with the pilot?" she quipped. He chuckled again. "Close. The good townsfolk of Childwood are being scared crazy by an alien walking the streets. Anyway, I've got us a flight up there and it leaves in an hour. Hope you managed to get some laundry done this weekend." "Enough," she replied. "Are you picking me up?" "I'm sitting outside your apartment now. Hurry up, it's cold out here and my heater isn't working." Childwood, NY Police Station 11:21 am The Sheriff was anything but helpful. When it became apparent that the 'alien' sightings were not simply a manifestation of some of the towns' more alcoholically impaired citizens, he grudgingly allowed Scully to help him in a search of the town. Mulder decided that his time would be best spent going out to the supposed crash. Checks at all the local airports confirmed that whatever had fallen from the sky, it had not been an airplane. All air traffic during the night had been accounted for. No distress signals had been received. The cause of the crash was indeed unidentified. Scully and the Sheriff spoke to three residents who had reported seeing the alien wandering around town in the early morning hours. The first witness, a newspaper delivery manager, reported seeing a figure, dressed in human clothing, wandering aimlessly down the main street of town. When the manager called to the figure, it darted down an alley, but not before the man got a good look at it. He claimed the face was horrible, a mass of welts and bumps, and that the eyes were overly large and dark. The hair was in clumps on the head and it appeared that it was falling out, "Like a bad wig, or something," the manager had described. The other two witnesses, a waitress at the town square diner and a jogger, couldn't identify the figure, but agreed that it looked like it was on the run toward a residential area not far from downtown. Adirondack Park, Monday 2:43 pm Mulder really didn't mind leaving the house to house search to Scully and the Sheriff. The pot-bellied man had been abrasive at best, an asshole at worst and Mulder had the definite impression that he would end up coming to blows with the Sheriff if he had stayed in town. Besides, it was a beautiful day for a walk in the woods. And getting Scully to agree to such walks, after their many experiences, was getting harder and harder all the time. The MUFON people had been as helpful as possible, but they didn't have an accurate spotter in the immediate vicinity. So it was left to Mulder to wander the trails, hoping to stumble onto the fallen craft. If he could get there before any 'retrieval teams' beat him to it, that is. The memory of the incident leading to the demise of Max Fenig was still as sharp in his mind as if it had occurred just yesterday. This time, Mulder wanted to be there first, and scoop the MIB's. This time, he wanted something to bring home, and he wasn't going to take no for an answer. The trail was mostly wood chips and they crunched and snapped under his hiking boots. It was a pleasant sound to walk to and he was soon lost in thought, wondering what kind of craft he would find, if, indeed there was an alien, no, an 'E.B.E.' loose in the streets of Childwood. He was completely oblivious to the fact that he was being watched from the woods. It all happened so suddenly that he didn't even have time to be alarmed. A twig snapped, a rope went taut and a very large tree limb, almost two feet in diameter, came crashing down on top of him in the matter of a few seconds. Mulder was knocked unconscious by the force of the blow to his head, and pinned beneath the limb, his left leg taking the limbs' full weight. His right leg was bent at a precarious angle. From the bushes stepped five boys, cautiously approaching their catch for the day. The Jones Residence outskirts of Childwood 2:43 pm The call came in just about 2:30. Mrs. Helen Jones, coming home from picking her children up at day care, saw someone, or something, entering her house. She called the Sheriff from her car phone. Dana Scully and the Sheriff arrived shortly, along with two other cars of deputies. Scully lead the team, moving silently up to the door and motioning for the Sheriff to provide back up. She started to pull on the knob, when whoever was inside decided to come out, knocking the agent down in the process. Before Scully could stop him, the Sheriff took aim and fired. The subject fell at Scully's feet, dead from the bullet wound in the back. Immediately, Scully knew they had their *alien*. But it wasn't really an extraterrestrial biological entity. It was someone the Sheriff recognized, Jerry Goldfax. His skin was covered with hideous burns and welts, his hair falling out in big clumps from the mottled flesh on his scalp. "Sheriff, this man was suffering from severe radiation burns," Scully informed the officer upon a cursory examination of the body. "We have to get a hazmat team up here, immediately." Sheriff looked sceptical, but nodded and quickly got on the phone to make the arrangements. Childwood County Morgue 3:30 pm Scully was amazed at how quickly the hazardous materials unit was evac-ed to the small town. In just a little over half an hour, she was in full bio hazard suit, preparing the body of Jerry Goldfax for autopsy. Before suiting up, Scully had tried to reach Mulder on his cell phone. Ever since the incident with Bill Patterson, Scully had insisted that Mulder carry his phone at all times, and *keep* it turned on. He had assured her as much when he left her at the Sheriff's office earlier in the day. The fact that she could not reach him did not make her happy. After the third attempt, Scully was seriously worried. She notified the Sheriff that he needed to dispatch a few deputies up to the park to search for Mulder. It would be imperative that anyone in the area where protective clothing. It had been easy to see that Jerry had been exposed to a large amount of radiation, and the most likely source would be the fallen aircraft that had landed in the woods. As she started the autopsy, Scully's mind drifted to her partner. It was so typical of him to run in to trouble, even in the middle of nowhere. She hoped to finish the autopsy as soon as possible to go out to the woods and help in the search. She had completed the external exam and was about to make the first incision when the doors of the room flew open and several men in contamination suits stormed in and dragged her from the room. Adirondack Park 3:30 pm Mulder's head hurt. That was the first pain to hit him. Then, as he slowly became more awake, the pain in his right leg, just below the knee, hit. It was that sickening, searing kind of pain he had come to associate with a broken bone. He could sense a weight on his left side, pinning him to the ground. Most frightening, though, was the fact that he felt nothing on his left leg past his hip. Nothing. Not even the weight. he commanded himself. It took some effort. The sun was lower in the sky and the leaves in the tree above him caused the light to shift and blind him every so often. He forced his eyes open and looked around. Five pairs of eyes were staring at him. "Hey, the alien's waking up," a sandy haired boy, approximately 11 years old said anxiously to the other boys. They were all clustered around Mulder, looking nervously at him. Mulder's head was pounding by this point and he was not in his best form. He muttered something, something about not being an alien, or even a leprechaun, then asked the boys for help. He was rewarded with the barrel of his gun pointing directly in his face. A pimply faced kid with a bad imitation of a flat top hair cut and dirty overalls stared down the site. His glasses reflected the late afternoon sun, so Mulder couldn't really see his eyes, but his stance was not comforting. If anything, it was combative. "How'd we know your *not* an alien?" the kid growled. Mulder took a deep breath and tried to calm his racing heart. This kid held a gun like he'd done it before--many times before. It was well within the realm of possibility that this kid would pull the trigger and let the coroner figure out the answer to his question. "I'm one of the good guys!" Mulder exclaimed. "Now, put the gun down, before someone gets hurt." Mulder added to himself. Something glinted off the kid's glasses then and Mulder looked over in that direction. There, in a clearing that it had made on it's descent, was the alien craft. Mulder thought. "Look, whoever you are," Mulder spoke rapidly. "I've been hunting for, . . . for that *thing* over there for a long time. Now, we have to get word to the people in town. My partner, and the Sheriff. We have to get them out here to see this. Guys, listen to me. You'll all be heroes--really." The kid who had been kneeling beside him looked up at the pimply faced kid. "What if he's telling the truth, Timmy?" he asked. "What if he's _not_?" Timmy reasoned coldly. "C'mon guys! You watch TV. These alien dudes are *shape shifters*! Sure, he looks like a normal guy. But face it, that's what they would *want* us to believe." The first kid was shaking his head. "Nah, I don't think so. If he was a shape shifter, he could have gotten out from under that limb. OK, let's vote. How many believe the alien?" Mulder was not entirely happy with his new title, but was pleased to see the four hands that raised slowly. Only Timmy failed to raise his hand, but even he seemed to accept the decision of the majority. "All right, all right," Timmy voice was filled with disgusted resignation. "Not much we can do, anyway. The rope broke and the limb's too big to move. Joey, me 'n you'll go in to town and get help. Everybody else, stay here and watch the alien." He started off and then turned for a second. "If he moves, hit him with a rock. Not even an alien can live with his brains bashed out." The two boys headed off down the trail. "Timmy! The gun," Mulder remembered. "Hey, guys, you can leave it on the ground here. I'm afraid one of you might get hurt. That thing is loaded." "That's OK," replied Timmy. "I've been around guns before. 'Sides, even if you're telling the truth and you're not an alien, doesn't mean there ain't one out *there*." Walken County Sheriff's Department 3:45 pm Dana Scully stormed into the Sheriff's private office, fit to be tied. She was still wearing the majority of her hazmat suit, only having ripped off the head gear on the way over from the morgue. "You want to tell me exactly what's going on here, Sheriff?" she hissed. "I did what you asked, Agent Scully," the man crooned. "I called in the *calvary*. You are off this case. I got my authority directly from the Air Force." He smiled with satisfaction. "No one touches that body. Oh, and they mentioned specifically you and your partner. Guess you're famous." His laugh was cruel. "Does that mean the search for Agent Mulder has been called off," Scully surmised. It was taking everything in her power not to grab the gun the Sheriff was cleaning and shove it down his throat. "'Fraid it does." Scully's stomach jumped to her throat. She had to calm down, she had to deal with this 'ape' rationally. "Listen to me. We have to keep searching. That man in the morgue was exposed to high levels of radiation. You've seen what it did. My partner may be out there in the woods *dying*!" "Look, Agent Scully. The Air Force said they'd have a search team out here in a couple of hours. I'm sure they will do whatever they can for your partner. Now, I suggest you go get a cup of coffee and relax." Adirondack Park 4:00 Joey and Timmy were making good time on the trail. They both had spend many summers exploring the woods near their homes. Both boys were feeling playful, now that they had a mission. Naturally, the game turned out to be 'cops and robbers.' "I'm the Sheriff and you're my prisoner," Timmy said, giving Joey a vicious shove in the back. "I'm taking you to jail!" "Hey! Quit pushing," Joey shouted. "Shuddup, prisoner!" Timmy ordered and shoved Joey hard enough to cause the smaller boy to fall down. Joey hit the ground with a rush of breath being knocked from his lungs. "Timmy! What's the matter with you?" Joey asked frantically. "Your face is all red!" "I said QUIET!" Timmy screamed. Joey was starting to feel fear coursing through his body. "Awright, Timmy. Now you're in trouble. That guy back there is no *alien*. He's from the FBI. When we get to town I'm gonna tell everybody that it was _your_ idea to set that trap." "We saw that flyin' saucer *first*!" Timmy growled. "It's ours!" "You're crazy, Timmy," Joey said fearfully. "Yeah, but I kinda like it," came the reply. By the UFO 4:00 pm Mulder had passed out after Joey and Timmy left, but was coming around again. "Guys," he called weakly. "Guys, come here." The three remaining boys looked first at each other, and then at the fallen agent. "Yeah," said a dark haired boy with a runny nose. "Whaddya want?" Mulder had taken the time to look at his hands. He reached up and cautiously touched a sore spot on his face, discovering in the process that his skin was covered with angry welts that were forming blisters. His hand came away wet. His heart dropped to his stomach. He knew all too well what he was dealing with now. "Boys. Look at me," he commanded. The three gathered around him slowly and he could tell by their shocked expressions that his tactile examination was accurate. "These welts on my face. They're symptoms of radiation poisoning. I've got radiation sickness, boys. I'm dying," he said trying to keep the fear and desperation out of his voice. His attention turned back to the three terrified faces in front of him. "You have to get out of here." A freckle faced boy with a missing front tooth leaned over and stared at Mulder for several seconds. "Aw, that looks like poison ivy to me," he declared with a snort. The air was split with the sound of gunshots. "What was *that*?" cried the expert on poison ivy. There was the sound of running footsteps and Timmy shot out of the brush. "Joey! Joey! Ohmigod!" he gasped, out of breath. Mulder closed his eyes. The gun was still smoking. He could smell the powder. "Calm down, Timmy," he said weakly. "Tell me what happened." Timmy took a deep breath. He looked around, ensuring the attention of all the boys. "It was *eight feet tall*! It had a huge mouth and green skin! It came out of the woods. It grabbed Joey! I think I shot it," he heaved the last words out with a shudder. Mulder was beginning to feel sick. Nausea crashed over him in waves and he was using every ounce of strength to stay awake. "That doesn't sound right . . ." he said, feebly shaking his head. There was a moaning from the forest in the direction that Timmy had come from. "There it is! Get it! Kill it!" Timmy screamed. All the boys turned in that direction. "No . . . wait . . . don't . . . " Mulder gasped. The boys looked back at him, hesitant to venture into the forest. "Are you crazy!?" Timmy screamed, regaining their attention. "That thing killed Joey! An' now, it's gonna kill US!" He stormed off into the trees, waving his gun. "Kill it! Kill it!" he chanted like an evil mantra. The three boys glanced furtively at each other and the freckle faced boy shrugged. Picking up sticks from the forest floor, they followed Timmy into the trees. For several minutes, Mulder was alone in the forest. He looked over at the craft, not more than thirty feet from where he lay. There was a breach in the hull, and inside he could see a faint blue green glow. He closed his eyes. His stomach rose up and this time, he didn't have the strength to fight the involuntary reflex. He was disgusted at himself for throwing up, and he was pinned so effectively that he couldn't even turn to the side. From somewhere in the 'warehouse' that was his memory, an article popped into his head. He'd seen it not long after his encounter with the 'Flukeman', Scully's pet name for the being that roamed the sewers of Newark, New Jersey. The article detailed the effects of radiation exposure that had been studied following the meltdown at Chernobyl, USSR. It had gone into sufficient detail that he was all too aware of his current condition. Radiation poisoning of the highest level would have resulted in his death long before now, he knew. But that did not mean that he wasn't suffering from the second level of exposure. His disorientation, the nausea were symptoms. In addition, sickness included difficulty in breathing, and he was experiencing that as well. His nasal passages felt dry, painfully so. Another symptom. "Might as well be textbook about it," he muttered aloud to no one in particular. He knew that if he lost consciousness, he would lapse into a coma. If found soon enough, and attended to by someone who knew what they were dealing with, there was a slim chance he would survive. he prayed. Then he closed his eyes and all sounds faded out of his range of hearing. Sheriff's Office "Look, Agent Scully, I can see you're upset," the Sheriff crooned with a disgusting smile. "But you might as well just have a seat . . ." A deputy stuck his head into the office, "Sheriff, the wife's on the line. Line 4." The Sheriff's brow furrowed for a minute and he started to pick up the phone. Scully put her hand out, covering his. "The extent of the damage indicates that Goldfax had *prolonged* contact with the source of the radiation. The crash must have occurred near his cabin." She let loose of her professional control for a moment at the thought of her partner, injured and helpless out in the forest. "You *know* where that is, don't you," she growled angrily, eyes flashing. "Maybe. But it's out of my hands," he said flippantly. "Now, if you don't mind . . ." He ripped his hand from her grasp. "Yeah, hon," he said into the phone, "we got a little situation. I want you and Timmy . . . " He was silent for a moment. "What!? . . . He was playing *where*?!" All color drained from his face. "Agent Scully. Don't leave just yet." Adirondack State Park A few minutes later, the boys returned, covered in blood. For the most part, they hadn't even gotten a good look at what they had just beaten to death. But it was dead, that was all that was important. Timmy was feeling particularly triumphant. "It's dead! We did it! It's DEAD!" "What about Agent Mulder?" asked the freckled faced boy. "Is *he* dead?" Timmy leaned over the prone man. "Nah. Still breathing. Looks like he puked all over himself, though." The boys wrinkled their noses in disgust. Timmy looked around at the others. "It's not safe here. We gotta go get help." "What about *him*?" asked a boy in a baseball cap. "He's almost dead already," Timmy sighed, with feigned concern. "Come on. We can send someone back for him." He turned and started walking. "If we don't run into any more aliens, that is." The boys followed, not noticing the insane glint that had come to Timmy's eyes. The boys voices came to Mulder in a fog of sickness and pain. Slowly, he opened his eyes to see their retreating forms fading into the trees. He wanted to call out to them, warn them what he thought he had seen earlier in Timmy's eyes, but he was too weak to move, much less call out. Mulder thought as he allowed his gaze to fall on the craft not more than thirty feet from where he lay. As he watched the craft, he almost thought he saw a form moving inside it. he mused. he asked silently of the craft. he pondered even as consciousness deserted him. He drifted for a few minutes on seas of his unconscious mind's making. Then he was startled back to reality by the explosion of gunfire somewhere not far from him. he moaned inwardly. He could only open his eyes to bare slits, but he could still make out Timmy's husky form coming at him from the forest. "No more aliens?" Mulder groaned, just a weak whisper. "Not any more," Timmy replied and brought the gun up in a two handed stance, resting the barrel against Mulder's temple. Mulder closed his eyes, almost welcoming the shattering pain that he expected within the next second. All he got was a loud click. The chamber was empty. Timmy had used the clip killing the other boys. He was covered with their blood. He tried the trigger again and shrugged at the resounding click it made. "Guess I'll hafta use a rock," he said lightly. Mulder groaned in pain, but Timmy ignored the agent and went searching around the forest floor for rock capable of bashing the man's brains out. "Here's one!" Timmy said happily, hefting the rock in both hands to ensure it's weight. "You killed them all, didn't you?" Mulder couldn't help himself. He had to know. "Yep," Timmy answered, gleefully raising the rock over his head so that it would smash into Mulder's temple. "Why?" Mulder asked. He was beyond hoping for a reprieve from death this time, he only wanted his question answered before the blackness came. Timmy was quick to comply. "I don't know. Guess I never liked any of them," he answered. He hadn't noticed the sound of a jeep barreling down the trail. "Timmy!" The shout was a greeting and a command at once. Timmy stopped in his movements and looked startled. "Dad?" Timmy was still standing with the rock raised over the prone agent. "What the *hell* are you doing?!" his father, the Sheriff, demanded. The Sheriff and Scully were in the jeep, wearing full hazmat gear. "Get in the jeep! NOW!" the Sheriff ordered, shoving the boy angrily into the back seat. Then he hurriedly moved over to stand next to Scully, who was crouched next to Mulder. "Scully . . . " Mulder moaned. "The alien ship." His partner was busy giving him a cursory examination. "Maybe," she said quietly. "Depends on who you ask. The Air Force is claiming that it's a downed experimental plane." She and the Sheriff worked to move the tree limb off Mulder. He gasp as the pain flooded the left side of his body. "And right now, Mulder, I really don't care," she added, purposefully ignoring the craft all together as she and the Sheriff carried Mulder to the jeep. Childwood Memorial Hospital 6:00 pm The small hospital staff had all but run screaming at the thought of caring for Mulder. They had no experience in radiation sickness and were not in a position to deal with it so immediately. The Air Force team had arrived about the same time that Scully and the Sheriff had pulled into the ER. Scully hadn't bothered to wait for the nurses, she grabbed the first gurney she saw and hastily shouted at the Sheriff to help her get Mulder on it. Thinking back to the only medical article she had ever seen on Chernobyl, Scully ordered oxygen and an IV with fluids and blood constitutes. Once she had the line started, she added antibiotics. The burns on his skin appeared to be minor, but other factors where causing complications. The limb had glanced off his head, causing a concussion, but it had landed it's full weight on his hip. The hip bone was fractured and need to be immobilized. Plus, in the fall, he had twisted his right leg and wrenched his knee viciously. Although the bone was intact, the knee was dislocated and there had been damage to the cartilage and the ligaments. Scully knew both the hip and the knee would require surgery, but that was taking a back seat to stabilizing the radiation sickness at that point. It was pretty obvious that he had vomited. His nasal passages appeared dry and he was having trouble getting a full breath. These things were all symptoms of radiation poisoning, but something else itched at the back of Scully's mind. It was just possible that they were symptoms of something else. The concussion could easily induce vomiting. Mulder was tramping out in the woods, in the early fall, and Scully remembered seeing him take an allergy capsule just before he headed off to the park, which would dry him up pretty effectively. The limb had bruised and cracked a couple of ribs on his left side, which could have contributed to his breathing difficulties. He was badly injured from the limb and was in shock, which tended to complicate everything else. But there wasn't time to make a mistake. She decided to error on the side of radiation poisoning, knowing that none of the procedures required would harm him if she was over reacting on this one. "Agent Scully," she heard her name being called as she checked over Mulder's vitals one more time. His pressure, which had been low due to shock, was starting to come back to normal, but his temperature was still over 101. Scully, sighed, knowing there wasn't much more she could do out in the middle of the sticks. "Yes," she answered tiredly. "I'm Agent Scully." A tall figure in hazmat gear stuck out his hand in greeting. "I'm Major Harrington, USAMRID. They called me on this as soon as the reports of a, ah, 'downed craft' came in. What have we got here?" Scully turned her attention to Mulder again. "Special Agent Fox Mulder. He was searching the woods when he got caught in an 'alien trap' that some of the local kids had made. We found him just a dozen yards from the 'craft', as you say. He appears to be suffering from radiation exposure. In addition to that, he's got a couple of bad fractures and a concussion. We need to get him somewhere that can deal with this stuff," she glanced around her briefly. "And this ain't it," she added with disgust. Scully just caught the gleam of a smile on the Major's lips. "Not to worry, Agent Scully. I've got a chopper en route. We can take him to Bethesda Naval. It's closest to home and they can handle radiation exposure as well, if not better than anyone. Gets sort of dicey on those nuke subs, sometimes," he added, while taking in the monitor displays next to Mulder's gurney. "He seems stable for the time being. I see you've got the jump on procedure. That should help a lot once we get him down home." He gave Scully a curious look. "Run into this before?" he asked. Scully smiled cryptically. "We run into a lot of strange stuff in our line of work. I've read an article on the aftermath of Chernobyl just recently. That helped tremendously." "I didn't know we had medical doctors in the FBI. I thought they all worked for Food and Drug or CDC," Harrington said, fishing for an explanation. "I'm a forensic pathologist," Scully answered. "But I've had to bone up on my other talents since becoming Agent Mulder's partner," she added ruefully. "Well, let's hope he doesn't need your 'chosen profession' for a while, yet," Harrington replied and moved off to find out how soon the chopper would arrive. Scully looked out the double doors of the Emergency Room and sighed in relief. The pounding she had heard alerted her to the arrival of the medivac chopper, but seeing was believing. She let her hand caress her partner's forehead gently, one more time. Even through the hazmat gloves, she could tell he was running a fever. Bethesda Naval Medical Center 12:02 am Scully sat on a stool in the lab watching the doctors and technicians around her. Mulder was in quarantine, just one level below. He'd had his hip bone set and his knee stabilized. Now all that was left was to determine the rest of his treatment. "Just as I figured," muttered a tall, thin doctor in his early 50's, looking through a microscope. "Agent Scully, come here. You ought to see this." Scully moved over to the table and brushed her hair from her face so she could look through the eyepiece. She held her breath and closed her eyes for a while, stealing herself before looking at the sample. Finally, she chanced a look, still holding her breath. After a moment, she sighed in relief. "They appear perfectly healthy," she exclaimed happily. "But I don't get it. Mulder was found just a few feet from the craft. He'd been there all afternoon. Given Goldfax's exposure, and the blistering on Mulder's skin, I assumed. . . " "Well, a lot depends on the type of radiation that each man was exposed to," the doctor replied. "There's a hell of a 'whollop' to gamma radiation. Alpha radiation on the other hand, might affect the skin, but not the blood cells. Not much could have stopped a direct hit of gamma that close, but your partner's clothes probably gave him as much protection from alpha rays as a lead shield would have. Looks like you're partner dodged the bullet on this one, literally." Scully wiped her eyes hurriedly and smiled at the man. "Thanks," she said quietly and left the lab. The older man simply nodded. 7:12 am Mulder's head was splitting from a sound just out of range. It was annoying and insistent and familiar and all he wanted to do was pull out his gun and shoot it till it stopped. He knew how to achieve this goal, but it required opening his eyes and he wasn't quite sure how to go about that. After a couple of minutes of considering his situation, he heard a soft sigh, somewhere off to his left. It was Scully. He knew that sigh anywhere. She usually reserved it for when she was sitting next to him in a hospital, so he figured, whatever had happened, he had probably survived it. Unless he was just in the 'process' of dying . . . He swallowed hard, not wanting to continue that line of thought. But his throat was dry and raw and it hurt to swallow, even if he could have done it properly. He had to open his eyes. If he did, Scully would be there to give him a drink, make it feel better, tell what was happening. And turn down the sound on that damn heart monitor. It took a couple of blinks, but finally, his eyelids caught and stayed in the 'open' position. That accomplished, he tried to focus on the blurr of reddish brown hair, just a few feet from his face. "Come out, come out, wherever you are," she taunted softly. " . . . drink," he replied in a barely audible whisper. She smiled at him and complied with his wish. Just a few sips were allowed, but it was enough to moisten his parched throat. He smiled weakly. "What's . . . the verdict?" "Well, generally speaking, you broke your hip, messed up your knee, have a concussion and three cracked ribs. When all is said and done, Mulder, it was a typical day on the job--for you," she added pointedly. " . . . radiation?" he asked, almost afraid of the answer. "I learned a lot about radiation today, much of it I used to know and forgot. Basically, you were exposed to alpha radiation waves. You'd get worse burns from the steam that escapes when you open your microwave popcorn bag." She grinned slightly at his befuddled expression. " . . . the blisters?" he asked, raising his arm to show off the rash that covered every inch of exposed flesh. "I know, I know. But alpha waves are shorter and have less damaging effects. You've got the equivalent of a bad sunburn, Mulder. So count yourself 'lucky' and get some rest." She reached down and pulled up a small shopping bag, handing it to him. "The doctors say you're in here for a while, just to be sure, so I brought you some reading material." He reached into the bag and pulled out a paperback. "_Lord of the Flies_, Scully? How appropo," he said dryly. "What happened to Timmy? And did they find the other boys?" "The Air Force team found the bodies. Timmy was admitted to the state psychiatric hospital, to determine the extent of his psychosis. He's been a troubled child for some time, according to one of the nurses at the Childwood hospital, but his father's position always shielded him. It's a shame, really. Those boys' deaths could have been avoided if he'd gotten help earlier." Mulder nodded sleepily. "Sometimes, Scully, not all the aliens are 'out there'," he said. "Sometimes, they're right next to us and we don't even suspect it." His eyes slid closed as he fell back asleep and he didn't notice when she took the book from his grasp and placed it on the bed tray. The end If you liked it, thank Topps Comics. I just had to play with it a bit. Vickie Stand up for what you think is right, Even if you stand alone. --a poster