Title: Off the Beaten Path Author: Vickie Moseley Summary: Post ep for Detour. Written for After the Fact Challenge. Rating: PG 13 Category: V, MT, A, UST Disclaimer: Still don't own 'em, still not makin' money off 'em, still using them freely. Yup, it's all the same. Still not infringing on the copyright. Archives: yes Notes: This story was an X File in itself! I wrote the darned thing ages ago (before the end of July) just for this week because I LOVE Detour and wanted to do one more 'homage' piece to that story. I even got to have it beta-ed by the best And then, my computer crashed and I was sure it was gone for good. Fortunately, some wonderful beta found it still resting somewhere on her computer, so it's because of Auntie Deb that this baby comes toddling to you now. Next time, I'll wait till closer to the challenge to write the story Off the beaten path By Vickie Moseley "C'mon, Scully. Let's get out of here." Mulder's warm hand was on the small of her back for an instant while he hurried her to the waiting car. "Where are Kinsley and Stonecypher?" she asked, checking the back seat and looked at her partner curiously. Mulder was fumbling with the key to the trunk while trying not to drop his suitcase. Whatever he was thinking, he was causing himself and his injured shoulder more harm than good. "Give me those," she huffed, taking the keys and the case from him, then opening the trunk and sliding both suitcases inside. "You left them behind, didn't you?" she accused. "It was entirely unintentional, Scully," he assured her, but his guilty look told her more than his words. "Couldn't we just say . . ." "We go back and pick them up. I don't want to hear another word about it," she warned him. He attempted to beat her to the driver's side, but one steely glance from her and he slunk off toward the passenger side. It took no time to go back to the site of the roadblock and find the two agents. Stonecypher didn't hide the fact that she was miffed at being ditched, but Kinsley seemed to take it in stride. The two deposited their luggage in the trunk and situated themselves in the backseat. "Well, that was a huge waste of time," Stonecypher started the minute the car was in gear. "We missed the whole first day of activities. We'll never catch up at this point." "Catch up?" Mulder asked, and instantly regretted it. He had a throbbing headache and he really didn't want another lengthy explanation on the necessity of building furniture structures to foster inter-partner communication. "Yes, each activity awards you points, if you complete it properly. Then at the end, they have prizes. Last year the winning partners got two plane tickets to anywhere in the continental United States," she told him eagerly. Mulder glanced over at Scully and saw her raised eyebrow. "Is there a second place prize where you get to stay in your own apartment for 48 hours straight?" he asked innocently. Kinsley laughed, but Stonecyper couldn't see the humor in the remark. "We'll be at least 40 points behind by the time we get there," she fumed. "And I really did want to win this year." "We were third place last year," Kinsley explained. "And that was because of what?" Stonecypher growled. "Because I didn't remember to bring the assigned list to the scavenger hunt," Kinsley said guiltly. "Maybe it's a good thing we missed last year," Mulder muttered. "Well, I think they're wonderful. I've learned so much about Mike and how we communicate when we're really in trouble. It's a wonder we haven't gotten ourselves in trouble out in the field. We were just going along, doing our own things, never giving thought to what the other person was doing. It's dangerous, you know. Without these conferences, we'd have a lot more injuries in the field," Stonecypher prattled on. Scully took that opportunity to take her eyes off the road and give her partner a good long look. He had the audacity to meet her gaze and give her a lop-sided grin. They didn't have that much farther to go, it was just about two hours later when they pulled up to the hotel. Scully gave the covered archway and valet an appraising look. "I can tell you had nothing to do with organizing this thing, Mulder," she whispered as she moved past him through the doors. When he didn't respond in any way she looked back at him. He was flexing the fingers on his left hand, staring at his fingers as if he was trying to make them move faster. "How's your shoulder? Stiff?" she asked. He looked up like he hadn't heard her, then nodded. "Something like that," was all he would admit. "You need to lie down a little while. Lunch is in an hour. I'll come by and wake you up." He surprised them both by nodding again. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. I didn't really sleep that well. Someone kept singing in my ear all night," he said with another grin. He headed over to the registration desk and discovered that they were roomed on opposite ends of the same hall. She started to object, but he stopped her with a look. It was one thing to be together in the field, when they might need the back up, it was another to make a scene over room arrangements at a conference. There were enough people betting on their sleeping arrangements as it was. She left him at the elevator, since the bellboy was more than willing to take up the bags. As the elevator doors closed, she couldn't help feeling just a little worried about him. The elevator was glass and overlooked the interior of the hotel. Terraces of hanging plants graced each level. A fountain was the centerpiece on the first floor and three spouts of water shot two levels up before curving in perfect arcs and splashing against the black marble of the base. It really was a nice place and Mulder wished with all his soul that he could enjoy it a little more. His headache was now a full-fledged pounding and his shoulder was aching deep in the bone. But what had him the most concerned was his hand. His left had tingled, felt like it was asleep almost. He tried wiggling the fingers, his sure-fire way to wake up a numb limb, but to no avail. He was certain Scully was right. He needed to lie down for a while, get some rest. Even he could sense that his injury was not to be taken lightly. The room was as nice as the lobby had promised. He had a king sized bed, a desk, a low dresser and an armoire with a television and a mini- bar. Years of experience with Bureau expense accounts warned him against even looking at the mini-bar, but the bed held his attention from the minute he stepped foot in the room. Without even bothering to find the remote to the television, he crawled onto the bed on top of the covers and was soon fast asleep. Scully sat in the back of the room, trying to pay attention. She'd walked in on a panel discussion in progress. The topic was cultural differences between partners and learning to appreciate diversity. She kept having to bite her lip. She and Mulder were pretty culturally diverse and yet they never seemed to thrive on it. She wondered if any of the couples sitting in the room would include liver-eating mutants, flukemen and alien bounty hunters in their definition of diversity. Finally, the panel opened the floor for discussion. Since it was less than 15 minutes to lunch, there were no questions from the audience. Of course, that meant that the moderator had to ask a few, just to keep them all in their seats. When Scully was seriously thinking of making a break for the door, the moderator thanked the panel and the room broke into sporadic applause. Scully was the first one out the door. All the way up the elevator to the sixth floor, she felt strange. She was overcome with worry, but she couldn't explain it. Something was wrong, dreadfully wrong and all she knew was that she had to get to Mulder as quickly as possible. She ran down the hall to his room and pounded on the door. There was no answer. She pounded again and waited. When no answer came again, she pounded a third time and vowed to herself that she would get someone from the front desk to open the door if he didn't appear. She heard the bolt lock click off and then the door slowly swung open. Mulder was already half way back to the bed, but seemed to be having some difficulty walking. He staggered a bit before finally climbing hand over hand onto the bed. The sides of the comforter were pulled up creating a nest in the middle and he settled himself into it. "Mulder, you really look bad," she told him. He grunted in response. "I would be offended, but I feel worse than I look," he said in a raspy voice. "I feel like hell, Scully," he informed her. He'd piled the three pillows into a heap and was settled on his back, but even four feet away she could hear a distinct rattle in his chest. She was over on the edge of the bed in an instant. "Does your head still hurt?" she asked, placing her palm against this forehead and then his cheek. He had a fever, she could feel it. She then placed her hand flat on his chest, first in front and then on his back. She could feel the rattle as well as hear it. It seemed more pronounced on the left side. "Everything hurts. My head, my shoulder. Except my hand." She was feeling up under his chin, at his glands. They seemed a little swollen, which could account for his raspy throat. "Why doesn't your hand hurt?" she asked, reaching down to take his right wrist between her thumb and two fingers, feeling his pulse. "It's numb," he said simply, closing her eyes. That caused her concern. "Which hand?" she asked. He waved the offending extremity in her direction. She grabbed it and felt along the tendons. "Squeeze for me," she requested. It was obvious that he was trying to obey, but nothing was happening. "How long has this been going on?" "Started during the ride here. It was just my fingers at first. I thought I might have pinched a nerve last night when you were wrestling me," he said with a faint ghost of his usual smile. "It got worse. Now it's numb all the way to my elbow." "Mulder, I don't like this at all. I want to take you to see a doctor," she told him getting up and going to the phone on the other side of the bed. "Scully, I saw a doctor this morning," he reminded her. "He even gave me a shot of antibiotics," he added, trying to rub his upper arm with his numb hand. It didn't work. "I know, I was there for every joyful moment." She turned her attention to the phone for a moment. "Desk? Can you give me the phone number of the nearest urgent care or emergency room?" "Not the emergency room, Scully," he groaned. "They already think I'm trying to skip out on this thing," he muttered. "It's my partner," she said in to the phone, ignoring his objections. "He's taken ill and I'd like to get him into a doctor as soon as possible." She listened for a minute, then turned to Mulder. "Do you think you can get down to a car?" He rolled his eyes. "Yes, I can walk to a car, and no I don't think I need an ambulance," he growled. "Yes, that would be most helpful. Mulder. M-U- L-D-E-R. Fox. Yes. Thank you. We'll be down in about five minutes." She looked him over for a minute, assessing if he really was capable of getting all the way down to the lobby. "I'm not that bad, Scully, really," he assured her. "Why don't you get the car, I'll be right there." "The hotel is providing a courtesy car. Someone is driving us over. They said it would be faster and safer than trying to give us directions. Where are your shoes?" He looked around the floor. "Under the bed, I guess," he mumbled and leaned over, almost toppling to the ground. She grabbed his arms and set him back on the bed. "Dizzy for a minute," he admitted. "Let me find them. You stay put," she ordered. She fished the shoes out from where he'd kicked them when he'd first gotten on the bed and helped him put them on his feet. Then she helped him to stand, but he swayed when she let go of him. "Maybe I should call the desk again," Scully was saying when there was a knock on the door. She sat Mulder back down on the bed and went to answer it. It was Mike Kinsley. "Stonecypher couldn't find you two at lunch and uh . . . sorry if I interrupted anything," he said hastily in embarrassment, completely misreading the scene before him. "Agent Kinsley, I need your help," Scully told him, pulling him into the room. "Mulder's arm is worse, I need to get him to the doctors. They have a car waiting for us downstairs, but I don't think I can get him down there by myself." Kinsley's face instantly went from embarrassed to concerned. "Sure, Agent Scully. Here, Agent Mulder, just put your arm around my shoulder." Mulder hissed in pain as Kinsley grabbed the wrong arm. "Oh, sorry! Here, let's do it this way," he said moving to the other side. Finally, the two men were standing although Mulder not quite upright and Scully led them out of the room and down the hall to the elevator. Stonecypher was standing at the elevators on the first floor, tapping her foot impatiently. "Mike, we're going to be late, oh my God, what's the matter with him?" her fury changed immediately when she got one look at Mulder. "He's sick. I think it's his shoulder. I need to get him to the doctor," Scully explained. Stonecypher ran to get the door, beating the valet by a split second. "Where are you taking him?" Kinsley asked the driver. "Orlando Memorial is just up the road. They have a Prompt Care. We'll be there," the driver told him. "We'll tell the check-in committee," Mike assured Scully. "Give us a call when you need a ride back." "Thanks, Agent Kinsley. I'll call you later." Scully climbed into the backseat with Mulder, who was leaning heavily against the door. "How are you doing?" she asked, taking his hand in hers and giving it a squeeze before checking his pulse again. "Is it really hot in here?" he asked without answering her question. "No, it's fairly cool. I can have the driver turn off the heater if you want," she offered. He nodded weakly and closed his eyes. His face was already dotted with a fine sweat, she didn't like the pale color he'd taken on just in the short trip down to the car. His pulse was a little fast, but nothing to worry about. She was more concerned with the numbness that seemed to be progressing up his arm. She reached over and pinched his upper forearm. He didn't even flinch. "Mulder, is your whole arm numb now?" she asked. He nodded again and stretched his neck to the side as if working out a kink. She leaned forward and tapped the driver. "Hurry, please," she asked, hoping she sounded calmer than she felt. By the time they reached the hospital, just a few miles from the hotel, Mulder was having trouble breathing. Scully was now close to panic and shouted at the driver to get a nurse and a wheelchair, which he did. In just seconds, they had Mulder in the wheelchair and back in the treatment area. He couldn't lift himself up on the gurney so an orderly and a nurse assisted him. As he lay back, Scully noted that now his lips had taken on a bluish tint. She brought that to the nurse's attention and she quickly pulled over an oxygen mask, strapping it on Mulder's face. His eyes fluttered open and he searched around for Scully. She stood up so he could see her easier and smiled at him nervously, then took his hand in hers. "Just relax, Mulder. We'll get this figured out. For now, just take it easy, let us do the work." He bent his head forward, as if to nod, but this time it didn't come up again. The nurse, who was taking his vitals and had a stethoscope to his chest immediately turned and called for the doctor. Mulder was no longer breathing. The doctor was shouting orders, a code was called over the PA and Scully was shoved out of the treatment room and left to stand in the hallway as medical personnel raced past her. She didn't even realize she was shaking until a nurse touched her arm and led her to the family lounge, just off the main room of the Emergency Department. The nurse assured her that the doctor would be out to speak with her as soon as possible. Scully sat there, stunned. What had happened? Mulder had been checked out at the site, he'd been given a shot of antibiotics, his tetanus vaccination card in his wallet saved him an extra dose of that antitoxin, but obviously something had been missed. She remembered the other victims, Officer Fazekas and Mr. Asekoff had been cut, bruised, dehydrated, but neither of them were experiencing the reactions Mulder had. If they'd had the same numbness progressing to respiratory failure, they would have been dead before Scully and Mulder had found them. But the cavern had been full of dead bodies, she remembered. She and Mulder had been counting them, taking them near the sinkhole for removal by the rescue team. Some of the bodies were relatively intact, well preserved. Maybe they held some clue as to what was happening now to Mulder. She was lost in this train of thought when a young man entered the lounge and headed in her direction. "Dana Scully?" he asked, offering his hand. "I'm Dr. Jeff Martin, I'm the cardio- pulmonary resident called in to treat Mr. Mulder. Are you his wife?" Scully shook her head. "No, we're with the FBI. Agent Mulder is my partner. I'm a medical doctor, a pathologist for the Bureau. We were attending a conference in Orlando." "Wow, those things must get pretty rowdy," Dr. Martin commented. "His shoulder's a mess." "No, that's not how Agent Mulder was injured," Scully hastened to explain. "We were stopped at a roadblock a few miles from here on the way down yesterday. A survey team and a hunter were lost in the woods. We were helping with the rescue efforts when our guide disappeared and Mulder was attacked. We spent the night in the forest without shelter." By this time Martin was frowning and chewing on his lip. "What exactly attacked him? We're running blood work but no results have come back. Did you catch the animal?" Scully licked her lip. This was not going to be easy. "It wasn't an animal. We believe it was a man." "You 'believe' it was a man? Did he get away?" Scully shook her head. "No, he was killed. I shot him when he attacked us again. But, well, it was an unusual case," she said with a tried sigh. "The body was taken to a morgue, but I'm not certain where. I should call the sheriff's department there and find out." "I won't kid you, I'm at a total loss at the moment. Until those results come back, I have your partner intubated and we have a cardiac crash cart on standby. His blood pressure and sinus rhythm seem stable at the moment, but on the admitting chart it said he was brought in complaining about numbness in his left arm. I'm still worried about his heart." "May I see him?" Scully asked. She was even more worried now that she'd spoken to a doctor. Martin frowned again. "I'm sending him up to ICU right now. Let him get settled and you can go up. Is there anyone you need to call? His family?" Scully sighed. She should probably call his mother, but the last time Mulder had seen her had been anything but pleasant and the woman had not bothered to see her son when he was hospitalized. Scully wasn't sure what do to, and decided to wait until she'd seen him for herself. "His mother lives in New England. I'd really like to wait until there is more to tell her." "Whatever you think is best," Martin said with a shrug. "The ICU waiting room is a little more comfortable than this one. It's on 4th floor, turn right as you leave the elevator. Just check in with the nurse at the desk and she'll put on the schedule." Scully was still trying to sort it all out when she noticed that Dr. Martin had left. She shook her head and looked around for the elevators. Mulder was very much aware of his surroundings. Although his eyes were taped closed, he could hear everything, could sense the movement of the gurney, smell the antiseptic and faint floral scent that floated past him as he was transported to his room. He could definitely feel the hard plastic tube down his throat, and that was the most upsetting. With the tube in place, he couldn't call out for Scully. He had heard the voices around him and knew the doctor and nurses thought he was in a coma. In fact, his body was reacting that way, especially his chest and lungs which had decided to take a day off, completely. But his mind was alert. He knew that shouldn't be happening, but it was. He knew Scully would stand there and tell him exactly how impossible it was for the human body to be in the state of stasis that defined the term coma and yet the mind still be alert enough to hear, understand and process. As a matter of fact, he wished there was some way he could get through to her just so he could hear her tell him all that. And he more than anything wished he could feel her hand holding his and her fingers stroking his hair. Why could he feel on the inside and not on the outside? Why did the tube scrap and hurt going down, but he wasn't sure if he was laying on a hospital gurney or a bed of hot coals? It made no sense to him, but the more he thought about it, the more panicked he became and he knew that was not going to help the situation. The gurney stopped and he was picked up and placed on another bed. The sensation of floating and then landing was entirely unpleasant, like the final dip of a roller coaster that he never anticipated. It made him feel a little nauseous, but once he was settled, that calmed down to a reasonable level. He heard the nurses connecting all the machines around him, setting them, placing bags of medication on the hooks above his bed. It was disconcerting to hear them talk about him as if he weren't there, but at least it gave him some information. They were concerned about his heart so there was a crash cart near his bed. They were concerned about his respiration and had him on full support. They weren't sure what was happening, but the doctor had ordered blood gases drawn every four hours. And then they all left, and he was alone. Just from the sounds, he could tell he was in ICU. He was usually only conscious for a short part of his many visits there, but he remembered all too well how quiet those floors tended to be. There were no visitors, so only the nurses' soft-soled shoes shushed on the floor outside his room. The only noises in the room were the sounds of the monitors and from the different noises, he knew he was as 'monitored' as he could get. And he was almost certain he was in a private cubicle or he didn't have a roommate because he couldn't hear anyone else breathing, or being assisted in their breathing. If he was in ICU, Scully must have been relegated to the waiting room. He could picture her there, pacing and sending hate daggers with her eyes toward whatever nurse stood between her and his room. If he could have made his diaphragm work, he would have chuckled at the image his mind conjured up. But then again, he remembered standing just outside her room, looking through a glass window and seeing her intubated, on life support and then having Skinner haul his ass out of the hospital to sit and answer questions for an eternity before he even had a chance to tell her he was there. Maybe making Scully wait wasn't that funny. As he felt himself grow drowsy and drift off, he wished more than anything that when he woke up, Scully would be there. ICU 3:15 pm Scully reluctantly left the room, promising him that she would be back in 45 minutes. It broke her heart when the nurse had tapped on the glass. She'd been in three times to see him already and each time had been the same. He was unresponsive, still not breathing except with the help of the machines and they still hadn't gotten any of the blood tests back. She was ready to go down to the lab and do the tests herself. The nurse nodded to her as she walked into the waiting lounge. Scully barely acknowledged her and went to sit in her corner, staring at the clock. She didn't even notice when Agent Stonecypher entered the room. "Agent Scully? Dana? My god, what happened?" Carla Stonecypher asked as she took the seat next to Scully. "We hadn't heard from you so Mike called the hospital. They told us Agent Mulder is in critical condition." Scully drew in a deep breath. She really wasn't in the mood for an interrogation on Mulder's condition. But Stonecypher seemed genuinely concerned. She licked her lips and explained as much of the situation as she could. "Oh my god, that's awful! And to think Mike and I thought he was just trying to get out of the conference," Carla said with a shake of her head. Scully bristled at her accusation of Mulder, but decided it really wasn't worth the effort. "So, where is Mike?" she asked instead. "Oh, he dropped me off at the door and parked the car. He should be up here soon." As if on cue, Mike Kinsley stood in the door, searching the room for anyone familiar. He spotted Carla and joined them. "Have you been in to see him?" Mike asked after Carla gave the abbreviated version of Mulder's recent affliction. "Every hour since they brought him up here. But he's in a coma. I don't expect him to respond to me," she said trying to hide the pain that admission caused her. "Mike, why don't you run to the cafeteria and get us all some decent coffee," Carla suggested. Mike gave her a curious look, but shrugged and did as he was told. Carla watched him until he'd left the room and then she turned back to Scully. "Dana, I know this must be horrible for you. I can't even imagine how strung out I'd be if anything ever happened to Mike," she said with a shake of her head. "I know, it's hard when you work so closely together," Scully said with a sigh. "If I couldn't wake up to his shining face every morning, I'd just lose it, I know I would," Carla continued, staring off into space. Scully blinked and swallowed. Carla turned toward her. "I mean, it probably would be easier if we weren't sleeping together, but I wouldn't trade our relationship for the world, would you?" "Carla, we aren't . . . I mean Mulder and I don't . . . we . . ." Carla laughed and squeezed Scully's arm. "Dana, Dana, it's just us here. No A.D.s, no Bureau water coolers. Mike and I didn't make it through the first six months before we hit the sheets. And I know you and Agent Mulder must have beat us by a country mile!" At Scully's slow shake of denial, Carla's jaw dropped open. "You haven't?" Scully continued to shake her head. "Not even once?" Carla sat back and blew out a breath. "Man, he doesn't look gay," she half muttered. Then she quickly looked at Scully, her eyes wide. "Oh, maybe I have that wrong!" "Carla, no, we're not gay," Scully assured her. "We just . . . never . . ." "Talk about unexplained phenomenon," Carla said with a low whistle. "I mean, you two are joined at the hip! If anyone were to tell me you weren't sleeping together, well, except you of course, I would have called them a liar right to their face." "So you and Mike . . .?" Scully asked. It was like witnessing a train wreck. She didn't really want to know, but couldn't turn her head away from the carnage, either. "Three years now," Carla said with a nod. "We spend every weekend together. When we became partners, I had a boyfriend, but he couldn't understand my wanting to be a field agent. We broke up. Mike had been in a long-term relationship and then he found out she had the hots for the girl next door, if you know what I mean. It just sort of all fell into place." She looked over at Scully again, gauging her reaction. "Oh, we tried to deny it for a long time. The work came first, we didn't want to mess up our friendship, all the usual reasons. But then one night we were working on some files and there was a storm and the lights went out . . ." She got a faraway look in her eyes and a smile on her face. "It was funny. When we woke up the next morning, we actually sat there and tried to decide if we'd made a mistake or if we could make it work. Who does that? Who analyses their sex life like that? Only FBI agents, right?" Scully was more than relieved when the nurse called her name, letting her back in to see her partner. All the way to Mulder's room, she was still reeling with Carla's revelation. Was everyone at the Bureau sleeping together except she and Mulder? Well, at least Mulder was sleeping. She took his hand again, giving it a squeeze. She didn't know that he was awake and alert and had been waiting for her. She sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked his hair, talking softly to him, never realizing that he was listening to every word. "Mulder, I don't know what to tell you. The results aren't back yet. I'm sorry about the tube, but at least you can't feel it." The almost made him laugh, but again, he didn't have enough control to do it. "I just wish you'd wake up. I think we've missed most of the boring parts of the conference. Tonight is the dinner dance and I was sort of hoping I could get a dance. Just one." He felt his heart tighten and knew it wasn't medical. He'd love to dance with her. It was something he'd dreamed of for years. She chuckled for a second. "You won't believe this, Mulder. Stonecypher and Kinsley? They're sleeping together! Three years, do you believe that? I know I never would have guessed it. But then, the way they were when they were talking about building that tower . . ." He thought he heard her hiccup and when she spoke again, he could her that strain in her voice. "She thought . . . they thought . . . Well, you know that stupid pool. I set her straight, though. I mean, I'd hate to get the credit for something we haven't done, right?" If his eyes hadn't been closed, he would have slammed them shut, trying to block the pain her heard in her voice. It was a pain that he shared, deep in his very core. "I just keep thinking someday. Someday we'll find Samantha, and someday we'll end the conspiracy and someday we'll have time . . ." This time there was no mistaking the sniffle that ended the sentence. He wished he could make some movement, force his hand to flex just enough to let her know how much he shared her pain, and her hopes. "After my remission, it was something I used to think about. When you came over to see me at Mom's I almost thought . . . But it wasn't the right time. I finally realized that. It's never been the right time for us." He wanted to scream at her, shake her, make her understand. If it was what she wanted, that was good enough for him. He'd wanted to be with her since their first year. He couldn't stand the thought of losing her, so much so that he'd considered ending his own life rather than watch her waste away from something he'd caused. But then he had realized that before he died, he had to save her. Even if it meant giving up everything he'd ever wanted. Even if it meant giving up Samantha. "Mulder, I just want it to be the right time for us. Please. I'm not expecting it overnight, I just want something to look forward to. Can you give me that much?" He gladly gave her that much and so much more. But there was no way to tell her. "I just want you to get better, Mulder. I just want you to get . . ." Her sobs were too much for him. He felt his heart breaking. He almost missed the tap on the window. More sniffles and then her voice was right next to his ear. "I'll figure this out, Mulder. If I have to hold the lab at gunpoint, I will figure this out. We will have that chance, Mulder. I swear we will." He couldn't feel the kiss, but he knew the exact moment she placed it on his forehead. Both Stonecypher and Kinsley were in the waiting room and it took everything in her for Scully to enter the room and join them. She wanted so much to run from the hospital and not look back. But she would never leave Mulder, and so she had to face the Agents from Hell. Or at least the Agents who slept together. "Dana, are you all right? Is he . . ." Stonecypher's face fell when she got a look at Scully. "His condition is unchanged," Scully said shakily. "Oh, you scared me. I thought he was . . ." "Carla, why don't we take Dana down to the cafeteria and get her something to eat." He took Scully's hand and smiled at her. "You didn't get lunch before you left the hotel, and I bet you haven't eaten anything since you've been here," Mike interjected, saving Scully from hearing Stonecypher give voice to her worst nightmare. She wasn't really hungry, but it beat sitting and listening to more of Stonecypher and Kinsley's sex life, so Scully agreed. They convinced her to get something other than coffee, so she took a tuna sandwich and an apple. She ate half the sandwich and left the rest to sit on her plate. The apple remained untouched. Carla picked at her salad and watched every move Scully made, as if expecting her to burst into flames, or tears. Kinsley was oblivious, a state Scully assumed he occupied frequently, and wolfed down half of a roast beef sandwich before she'd even had two bites. "Man, this is tough meat," he said, chewing with some difficulty. "Guess they never heard of meat tenderizer." "I read that meat tenderizer is nothing more than a muscle relaxant," Carla said causally, picking at a cherry tomato. "Well, not exactly," Scully said, wiping her mouth on a paper napkin. "Actually, a muscle relaxant would . . ." She stared off into space, leaving the two other agents waiting for the rest of the sentence. When it looked like she'd completely left the planet, Carla shook her shoulder. "Dana? Dana, are you all right?" "Muscle relaxant," Scully repeated. "That would explain it. It would account for the suppressed respiration, even the cardiac arrhythmia. The muscles are so relaxed they aren't performing their assigned functions!" "Do you have any idea what she's talking about?" Kinsley asked, never taking his eyes off Scully. "Not a clue," Stonecypher assured him. "Maybe we should call someone," she added in a whisper. "I have to get up to Mulder. I know what's wrong with him," Scully said and was out of her seat and to the door before either agent could say another word. "And you said she said they aren't . . ." "She's lying. It's obvious. They're doing it like bunnies," Stonecypher said with a shake of her head. "Maybe she said that so you wouldn't win the pool," Kinsley said and gently rubbed his hand over Carla's arm. She turned to him and gave him a brilliant smile. "Hey, what say we head back to the hotel and try out that in-room Jacuzzi?" "Think it's OK to leave?" Mike asked. At her raised eyebrow, he licked his lip. "I'll pull the car around." "No, Mike. I'll walk out to the car with you." Mulder was getting scared. Scully had left and all of a sudden there were others in the room. He heard a voice he hadn't heard before and after a few minutes picked up the fact that this was a new doctor, a specialist who had been called in for a consultation. He knew all too well that meant more tests because that's all specialists were ever good for. He dreaded any more pokes. The X rays hadn't been that much of a problem, but when they stuck needles in his skin, he could feel them. If anything, because of the lose of his sight and ability to move, he felt them about a hundred times more than usual. "I think we need a lumbar puncture, just to rule out meningitis," the new voice said. "Should we wait for his partner?" Mulder remembered that voice, it was the nurse that had been in a couple of times already. "She signed a release for medical tests, didn't she? I see no reason to wait." Mulder would have groaned if he could have. This bastard was hell bent on jamming a metal rod into his spine and wasn't even going to wait for Scully to be in the room. Then another thought occurred to him. If they still thought he was in a coma, they probably wouldn't worry about numbing the area. Oh shit! He could tell he was being rolled, simply by the change in positions and the sounds around him. The nurse was still talking to the doctor, telling him each step of the procedure as she completed it. Mulder was waiting for the part where lidocaine was administered, but that part seemed to be missing. There was incredible pressure on his back when suddenly . . . "What are you doing?" The pressure let up and then left completely. Mulder wished he could sigh, but settled for just lying there in relief. "Get out of this room! Who let you back here?" "I'm a medical doctor and his partner. Why wasn't I informed that you intended to do a lumbar puncture?" "You sighed the release, uh . . ." "Dr. Scully," Mulder heard the nurse supply. Was that a little touch of 'boy, are you gonna get it' he heard in the nurse's voice? "Look, there is no need for a lumbar puncture. I know what the problem is. A toxin from the creature that attacked my partner contained a muscle relaxer. I think, if you look closely at the EEG, you'll see that Agent Mulder isn't in a coma. His muscles are just very relaxed." "That's insane!" the new doctor huffed, but Mulder could tell the guy was on the ropes and Scully was going to finish him off soon. Don't give him any quarter, Scully, Mulder mused with delight. "I suggest we bring in a toxicologist who can identify the toxin and find an antidote to the effects," Scully said and Mulder would have given his right hand to see her squaring off against the overbearing doctor. Listening to her was well worth being nothing more than a lump of flesh, for the moment. 11:45 am Mulder stretched, and felt every sore muscle and tender spot on his body. It felt wonderful. Reaching around on the bed, he finally came up with the television remote and flipped on a channel. Jerry Springer. Click. He was sliding through the rest of the channels, looking for the elusive ESPN when Scully tapped on his door and he waved her in. "There is nothing good on Orlando TV," he informed her as he passed the Disney channel for the second time. "Well, your new doctor thinks you can leave tomorrow morning, so you don't have to endure it that much longer," she said with a grin. "Where were you?" he asked, as she took his hand and started to stroke the back of it. "I had to check us out of the hotel. The conference ended this morning and the rooms go up to $280 a night. I was informed that any additional nights charges would be our responsibility." His jaw dropped. "They get almost 300 bucks a night? My God, Scully, we are in the wrong business!" There was another tap on the door and both agents looked up to see Agents Kinsley and Stonecypher come in. Stonecypher was carrying a huge bouquet of flowers and Kinsley had three Mylar balloons attached to an empty wine bottle. "We hated to think that you two missed the dinner dance, so we brought you some of the decorations," Carla explained as she put the flowers on the windowsill and Mike placed the balloons on the dresser by Mulder's bed. "Wow, I guess this has been a really bad experience for you, huh, Agent Mulder? We'll never get you back at another conference!" Kinsley said with a shake of his head. Stonecypher stepped over next to him and reached for his hand. Without saying a word, he smiled and brought her hand up to his mouth for a quick kiss. Scully turned away, and Mulder noticed. Then she released his hand and that hit him like a ton of bricks. He reached over the blankets and took her hand in his, giving it a squeeze and causing her to look up at him in shocked surprise. "I don't know, Mike. There are still some areas of communication I think we might need to work on," he said solemnly. Stonecypher picked up on the hint. "Well, have a safe trip back. And keep in touch." She pulled a protesting Kinsley out the door. "What was that all about?" Scully grilled him as the two other agents left. "Scully, we really need to talk," he said, and lifted her hand to his mouth for a kiss, in perfect imitation of Agent Kinsley. The end.