Title:  New Millennium:  Finding Mulder
Author:  Vickie Moseley
Email:  vickiemoseley1978@yahoo.com
Summary:  Part 4 in the Mulder abduction arc for the
series New Millennium.
Category:  SkA, SA, MT, CD (but nobody really essential)
Rating:  Light R
Disclaimer:  Yeah, that one.  Again?  Why??  OK, but it's
so stupid!  No infringement on copyrighted material
intended.  There, are you happy now?  Then quit smirking!
Archive:  yes
The stories in this series are available at Ten's
website, thanks to the wonderful Arria, at:
http://bitter-moon.com/tenxffic/index2.html
Comments:  This is not the real 'end' of the story, it's
just the end of this arc.  Rest assured that issues will
be raised, ideas will be expanded and events will be
revisited in the future.
Dedicated to Ten, who has given me ample reason to keep
this story going much longer than I ever intended.  You
sure you don't want to meet my son, the Marine? <g>

Finding Mulder 
By Vickie Moseley

At first, I wasn't sure if I should even tell her.  She's
been so strong, keeping up appearances.  It wasn't easy
for her to walk into the Hoover the first day after his
disappearance, but there she was, gold band on her
finger, declaring a marriage that was already months old,
but a total surprise to the water cooler grapevine.  The
rumors started flying immediately after, or so Kim
apprised me.  They had a fight, he took off.  He had
gambling debts and the mob went after him.  Or the best
of them all--he was abducted by aliens.  I knew the last
one almost killed her, because it was the one that
usually provoked the biggest laughs in the lunchroom.
Dana Scully-Mulder, as she was now referring to herself,
was made of strong stuff, but no one is that strong.

So when I got a report that a kid had seen a UFO out near
Sharpsburg, Maryland, and just a few yards later, he
found an injured woman, I threw it in the trash.  She
didn't need more lights in the sky.  Scully needed one
thing--her husband back at her side.  But in the end, I
grabbed the paper out of the trashcan, straightened it on
the edge of the desk, and did the right thing.  I pulled
on my suit jacket and went down to pay a visit to the X
Files Division.

I had tried to get her to move her office upstairs.  That
was the first day she came back without him.  I realized
later what reserve and restraint she'd practiced on me.
I walked out of there shaken, but physically unharmed.
The woman was not someone to take lightly.  The news of
her pregnancy was still very new to me and I made the
horrible mistake of assuming it would slow her down.  If
anything, it made her more resilient, stronger.  But I
was the only one to see that.

After a few weeks, the higher ups required her to take on
a new partner.  At first, I feared for my life when I
told her.  Luckily, she decided not to kill the messenger
and accepted her fate.  A little too quickly, I was to
understand a week later, when the first partner was
shaking in my office, transfer papers in hand, demanding
to be released from 'that hellion' in the basement.  Of
course, I granted the poor man's request, but I had to
assign a new partner within the day.  I chose a recent
Academy graduate, Andrea Michels, with a masters degree
in chemical engineering and physics, a woman who was
making a name for herself already in the FBI.  I figured
they would either get along, or kill each other before
the day was out.  So far, they're getting along.

Michels was in the only occupant of the office when I
arrived in the basement.  "Is Agent Scully around?" I
asked, noting that she wasn't at her usual post, sitting
in Mulder's chair, guarding it from any and all invaders.

"She went to grab some crackers.  The morning sickness is
really bad this morning.  Is there something I can help
you with until Agent Scully-Mulder returns, AD Skinner?"

I shook my head.  They were still very formal with each
other, though I guess that was to be expected.  But it
surprised me that Agent Michels knew about the baby.
Still, two women, in close proximity and one with morning
sickness--guess you don't have to be an FBI agent to
figure that one out.  Still, it was disconcerting that
Scully wasn't there.  I certainly wasn't intending to
tell Agent Michels my news.  "No, I'll just wait for her
here," I said.

I didn't have long to wait.  Scully arrived, looking
slightly pale, but with a soda cup and a couple of packs
of saltines in one hand and some envelopes in the other.
"Agent Michels,  I picked up the mail on the way down,"
she was saying and then she looked up and saw me.  "AD
Skinner?  What brings you down here?"

I glanced over at Michels.  She caught the hint.  "I have
a dentist's appointment this morning, Agent Scully.
Unless you need me to stay, sir?" she directed my way.

I shook my head and she exited the room.  It was just
Scully and I.

"If you're going to ream me out for not playing nice, we
worked that out. She stays on her side of the room. . ."

"Scully," I said, interrupting her.  "This isn't about
your work relationship with Agent Michels."  I held up
the paper I'd carried downstairs in my pocket.  "I have a
lead.  There was a UFO sighting and a injured person was
found nearby."

Her eyes grew large.  "Mulder?"

More than anything, I wanted to give her an affirmative
answer.  But I knew it could very possibly be nothing at
all.  "I'm sorry, but no.  But according to the witness
who found her, it's someone you're encountered before.
Teresa Hoese.  She was found just outside Sharpsburg,
Maryland."

She reached for the file and I handed it to her and
scanned the pages.  "Richie.  Richie Szalay found her.
He's a boy Mulder and I talked to in Oregon.  His best
friend had been abducted."  She creased the paper between
her fingers.  "Sharpsburg.  That's not even that far from
here."

"Not quite two hours," I agreed.

She looked up at me, and for the first time in weeks, I
saw hope in her eyes.  "Then what are we waiting for?"
She stepped around the desk and started for the door.  I
caught her sleeve and she stopped and looked at me again.

"Scully.  This could be nothing," I warned her.

"And it could be everything, Walter.  If I don't look
everywhere, how will I find him?"

All I could do was follow her out to my car.

We interviewed Richie at the Holiday Inn Express where he
was staying.  He'd been following UFO sightings since his
friend Gary Cory had disappeared, four nights before
Mulder was taken.  We didn't mention that Mulder's
friends in Anacostia had been keeping track of UFO
activity since his disappearance.  Apparently, Richie was
ahead of their game.  He didn't have much to add to the
original report, except to say it was the first time he'd
found a body after seeing the lights.

Our next stop was the hospital.  When we entered Teresa
Hoese's room, I almost lost it.  It was obvious that she
had been horribly tortured.  She was barely hanging on.
The nurse said she'd asked once about her baby, but had
lapsed into a coma shortly afterward.  The doctor didn't
hold a lot of hope for her recovery.

Scully was pretty shaken when we left the hospital.  We'd
promised Richie we'd stick around and go out to the field
with him when it was dark.  Just like in the movies, all
the real action had taken place at night.   I wanted
Scully to get some rest, she seemed completely drained
after visiting Teresa.  The best I could get her to do
was lie down on one of the beds in Richie's room while
the young man and I grabbed a cup of coffee and drank it
on the little patio by the pool.  She'd only been resting
an hour when she came out of the room, fighting tears.
Richie had gone for a refill and she sat down in the
chair he'd vacated.

"What if he's dead, Walter?  What if we only find a
body?"  I got out of my chair and knelt down beside her,
pulling her into my arms.  She accepted the comfort for a
moment before pulling back.

"I had a bad dream," she explained.

It had gotten dark in just the time she'd been asleep.  I
could barely see her in the deep shadows cast by the
vapor lights.  Up above us, stars were just coming out.
They seemed to capture her attention.

"I once had a talk with Mulder about starlight.  How it's
billion of years old."  She wiped at her cheeks and
looked back up at the stars.  "Stars that are now dead
whose light is still traveling through time.  It won't
die, that light."  She turned her eyes to meet mine and I
almost wept at the loss and sorrow reflected there.
"Maybe that's the only thing that never dies.  He said
that's where souls reside.  I hope he's right."

I pulled her into my arms again and I could feel her
tears soaking through my shirt.  "If you're trying to
prepare yourself, I want you to stop.  Nothing says we're
going to stumble over him in a field.  Nothing says he
won't be fine."

I don't know if it was my words, or Richie's reappearance
with his now filled coffee cup, but she pulled herself
together.  Before Richie had a chance to sit, she stood
up and looked at her watch.

"Gentleman, shouldn't we be leaving for the viewing
area?" she said, and it was as if she and I had never
talked about her nightmare.

Antietam National Cemetery
Sharpsburg, Maryland
10:45 pm

I'd been to Anteitam Battlefield and Cemetery many times.
When I was a Marine and stationed at Cherry Point, we
would come north on the 96ers--three days off on shore
liberty that every Marine dreams of.  I found Antietam on
one Veteran's Day weekend and made a point to come back
again through the years when I settled in the Washington,
DC area.

Sharpsburg was a quiet little village during the Civil
War.  Nestled in the hills of Western Maryland, its
rolling fields of corn grew with military precision.
Before.  Before the Union troops under the command of
Major General George McClellan confronted the northern
invaders from the Confederate states following General
Robert E. Lee.  Over 23,000 men died here on September
16, 17, and 18, 1862, the largest number of casualties of
any US military engagement before or since.

The place has always given me the shivers.  I have always
been able to feel the heat of the battle while I'm
standing near the lonely monuments, hear the cries of the
wounded from the gorge that was once Bloody Lane.  Stuff
Mulder would never tire of hearing me talk about, I'm
sure.  Images of an unknown collective consciousness that
I never want to forget.  As we pulled into the deserted
parking lot, just outside the steel and wood gates
declaring the park closed for the night, I got the
feeling this place would take on new meaning after that
night.  The thought filled me with dread.

We sat in the car, none of us talking.  Richie had a pair
of binoculars and he would scan the skyline, looking for
the lights he'd seen just two nights before.  I watched
Scully and ached to tell her it would all be all right.
A small part of me wished that this would turn out to be
the wild goose chase my rational side was telling me it
was.  But the larger part of me knew, knew with a cold
fear, that this would be a night I was going to revisit a
thousand times in my life, always in my nightmares.

I'd just glanced at the dial of my watch and noted it was
nearing midnight when Richie stiffened in his seat beside
me.  "There, on the western horizon.  Just above those
trees.  See it?" he asked and shoved the glasses into my
hands.  I adjusted them quickly and steered them in the
direction he was pointing.  Over the tree line was a
light, dancing like a firefly.  It was coming toward us,
and faster than I could blink, it was right overhead.

The light was so bright it hurt my eyes, not like a
flash, but like a giant beam searing my retinas.  I
slammed my eyes shut so I didn't see her leave, but I
heard the back door of the car open and shut and knew
Scully was out there.  Alone.

I yelled at her to wait, but knew in my heart she
wouldn't listen.  She'd hopped the fence like she was at
the Olympics and hit the ground running.  The light was
still very intense, but seemed pointed in a different
direction.  It lit up the battlefield as bright as a
hundred search beacons and made the monuments cast
terrifying shadows.  And then, it was gone.  In a blink
of an eye we were thrown into complete darkness.  Not
even the parking lot light for a guide, their photo
sensors had gone out from the brightness they equated to
midday.

I managed to scramble over the fence and started out in
the general direction Scully had taken.  My eyes took
some time to adjust and I stumbled over something.
Rubbing my eyes and looking down, the full moon finally
gave me enough illumination to realize I'd just fallen
over a body.  I fell to the ground and finally remembered
I had a miniature maglight in my pocket.  I shone the
light on the face before me.  It wasn't Mulder.  I'd
never seen the face before.  But without even touching
the body, I knew it was dead.  The flesh was already
tearing away from the bone.  I turned and forced my
rebellious stomach to obey my commands.  Then I heard
Richie shouting.

"Over here, by the lane!  Oh my god, there are dozens of
them!"

I crossed the 5 acres in a fast sprint and slid to a stop
at the edge of the rut that was renamed Bloody Lane back
in 1862 and earned that name again that night.  I flashed
my light over the lane and counted 35 bodies.  My heart
sank.  I reached in my pocket and grabbed out my cell
phone, dialing 911 and requested immediate assistance and
the nearest Medical Examiner.

Scully was already at one end of the lane.  With her own
flashlight she was checking out each body, carefully
turning the faces to the light and then gently, but
quickly, moving to the next.  Her own face, when the
light happened to flick up and reveal it, was cast in
stone, detached, determined.  I watched her as I
explained to the dispatcher what the situation was and
what assistance was needed.  Once off the phone with the
operator, I started on at the other end of the lane.

I didn't have to go far.  His was the third body I found.
My heart stopped as I knelt down beside him.  Shining the
light on his features, I almost didn't recognize him.
His skin hung on his bones, he looked completely
emaciated.  I reached a shaking hand out and placed two
fingers at the carotid artery of his neck.  Nothing.  No
sensation.  Only cold, lifeless flesh.  I felt my heart
beat for a moment before it crumbled in my chest.  And
then I saw her.

Scully must have seen my care with this body, she must
have seen the recognition on my face.  Or maybe she just
knew I'd found him, in that way they've always had with
each other--the connection they always shared.  I looked
up to see her running toward me, hair whipping in the
wind, light dancing off the trees and the sides of the
rutted roadbed.  She skipped over other bodies as if they
were hopscotch lines.  And then she was there.

"How bad is he?" she shouted, even though I was right
beside her.  "Walter, how bad is he?"

I couldn't answer her.  I sat on my haunches in
dumbstruck silence.  She pushed me aside.  I heard the
first siren on the road, probably a mile or two off.  At
least help would be there soon.

"Dana, he's gone."  I don't know where I found the
strength to say the words, but they came out of my mouth
and felt like ground glass against my teeth and on my
tongue.  "Please, Dana, let me cover the body."  I was
ripping off my shirt, leaving me in just a tee shirt
underneath.  I needed to cover the body, I needed to
cover the face I remembered so well.  I needed to hide
the evidence of this tragedy, not just from my eyes, but
from hers as well.

"Walter, go direct the EMS over here," she said, stopping
me from covering the face and taking the shirt to cover
his torso.

"Dana, they can't help him now," I told her, choking on
my tears.  I grabbed her arm and pulled her up beside me,
taking her shoulders in my hands so that she was forced
to look me in the eyes.  "Dana.  He's gone.  I know it's
not what you want, but it's the truth and nothing can
change it.  He's gone."

There was a rattle behind us and I turned to see
flashlights and the men carrying them, gurney after
gurney.  They broke off in crews, descending on the
bodies like angels to take them to their final resting
place.  A group headed toward us while I was still trying
to get through to Dana.

She looked at me finally and her face disintegrated into
tears.  She started sobbing and I clutched her close to
my chest, hoping to ease some of the pain she was
feeling.  Then, she stiffened in my arms and I thought
maybe I'd crossed some invisible line, maybe I'd offended
her.

She tore out of my grasp and was down on the ground
beside him again.  I could see what this was.  This was
denial.  She couldn't accept that she'd found him only to
lose him so soon.  I started to reach for her, but she
batted my arm away.

"Stethoscope!  Give me a goddamned stethoscope!" she
screamed.  One of the startled EMS took the instrument
out of his back pocket and handed it to her.  She didn't
even bother with a sign of gratitude, she stuck the
earpieces in place and started examining Mulder's chest.
No one breathed for several seconds.  I knew it was
hopeless, but was powerless to stop her.

Then she sat back on her heels and smiled up at me before
drawing down her professional mask.  "There's a heart
beat.  It's faint.  Get O2 on this man, start saline full
out.  I want monitors on him for transport.  Get his
vitals, BP is likely to be quite low.  I want him covered
and transported first, before anyone else, got that?"

The EMS personnel stared at her for a moment without
moving.  Then it was my turn.  I pulled my badge out of
my pocket and shoved it in the face of the technician
closest to me.  "I am an Assistant Director with the FBI.
This woman is an FBI agent and a certified Medical
Doctor.  The patient is also an FBI agent, injured in the
line of duty.  You will obey her every command relative
to his care and you will do it now or I will have you up
on criminal charges.  Is that perfectly clear?"

Suddenly, everyone started moving.  It was like a ballet,
each team member going about his or her appointed task.
I pulled Scully back a few feet so we were out of their
way.  In mere minutes, they had Mulder on the gurney and
ready to take to the waiting ambulance.  She immediately
started after them.  I had to pull twice on her sleeve to
get her to come back beside me.

"I have to go, sir.  I'll meet you at the hospital."

"Dana.  How . . ? I felt his neck, I couldn't detect a
pulse.  His skin . . ."

"He spoke to me, sir.  I heard him just as clear as day.
He called my name.  He said Scully.  I knew then he
wasn't dead, just very, very sick.  We would have buried
a live man, sir.  We would have killed him preparing him
for burial."  She smiled at me, like it was some huge
cosmic joke and she just figured out the punch line.  "I
have to go, sir.  They'll leave without me."

I nodded, too afraid of what I might say to try and keep
her there.  I had been there the whole time and never
heard a thing.  I didn't hear Mulder call her name.
Relief and dread were warring inside me as I watched her
scramble up the side of the rut and run after the gurney.
I tore my eyes from her and looked around.  Upon seeing
what had happened with Mulder, the other EMS teams were
checking harder on each of the bodies.  Some were
obviously beyond help, but there were several others
being hurriedly loaded onto gurneys and rushed to waiting
ambulances.

As much as I wanted to go with Scully and Mulder, I knew
I had to stay behind.  There was work for me to do here,
assisting with the others.

xXx

Northeast Georgetown Medical Center
5:34 am

I had watched the last of the ambulances pull away at a quarter to
3.  Total body count, 43, including Mulder.  Total dead, 29.  Most
had succumbed to starvation and dehydration, or at least that was
the first blush assessment of the team from the Virginia State
Police Medical Examiners Office.  There were signs of torture on
all the victims.  We had a devil of a time keeping the press at
bay.  Word travels fast when a National Monument is involved.
Fortunately, it was because the 'dump' occurred on land owned by
the US Government that I was able to evoke the Justice Department
and keep control of the situation.  The FBI press Dobermans kept
the vultures on the other side of the gate.

When I was certain the forensics team was going over the
battlefield with a fine tooth-comb, I hopped into my car and drove
like a bat out of hell back to DC.

Mulder had been choppered to DC within an hour of arriving at the
small country hospital in Sharpsburg.  That was all the
information I'd been given and it came through channels.  I
assumed Scully was either with him or had arrived shortly after.
I really couldn't foresee a scenario where she would be sitting
idly by while her husband was rushed off to another medical
center.  She probably flew the damned helicopter.

I was exhausted by the time I made it to the Emergency Department
at Northeast Georgetown.  That hospital has gotten way to familiar
to me.  I couldn't help remembering Scully's battle with cancer,
having to drag Mulder away from her sick bed to answer to a murder
investigation and his own faked suicide.  He hated me with every
fiber in his being that night.  I hated myself almost as much.
Even then I could see how much they meant to each other.  I thank
God that I was able to see them finally admit that to themselves
and me, too, though the revelation was one I would have foregone,
considering the circumstances.  Remembering the look on Mulder's
face as he tried to cover his bride's naked body, ignoring his own
state of undress is possibly the only memory that could have
caused me to smile as I walked through the hospital to find them.

But I wasn't sure what I was going to face once I found them.  The
ER desk was kind enough to direct me to the CCU, where Mulder had
been admitted.  I knew that floor too well, having spent a night
there myself.  But at least he was still on the hospital's
records.  And it wasn't in the morgue.  I breathed a sigh of
relief.

I was surprised that the nurse let me in the room.  Usually, it's
one visitor to a patient.  But the doctor who was treating Mulder
had been standing at the desk and had given the OK.  Right before
he took me aside and told me the bad news.

Mulder was just barely alive, I was informed without sugar
coating.  His brain functions were almost non-existent, he wasn't
breathing on his own and his heart had become increasingly erratic
as the night grew into day.  The doctor's face told me all I
needed to know.  Mulder was dying.  And from the sounds of things,
it might not take that long.

"There's nothing you can do?" I asked.  OK, I begged.  I couldn't
go in there, knowing that her worst fears were becoming reality.
I had to have something to hold onto, something I could give her,
anything.

"To be honest, Mr. Skinner, we have no idea what caused Agent
Mulder to be in this condition.  He has obviously had extensive
and invasive tests performed on him, but those incisions appear to
be healed.  CT scans of his entire body show no internal injuries,
no abnormalities that would produce such a life threatening
condition.  Aside from his near starvation and the fact that he
was severely dehydrated upon arrival, there really isn't anything
physically wrong with him."

"No drugs, no poison?"  I couldn't let any rock go unturned.  "A
virus, perhaps?"

The doctor's eyes showed his amusement at my backseat medicine,
but he did me the courtesy of not mentioning it aloud.  "We've run
every tox screen and blood work up possible.  Nothing has come up,
so far."

I chewed on my lip.  "His wife.  Does she know?"

He nodded solemnly.  "It was only due to her insistence that we
ran the second tox screens and blood work.  She's been kept up to
date on all our efforts."

"How is she taking it?"  I knew the answer, but wanted to have a
second opinion of what I was going to find in that room.

The doctor looked off for a moment, gathering his thoughts.
"She's aware of his condition.  She refuses to give up hope.  He's
met the criteria to invoke his living will, but she's already
signed the waiver to negate it.  She's going over the results of
the last blood work right now."  He allowed a slight smile of
admiration to light his face.  "If there's anything we missed, I'm
positive she'll find it."

I nodded and shook the man's hand.  He patted me on the shoulder
and directed me toward Mulder's room.  Then I stood there and
tried to find the courage to face her, to face them.

If I'd only watched over Mulder more closely in Oregon, he would
strutting around the office, the proud papa to be right now.  He
would be all over me to put Scully on a teaching position to keep
her out of the field, all without her knowledge.  He would be
bugging the hell out of me with another outlandish 302 to
Timbuktu, Wyoming and expect the Bureau to reimburse him for the
cell phone he lost last week.

Instead, he was dying, with his pregnant wife by his side.  And
the hell of it was, he didn't know how much he had to live for.

I couldn't get up the nerve to open the door.  As I was about to
turn and walk to the elevators, Scully called to me and touched my
arm.

"Walter, I was wondering where you were," she greeted me with a
welcoming grin.  "I was going to make sure the nurses would let me
know if you called.  We don't have a phone in the room."

"Scully, I . . . I'm . . ."  I didn't have a chance to tell her
how sorry I was before she dragged me into the room.  My eyes
found Mulder immediately, though only because I knew where to
look.  He was surrounded by every piece of medical equipment I'd
ever seen and some I'd never seen before.  The respirator was
hissing, the heart monitor was beating, but not a very steady
rhythm.  There were numbers and lines on the other instruments.  I
felt my knees go weak, but I locked them and kept standing.

Meanwhile, Scully was all tired smiles.  "He's banged up, but not
too badly.  There were tests," she said and her eyes clouded for a
moment.  "But that's all behind us.  Now, I'm just going over the
results of his blood work and we're waiting for him to decide to
wake up."

"Scully," I choked.  "Dana, I talked to the doctor outside."

She nodded as she motioned for me to take a chair near the wall
while she sat next to the head of the bed.  "Dr. Rover.  Nice guy
but he has absolutely no idea what he's dealing with," she
dismissed him with a wave of her hand.

"He said . . . , the doctor said that Mulder had met the criteria
. . ."

She shook her head defiantly.  "Oh, no.  I'm not making that
mistake.  Walter, I know you didn't come to the hospital when I
was found after my abduction, but have you ever read the reports?"

I swallowed.  I hated to admit that I'd skimmed most of those
reports.  They were riddled with so much medicalese and I
understood very little of it.  But I did remember one section.
She had met the criteria set forth in her Living Will and all life
support had been discontinued.  But somehow, she'd survived.

"I can't take the chance that luck will be with us again," she
said, guessing my thoughts.

"Dana, have you had any sleep?" I asked.

She shrugged.  "I napped here, for a while.  I've been here
before, this chair is almost comfortable, for once.  I'm fine,
Walter."

"But the baby.  Surely this can't be good for the baby," I
insisted.

Her eyes flashed as she looked over at me.  "Walter, I've spent
every waking moment of the last 6 weeks looking for him.  Please
don't ask me to leave him now that I've found him."

I flinched at the furor of her quiet voice.  She wasn't about to
leave him now, not until all the machines were quiet, all efforts
proven futile.  But at least I could do something for her.

"I'm going to get you something to eat," I told her as I got up
and headed for the door.  I stopped when I realized I had no idea
what she would eat.  "No coffee, right?"

She smiled at me.  "Herbal tea, lemon if they have it.  And a
bagel, whole wheat.  Cream cheese, not butter.  Any piece of
fruit."  She caught herself, obviously embarrassed that she'd been
giving her order like I was the counter clerk at McDonald's.
"Walter, I'm sorry . . ."

"Dana, if I can't do anything else, at least I can make sure you
eat.  So let me get down there before all the good whole wheat
bagels are gone."  I gave her a smile, or I hoped it looked like a
smile, and headed down the hall.

It took longer than I expected.  Apparently I got there right at
break time and I had to wait in line for 15 minutes before I could
get the food.  Then, the only fruit they offered was a banana that
I think was left over from the Persian Gulf War, so I made one of
the cooks go back and find me an apple that wasn't so pathetic.
After all that, it was a good 45 minutes before I got back up to
the room.

All hell was breaking out as I got off the elevator.  The door to
Mulder's room was open, they were pushing his bed out into the
hall.  Dana was conferring with the doctor with a worried
expression on her face.  I stood there, provisions in hand, and
couldn't get my mouth to form my questions.

"Walter.  I'm glad you're back.  We're taking Mulder down to an
OR.  I need to run out.  I was hoping you could drive me."

"OR?" I asked, totally confused.

"Yes.  They're going to be prepping him down there.  I need to get
something and come right back.  I don't want to waste time
parking.  Please, can you drive me?"  She looked perfectly sane
but what she was proposing was bordering on insanity.  What could
she possibly need that I couldn't go out and bring back.

"Dana, if you need something, let me run out," I offered.

She was shaking her head before I could get the words all the way
out.  "No, I know exactly what I want and where it's located.  We
have to hurry."

By the time I turned around she was already opening the fire
stairs and leaving me behind.  I caught up with her on the second
floor landing.

"Dana," I said, grabbing her arm.  "Where are we going?"

"To my apartment.  We have to hurry."

I fished my keys out of my pocket and we jogged from the lobby to
the visitors parking lot.

She didn't say a word on the way to her apartment.  I was itching
to know what she was getting, but I was too busy negotiating the
Georgetown streets to ask.  When we made it to her door, she
didn't bother to let the car come to a full stop before she was
out and running up the front steps.  In under 10 minutes she was
back in the car and urging me to get going.

"Scully, what did you get?" I asked her.  From what I could see,
she didn't have anything in her hands when she came back.

She thought for a minute and I almost regretted asking.  We've had
a good relationship while Mulder has been away, but I think there
are still times when she wonders whose side I'm really on.  This
was one of those times.  Finally, she reached into her pocket and
pulled out a vial.  It was one of those metal cases that keep
liquids cold and it wasn't that large.  I must have looked
perplexed because without prompting she explained.

"It's the vaccine he gave me in Antarctica.  Mulder carried it
back in his pants pocket.  We were saving what was left.  I was
going to examine the contents, see if it could be replicated, if
it really worked on the virus, but something always came up."  She
drew in a deep breath and looked out the passenger side window, I
guess because what she was going to tell me was too painful to say
to my face.

"He's dying, Walter.  You were right.  And I was helping that
along.  But this," she turned to me and held the little vial in
between her thumb and index fingers, "this will save him."

"Scully, are you sure?"  We were one block from the hospital and I
was trying not to run any lights, but something told me I
shouldn't really care.

She looked over at me and I had my answer, but she gave me a
verbal one, anyway.

"I'm sure, Walter.  I'm very sure."

The next two hours were a blur of rushing and stopping.  First we
ran up to the Surgical Floor where Scully left me behind as she
went to scrub up.  I remembered the bagel and apple tucked in my
jacket pocket, god knows what happened to the carton of milk.  I
got myself a cup of coffee from the waiting room pot and ate the
bagel.  I decided it shouldn't go to waste and it looked like it
would turn to a brick before she bothered to eat it.  Then, I did
something I should have done hours before.  I went to the phone
and dialed Maggie Scully's number.

The frustrating part about getting an answering machine is that
there is no one to strangle.  I couldn't leave a message saying
what I was calling about, I just hoped that hearing my voice would
be enough incentive for her to call me back immediately.  And
since cell phones were strictly forbidden in the surgical wing of
the hospital, I was forced to leave the general hospital number
with directions for which floor to call to find me.  I knew I
would be giving the woman three different kinds of heart attack,
but I had no choice in the matter.  I just prayed she'd call me
back.

I did get through to the office.  When I glanced at my watch I
discovered it was almost 9 am and Kim was beginning to worry.  I
did some checking on the forensics team I'd called out to the
battlefield and found what I expected--nothing.  Just bodies and
no explanation.  My frustration level was hitting the red zone.

After another three cups of coffee, which did nothing for my
frustration, Scully came out of the surgical theatre with a grim
expression.

"We've administered the vaccine.  While I was at it, I was able to
convince the doctor to try the same vaccine on Teresa Hoese.  We
were too late.  She died a few minutes ago."

I could see it was taking every ounce of strength for her to tell
me this and that if I said or did anything, she would lose all
control.  I stood firm and acted as if she were just giving me a
report on an investigation.  She flashed me her thanks in a look
and then continued.

"Mulder is holding his own.  His temp dropped dramatically when
the vaccine hit his blood stream, but his vitals, his heart rate,
blood pressure, oxygenation all improved.  We were able to
extubate in surgery.  They're taking him to recovery for an hour
for observation and then he'll be back in his room."  She let out
a breath of exhaustion.  "What about the others?  I had no word on
any one except Teresa."

I chewed on my lip.  "They're all dead, Scully.  Mulder was the
only survivor."

Her face started to crumble, but she held on to that small crumb
of reserve that only Scully can control.  I knew I had to get her
out of there, in some way.

"If he's in recovery, let's get you and that little guy something
to eat," I told her.

She was about to protest when her stomach growled.  She took the
hint gracefully, with a wry smile.  "Well, if nothing else, all
this excitement seems to have abated my morning sickness."

I hid my smile.  If anything, Mulder's irreverent sense of humor
had rubbed off on her, and that appeared to be a good thing.  "We
better hurry, before the next break time," I said and took her
elbow to make sure she accompanied me to the cafeteria.

When we sat down, Dana reached over and took my hand in hers.
"Thank you, Walter," she said to me with tears in her eyes.

I felt the burn of stomach acids at the back of my throat.  I
didn't want her thanks, surely didn't expect to get them.  More
than that, I didn't think I deserved them.

"I didn't do anything, Dana," I reminded her.  Well, that wasn't
entirely true.  I was the one who lost her husband in the first
place.  If I had been more on the ball, if I'd been following him
more closely instead of playing with those stupid infrared snares,
maybe they both could have avoided the last six weeks.  But
hindsight is always 20/20 and I know now that I screwed up.  I
should be punished, not thanked.

"Walter," she said, giving my hand a squeeze.  "You _did_ do
everything you could.  It wasn't your fault he was taken.  But you
have been a wonderful friend to him since that time.  You've
looked after me, as much as I would let you," she said with
another smile.  "But more than that, you believed.  You let your
own defenses down and believed that report when it came over your
desk.  You believed enough to tell me about it, even though I know
that was probably not your first thought."

I blushed at that comment, remembering how true that was.

"And more than that, you helped me go out there.  You found him,
Walter.  You found him and you helped me bring him home.  Even if
the outcome of last night were different," she said, tears now
streaming down her face, "you were there to help me and him, in
any way you could.  The fact that he's alive this morning we owe
to you.  So please accept my thanks."  She ended by leaning over
and gently kissing my cheek.

If we hadn't been in a crowded cafeteria, I would have broken down
like a baby.

At just that moment, my pager went off and I knew I needed to get
back to the office.  Scully assured me that she would be fine, but
I insisted on calling her a couple of times to check on her.  I
did finally get to the hospital later that night, almost outside
of visiting hours.  I must have just missed Mrs. Scully, the nurse
said she'd been there earlier.

As I opened the door, I could see tears on her cheeks, but then I
saw Mulder turn his head toward her and say something in a hoarse
whisper.  She turned her head slightly and I could see such a
beautiful smile on her face.  It was all I needed to see.  I
silently closed the door, leaving them some time with each other.
I couldn't stop smiling all the way home.

The end