A/N: As I am feeling ill, I've decided to make Scully ill too...If I'm going down, I'm taking someone down with me :P
"It's just a virus..."
Mulder knocked on the door for the third time. At 10am when Scully still hadn't arrived at work OR answered her phone, Mulder gave in and drove over to her apartment. He listened at the door for another couple of seconds, before producing a key out of his pocket and sliding it into the lock. He pushed the door open and walked inside. Scully was laying on the couch, her mouth slightly open, one arm hanging off, her fingers almost scraping the floor. He sighed and rested his hand against her forehead. She had been obviously ill for over a week, but had kept on insisting she was fine and that. She was burning up. He scooped her up, one arm around her waist and the other under her knees. She stirred slightly and opened her eyes. She blinked slowly and tried to focus unsuccessfully on him.
"...Mul...mulde...err..?"
"Yes, shh, I'm here, you're sick, go back to sleep."
"...Kay..."
He smiled at her, as her eyes slipped closed again. He walked into her bedroom and layed her down on top of the sheets. He pulled them down on the other side and plumped up her pillows. He went to move her, but she had already fallen asleep again. Keeping a watchful eye on her, he rifled through her drawers, trying to advert his eyes from the mass of lacy underwear on one side. Finally he pulled out a pair of sleep shorts, and a vest, then turned back to her. Her face was contorted with discomfort, he once again felt her forehead and would swear she was even warmer.
Wetting a wash cloth, he brushed her hair back from her face, and placed the damp cloth there. Her features relaxed slightly and he began to unzip her hoodie. He lifted her up and rested her back against his arm, and tried to maneuver her arms out of it. She whimpered softly.
"Shh, sleep." He murmured, and waited for her breathing slow again. Then even more carefully he pulled the hoodie away from her body and tossed it to the floor beside his feet. Next he peeled her t-shirt away from her sweaty skin. Pulling it up to her underarms he layed her back down on the bed. He pulled the t-shirt over her head as gently as he could, before unbuttoning her jeans and tugged them down her legs, leaving her exposed in only her underwear. Trying not to look, he unclasped her bra and slid it off her arms, before quickly pulling the vest over her head and stuffing her arms through the right holes, like she was an oversized doll.
"...Muld...der..."
"Shh..."
"What's go...ing onnn..?"
"You're ill, go back to sleep..."
"W...why...are...you...uu...here..?"
"You were really late for work, I got worried."
"Mmm...kay..." She replied sleepily
He began to pull the sleep shorts up her legs. She lifted her hips to help him, then raised her head to watch him curiously.
"What?" He asked "I was being a perfect gentleman!"
She grinned softly at him "Thanks...for b, b, being here..." She yawned.
"Sleep, you need to get better."
"Kay..." She closed her eyes and promptly fell asleep.
He almost laughed at the ease in which she fell asleep, in much the same way that she did on long car journeys or stakeouts. He turned the cloth over, so the cool side was once again resting on her skin. Pulling the sheet up to her waist, he left her room and went to the kitchen. Flicking on the kettle, he pulled a jar of instant coffee off a shelf and spooned some into a mug. Sighing deeply he tried to remember how long she'd been looking ill for. Years. It dawned on him suddenly, he hadn't looked, or most likely felt, completely healthy or well for years. She was generally pale, often had dark circles under her eyes, probably due to the amount of times he had called her at 3am. She needed to rest more, he'd make sure she did, if she wanted to or not. Maybe he book a vacation for her, she must have WEEKS of payed leave to take, depending on how much of it she had used in hospital. He sat on her couch and looked around him. This apartment was the only place he'd ever seen her completely relaxed and calm. She always appeared calm, but he could always tell there was something else bubbling beneath her skin. A vacation was definitely a good idea. Florida maybe, or Miami. Somewhere with a beach, near the sea, she'd like that.
Hoarse coughing woke him from his reverie. Stop thinking about imaginary vacations, he chided himself, and go help her. Snatching up a glass then filling it with water, he dashed into her room, to find her hunched over, almost barking with the severity of the racking coughs. He sat on the bed beside her, and pulled her up straight against him, then passed her the glass.
"...T...thank...sss..." She chocked, sipping the water.
"Are you okay?" He asked, concern flitting across his face.
She nodded, still unable to speak properly through the coughs.
"Are you sure?" He rubbed her back in large circles.
"...Y...yeah..."
He pressed his hand to her forehead, she was still burning up.
"You don't need to stay Mulder, It's only a virus, I'm sure."
"It may be, but it's a bad one, I don't want you to be alone."
"I'll be fine."
"No, I don't think you will be. You'll survive, but you rather obviously feel like crap."
"Muld-"
"I'm staying till you're better, get used to it."
"Okay, okay." She sighed defeatedly
"So, how do you feel? Tell me the truth."
"Horrendous. I have a sore throat, I can't stop coughing, I keep going hot then cold, my head is throbbing and my eyes hurt."
"Sounds bad, have you got any cough medicine?"
"Yeah, bathroom cupboard above the sink."
"Alright, can I get you anything else? Orange juice?"
"Orange juice sounds good, thanks." She smiled slightly at him, then leant back into her pillows.
A few minutes later he returned with a spoon, glass of orange juice and a bottle of cough medicine. He helped Scully to sit up against the headboard the spooned two tablespoons of the treacle-brown liquid into her mouth.
"I feel like I'm six and I flu again." She complained.
"You do have flu, and you're not acting much more mature than a six year old at the moment."
"I'm ill, I'm allowed to be immature."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." He grinned at her
She rolled her eyes and drank a moutfull of her orange juice.
"Sleep Scully."
"Who's the doctor here?"
"Me."
"Shut up." She sighed, her eyelids drooping.
"Okay, shutting up now." He pressed a kiss to her forehead and left the room, allowing her to think he hadn't noticed the smile that had crossed her lips.
He went to check on her every 15 minutes or so. Her temperature was about 95, but wasn't changing. That was until about 1pm anyway, her temperature fluctuated to 103 and she began to murmur indistinctly.
"Scully?"
"No...no, no, no! Please god no!"
"Scully!"
"Please don't! Oh please no! Stop! Please stop!"
"Scully! Wake up!"
"Aaaaaggghhhrrrrrrr! PLEASE GOD NOOO! STOOOP! PLEASEEE!" She writhed and screamed.
"SCULLY!" He yelled, pinning her down. He stripped the sheets away from her body and pushed her shirt up high. Then he found all the towels he could and soaked them with cold water, whilst listening to her moan in horror. He ran back into her room and laid them over her, covering as much flesh as possible. She sighed softly and her screams ceased. He kissed her cheek, hoping for the same response as earlier.
"Mmm...Mulder..." She murmured in her sleep.
He grinned to himself, full of masculine pride at his defeat of her demons. The demons in her dreams anyways. He had been sat at her bedside, watching her sleep, for almost an hour when he heard his cell phone ringing. He dashed into the sitting room and dug around in the pocket of his leather jacket. He stabbed the green button and pressed it to his ear.
"Where the hell are you Agent Mulder!" Skinner shouted "You were supposed to be in my office for a meeting over an hour ago!"
Mulder could almost see the vein in his boss' forehead "I'm sorry sir, Agent Scully never showed up for work this morning so I went to look for her,"
"And?"
"She has the flu, I'm at her apartment now, keeping an eye on her, she has a really nasty fever and I may need to take her to hospital if I can't get it down."
"Right..." Skinner sighed "Okay Mulder, stay with her, but keep it to yourself, I don't need anymore rumors."
"Yes sir, and thanks."
"Don't mention it Agent Mulder."
The dialing tone clicked in and Mulder stared at his phone in shock. That went far better that expected, he thought to himself. He smiled and tucked the phone back into his coat pocket, he then looked at his watch: 2:14pm. He glanced into Scully's room to check she was still asleep. She was curled up, hugging a pillow and mumbling softly, the towels still resting over her. He grinned at the sudden rush of warmth her peacefulness gave him, then entered her kitchen with one task in mind: lunch. Thirty minutes and one close call with the fire alarm later he emerged victorious, with a bowel of chicken soup, some toast and a mug of tea on a tray.
"Wake up sleepyhead." He sat the tray on her bedside table then sat on the bed beside her.
"...Huh?" She murmured sleepily
"Lunch, come on."
"...Mmm...kay...thanks..."
"C'mon Scully, jump to it."
"Alright, alright." She sighed and sat up, rubbing at her bleary eyes.
"I got you soup,"
"Thanks," She smiled at him and sniffed
"Tissue?" He passed her the box
"Thanks," She repeated, then blew her nose loudly. He sat cross legged infront of her, with the tray on his lap. She threw her used tissue into the waste basket across the room and looked over at him.
"Wha-"
"Shh." He spooned up some of the chicken liquid and blew on it, then holding his underneath, maneuvered it to her lips. Quirking one eyebrow, she opened mouth obediently. She sucked on the spoon for a moment, then released it, still staring at him. Mulder scooped up some more soup and offered it to her. She continued to eat her lunch in that way, neither of them speaking. After the last drop of soup had been mopped up Mulder finally opened his mouth.
"Do you feel better now?"
"Yes thank you,"
"You had one hell of a fever."
"I know, I had nightmares, horrible nightmares…"
"What about?"
"Everything. CSM, Pfaster, Duane Barry…"
"Oh…" He stared at her then held out his arms, allowing her to fall into them "Oh, Scully." He sighed "I'm sorry you've been through so much."
"Yeah? Well, so am I." She smiled at him sadly "But I'm still here, and you're still here, so it can't be all bad."
"No, no it isn't."
"What was that back there by the way?"
"What was what?"
"You just fed me."
"You're ill."
"Oh, okay then."
"And I like looking after you, it's nice, nice to help you when you let me. I know that you trust me then."
"You didn't already?" She asked
"Yes, professionally, but personally, I'm not always too sure."
"Oh..." Her face fell
"Thats not really true, I know you trust me personally, you just don't show it much, this reasures me."
"Okay," She didn't look so dejected.
"Rest some more Scully, you'll get better faster."
"I know, I know," She sighed "You sound like my mother!"
He huffed and pulled the sheets up around her.
"Stay."
"What?" He asked, bemused
"Stay with me, I don't want the nightmares to come back."
"Alright then..." He layed down on the sheet next to her, and gingerly placed an arm around her middle. She hugged it and allowed her eyes to close. He watched her sleep, knowing that her reasons for him staying weren't quite as pure as she had implied. Just like his reasons for staying hadn't. He liked to be close to her. Loved to be. They'd talk about this one day. That thought satisfied him for now, and he slept too, ignorant towards the germs being transferred in their shared air.
The End