TO LIVE FOR
Chapter 2
10:13 p.m.
Skinner returned to the office, after Mulder had been settled in his room, to finish up some important business that couldn't wait. When that was done he had dropped by his apartment to change into more comfortable clothes, preparing for a long night. Scully had called him often with updates on Mulder's condition and though he trusted her implicitly, he had to see for himself that his agent was still in the land of the living.
In her last call she told him that they were trying an experimental drug that might rejuvenate Mulder's lung tissue. Hoping for the best but still expecting the worst, Skinner made his way through the Intensive Care Unit. When he reached the room that he had last seen his two agents in, he was shocked to find it empty. Tamping down on the panic rising in his chest he sought out the nearest nurse.
"Excuse me? What happened to the patient in that room?"
Mandy smiled kindly at the man. "Agent Mulder's condition improved and he was transferred to the third floor. Room 310."
"Thank you," he said, already heading back towards the elevator.
After asking directions from two different orderlies, Skinner found room 310. Inside he discovered Scully, asleep in the chair beside Mulder's bed. As for the man in that bed, he was no longer adorned with a respirator, instead, an oxygen mask was strapped to his face. He quietly entered, pulling up another chair opposite Scully.
Mulder turned his head and regarded his boss under half closed lids. Skinner was staring at him as if he was a ghost. He appreciated the comparison, considering how close he had come to Death's door. He blinked in acknowledgment of the older man's presence, already having been thoroughly admonished for trying to speak earlier.
He was gratified that his boss was here, supporting Scully as he couldn't. Over the past year he had grown to trust Skinner, to rely on him to be there for both his partner and himself. And it touched him deeply that the man cared for him enough to come down here and spend time with them. He felt that he could tentatively call Walter Skinner his friend.
So when a nurse came in and insisted that Skinner leave, waking Scully in the process, Mulder was overjoyed that his diminutive partner verbally harangued that nurse into submission. The rest of the third floor knew within five minutes that the patient in room 310 would be allowed two full time visitors.
After Scully had collected herself and Skinner had finished chuckling, she thanked him for coming and asked when he had arrived.
"About half an hour ago. Found out Mulder'd been moved down here and here I am. So, tell me how such good fortune has occurred."
"The medication appears to have worked and his lungs are no longer being ravaged. While re-growth will take a lot longer, at least we don't need to fear complete respiratory failure. That's why the mask replaced the tube," she explained.
"Now we just need to figure out what it was," Skinner said thoughtfully.
"I know."
Both Scully and Skinner's heads snapped over to look at Mulder. "What did you say?" Scully asked in astonishment.
"I know what it was." His voice was muffled by the mask but she could still tell that his throat was raw from the coughing and the irritation of the vent tube.
She moved closer, leaning over so that her face was a foot from his own.
"The tetanus shot. I wasn't due for one." He paused to catch his breath, the simple task of talking was taking a lot of effort. "Must have been something else. Hurt like hell going in."
"Damn it!" Scully's vehemence was so abrupt that Skinner jerked in his seat. "I should have realized this sooner!"
"Scully, what are you two talking about? What tetanus shot?" Skinner was confused and it was making him angry.
"Yesterday we went down to get our yearly flu shots. Mulder was also given a tetanus shot that the doctor said was due. I didn't think much about it since last time Mulder had a tetanus we didn't report it."
"So you think this unidentified substance in his bloodstream was some sort of poison that the Consortium had administered to him?" He thought about it for a moment, testing the idea. "It makes sense."
Mulder was relieved that both his partner and Skinner had accepted the theory so easily. He had been afraid that it was something else, like a relapse of the retrovirus or maybe the black cancer returning to haunt him. Their agreement eased his mind on that subject.
He squeezed Scully's hand to get her attention. "Get the Lone Gunmen to do a search on Dr. McCain."
"Good idea." She looked at Skinner. "Don't ask, just trust us. These guys can find a needle in a haystack."
11:22 p.m.
Skinner had excused himself to go down to the cafeteria, having missed dinner. Scully declined his offer to join him and remained by her partner's bedside. They had sat in a comfortable silence for a good fifteen minutes before Mulder spoke.
"I'm sorry for not picking you up."
Scully's eyes closed and her head lolled back on her neck so that her face was tilted up a the ceiling. "Only you, Mulder. Only you would apologize for something so insignificant. But if it makes you feel any better, apology accepted." She brought her face back down and opened her eyes. "My turn. I'm sorry for yelling at you like that. You didn't deserve it, I should have listened to your explanation first. I shouldn't have assumed you'd ditch me, not after all we've been through."
He held her hand tighter. "Apology accepted." She could see him smile beneath the mask.
She opened her mouth to say something but her cell phone started chirping insistently. She sighed and reached around her to dig in the pocket of the coat hanging on the back of her chair. She pulled it out and punched a button. "Scully."
"Yo, Scully. How's our boy doin'?"
Scully grinned. "He's doing much better, Langley. Did you find anything on McCain?"
"Hold on, lemme give you to Byers."
Scully waited patiently as the phone was passed on to the head of the Lone Gunmen. In the background she could hear Frohike asking to talk to her. She could almost see his little round face, lit up with anticipation, his thick hands waving in excitement. She thanked God when Langley told Frohike to shut up and Byers was put on.
"Agent Scully."
Byers was always so polite, so gentlemanly. So different from his two comrades. She often wondered why he was associated with them. "So? Anything?"
"Doctor Brian McCain MD, born in 1951 in Minneapolis Minnesota. Graduated from Harvey Mudd in 1973, twelfth in his class. From there he bounced all over the country, from one hospital to another until he came to Washington Medical Center where he has practiced for the last sixteen years.
"He has an eleven year old daughter named Cynthia whom he and his wife Margaret have been sending to a private Catholic school in Georgetown. Cynthia suffers from a rare congenital heart disease which has put her in the hospital over twenty times in her short life. She was on the waiting list for heart transplants, but so far down that her chances were slim. However, this morning Cynthia successfully underwent a transplant procedure and is now resting comfortably at her father's hospital.
"Doctor McCain has retired from practice and intends to move to Iowa where he owns some land. His office has already been cleaned out and all his patients referred to other doctors."
Scully pursed her lips. "I see, thank you, you guys never cease to amaze me."
The noise in the background grew louder.
"Give Dana my undying love!"
"Shut up, Melvin!"
"You shut up, you wannabe hacker!"
"Why you little-"
"I'm sorry, Agent Scully, I have to go break up a fight. Give Mulder my best...Hey, Langley, put that down!"
The dial tone greeted her. Scully couldn't help but smile. That trio were more entertaining than Larry, Moe, and Curly. She realized that Mulder was staring at her impatiently.
"That was 'The Three Stooges'. Seems that Dr. McCain's daughter received a much needed heart transplant in payment for his services. Up until then he was clean as a whistle. I think he was just some unfortunate doctor who loved his family enough to do just about anything for them. And They used him as They use everyone. Now he's quit WMC and is moving to Iowa. At least They didn't kill him."
"At least some good came out of this." Mulder continued when Scully gave him a puzzled look. "That little girl is going to live."
A soft smile played at Scully's lips. Always worrying about others, never giving his own well being a second thought. That was Mulder. "So, it looks like we're on our own here. There is really nothing we can do except run tests on the substance you were injected with."
Mulder nodded, his eyes growing heavy now that all the adrenaline had vanished along with their only lead.
"Why don't you rest a bit. When Skinner gets back, I'll go for some coffee and check with the lab to see what they've turned up."
"You need to rest too," Mulder insisted.
"I will, I promise. I just want to make sure that the evidence doesn't do its usual disappearing act."
Wednesday
2:25 a.m.
Mulder shifted on the bed, careful not to make any noise. Both Scully and Skinner were sound asleep, lounging on a vacant bed and a small couch respectively. Skinner's legs hung over the arm of the couch and Mulder sympathetically cringed at the cramped position.
He couldn't sleep. His throat hurt, his chest hurt, and the damn catheter was bugging the hell out of him. His lungs were damaged, not his bladder for Christ's sake. But every time he tried to take a deep breath he was reminded of why he was stuck in this bed.
The back of his throat itched, like it was just tempting him to cough, to undo all the medication's hard work. But he knew he shouldn't and so he held it in, his chest aching all the more for it. It was making it harder to breathe, harder to focus on not coughing.
He wondered whether there was any way to turn up the oxygen output of the mask. He was pulling in air desperately now, his lungs screaming, his head swimming. The tickle became a fiery scratching and he could no longer control his body. He began to cough, his throat and chest exploding in a paroxysm of agony, the monitors surrounding him bleating wildly.
Scully was awake in an instant and by his side, Skinner joining soon after. Mulder had folded his arms over his ribs to quell the harsh coughing, blood speckling the oxygen mask over his mouth. Skinner was at the door, yelling out into the hallway for help.
Several hospital personnel came running, a bleary eyed Dr. Hana among them, obviously just awake. He was pulling on his white coat just as he skidded to a stop inside room 310. "What happened?"
"I don't know, he started coughing again and he can't breathe." Scully's heart was in her throat, her own breaths coming fast and hard. Skinner's hands on her shoulders were reassuring as he pulled her back to give the doctor room.
In a flurry of activity the endotracheal tube was reinserted and Hana used an AMBU bag to push oxygen into Mulder's lungs until a respiratory therapist came rushing in with a ventilator. After the life-giving machine was attached, instrument readings were recorded, blood drawn, IV checked. Then Mulder was whisked from the room to receive a chest x-ray and other necessary tests.
4:01 a.m.
Skinner had persuaded Scully to go back to sleep, insisting that she wouldn't be of any use if she couldn't think clearly. She had succumbed to his reasoning and returned to the empty bed an hour ago.
Hana had dropped by shortly thereafter and told him that Mulder had been readmitted to the ICU and that it would take a while longer before the tests were back. Skinner replied that they would be up just as soon as Scully awoke. He didn't have the heart to wake her himself, she looked so tired, had been through so much. She would probably be royally pissed at him but there were perks to being her boss - namely being able to get away with things other people didn't have a chance with.
She was starting to stir now, the sheets rustling under her. She sat up with a start, rapidly blinking away the last vestiges of sleep. The lights were all off, nothing but the pale glow of the moon illuminating the room. "Sir? What time is it?"
"Just after four."
"What? Why didn't you wake me?" She swung her legs off the bed and jumped down.
"You needed some sleep before you collapsed from exhaustion. Don't worry, Dr. Hana has assured me that he would notify us the second Mulder's tests came back. He's back in the ICU and now that you're awake I think it's time we join him." Skinner stood from his chair and moved toward the door, pointedly ignoring the glare Scully was giving him.
They walked into Mulder's room to find a nurse leaning over him, a thin tube down his throat. The tube led to a clear canister which was filling with bloody secretions. Skinner glanced in alarm at his agent. "Scully, what's going on?"
She drew in a deep breath. "They have to suction the pulmonary secretions every few hours. They're bloody because of the damage to his alveoli."
"Why is he breathing so fast?"
"It is taking a lot of pressure to push air into his lungs. The ventilator is set at a very fast rate to make up for his inability to take a good volume," Scully explained, trying to avoid looking at the subjects of their discussion. Maybe if she ignored it, it would just go away and make this all a bad dream. A woman's voice destroyed her fantasy.
"I'm all done," the nurse said cheerfully. She walked around the bed to the ventilator to reset the alarms and check the patient's volumes and inspiratory pressures.
Dr. Hana walked in the room, one hand holding a clipboard, the other scrubbing vigorously at his face. He unsuccessfully stifled a yawn just as he was about to speak. "Sorry," he mumbled.
Skinner and Scully nodded in sympathy. Scully remembered her shifts as a medical student and was again thankful for her decision to join the FBI. She looked over at the man laying motionless in the bed and was even more certain of the rightness of that decision. They had taken up their previous positions, she on one side, Skinner on the other. Hana was standing at the foot of Mulder's bed, flipping through the papers on the clipboard.
"I wish I had good news, but I'm afraid at this point the chances of that are slim. I don't know what happened, the medication seemed to be working, the toxin had been neutralized. But now it's grown a resistance to the antibiotics and is attacking his lungs at twice the rate as before. All our resources have been exhausted, our theories and tests have revealed nothing.
"After consulting with my associates, I want to make an offer. I would like to try a new medicine that has had some success in treating TB patients in Africa. Melanocarpamine has been proven to help the body re-grow lung tissue at an accelerated rate. It might also put a halt to whatever it is that has been running amok in his system. It is still in its experimental stages so I must have your permission before it can be administered."
Without hesitation, Scully answered, "Absolutely. How long will it take to see if it has any effect?"
"One to two hours." Hana was scribbling on Mulder's chart, eager to try the new medication.
"That fast?" Scully was surprised.
"I said it accelerated growth." Hana was smiling. "I meant *really* accelerated."
************
6:19 am
"It worked."
"What?"
Hana closed his eyed a sighed deeply. "The Melanocarpamine. It worked."
Skinner stood up and moved around to stand behind Scully, placing his hands on her shoulders in support. "Then why aren't you smiling, Doctor?"
"His lungs are completely incapacitated, no more than twenty-five percent of his lung tissue remains and what little there is will soon be destroyed. Short of a miracle, nothing can be done. Agent Scully, Agent Mulder needs to be informed of his choices. I will leave you alone so you may discuss it with him but I must be here when the final decision is made. I am trusting that you, as a doctor, will apprise him of all the pertinent consequences of either choice." With that, Hana turned and left, unable to bear the sadness that permeated the room.
Scully couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't hear. All she could do was think about what she would say, how she would tell Mulder to choose between painful life and immediate death. How could she possibly give him, the most important person in the world to her, an unbiased account of consequences when she was against the inevitable decision with all her heart? How could she watch him die? How could she live without him?
"Scully? Dana?" Skinner was getting worried. Scully's eyes were glazed over, she wasn't breathing, and her face was deathly pale. He knelt down by her side and forcibly moved her chair so that she was facing him. Then he gently gripped her shoulders and shook her back and forth slightly, calling her name.
Her eyes focused on him and he stopped. Her hands came up to her face and he could hear her whisper, "How?"
"Dana? I know this is hard, but Dr. Hana is going to be back soon. We need to wake Mulder." He spoke softly, his tone soothing.
Scully took a deep shuddering breath and held it for a few seconds before releasing it. Her hands dropped from her face and Skinner could see the tears glistening in her eyes. She pushed herself out of her chair and leaned over her partner's form.
Her left hand reached up to caress away the thick locks falling across his forehead. "Mulder? Wake up sleepyhead." Her voice was shaking, her hands trembling.
His eyelids fluttered and hazel orbs met blue. He didn't fight the respirator this time. He was too weak. He saw the tears and his hand moved to brush them away, his touch as light and caressing as her own had been.
"I need to ask you something, Mulder, I need you to listen and then answer after you've thought about it, okay? Two blinks is a yes and one is a no."
Thick lashes came together twice.
Another deep breath. "Doctor Hana told us that the last attack virtually...decimated your lungs. What tissue is left is still infected with the toxin and continues to corrode. The respirator is the only thing keeping you breathing, do you understand that?"
Slow blinks, one after the other.
"You can stay on the respirator until there isn't enough tissue left for it to even help you breathe, giving us time to search for a cure. We can deal, we can bargain with Cancerman." Mulder blinked once, squeezing his lids tight to signify his absolute vehemence at the thought of going to the black lunged son of a bitch for help. "I know, I know you don't want that, but hear me out. They have to have a cure, They had one for my cancer, They must have one for this. We still have the MJ files to bargain with."
Another tight squeeze.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. "The alternative is that we remove the respirator now and let your pulmonary system take over. But, Mulder, with what tissue you have, your lungs wouldn't be able to cope. You would...suffocate.
"You can stay on the respirator and give us a chance to find a cure, or you can have it removed and..." She couldn't say it. Could only think it. Die.
Skinner was standing a few feet away, giving them privacy. He felt the need to contribute, to show his agents that he was behind them, no matter what happened. "Take your time, think it over."
Scully threw a grateful glance his way before looking back and seeing Mulder close his eyes and reopen them. No. "You've already decided?" There was a weight in her stomach, like she was going to throw up.
Double blink.
The moment of truth. "Do you want the respirator out?" She said it quietly, almost mouthing the words, as though by denying their existence, she could deny his answer.
A blink. Seconds passed, the tension was enough to make her want to scream. A blink.
Her jaw clenched. She had to grip the railing on the bed to remain upright. "Are you sure?"
Twice more, this time quick and firm.
She bit her lower lip to keep from crying out. Skinner's own eyes were burning. "I'll get Hana," he said, pulling open the door.
The doctor was standing just outside, talking to a nurse. He saw Skinner and excused himself, handing the nurse the chart he was holding. He strode over to the other man. "He's decided then?" Skinner nodded. Hana could tell what Mulder had chosen, could see it in their eyes. "Is there anyone you need to call, any family?"
Scully gasped. She had completely forgotten about Christina Mulder. She should definitely be informed that her son was about to die. She held little hope that the woman would come down, but there was always a chance that his mother would suddenly grow a heart. "Sir? Would you call his mother?"
"Certainly. If you'll excuse me, I'll attend to that now." Skinner was ashamed that he was so eager to leave, needing to get out of the room where sorrow hung so heavily. He retrieved his phone from his jacket and called Information. Supplying them with what they asked he was connected to Greenwich. It rang three times before it was answered.
"Hello?"
"Hello, Mrs. Mulder? This is Assistant Director Walter Skinner, I work with your son. I'm sorry to wake you at such an early hour but I'm afraid I have some bad news."
Her words were clipped. "Is Fox hurt?"
"In a manner of speaking. He was admitted to Washington General yesterday morning in serious condition which has only worsened over time. He was has declined the use of machines that will keep him alive and I thought you would like to be here when we discontinue their use." He held his breath, waiting for an answer.
Her tone was cold. "I'm sorry, Mr. Skinner, but I won't be able to make it." She offered no explanation as to why.
"But Ma'am, I think that you would-"
"Yes, I would. But my health does not permit me to travel. Thank you for calling and give Fox my regards."
*Click*
'Give Fox my regards?' What kind of a mother was she? Skinner wasn't sure whether to feel sorry for her or be angry with her. In the end he settled between the two. Sorry that the disappearance of her daughter had caused her to withdraw from the world and miss the rest of her other child's life. Angry that she didn't seem to care what she had missed.
He returned to Mulder's room where Hana was disconnecting various wires and tubes that Mulder didn't need. Soon all that remained was the heart monitor and the respirator. Scully sat silently by the bed, her hand entwined with her partner's. He looked down at his renegade agent, thinking of a way to break the news.
"Mulder, I'm sorry but your mother can't come per her doctor's advice to avoid traveling. She does send her love and wishes she could be here." So he was lying, what harm could it do to a dead man?
Mulder rolled his eyes, seeing through Skinner's attempt to interpret his mother's words. Christina had not told her son she loved him in over twenty-five years and she would not break that record now, not even at his death bed.
Hana cleared his throat noisily. "Are you ready?"
Skinner waved him away. "Could you give us a minute?"
"Sure. I'll be back in five." The door shut loudly behind him.
AD Skinner sat down next to his agents. "Mulder, I...I want you to know that it has been a pleasure working with you. Your passion and devotion, your intelligence and stubborn determination, while at times frustrating, makes you the best agent the Bureau has ever seen or will see. I promise you that the X-Files will remain open and we will bury those bastards when we uncover your Truth."
Mulder blinked several times, hoping they would understand.
Skinner smiled. "I know. And you're welcome. I'll go see what Hana has planned. Pardon me."
They both knew what he was saying. He was giving them time alone to say goodbye.
Scully brought their entangled hands to her lips. "Mulder..." What could she say? What could she tell him in a few minutes to describe everything she was feeling? "These past five years I have seen and learned so much, things about the Truth, and about myself. About my heart and my soul. I discovered that I shared these two integral parts of myself with another person. You...God, Mulder, I love you more than life itself."
He increased the pressure on her hand, his eyes blinking in double succession, tears squeezed out of them each time. Prayed that she understood, knew that he returned her love with all his heart. He didn't want to leave her, didn't want her to have to watch him die. But he couldn't let her deal. He would rather die than have Scully bargain away her soul to save him.
She bent down and kissed his forehead, her soft lips lingering a few moments. Then she moved to his ear and whispered, "I always will."
A hesitant rapping sounded at the door before Skinner peered in. Scully nodded and he retreated from view only to reappear with Hana in tow. The doctor got right down to business, not wanting to prolong this any more than absolutely necessary.
"Agent Mulder, you have already been versed in the removal of the respirator so I needn't instruct you. Do you understand all the implications of your decision?"
Lids drooped twice.
"All right. Do you want any religious overseer?"
One blink.
"Then let's do this." Hana checked with the other two people in the room. "You ready?"
Skinner just stared impassively, the reflection on his glasses camouflaging the evidence of his inner turmoil. Scully held Mulder's left hand pressed between her own small fingers, not caring that tears were steadily flowing across her pale skin. She helped him to sit up and lean forward so she could place some pillows behind him, preparing him for an easier transition.
Dr. Hana inhaled deeply, letting it out in an explosive whoosh. Morphine had been administered and now there was only the act itself that needed to be performed. He stepped up next to Mulder and untaped the tube from his face. He held the tube in place within Mulder's airway. "Here we go." He lowered the rate of the vent to eighteen breaths a minute.
Mulder glanced at Hana, grateful to see that the doctor was having a bit of trouble composing himself. Hana cared about his patients and that meant a lot to Mulder in terms of reassurance.
Hana decreased the rate to twelve.
His eyes met Skinner's, gratitude and trust exchanged silently. The older man had become sort of a father figure, someone he respected and looked up to. He was glad to have his boss here.
Another six.
Now he locked gazes with Scully. Dana. The woman who meant so much he was willing to die to save her, would commit a thousand sins to protect her. Though it was tragic that it took imminent death for them to admit their feelings to each other, Mulder was sure that they had admitted it to themselves long ago. It was no revelation that she loved him, or that he loved her. But when she finally said those words he felt that his heart would burst from the joy. He smiled at her with his eyes, his hand tight in hers.
The dial was now in the off position, signaling the time for the removal of the endotracheal tube.
Mulder blew out with what little air he had, Hana pulling at the same time. The tube moved up through his tortured throat, feeling as though it was tearing the sensitive tissue to pieces. He couldn't help the groan that escaped. Scully's fingers curled through his as she felt his body tense.
Then it was out, dangling in Hana's palm. A one hundred percent non-rebreather mask was placed over Mulder's nose and mouth. Time froze as everyone waited for the inevitable. The stillness was broken by a shallow gasp.
Mulder tried to draw in air, to suck in life giving oxygen. He couldn't. Nothing but a few wisps of air passed his lips. It felt like he was drowning, had swallowed gallons of water and now his lungs were full, unable to hold anything else.
With monumental effort he removed his hand from Scully's grasp and managed to to drag the mask off his face, the other hand raising enough that he could reach behind her neck. He pulled her down with him as he lay back against the pillows, his lips meeting hers in a desperate kiss. Expending what little air he had managed to attain, he wheezed, "I love you."
Releasing his hold on her coughed hoarsely, using every last ounce of oxygen. He was getting dizzy, spots swimming across his vision. He clenched his eyes shut, tears streaming down the sides of his face. Tired. He was so tired, he wanted to rest.
Scully stared at his pale face, his expression one of pain and sorrow. The frantic screaming of the heart monitor was pounding in her ears. She thought of what she was losing. What she was letting happen.
No. She wasn't going to let it end like this. "Put it back in! Dr. Hana, please put it back in! He wasn't of sound mind when he decided, he was coerced by other influences, I didn't advise him of all the consequences! Oh God, please!" She was throwing out every excuse possible in hopes that Hana would accept one.
Hana was torn. He knew that this woman was distraught, more than that even. It was like a part of her was dying. Agent Mulder had wanted this. But what if? What if any of what she said was true? He couldn't take the chance, he couldn't allow this if the decision wasn't made completely by the patient.
He hefted the tube in his hand for a second before deciding. Hana moved forward and dug in the tackle box that held all the instruments he would need. Laryngoscope, stylet, and a new ET tube came out. Mulder was too weak to put up any opposition and the tube was reinserted within moments.
Oxygen flooded his damaged lungs so instantly that it was almost too painful to bear. He groaned again, angry at Scully for not allowing him peace and yet thankful that he would be able to be with her a little longer.
Scully threw herself down on the bed, her elbows resting on the edge, her hands groping out for her partner's. She was weeping, unabashedly sobbing. "I'm sorry, Mulder, forgive me, I'm so sorry. I can't do this, I will not let you do this.
"When I was in a coma and they were going to turn off life support you fought them, you wouldn't give up hope. Please don't ask me to do what you couldn't." She buried her head in her arms, just millimeters from his side. "Forgive me," she cried.
Mulder's trembling hand raised and stroked the back of her head, his fingers running through her red tresses. He continued to caress her until her sobs quieted. She turned her head and looked into his eyes and saw nothing but love.
He forgave her.
Unknown Location
Same Time
"Who authorized this?" He glared around the room, his cold gaze meeting the five other pairs of eyes in the silent office. No one spoke, no one admitted to any knowledge of the breach of order.
He took a long drag on his cigarette, blowing the smoke out in an exasperated sigh. "The toxin was not to be tested on anything other than the merchandise. To infect Mulder with it? This must be rectified immediately, we do not need a martyr's crusade on our hands."
A few heads nodded in agreement, the others choosing to remain still in acknowledgment. They then stood from their respective chairs, filing out the door in a procession of dark suits and wrinkled skin. The only one remaining stood to the left of the huge oak desk, waiting for the next command.
"Bring him in." He waved at the door opposite the one which everyone had exited, the cigarette in his hand glowing with the motion.
The attendant hurried to the door and opened it, standing back as someone entered. He was huge, a behemoth of a man, his face jagged and angular, his close cropped hair slicked back. His eyes were emotionless, as though he was looking at a worm writhing at his feet.
Cancerman was not put off. "You must heal him."
The big man's deep voice was as toneless as the rest of him. "Why?"
"He is important to the success of the Project and must not be allowed to die."
The Bounty Hunter stared disdainfully at the old man in the chair. "He will live because We want him to, not because of your wishes." Having said that he turned and left the room.
Cancerman reached across his desk and stubbed out the cigarette in an ashtray, his hand shaking.
7:50 a.m.
Skinner had been in the cafeteria for half an hour, trying to find something edible. Scully insisted she wasn't hungry and had spent the last few hours sitting by Mulder's side, talking about inconsequential things or humming a soothing tune.
She had asked Skinner to try and contact Cancerman in order to negotiate for a cure. He had agreed to do it as soon as Hana gave them the latest update. Scully didn't know what they would bargain with but she wouldn't hesitate to give whatever was asked for.
An orderly came in, smiling brightly, tray of towels and linens in hand. "Agent Scully? Dr. Hana would like to see you in his office right away."
She pushed up from the chair and leaned over Mulder. "I'll be right back, okay?" She kissed his forehead and smoothed back the unruly bangs.
He blinked at her three times.
She smiled. "I love you too."
She nodded kindly at the orderly as she passed and headed down the hallway. The man came in, shutting the door behind him and set the tray on the table. Then his skin seemed to distort, his body growing thick and tall, his hair shortening on his scalp.
Mulder's eyes were wide as he looked at the Bounty Hunter. Last time they met he couldn't remember what happened, didn't know whether he was supposed to have been killed or not. He struggled to move, to get a nurse's attention. But he was weak and could not make any noise. He was trapped.
The Bounty Hunter almost grinned in amusement at the fear in the agent's eyes. He lifted two meaty hands and laid them on Mulder's chest, his eyes drifted shut, his head tilting back ever so slightly.
Mulder felt heat begin to emanate from the center of his chest, slowly radiating outward, tendrils of warmth traveling up his throat. Panic gave way to understanding and he stopped struggling.
7:58 a.m.
Hana looked up from the pile of papers on his desk. "Agent Scully, is there something I can help you with?"
Scully frowned. "I thought you wanted to see me."
He cocked his head to the side. "No, I haven't been able to get our latest lab results yet so I was going to wait until I had them in hand before talking to you."
"But an orderly..." An orderly she hadn't seen before. He hadn't followed her out of the room. "Oh God, no!" She whirled around and hurtled out of the office, Hana close behind.
Her mind was racing. He was one of Them. They were going to finish the job, make sure Mulder died before any deal could be made. She skidded to a stop in front of his room and jerked the door open, belatedly realizing that she was unarmed.
But there was no one there. No one but Mulder. Mulder, who was trying to get out of bed. Mulder sans respirator.
"What are you doing?" She rushed to his side, pushing him back down. "Where's the ET tube?"
"I took it out."
"You took it out? Mulder, that is a delicate procedure, you shouldn't have attempted..." Wait a minute. He was talking. Moving. *Breathing*. "Mulder?"
He grinned at her. "Yeah, Scully?"
"I...You...How?" she stammered.
He took her hands and drew her close, bringing his mouth to meet hers. He pulled back and looked into her eyes. "Do you believe in miracles?"
9:34 a.m.
It took a good twenty minutes for Mulder to explain to Scully and Skinner what had occurred. They were both inclined to be skeptical but they had seen the Bounty Hunter before, knew what he was capable of. Besides, the evidence lay before them in the form of one healthy FBI agent.
Hana, who had arrived moments after Scully, had been in denial at first. He had begun setting up to reintubate, positive that hypoxia had made the patient euphoric and so had removed the tube himself. But after he gathered his wits, listened to Mulder's chest, and ordered enough tests to keep the technicians busy for hours, he finally came to the conclusion that he was dreaming.
All traces of the substance in Mulder's system was gone, his lungs were in perfect condition. Doctor Emile Hana had thrown up his hands at the whole situation and was now scheduled for a well deserved week of vacation. The lab results which Hana had been waiting for never arrived, as all samples of the toxin had mysteriously disappeared, along with Mulder's chest x-rays and CT scans.
Mulder was to be released the next morning after twenty-four hours of observation. Upon hearing this he had loudly complained, but relented under Scully's glare of reproach. Now he was back in room 310, sitting in the elevated bed and flipping through the morning cartoons on television.
Skinner, who had been sitting with his agents for the past hour decided that it was time to leave when Mulder cried out happily as the TV announced a Scooby-Doo marathon starting at 10 o'clock. He would never understand his maverick agent. Oxford-educated psychologist, brilliant criminal profiler, extraordinary investigator...cartoon junkie.
"I should be getting back to the office. They can't seem to run it without me." He stood and gathered his jacket into his arms.
He was pleased that his agents appeared disappointed by his statement. Scully also stood and walked around to stand next to him, resting a hand on his forearm. "Sir, thank you for all you've done. For being here for us."
He patted the hand on his arm. "Anytime, Scully, anytime." He turned to Mulder. "You had better do everything your partner tells you to. I do not want to have to come down here and find that you have been harassing the staff. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Sir," Mulder replied crisply. "And, Sir? That thank you is from both of us."
Skinner genuinely smiled at that, surprising the other two. Neither could remember ever seeing their superior actually smile. He glanced again at the bright colors bouncing across the television screen and shook his head. Then he turned and left, the confidence in his step more assured than when he had first arrived.
Mulder flipped off the TV and tossed the remote on the bedside table. Despite what Skinner might think, he wasn't interested in the Scooby-Doo marathon. He had already seen every episode.
"Scully?"
She sat down on the edge of the bed. "Yes?"
He looked down at his hands, fiddling with the sheets. "I want to apologize for putting you through that." He raised a hand to stop her when she began to argue. "For making you suffer because of my own selfish need to give up fighting."
"That was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life, Mulder. I couldn't bear to lose you."
He brushed back a strand of hair from her face. "I wanted to die because then you wouldn't be able to sacrifice yourself for my sake. My death would protect you and that's all that mattered to me. But I want to thank you. For not letting me take the easy way out, for giving me a reason."
He had left his palm on her cheek and now she used her hand to press it to her face. "Reason to what?"
He leaned forward and captured her lips in a gentle expression of love. "I was always willing to die for you. But now, I want to live for you."
*********
END