Title: Down with the Sickness

Fandom: The X Files

Disclaimer: I do not own The X-Files or its characters; they belong to Chris Carter and 1013 productions. David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson in a sense own Mulder and Scully as well because they bring the characters to life.

Summary: Set in the 3rd season, not long after the episode Grotesque. Mulder is very sick and Scully looks after him, this fic should have at least three chapters.

Chapter 2

Dana Scully puttered about her kitchen, grabbing two mugs from her cabinet and placing them on the countertop nearest to the stove. She placed two tea bags in them, and grabbed the milk from the fridge, settling it next to the two mugs before she turned to stare at the stovetop absently. She waited patiently for the kettle containing her and Mulder's tea water to let out an insistent wail signifying it was through being boiled. Her mind however was not focused on the boiling tea water so much as it was focused on the man watching television in her living room. When they'd arrived at her apartment Mulder had been slightly confused, but had chose not to question her on the subject, besides stating the obvious, "Scully this is your place."

After ruffling his sweaty hair she'd grabbed his overnight bag from the trunk, the one he always kept in there in case they were suddenly called away on a case, and insisted upon carrying it up to her apartment. He'd protested vehemently, insisting that she needn't carry it because he was perfectly capable of doing it himself, but thankfully one raised eyebrow and her infamous glare was all it took to convince him to relent. This action in and of itself only cemented in her mind how damn awful he must be feeling, and she was sure she was taking the right course of action by bringing him to her place. As they'd made there way to the entrance of her building, she'd once again supported him around the waist, and allowed him to wrap his arm around her shoulder. Even the short walk to the door had caused his condition to deteriorate, he'd gone completely ashen, almost translucent, in her opinion, and he'd wheezed harshly on every intake of breath. Once she'd gotten him into her building she'd steered him toward the elevator, there was no way he could've made it up the three flights of stairs it took to reach her apartment.

In the elevator's bright interior he'd extracted himself from her, not wanting her to bear the burden of his added weight, and leaned back in the closest corner to the door. He'd turned his head to the side, leaning his cheek against the cool wall of the elevator, shivering slightly, his breathing labored. She'd watched as he'd closed his eyes against the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights, and saw the rivulets of sweat trailing from his hairline to his jaw. When the elevator had dinged its arrival at their stop she'd reached for him, and led him across the hall to her apartment. She'd shuffled in front of the door as she'd struggled to extract her keys from her coat pocket, for Mulder had been pressed against her side and not at all aware of what was going on around him. After finally having gotten the correct key into the lock she'd twisted the door open with as much ease as she'd been able to manage, and led her sick partner inside. She'd guided him into the kitchen and pushed him to sit down in one of her chairs. He'd sat slumped in his seat, tired gray-green eyes studying her through those long thick lashes; lashes almost any women would be jealous of.

He'd then muttered in a rather raspy voice, "You don't have to take care of me you know. I don't expect you to."

Her rosebud lips had upturned in a sad smile. "I know you don't Mulder, you've been taking care of yourself for a long time, but there's nothing wrong with letting someone else take over for a while. You're pretty sick partner, and I don't want to leave you alone to fend for yourself, I think you could use a little TLC. And Mulder before you start thinking otherwise I don't pity you and I don't feel obligated to look after you. I just care."

Mulder's full lips had turned up in a sad smile of his own. "You know me too well Scully." he'd mumbled tiredly, but not without humor.

"And don't you forget it." Scully had responded with amusement.

He watched her through half-lidded eyes, the smile still on his face when his eyes finally fluttered closed in exhaustion. She'd reached out, pushing his sweat-soaked bangs off his too pale forehead in a gentle upward motion, and found herself surprised at the degree of heat emanating from him. "Mulder you're even hotter than you were earlier." she'd declared, her voice tinged with worry.

"Thank you for noticing Scully." he'd leered, trying to lighten the mood.

"Smartass." she'd groused good-naturedly. 'If he's gracing me with his usual brand of humor than he must not be too bad off.' she'd thought to herself with relief.

"Stay right here Mulder, I'm just going to get the thermometer and some aspirin."

"I'll be here Scully."

She'd been back a moment later both aspirin and thermometer in hand, but Mulder, who'd fallen into a light doze didn't hear her approach and was startled when she'd shoved his shoulder lightly. He'd flinched away from her touch violently, his fever bright eyes snapping open and searching the room wildly, before finally settling on her. She'd spoken to him in a soothing voice, for his breathing was rapid and shallow and she'd needed to calm him down so he didn't hyperventilate on her. "It's alright Mulder, it's me Scully, and you're at my apartment, remember. You're safe, you're okay I won't let anything happen to you. Now I want you to breathe carefully, slow deep breaths, that's it Mulder. Good, that's good."

She'd continued to instruct him in his breathing, coaching him to match her measured breaths. After a few minutes he'd gotten his breathing back under control, and averted his eyes in embarrassment and probably a little in fear of her possible reaction. "I'm sorry." he'd murmured weakly.

"You have nothing to be sorry for Mulder." she'd reassured, eying him with a thinly-veiled sadness. She'd seen him react that way to unexpected touch before but it never ceased to make her feel melancholy, she'd wondered, and not for the first time what horrors he'd had to go through in childhood to make him recoil that way. 'To be totally honest I'm not sure I want to know, but if it would help him to talk I'd be there for him in a heartbeat.' she'd thought to herself.

After shaking off her reverie she'd spoken to him soothingly. "Lets check your temperature now Mulder."

He'd watched her through half-lidded eyes before opening his mouth to welcome the thermometer, seemingly too tired to make the effort to reach out and take it from her. Not pausing in her actions, she'd stuck the thermometer into his mouth, holding it there waiting for the annoying beep indicating his temperature had been read. When it had gone off she'd slid the thermometer from his mouth and glanced at the screen, he'd had a temperature of 103.5 degrees. She'd been worried about him, given how high his fever was during the day it would undoubtedly spike by nightfall.

'I need to make that call to Rob swiftly so he can find some time in his busy schedule to squeeze Mulder in. Then it would be best to get Mulder in the tub, a bath will hopefully, along with the aspirin lower his fever, and I should grab the humidifier from the closet and put it in the bathroom because that should help clear his lungs.' she'd thought to herself, concerned.

She'd taken a deep calming breath before turning her attention to Mulder, speaking in a soothing tone of voice. "Mulder your fever's pretty high, I'm going to have you take some aspirin, and then I'll draw you a bath, it should in all likelihood lower that fever."

His previously closed eyes had sluggishly opened at that, a sliver of bright green peeking out at her through those gorgeously long lashes of his. "A bath?" he'd rasped weakly, his tone incredulous and his brow furrowed.

She'd raised one russet eyebrow at his question, and responded pragmatically. "Yes Mulder a bath, I really don't think you're up to standing under the shower spray.'

Even through his exhaustion he'd managed a small sheepish smile. "Yeah a shower's not such a good idea I'd probably pass out." he'd spoken softly, an odd expression she couldn't quite place plastered across his face.

She'd shot him a sweet smile, before moving to get him a glass of water so he could swallow the aspirin. Then she'd moved back over to him, placing the glass of water on the table, before picking up the bottle of aspirin and twisting the cap off. She'd tapped two pills out into the palm of her hand and turned toward Mulder. His eyes had still been slivers of bright green, eying her with utter exhaustion. Instead of placing the pills in his hand, she'd pressed them to his lips and he'd then opened his mouth to receive them. After that she'd grabbed the glass of water off the table and put it to his lips, helping him take a few sips to wash down the aspirin. When he'd finished swallowing his eyelids were shielding those fever bright eyes again and he'd leaned his head against the back of the chair in lassitude. "Mulder I'm going to draw you a bath now, stay right here." she'd voiced, her concern showing despite her attempts to conceal it.

Ten minutes later she'd been back in front of Mulder's chair, speaking softly so as not to startle him. "Mulder c'mon wake up your bath's ready."

When she'd seen his eyelids start to flutter, dark eyelashes kissing flushed cheeks she'd reached out, brushing back that stubborn lock of hair that always seemed to fall across his forehead despite his efforts to tame it. He'd opened his eyes slowly, leant into her touch, and smiled warmly at her. "Time to get up?" he'd inquired, his voice crackling.

"Yes Mulder, your bath's ready." she'd responded, backing away so he had plenty of room to stand. He'd risen slowly, not wanting a repeat of what had happened at the office, but despite his efforts the rush of dizziness overtook him anyway. He'd swayed, pitching forward slightly, and Scully had reached out to steady him. Mulder had held onto her like a man who was drowning, his long slender hands clamping down on her arms in a white-knuckled grip, and he'd gone completely ashen again, the flushed cheeks he'd been sporting not even a minute before alarmingly absent. His deathly pale face had expressed such haggardness and his breathing was once again rapid and shallow. He'd succumbed to another coughing fit, a deep wet hacking that was over before she'd expected it to be. She'd pulled him to her when it was through, until he was standing so close that there was only a miniscule amount of space between them, he'd felt like a furnace against her markedly cooler skin. He'd slumped against her in exhaustion and she'd staggered as the majority of his weight settled on her. Using her quick reflexes to her advantage she'd managed to keep the both of them upright, her hands at his waist, his hands gripping her upper arms, and his forehead resting on her shoulder. He'd been mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like, "I'm sorry Scully, sorry, sorry, sorry. Don't be mad; please don't be mad, I promise I'll be better. Promise."

She'd bristled at those words, her body stiffening as her earlier anger at his parents came roaring back with a vengeance. Had they seriously made him feel guilty for being sick, she could not even begin to imagine her parents doing such a thing, but clearly her parents were overwhelmingly different than Bill and Teena Mulder concerning their philosophies on raising children, in a decidedly good way. She'd forced herself to relax not wanting him to think she was angry with him, because that was the last thing Mulder had needed right then. She'd then started rubbing his back in a circular motion, trying to reassure him, but it wasn't working quite as well as she'd hoped. He'd continued to mumble words of contrition into her shoulder, his hands convulsively clutching her arms in anxiety, so she'd turned her head to the right so her lips were right next to his ear and spoke softly, soothing his frazzled nerves. "Shh shh sweetheart, I'm not mad at you, there's no reason to be. Honey your sick, it's not your fault you can't control your body's reaction to the infection. It's not your fault, not your fault at all."

'Sweetheart? Honey? Since when do you use endearments in regards to your partner Dana?' she'd berated herself. 'Since you heard him pleading for you not to be angry with him, that's when.' some part of her supplied helpfully. 'Oh well, there's nothing you can do about it now, here's to hoping he doesn't remember.'

Thankfully her words had the intended affect on him, he'd calmed, his hands relaxing against her, and his mumbled apologies tapering off. "C'mon lets get you in that tub." she'd said calmly, adjusting him so her arm was once again wrapped around his waist, and his arm was thrown over her shoulder.

She'd lead him over to the bathroom, guiding him to sit down on the closed toilet seat. He'd struggled to stay upright, he was just so damn tired, and all he wanted to do was go to sleep and not wake up for a week. "Mulder can you slip your suit jacket off?" Scully had asked kindly.

Mulder had nodded, but a few minutes later he had still been struggling to extract himself from the jacket. Eventually he'd given up, slumping in his seat, resting his elbows on his thighs and his head in his hands, with a dejected sigh. When she'd called to him to get his attention he'd took his head out of his hands and looked up at her with an expression that could only be described as unutterably miserable. "Hang on a second honey; I'm just going to grab the thermometer I want to check your temp. again." she'd said, more worried than she'd been before, the endearment slipping out without her even noticing.

She'd grabbed the thermometer from the kitchen along with his bag so he'd have something to change into after his bath, and then made her way back to the bathroom. She'd stuck the thermometer in his mouth again, waiting for the beep with an impatience that was atypical of her. When the damn thing finally beeped she removed it from his mouth, and looked to the screen with apprehension, it had read 104.7 degrees. With a heavy sigh she'd moved over to him and began helping him out of his jacket, when she was done taking that off she'd coaxed him to raise his arms above his head. She'd gently taken the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it up and over his head, rumpling his dark hair unintentionally. Scully had run her hand through it briefly, which had only served to tousle it even more, before bending down to take off both his shoes and socks. She'd then moved onto the pants and managed to get them off with some difficulty, seeing as Mulder wasn't much help at that moment. She'd kept the boxers on, not that Mulder cared much about modesty at the time, but she'd figured if he was more aware of what was going on around him he'd be more comfortable with them on. After that she'd reached out, grabbing him by the arms so she could pull him up from the toilet seat and guide him over to the tub, his skin had been hot and dry to the touch, which increased her worry. She'd helped him step into the tub on shaky legs, and held him steady as he lowered himself into the water. He'd started shivering fairly quickly, goose bumps spreading over the expanse of his bare skin. Mulder had turned to her, his teeth chattering loudly, his green-gold eyes glassy with fever, and spoke weakly. "Scu… Scully it's cold."

"No Mulder it's not really cold, your fever's too high, so the heat in your body makes it feel cold. You just have to stay in for ten minutes okay." she'd explained gently.

He'd nodded, before bringing his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his shins, and resting his chin on his knees. She'd left the bathroom, moving across the hall to the linen closet and grabbed a towel and a wash cloth. She'd been back before he'd even realized she was gone, settling down beside the tub again. She'd wet the wash cloth, and then began running it up and down his back gently, then along his arms, over his knees. Next, she'd reached for his face, gently grabbing his chin and turning it so that he was facing her; she'd bathed his face gently keeping up a steady stream of light conversation so he had something to focus on. After that she'd cupped some water in the palm of her hand and used it to wet his hair; then she'd started the ritual from the beginning again. She'd continued doing this for the remainder of those ten minutes, at the end of which he'd become more alert. She'd felt comfortable enough to leave him alone to get dressed, and he'd come out of the bathroom a few minutes later, clad in a navy blue t-shirt, gray sweatpants, and thick socks; his dark hair sticking up every which way from when he'd toweled it dry. She'd watched him walk towards her slowly, while she'd set that appointment up with Rob, and had used their silent form of communication to indicate to him that he should go lie down on the couch, make himself comfortable. He'd nodded and turned toward the living room.

Not long after that she'd wrapped up the phone call with Rob, who'd agreed to take a look at Mulder, just like she'd known he would and then she'd called her mother. Leaving a brief message on the machine, she'd told her mother that Mulder was sick, and asked her to give her a call when she got the message. She'd known her mother would, Maggie Scully loved Fox Mulder like he was one of her own, and would probably insist on making him some homemade soup, and coming over to make sure he ate every last bit of it herself. Not for the first time Scully wondered what had transpired between the two of them while she'd been missing, all she'd been able to get out of her mother was that Fox had been there to support her through the difficult time, that he'd been quite a mess himself, and relentless in his search for her. She hadn't even tried to broach the subject with Mulder, sensing somehow that he wouldn't respond well to that line of questioning. After she'd shaken herself out of her reverie, she'd called out to Mulder. "Mulder would you like a cup of tea?"

"Yes please." he'd called back, his voice all crackly, before he'd broken down in another coughing fit.

When it finally let up she'd asked loudly, "You okay in there Mulder."

She'd heard him gasp a few times before he'd managed to croak out in that weak raspy voice, "I'm fine Scully."

She'd taken his word for it, that was just a few minutes ago, and now hear she was waiting for the tea kettle to announce the water was done boiling, hearing only the muted sounds of the television coming from the other room. Finally there it was, the insistent wail of the tea kettle letting her know the water was ready. She grabbed the kettle off the stovetop, the wail trailing off as she used her other hand to turn off the back burner, and then she set about making the tea. When she was through she put the milk away, and threw the tea bags in the trash, before grabbing both cups of tea off the countertop, and heading into the living room.

The sight that greeted her there brought a rare grin to her face, Mulder was lying down at the far end of the sofa, sprawled out, looking for all the world like a little boy that had exhausted himself from a hard day of play. His head was resting haphazardly on one of her throw pillows; his still damp hair rumpled adorably, that one stubborn lock falling across his forehead, and the rest of it sticking up all over the place. His long lashes fell like crescent moons on flushed cheeks, and that full lower lip was sticking out in the all familiar pout. In sleep he looked so young, all that weariness etched across his face during the waking hours was melted away, and he looked all of five years old, the sweatpants only adding to that appearance. She didn't know how he managed it, but despite the fact that he was sick, the deep rattling wheeze in his chest heard all too clearly he still radiated this tranquility that she'd never seen in him while awake, and probably never would.

He stirred some, shivering, seemingly cold, before settling again and snuffling something unintelligible. She smiled warmly, moving to grab her throw from her arm chair. Scully walked back over to him, settling the blanket over his still form, making sure it covered his feet, and then moving up to his head, tucking the blanket under his chin. She placed the back of her hand against his forehead, he was still too hot for her liking, but at least his temperature wasn't bordering on 105 degrees anymore. He grunted a little in his sleep, and she found herself grinning down at him again, he was simply adorable. Deciding to indulge herself a little she ran her fingers through his unruly hair, it was so thick and soft, silky, she'd never felt such soft hair on a man before. He seemed to enjoy her ministrations for he pushed head up into her hand, reminding her of a kitten, and sighed contentedly as she continued running her finger through the silky strands. She bent down and kissed his forehead tenderly, deciding that she'd let him sleep for a few minutes before she had to wake him so they could make it to that appointment with Rob.

She sat down in her arm chair, sipping her cup of tea and watching her partner sleep peacefully for what was probably the first time in months.

TBC…

AN: I hope you enjoyed this. Sorry for the long wait, medical issues and schoolwork have been keeping me pretty busy. Let me know what you think.

Thanks,

Alaina