Thanks for sticking with me, everyone! I can't seem to stop myself from writing this story at every free moment I find, so updates are going to keep happening quickly. As always, give me your thoughts!
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Mulder slept for most of the day uninterrupted. With no stimuli to trigger her hallucinations, Scully had remained in a sleeping state as well, though her body had begun to burn with fever.
In her dreams, her world was miserably twisted and upside down. Nothing was as it seemed, and everywhere she turned there was confusion, fear, and a terrible sense of loss.
She tossed and turned, mumbling fitfully as a heavy sweat broke across her brow and cheeks.
Her partner woke at none of this- though he had stayed upright and functional throughout the ordeal, it had mostly been adrenaline that kept him going. When Mulder had finally let himself relax enough to succumb to sleep, his slender form stayed completely motionless, his breathing shallow and his heart rate low as his body tried to regain strength and energy. Though he hadn't lost enough blood to pass out of the spot, he was definitely weakened.
During the hours that the two agents slept, a black sedan sat on the other end of the parking lot, its lone occupant apparently having nothing better to do than sip his coffee and read the newspaper.
When Mulder finally woke, it was to the shrill ring of his cellular phone. He bolted upright from a dead sleep, reaching for his gun. When the phone rang again, bringing Mulder to his senses, he sighed, running and hand through his hair before picking up.
"Yeah," he answered groggily, glancing around the room. Scully hadn't moved, thank god. The digital clock on the nightstand read 6:03. The light that filtered through the blinds was soft and dim, indistinguishable as dusk or dawn.
Have I been asleep for twelve minutes or twelve hours?
He decided it must be the latter, based on the stiff aching of his body.
"Mulder, it's Skinner. I've got some bad news. The files you told me about are gone. You must have been right about them having someone on the inside. I've been trying to find a loophole, but without any tangible evidence I can't get men into that building."
Mulder cursed under his breath, standing up to pace the room.
When he said nothing else, Skinner asked, "How's Scully?"
"I don't know, I just woke up. I'll check on her now."
Setting the phone down on the bed, Mulder approached her cautiously. Her eyes were half open but unfocused. Every few seconds, her lips would move soundlessly.
Mulder's stomach clenched uneasily when he saw the beads of sweat that had formed on her face. He put his fingers to her neck to feel her pulse rapid and fluttery.
He reached behind him, not taking his eyes off her face as he picked the phone back up.
"Not good," he said grimly. "She's got a fever. If this thing lasts 24 hours like Scully thought, she still has about 5 hours left. If she gets any worse during that time I'll have to get to a doctor."
He reached down to brush back a sweaty strand of hair that was sticking to her forehead.
"I may be able to help you with that, at least," Skinner said. "I've managed to track down an old friend of Scully's from medical school. She works out of a hospital that shouldn't be more than a couple hours from where you are. She's agreed to take you both in off the record." Skinner paused. "I'm pretty sure she can be trusted."
Mulder breathed a sigh of relief. "Alright, tell me where I'm going."
He pulled a pad of paper and a pen from the motel room nightstand and copied down the phone number for Dr. Shelly Hilton as well as directions to the hospital.
When he'd thanked the Assistant Director and hung up the phone, Mulder wasted no time in gathering up his things and his partner. He lifted her gently, for the moment not concerned that she would wake and react to his touch; whatever stage the drug was in, it had rendered her sickly and weak while he slept. Feeling her clammy brow and her limp limbs, he felt bad having kept her cuffed to the bed all day.
"Hang in there, Scully," he said quietly as he eased her back down in the car. "We're going to get you some help."
Though it pained him to do so, Mulder once again tethered her to the car door. Whatever was happening to Scully was happening quickly and intensely; for all he knew she could be up and trying to choke him again in the blink of an eye.
When they'd turned back onto the road, the man in the black sedan suddenly lost interest in his paper, putting the car in drive to follow.
XXX
An hour or so into their drive, Scully's fever broke. Mulder had been reaching back every twenty minutes or so to check her heart rate, and to his immense relief, he found that it had strengthened again. Her skin felt warm under his fingers, but not burning as it had been.
At his touch, she began to stir.
Mulder withdrew his hand and, as before, waited quietly for her to come to.
It took another ten minutes; all the while Mulder watched the road, but his other senses were honed sharply in on the backseat. He could sense her stirring, and finally she sat up.
It was clear that she was at least semi-lucid, because she took great care to be quiet as she pulled herself upright. Mulder tensed, expecting another episode of murderous, hateful Scully trying stealthily to kill him.
A little afraid of her silence, he turned to look. But the face he saw peering at him from the shadowy backseat was not homicidal or enraged; on the contrary, she looked frightened of him.
Mulder's heart leapt a little as he saw the clarity in her wary eyes. She may not know what's going on, but she's rational. Maybe that fever burned off the rest of the drug.
"Easy," he said quietly, wanting to allay her fears. "No one's going to hurt you."
I would never hurt you, he wanted to tell her, stung by the mistrust he saw in her guarded expression. And we're going to make the sorry fools who tried to kill you pay.
Instead he turned back around, shifting the rear view mirror so he could see her without being turned away from the road.
"What's the last thing you remember?"
In the mirror, Scully glanced down, but not before he saw the flash of panic in her eyes. She frowned, almost as if debating whether or not to talk to him.
"I don't remember anything," she said quietly, and her eyes met his in the mirror again. They were dark, suspicious. "Where are you taking me?"
Mulder let his hopes rise- so far, she sounded like his Scully. He knew there'd be memories missing. Her confusion, her wariness, her systemic breakdown of the situation were all ways that Dana Scully would normally act upon waking up handcuffed to a car with no explanation.
If she was pulling out of it, she was probably still having a hard time separating what was real and what wasn't. He decided not to overload her with too much information just yet.
"Someplace safe," he said sincerely, promising to fill her in more later.
Her eyes found his in the reflection, careful and questioning. Her next words hurt bad, worse than he'd have thought they could.
"Who are you?"
We're not out of the woods yet, Scully, he remembered saying to her the night before; probably the last words he spoke to her before it wasn't her anymore, but the deadly, manipulative product of the drug's psychosis. The same was still true.
After a whispered curse Mulder caught himself, trying not to react in any way she could see. It made him ache with the realization of how much he missed her. They'd been together almost constantly for the past two days, but for most of that, she had not been his partner. Not knowing who was going to be there when she opened her eyes, or whether or not that person would try to kill him, was exhausting. He wanted it over.
Staying calm for the sake of reassuring her, he told her her name and his, compelling her to remember. Predictably, she weighed the truth of his words against the fact that she seemed a prisoner in the backseat.
Trust me, he wanted to say, I hated doing that.
But instead he tiredly explained the situation, giving just enough detail to sate her wary curiosities.
She almost looked ready to trust him when she was struck by a fresh wave of symptoms. Mulder's heart sank as she cried out from behind him, watching her clutch her head in agony and confusion.
He bit his tongue, knowing that she wouldn't even remember his comforting words if he spoke them. But when she called out, it was his name she cried. Still aware enough to communicate, she begged him not to release her, in case she tried to hurt him again.
Mulder kept his eyes on the road, trying not to listen as his partner lost control once more, as his most trusted friend slipped within moments of recognizing him to believing that she would kill him.
He fought the crushing hurt that accompanied her murderous words for the better part of an hour until she finally fell tired. Not long after, Mulder approached the hospital. As he flipped his phone open and dialed the number that would connect him to Dr. Shelly Hilton, he could still hear Scully mumbling weak but sincere threats at him from the back seat.
Hilton acknowledged his approach and promised to meet them at the back door. Anxious to be done with this, Mulder maneuvered the car quickly around to the rear wing of the hospital as directed, and saw light flooding out of an open door. Pulling up close to the sidewalk, Mulder took the keys out of the ignition and left Scully in the car to greet the woman standing in the doorway.
"Dr. Hilton?" He offered his hand as she approached. "I'm Fox Mulder, Dana's partner."
Shelly Hilton nodded, shaking his hand firmly and giving him a concerned smile. "It's nice to meet you, Agent Mulder, though I must say the circumstances are unfortunate."
Glancing to the backseat where Scully still lay handcuffed, she took him by the arm and walked a few paces back toward the door so they could talk without her overhearing. In the light from the hallway, Mulder saw her features more clearly; she was short and thin, though not as much of either as Scully. She was around his age, with smooth dark skin and a strong jaw. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, adding to the business-like demeanor already present in her scrubs and long lab coat.
"Based on what little we do know about Dana's condition, I'm a little conflicted about what to do with her," the doctor started, her expression troubled. "I'm going to want to give her fluids intravenously, as well as take some blood for testing. Whatever that may turn up, I may need to run more involved tests."
Mulder nodded, knowing this wasn't going to be easy. "I'll help in any way I can," he said solemnly.
"I'm sure I'll need it," Shelly said grimly. "Not knowing the exact nature of this substance, I'm hesitant to administer any other drugs. That being said, I think we can risk a mild sedative. The chances of Dana having a paranoid or violent reaction to these procedures and injuring someone are too great to proceed without every possible caution."
Her eyes flicked down to the bloody mess of shirt that was peeking out of his jacket. "I was told there may have already been injuries sustained," she edged.
"I'm fine," Mulder said curtly, pulling the jacket closed around his middle. "We can worry about that after Scully is taken care of."
Shelly nodded, having anticipated this response. "Good. At Mr. Skinner's request, I'm not involving any of my staff in this, so I'll likely need your help to get her…..situated."
"Of course," Mulder sighed, running a hand through his hair. "She's been fairly unpredictable for the past 20 hours or so, but it's safe to say she'll try to kill us if she gets a chance. I've got her cuffed to the door handle for now."
Stepping through the doorway, Shelly retrieved a wheeled stretcher and rolled it over to the car. Mulder saw that the straps, normally just soft velcro to hold an injured patient in place, were thick leather belts. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. Shelly looked at him with an expression of mixed nervousness and pity.
"Alright, let's get this over with," he said grimly. He walked back to the car and opened the rear door opposite from Scully.
XXX
Once again not certain who she was or what was happening, Scully huddled in the back of the car, trying to clear her head enough to remember. Outside in the dark, she heard a conversation held in quiet voices, too far away to make out any words. The voices belonged to a man and a woman, neither of whom she could see.
She felt nauseous, trying to keep her head upright as her body trembled. She knew she had to stay alert and find out what they were doing with her. When the door opened, she shrank back, recognizing the man immediately.
"You stay away from me, Hunt," she hissed as a garbled memory of her encounter with the doctor surfaced in her mind.
In the confines of the backseat, the distance she'd tried to put between them was useless. Hunt moved in, pinning her legs beneath his knee.
"We're taking you into the hospital now," he said as he reached to unlocked her handcuffs. "If you struggle, we'll have no choice but to sedate you."
Terrified by the words 'hospital' and 'sedate', Scully did struggle, thrashing against his arms and trying to brace her feet against the frame of the car door. "No!" she cried, her voice thick with fear. "Get off me!"
It was no use; her captor was far bigger and stronger than she, and in moments had her out and pinned against the side of the car. The closeness of his body at her back repulsed her and she pulled against his grip harder, her breath coming in panicked gasps as he forcefully stretched out her left arm.
"No!" Scully yelled, more desperately this time as she saw another set of hands approach her vulnerable exposed skin with a syringe. She flashed back to the men in the lab again, certain that they were dosing her with more of the drug.
The needle pricked, the plunger pushed down, and the small, dark hands disappeared. As Scully slowly lost the ability to fight back, the pressure behind her disappeared, only to return under her legs a moment later. Her world tipped as someone lifted her off her feet.
Scully weakly tried to struggle as she was set down on the stretcher, and Hunt's accomplice began tightening straps around her wrists. A wave of crushing betrayal swept over her as she recognized the woman. "Shelly?" she choked, feeling tears form in her eyes. "Oh my God, you're part of this."
It was too much to handle. She remembered Hunt and the syringe in the lab, she remembered shooting Mulder, but seeing her old med school friend being the one to strap her down and inject her was the breaking point. Scully collapsed against the gurney and started to cry.
"Please, no more," she begged as the wheeled her through the back door into the hospital. "Please, you already m-made me kill my partner. Goddamn you! Mulder's d-dead...I don't know what else you want."
She clenched her fists weakly against the restraints as she felt the haze of the sedative numb her body and mind, heartbroken at her own powerlessness. "I don't know what else…..you..want…"
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