Chapter 28
Mercy Hospital San Diego, CA.
Scully lay back against the pillows of her hospital bed and fought to keep her eyes open. A numbing fatigue had settled over her and more than anything else she wanted to succumb to it, but she forced herself to stay awake.
Since checking in to the hospital four days ago, she had seemed to spend the majority of her time sleeping, and she knew that it was a combination of the light tranquilizers that were being fed in to her system and also her bodies need to process recent events.
She now had a good idea as to what had happened to her.
She had regained consciousness to find Skinner by her bed, looking more tired and used up than she had ever seen him before. He had filled her in, silently passing her the results of a Toxicology screen that had been run to determine the reasons for her bizarre behaviour. Despite her training, Scully had never encountered a mix of drugs like this, and although most of the separate elements could be identified, some could not. Scully doubted that they ever would.
The memories planted in her head were fading, although some re-surfaced in her dreams - dreams that were plagued with the one image she couldn't shake - the sight of her partner laying bleeding on the floor of the room in which she had been medically duped.
The room where she had almost killed him.
She had received only sketchy details of his condition, and although she had been assured by Skinner that he would suffer no long term physical effects from his injury, she could not shake the over whelming sense of guilt at what she had done.
Skinner had been supportive, but he was in an awkward position, having to explain how one of his agents had come to shoot her own partner, and Scully knew that the Brass in Washington wanted answers that they just couldn't give them.
She needed desperately to see Mulder, but Skinner had gently persuaded her that it might not be such a good idea until she was feeling more like herself.
Initially, Scully had argued, but had slowly come to realise that Skinner was right. Until her condition was fully understood, and under control, it was best for all concerned if she were segregated from her partner.
Scully frowned, she wasn't even sure if she still had a partner.
How would they continue to work together after everything that had happened? They had been through a lot together, but she had tried to kill him, and the reasons for it just didn't seem to cut any ice with her anymore. She should have trusted him, and despite the drugs, she should have realised that he would never betray her in the way that had been suggested to her.
Her body was healing. The wound had turned out to be nothing more than a deep surgical incision through skin and muscle - designed to reinforce the lies being fed to her. But her mind was taking a little longer as she continued to torture herself as to what she had done and she didn't know whether or not she would ever be able to let the images rest.
She wouldn't know until she saw her partner again.
XXXX
12:47 p.m.
"So how are you feeling?"
Skinner eyed Mulder suspiciously as the younger man shrugged.
"I'm okay I guess."
He narrowed his eyes.
"I'd be better if you'd let me see Scully."
Skinner shook his head firmly.
"Out of the question, Mulder. But we've already been through this, right?"
Mulder laughed hollowly.
"You think she's a danger to me? That's bullshit. And we both know it."
He tried another tack, lowering his voice.
"I just need to see that she's okay"
"She's alright Mulder and I want to make sure she stays alright."
"And you think if she sees me she won't be alright. Is that it?"
Skinner looked down at the younger man and frowned. Mulder had, for the last two days, insisted that he was healing rapidly, but his horrible pallor and the Doctor's absolute refusal to let him even sit upright, much less allow him up out of bed, all spoke otherwise.
Not to mention the fact that he was suffering from far more than a simple gunshot wound. He could try and hide it as much as he wanted, but Skinner could see it plainly displayed on his face every time the subject came up.
It was hurt.
Plain and simple.
He had been betrayed in the worst way by the one he trusted the most and until he was given the opportunity he needed, to speak to Scully and see for himself that she was indeed okay, that feeling wouldn't go away.
"How is she doing?" he asked Skinner for what seemed like the hundredth time since he had been brought here.
Skinner shrugged.
"She's still weak. They're keeping her lightly medicated to ensure she gets some rest"
"I want to go to her."
Mulder reminded Skinner of a petulant child, denied access to a favourite toy.
Told over and over that the toy was broken but still wanting it regardless. But right now, it was a risk he wasn't prepared to take. Not until they were both stronger.
"No way, Mulder."
Mulder closed his eyes briefly, remembering the look on Scully's face as she had pointed her gun at him. The hurt in her eyes as she pulled the trigger. It was all he remembered of that night now. The other memories were sketchy, faded in his mind. But his partner's face was still there.
It haunted him.
Her bullet had passed straight through him, miraculously missing all his major organs. But the soft tissue damage had been intense and painful. For two days he had floated along on the back of a drug induced haze and, by the time he had regained any semblance of normality, Skinner had effectively taken over the investigation.
Investigation was possibly too weak a word now. Manhunt would be more accurate as the search for John Wickham intensified.
Not surprisingly, they had turned up nothing.
Mulder doubted they ever would. In all probability he was already dead because, although Mulder was still slightly unsure as to what had been the purpose of his old Academy buddy's involvement in all of this, he had no doubt that whatever it was, he had failed. Mulder had unique insight into the way these men worked. He doubted that such a failure would be taken lightly.
He also knew that Skinner had ordered a full and thorough search of the abandoned medical facility where Scully had been held. That too had turned up nothing.
Pramgen Pharmaceuticals had been thoroughly questioned and had remained adamant that the lease on the sanatorium had been made ahead of time in order to acquire the necessary authority from the city planners for a complete renovation of the building. The purpose of which was to eventually turn into a private facility to house patients during drug tests. They had covered themselves well, presenting the necessary documentation when it was requested of them. The organisation was apparently, squeaky clean and above reproach.
There was absolutely no proof that they had even been aware that a part of the building had been occupied illegally.
There had been no trace of the child that Mulder could remember seeing so clearly staring back at him from within the communications room. Skinner had questioned him gently, suggesting that maybe his perceptions had been clouded after everything he had been through. Certainly, the information given to him by Mulder had been sketchy at best as the younger Agent briefly regained consciousness as they waited for the EMT's to arrive, gasping out the words as he struggled against the pain.
Similarly, there had been no sign of Christine Stevens.
On checking the San Diego database Skinner had discovered that no woman of that name or description had been placed in protective custody within the last month.
Mulder had simply nodded when he had been enlightened of this fact.
He had obviously been expecting it.
Skinner regarded the younger man in front of him worriedly. It had been four days now since the shooting and Mulder still appeared to be extremely ill. It took time to recover, Skinner knew that, but while ever he continued to punish himself with self-recrimination over what had happened, he was just prolonging the healing process.
Just like always, Mulder was blaming himself.
Skinner got to his feet.
"You need to rest. I'll see you later."
He headed for the door, pausing before reaching it.
"And Mulder? You even attempt to get up out of that bed and I'll shoot you myself."
Continued
