Title: Blessed Union of Souls II: Deep Water 09/17
Author: Somogyi
Email: somogyi02@yahoo.com
Category: SRA
Rating: R for language, adult situations
Spoilers: Through Season Six
Keywords: M/S UST, S/Other Romance
Summary: Sequel to "Not the Doctor." Their partnership on shaky ground, Mulder
and Scully are called in to investigate the mysterious death of two teenagers in
a Hawaiian cave. While exploring the crime scene and its vicinity, they are
trapped by a cave-in. Will they be able to find their way out--without killing
each other first?
Disclaimer: The X-Files, Dana Scully, Fox Mulder, and all other characters
associated with the series are the property of Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen
Productions, and the Fox Network. Characters are used without permission and no
profit is being made.
*****
Blessed Union of Souls II: Deep Water
by Somogyi
somogyi02@yahoo.com
Chapter 9
The SEAL commander had no time to dodge the huge chunk of rock that was hurtling
toward his precarious perch on the chasm wall.
So he did the only thing he could: he rappelled, faster and faster downwards,
sparing only a fleeting glance upwards. His gut tightened with trepidation.
Rappelling downward was not going to help anymore, he had to move . . . NOW!
With only seconds to spare, he used the force of his latest leap to push off
sideways and away from the wall, hoping that by the time he swung back again the
rock would have fallen past. His body moved in a graceful arc away from the
falling rock.
Above him, the observers breathed a collective sigh of relief.
But it seemed they had relaxed too soon, for as RB went flying back towards the
wall, he realized that he had miscalculated the timing: the rock, which was
still hurtling downward in a motion roughly parallel to the cliff face, was now
directly in his path. To his horror, he realized that he was headed straight for
the spot where the rock was going to impact with the wall.
To blunt the inevitable collision, he did much as Robbins had attempted earlier:
he threw up his feet to intercept most of the impact. Only he did not twist
sideways as Robbins had, and the soles of his boots contacted the rock. He was
pushed straight backwards, the force of the impact jarring his knees and
snapping his jaw shut with a loud crack.
This time, when he arced back toward the wall, there was no boulder in his path.
He kept swaying, a helpless pendulum. One heart-stopping swing. . . then a
second . . . a third . . . and fourth one . . . before almost blindly, on a
stroke of luck, he managed to snag a foothold and slow the dizzying motion.
Finally stationary, RB hugged the cliff face, taking in gulpfuls of air. He soon
gazed upward and saw Socks' grinning face staring down at him.
"Pull me up!" he called.
After several moments, he began to be hoisted upwards, unmindful of the still
falling debris. There was not a lot of force behind the tug, and RB did some
climbing himself to hasten his ascent. When he reached the top of the cliff-
face, Socks grabbed fistfuls of his tunic and helped hoist him over the edge.
Laying there on his belly, RB allowed himself another moment to catch his
breath.
"You did it, Mark!" Socks exclaimed, clasping him on the back. "You crazy
motherfucker, you did it!"
"Was there ever any doubt?" Grinning, RB raised his head and looked around. Only
Socks remained in sight. "C'mon, bud, let's get the hell out of here."
Nodding, Socks held out his hand and helped RB to his feet. Together, the two
SEALs sprinted down the tunnel, dodging falling debris. Soon they caught up with
the others, who had stopped to wait out the latest quake in a more sheltered
area of the cave.
As he came to a halt, RB caught sight of Scully kneeling beside Robbins' prone
form.
"Move the light closer, Mulder!" she barked.
Her partner complied, crouching down and readjusting the beam of the light
Toller had given him from his belt to better illuminate Robbins' injured leg.
The leg jutted out from his side at mid-calf level, and amidst the ragged,
bleeding flesh, the light reflected off the glistening white of a jagged edge of
exposed bone.
Toller knelt beside Scully. He was using his knife to cut away Robbins' pant
leg.
"Socks, grab some light sticks," RB said, already reaching into his pocket for a
pair. The two SEALs shook and snapped the sticks, mixing the chemicals contained
in the flexible plastic tubes, and set them up near where the others had
gathered around Robbins.
Though RB had no idea where they came from, he now saw that Scully had managed
to don a pair of latex gloves. She was gently examining the injured area. "Looks
like a grade three open fracture of the left tibia and fibula."
"We'll have to set it and splint it," RB said, moving closer. He noted with
relief that the tremors in the cave seemed to be subsiding.
"I'm also going to have to bandage it to prevent further contamination," Scully
added. "Normally, I wouldn't want to manipulate the leg, because I could cause
further damage. But, unfortunately, it's going to be virtually impossible to
bandage the injury and transport him comfortably without my trying to reduce the
fracture and stabilize the leg. So you're right, Commander--first things first.
I suggest somebody restrain him. This is not going to be pleasant."
Nodding, RB gestured to Socks, and they moved over toward Robbins' head.
Kneeling on either side of him, they each pressed their weight on one of his
shoulders, using their free hands to grasp each of his in turn.
"Hang in there, Eric," Socks said. "It's gonna be okay."
"Fuck the macho act," RB told him plainly. "You wanna scream, you scream and
yell bloody murder. That's an order, soldier."
"Robbins," Scully called, trying to get his attention, "I'm going to set your
leg. I'm sorry, but this is going to hurt," she warned him. "You ready?"
Pale face slick with perspiration, Robbins nodded weakly. It was only then that
Scully realized how young the soldier was: he could not have been a day over
twenty. Her heart went out to the young man, who had no choice but to endure
such a painful injury and her makeshift treatment under such horrendous
conditions.
"Okay. On three. One . . . two . . . three!" Scully carefully gripped his leg
and moved it back into position slowly to fatigue the muscles and thus hopefully
avoid causing any further injury.
Robbins bellowed loudly, his pain-laced howls echoing throughout the small cave
chamber. "Jesus fucking Christ!" he gasped, even as he struggled to draw a full
breath. "Oh sweet Jesus! Lord have fucking mercy!"
"Easy does it, kid," RB said gently. "It's over." He watched as Robbins' eyes
suddenly rolled back. "Robbins?" he asked, gently shaking him. "Eric, can you
hear me?" he asked again, gently tapping his cheek with the back of his hand.
"Shit! I think he passed out."
"Probably just as well," Scully said."Just feel for his pulse. Let me know if it
gets weak."
"All right," RB said, feeling the side of his neck. He was silent for several
long seconds. "Got it!" he announced finally. "Strong and steady."
"Good." Scully surveyed the damage. "The wound's covered in dust and dirt, and
we don't want all that seeping around in there--not with exposed bone. I need to
clean the wound. Does anyone have anything I can use to flush this out?"
"My canteen's pretty full," Toller offered her.
"Open it," she commanded. "Now, pour it over the wound. Slowly."
Toller knelt down beside her and did as she asked.
"Good, now over here," she said, directing the flow of water.
"That's an awful lot of blood," Toller remarked.
Scully's brow furrowed. There *was* a lot of blood being flushed out along with
the dirt and water. "Hold up!" she said, raising a hand. She gently examined the
wound more closely. Suddenly, she was splattered in the face with blood. "Shit!
He's got a bleeder! Probably the anterior or posterior tibial. If we don't stop
it, he's going to bleed out! Toller," she said, realizing he was closest, "I
need you to make a make-shift tourniquet. Tie it around his leg, right below the
knee."
"What should I use?"
"Anything! Just hurry!"
"Here," Mulder said, pulling off his jacket. "Use the sleeve."
"I'm going to have to try to tie off the vessel," Scully continued, already
formulating a mental list of the items she would require. "I need something
absorbent to sop up some of this blood. A hemostats or something small to probe
the area with and to clamp off the vessel. Some kind of suture material, along
with a knife or scissors to cut it with. Do any of you have some sort of fine
wire? Thread? Dental floss? Anything?"
"I've got some fishing line," Socks said, reaching into one of the pockets of
his BDUs.
"Will this do for a clamp?" RB asked, handing her a needle-nosed pliers.
"Perfect," she said, snatching it from him.
"Here's a towel," Mulder said, tossing her a small cloth from his satchel.
"How big a piece ya want?" Socks asked, pulling out his own knife along with the
fishing line.
"Cut me off a couple pieces a little over a foot long," Scully told him.
"Toller, use your hands to add to the pressure on that tourniquet. Mulder, get
that damned light closer."
Robbins moaned as Toller squeezed on his leg.
"Looks like he's starting to come 'round," RB said. He watched as the young
SEAL's eyes slowly fluttered open.
"Here ya go, Scully," Socks said, holding out the pieces of fishing line.
"Just give me a sec to isolate the vessel," she said, using the tip of the
pliers to poke around the area.
Gritting his teeth, Robbins moaned, even as he reached up to grasp his
commander's sleeve with knuckle-whitening tightness. "RB . . . how . .. how bad
. . . is it? . . . Am . . . Am I . . . gonna . . . lose my leg?"
"Not if I have anything to say about it, Robbins," Scully assured him. "Just
stay with us."
"You sure you know what you're doing there, Red?" Socks asked from over her
shoulder.
"She's a doctor," Mulder informed him. "Or did you think she picked this up in
the girl scouts?"
"No shit? What the hell is an MD doing working for the Bureau?" Socks asked, his
tone belligerent, but non-confrontational. "Aren't you supposed to get the big
bucks from private practice?"
"It was an act of rebellion," Scully said, "to piss my parents off. Got it!" she
said, squeezing on the pliers. "Socks, hold these for me," she told him. "Not
too hard, you don't want to tear the vessel wall, but not so loose as to let the
blood seep through."
He handed Mulder the fishing line. "Christ!" Socks muttered, surprised by how
much his hands were shaking as he took the pliers from her. In his years as a
Navy SEAL, he had gone on countless covert missions, detonated bombs, parachuted
from planes in the dead of night, dodged enemy fire, killed and maimed dozens of
men with many different weapons and various forms of hand-to-hand combat. But
none of that held a candle to assisting with emergency surgery on one of his
teammates.
"That's it. Nice, even pressure. Okay, where's that suture material?"
"Here, Scully," Mulder said, handing a piece to her.
"Hope I can remember the friction knot," Scully muttered as she attempted to tie
off the vessel.
"I take it you're not a surgeon," RB said.
"Forensic pathologist," Scully replied as her fingers moved deftly, twisting the
fine wire this way and that.
"In other words, you usually cut 'em open, not sew 'em back up?"
"You could say that. Ta da! Just like riding a bike. Scissors!" she called,
holding out her palm.
"That pliers is also a wire cutter," RB informed her.
"I'll be damned. Just like an Olsen-Hegar. Socks, just hold on another minute. I
want to place another suture in case this one slips and then I'll trim 'em both
at once."
Mulder handed her the other piece of fishing line, and Scully tied another knot.
"Socks, go ahead and ease up on the pressure, and then slowly move the pliers
away," Scully said. After he returned the pliers to her, she carefully trimmed
the ends off of the knots, handing the remaining pieces of line back to Mulder.
Then she gently dabbed the area with the towel.
"So far so good. Now I just have to find the other end of the vessel. It should
be in the distal end of the break."
They all watched in silence as Scully continued her exploratory surgery, now
fishing for the other piece of severed artery. Her brow was furrowed in
concentration. Perspiration beaded on her upper lip. Frustrated, she was
beginning to fear that she would not be able to find it.
*Calm down, Dana. It's there. It's gotta be.* She used the cloth to blot away
some blood, and then observed carefully. She noticed an area where a small
amount of blood began to pool. Looking closer at that spot, she finally found
her quarry. "I think . . . Got it!"
There was a collective sigh of relief as she clamped the pliers. "Socks?"
"Right here, Doc," he said, relieving her. "Mulder has the fishing line."
"Great." Scully took it from him and tied two more knots. Socks removed the
clamp, and she trimmed the edges and then gently blotted the area. She had
Toller remove the tourniquet, and then she watched for several long seconds. "I
think the bleeding's finally stopped." She paused to wipe the perspiration from
her forehead with her sleeve.
"Way to go, Doc!" Socks said, playfully slapping her on the back.
"Yeah, great job, Scully!" Mulder said, beaming in praise of his partner's
skill. It was not very often that she got to use her medical knowledge ante
mortem, and he sometimes forgot what a skilled physician she could be.
"How ya holdin' up, Robbins?" RB asked, looking down at the injured SEAL.
Robbins opened his eyes and managed a small smile. "Doin' okay, Skipper."
Scully gently touched Robbins' foot, was relieved to find that it was still
relatively warm. Then she felt the area right above his ankle with two fingers.
She sighed softly when she felt the pulse beneath the area of injury; both of
these were a good sign that his lower leg and foot were still receiving adequate
vascular flow.
"Now we just have to find some material to use to bandage and splint the leg,"
Scully said, looking around expectantly. "I'd like to do a Robert Jones, so I'm
going to need plenty of padding," she explained, already removing her own
windbreaker.
RB looked at each of his men in turn. "Help her out, guys," he said, already
pulling off his helmet and the black balaclava he wore beneath. Toller and Socks
began to follow suit, removing their own cloth caps. "Take the shirts of your
backs if you've got to. Hop to it!"
A few minutes later, the SEALs had gathered several pieces of material from
various items of clothing, which she used to wrap around Robbins' leg from knee
to ankle to completely immobilize it, along with the resin sheaths from RB and
Socks' six-inch combat knives to serve as a splint. RB handed her his own
personal roll of duct tape to use to keep it all together. Satisfied that it was
stable, but not too tight so as to impinge on the compromised blood supply,
Scully used Mulder's backpack to elevate the leg. She then checked on Robbins'
vitals before getting up and walking to the far end of the passageway to stretch
her own legs.
Issuing Robbins a few encouraging words, RB left him under Toller's watchful eye
and followed Scully. She sat leaning against the wall, forehead resting on her
knees.
"Drink?" he asked, offering her his canteen.
She looked up at him and smiled gratefully. "Thanks," she said, taking it from
him. Tipping her head back, she took several greedy swallows before wiping her
mouth with the back of her hand and holding it out to him.
"You've, uhm, got some blood on your cheek. You might want to use a little to
get it off."
"Oh. I forgot about that." She wet one of her hands and scrubbed at her face for
a bit. "Did I get it all?" she asked, turning her head to give him a better
view.
"Almost."
Scully rubbed at her face again. "Now?"
"Here, let me." RB reached over and gently rubbed at her cheek with his thumb.
"There. Good as new."
"Thank you," she said, handing him back his canteen.
He hesitated for a moment, as though searching for the right words. "What you
did back there with Robbins--that was amazing," he said before taking a long
drag from the canteen.
Scully looked up at him, watching the way his adam's apple bobbed as he
swallowed.
"It was no big deal," she replied. "Just glad I could help."
"No big deal? No big deal! Fuck, Scully, you just saved his life! If you weren't
here, we would have straightened out his leg, taped it up, and then he would
have bled to death before we got a hundred feet. So don't tell me it's no big
deal."
She felt her face grow warm, and was glad that he would not be able to see it in
the near-darkness. "Hey, you're the one who rappelled down the side of a ravine,
dodging falling stalactites and boulders to save him in the first place. That
was one hell of a crazy stunt. It was incredibly courageous of you, putting your
life on the line like that."
"He's one of my men. As far as I'm concerned, any one of us would've done the
same thing. Besides, that was pure adrenaline and testosterone. What you did,
that required knowledge. Skill. Talent."
"Like anyone could move down a cliff-face like you did? But let's not sing each
other's praises too much. He's not out of the woodsyet. We need to get him to a
hospital ASAP. He needs proper medical attention, surgery. He's at incredible
risk for an infection, not to mention vascular compromise. I didn't find any
other major problems when I looked him over before tending to his leg, but,
still, God knows what other injuries he might have that we can't detect. And we
need to monitor him for signs of shock."
"All I know is, Robbins got another chance because of you. For that, I just
wanted to say thanks," he told her, holding out his hand.
"You're welcome, Commander," she said, taking it. His fingers closed around her
smaller hand, holding tight. She smiled up at him warmly.
"Oh, I believe this is yours," he said, reaching to the back of his belt and
producing her gun. "I thought you might like to have it back." He silently
handed it to her. Then he turned to leave. He took only a step or so before
turning back. "Riskey," he called to her.
"Excuse me?"
"That's my name. Mark Riskey. I figured it was high time we were properly
introduced."
She smiled at him again. "A pleasure to meet you, Mark Riskey."
"Believe me, Doc, the pleasure's all mine." Returning the smile, he walked back
to where the others were gathered. "Let's take five more minutes, gentlemen, and
then we'll head out."
Scully watched as Commander Riskey stopped to talk to Robbins and Toller before
settling down next to Socks. The latter pulled out his tracking device, and they
looked it over together--no doubt plotting their next course.
There was definitely more to him than she had initially thought. He was not the
pompous, overbearing, arrogant bastard she had assumed him to be. He was a good
soldier, a competent leader, a compassionate man who cared about his friends and
teammates. And he was one hell of a risk taker, willing to put his life on the
line for one of his own. The intense loyalty he demonstrated was a trait she
valued strongly. And that kind of selfless bravery was incredibly attractive. As
was the man himself. It had been a long time since Scully had been so intrigued
by a man. Interesting. Very interesting indeed.
"Looks like you got your weapon back, too," came Mulder's voice.
Scully gave a start, and looked up to see him standing above her. Apparently,
she had been so engrossed in her thoughts she had not noticed his approach.
"Yeah, it seems Commander Riskey had a change of heart."
"Riskey, huh? Name suits him. Though it seems giving you your gun was not the
only thing he shared."
Scully grinned.
"I'd say that had a lot to do with your little MacGyver maneuver back there. You
give new meaning to the phrase 'necessity is the mother of invention'."
She arched an eyebrow. "If that's supposed to be a compliment, then thanks,
Mulder."
"It is, Scully. I, uh . . . I guess you don't hear those from me very often.
Uhm, perhaps it's time I changed that."
She glanced up at him, astonished. She helped save one person's life, and now
all the men around her were suddenly turning over new leaves? What the hell was
going on? Perhaps she should exploit this doctor-as-healer role more often.
"So, you think we can trust them?" Mulder asked her.
"I think so. Before crossing the ravine, I wasn't too sure. But right now, I
think they owe us enough to not leave us behind and to make sure we get out of
here alive."
"Why do you think they're down here?"
"Looking for something."
"But what? You think it has anything to do with the murders?"
"I don't know, Mulder. Why don't you ask Socks? It seems like he's your new
buddy now."
"Actually, I was hoping you could ask Riskey. Especially now that he seems to
have. . . ." his voice trailed off abruptly.
Scully looked up at him expectantly. "Now that he seems to have what?"
Mulder hesitated. He really did not want to put voice to the words. Though it
was not as though his speaking them aloud would first put the idea in Scully's
head; after their little trip across the ravine, the seed had already been
planted. "Now that he seems . . . indebted to you," Mulder settled upon.
Scully gave him a knowing smile. After nearly seven years together, the subtext
was obvious. "I can give it a try."
"Let's go! Time to move out!" Riskey called to them. "Socks, you take point.
I'll carry Robbins. Toller, you take up the rear." He looked over to where
Mulder and Scully were talking. "You coming, Agents?"
"Be right there!" Scully called, giving a little wave. "No rest for the weary,"
she sighed.
"Well, with all these cave-ins, I'd just as soon get the hell out of here,"
Mulder said, holding out his hands to help pull Scully to her feet.
"You know, Mulder, for the first time during this godforsaken case, I think I
agree with you," she said as she walked over to Robbins to give him the once-
over. She was relieved to find that he appeared relatively stable, given the
extent of his injuries.
"First time for everything, huh, Scully?" Mulder asked as they took their spots
in the middle of the procession.
Scully was only half-listening, her attention now focused on the man in front of
her. She watched as Riskey hoisted Robbins into a fireman's carry. He barely
shrugged under the weight--which was amazing, considering the younger man's
hefty build. At first, Robbins protested being toted around, but his commander
quickly quelled his complaints, explaining that they could cover more ground
this way. With that, they were off.
*Yes, indeed,* Scully thought as she watched Riskey's backside and his powerful,
commanding stride during their hike. *There's definitely a first time for
everything.*
End Chapter 9
*****
Author: Somogyi
Email: somogyi02@yahoo.com
Category: SRA
Rating: R for language, adult situations
Spoilers: Through Season Six
Keywords: M/S UST, S/Other Romance
Summary: Sequel to "Not the Doctor." Their partnership on shaky ground, Mulder
and Scully are called in to investigate the mysterious death of two teenagers in
a Hawaiian cave. While exploring the crime scene and its vicinity, they are
trapped by a cave-in. Will they be able to find their way out--without killing
each other first?
Disclaimer: The X-Files, Dana Scully, Fox Mulder, and all other characters
associated with the series are the property of Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen
Productions, and the Fox Network. Characters are used without permission and no
profit is being made.
*****
Blessed Union of Souls II: Deep Water
by Somogyi
somogyi02@yahoo.com
Chapter 9
The SEAL commander had no time to dodge the huge chunk of rock that was hurtling
toward his precarious perch on the chasm wall.
So he did the only thing he could: he rappelled, faster and faster downwards,
sparing only a fleeting glance upwards. His gut tightened with trepidation.
Rappelling downward was not going to help anymore, he had to move . . . NOW!
With only seconds to spare, he used the force of his latest leap to push off
sideways and away from the wall, hoping that by the time he swung back again the
rock would have fallen past. His body moved in a graceful arc away from the
falling rock.
Above him, the observers breathed a collective sigh of relief.
But it seemed they had relaxed too soon, for as RB went flying back towards the
wall, he realized that he had miscalculated the timing: the rock, which was
still hurtling downward in a motion roughly parallel to the cliff face, was now
directly in his path. To his horror, he realized that he was headed straight for
the spot where the rock was going to impact with the wall.
To blunt the inevitable collision, he did much as Robbins had attempted earlier:
he threw up his feet to intercept most of the impact. Only he did not twist
sideways as Robbins had, and the soles of his boots contacted the rock. He was
pushed straight backwards, the force of the impact jarring his knees and
snapping his jaw shut with a loud crack.
This time, when he arced back toward the wall, there was no boulder in his path.
He kept swaying, a helpless pendulum. One heart-stopping swing. . . then a
second . . . a third . . . and fourth one . . . before almost blindly, on a
stroke of luck, he managed to snag a foothold and slow the dizzying motion.
Finally stationary, RB hugged the cliff face, taking in gulpfuls of air. He soon
gazed upward and saw Socks' grinning face staring down at him.
"Pull me up!" he called.
After several moments, he began to be hoisted upwards, unmindful of the still
falling debris. There was not a lot of force behind the tug, and RB did some
climbing himself to hasten his ascent. When he reached the top of the cliff-
face, Socks grabbed fistfuls of his tunic and helped hoist him over the edge.
Laying there on his belly, RB allowed himself another moment to catch his
breath.
"You did it, Mark!" Socks exclaimed, clasping him on the back. "You crazy
motherfucker, you did it!"
"Was there ever any doubt?" Grinning, RB raised his head and looked around. Only
Socks remained in sight. "C'mon, bud, let's get the hell out of here."
Nodding, Socks held out his hand and helped RB to his feet. Together, the two
SEALs sprinted down the tunnel, dodging falling debris. Soon they caught up with
the others, who had stopped to wait out the latest quake in a more sheltered
area of the cave.
As he came to a halt, RB caught sight of Scully kneeling beside Robbins' prone
form.
"Move the light closer, Mulder!" she barked.
Her partner complied, crouching down and readjusting the beam of the light
Toller had given him from his belt to better illuminate Robbins' injured leg.
The leg jutted out from his side at mid-calf level, and amidst the ragged,
bleeding flesh, the light reflected off the glistening white of a jagged edge of
exposed bone.
Toller knelt beside Scully. He was using his knife to cut away Robbins' pant
leg.
"Socks, grab some light sticks," RB said, already reaching into his pocket for a
pair. The two SEALs shook and snapped the sticks, mixing the chemicals contained
in the flexible plastic tubes, and set them up near where the others had
gathered around Robbins.
Though RB had no idea where they came from, he now saw that Scully had managed
to don a pair of latex gloves. She was gently examining the injured area. "Looks
like a grade three open fracture of the left tibia and fibula."
"We'll have to set it and splint it," RB said, moving closer. He noted with
relief that the tremors in the cave seemed to be subsiding.
"I'm also going to have to bandage it to prevent further contamination," Scully
added. "Normally, I wouldn't want to manipulate the leg, because I could cause
further damage. But, unfortunately, it's going to be virtually impossible to
bandage the injury and transport him comfortably without my trying to reduce the
fracture and stabilize the leg. So you're right, Commander--first things first.
I suggest somebody restrain him. This is not going to be pleasant."
Nodding, RB gestured to Socks, and they moved over toward Robbins' head.
Kneeling on either side of him, they each pressed their weight on one of his
shoulders, using their free hands to grasp each of his in turn.
"Hang in there, Eric," Socks said. "It's gonna be okay."
"Fuck the macho act," RB told him plainly. "You wanna scream, you scream and
yell bloody murder. That's an order, soldier."
"Robbins," Scully called, trying to get his attention, "I'm going to set your
leg. I'm sorry, but this is going to hurt," she warned him. "You ready?"
Pale face slick with perspiration, Robbins nodded weakly. It was only then that
Scully realized how young the soldier was: he could not have been a day over
twenty. Her heart went out to the young man, who had no choice but to endure
such a painful injury and her makeshift treatment under such horrendous
conditions.
"Okay. On three. One . . . two . . . three!" Scully carefully gripped his leg
and moved it back into position slowly to fatigue the muscles and thus hopefully
avoid causing any further injury.
Robbins bellowed loudly, his pain-laced howls echoing throughout the small cave
chamber. "Jesus fucking Christ!" he gasped, even as he struggled to draw a full
breath. "Oh sweet Jesus! Lord have fucking mercy!"
"Easy does it, kid," RB said gently. "It's over." He watched as Robbins' eyes
suddenly rolled back. "Robbins?" he asked, gently shaking him. "Eric, can you
hear me?" he asked again, gently tapping his cheek with the back of his hand.
"Shit! I think he passed out."
"Probably just as well," Scully said."Just feel for his pulse. Let me know if it
gets weak."
"All right," RB said, feeling the side of his neck. He was silent for several
long seconds. "Got it!" he announced finally. "Strong and steady."
"Good." Scully surveyed the damage. "The wound's covered in dust and dirt, and
we don't want all that seeping around in there--not with exposed bone. I need to
clean the wound. Does anyone have anything I can use to flush this out?"
"My canteen's pretty full," Toller offered her.
"Open it," she commanded. "Now, pour it over the wound. Slowly."
Toller knelt down beside her and did as she asked.
"Good, now over here," she said, directing the flow of water.
"That's an awful lot of blood," Toller remarked.
Scully's brow furrowed. There *was* a lot of blood being flushed out along with
the dirt and water. "Hold up!" she said, raising a hand. She gently examined the
wound more closely. Suddenly, she was splattered in the face with blood. "Shit!
He's got a bleeder! Probably the anterior or posterior tibial. If we don't stop
it, he's going to bleed out! Toller," she said, realizing he was closest, "I
need you to make a make-shift tourniquet. Tie it around his leg, right below the
knee."
"What should I use?"
"Anything! Just hurry!"
"Here," Mulder said, pulling off his jacket. "Use the sleeve."
"I'm going to have to try to tie off the vessel," Scully continued, already
formulating a mental list of the items she would require. "I need something
absorbent to sop up some of this blood. A hemostats or something small to probe
the area with and to clamp off the vessel. Some kind of suture material, along
with a knife or scissors to cut it with. Do any of you have some sort of fine
wire? Thread? Dental floss? Anything?"
"I've got some fishing line," Socks said, reaching into one of the pockets of
his BDUs.
"Will this do for a clamp?" RB asked, handing her a needle-nosed pliers.
"Perfect," she said, snatching it from him.
"Here's a towel," Mulder said, tossing her a small cloth from his satchel.
"How big a piece ya want?" Socks asked, pulling out his own knife along with the
fishing line.
"Cut me off a couple pieces a little over a foot long," Scully told him.
"Toller, use your hands to add to the pressure on that tourniquet. Mulder, get
that damned light closer."
Robbins moaned as Toller squeezed on his leg.
"Looks like he's starting to come 'round," RB said. He watched as the young
SEAL's eyes slowly fluttered open.
"Here ya go, Scully," Socks said, holding out the pieces of fishing line.
"Just give me a sec to isolate the vessel," she said, using the tip of the
pliers to poke around the area.
Gritting his teeth, Robbins moaned, even as he reached up to grasp his
commander's sleeve with knuckle-whitening tightness. "RB . . . how . .. how bad
. . . is it? . . . Am . . . Am I . . . gonna . . . lose my leg?"
"Not if I have anything to say about it, Robbins," Scully assured him. "Just
stay with us."
"You sure you know what you're doing there, Red?" Socks asked from over her
shoulder.
"She's a doctor," Mulder informed him. "Or did you think she picked this up in
the girl scouts?"
"No shit? What the hell is an MD doing working for the Bureau?" Socks asked, his
tone belligerent, but non-confrontational. "Aren't you supposed to get the big
bucks from private practice?"
"It was an act of rebellion," Scully said, "to piss my parents off. Got it!" she
said, squeezing on the pliers. "Socks, hold these for me," she told him. "Not
too hard, you don't want to tear the vessel wall, but not so loose as to let the
blood seep through."
He handed Mulder the fishing line. "Christ!" Socks muttered, surprised by how
much his hands were shaking as he took the pliers from her. In his years as a
Navy SEAL, he had gone on countless covert missions, detonated bombs, parachuted
from planes in the dead of night, dodged enemy fire, killed and maimed dozens of
men with many different weapons and various forms of hand-to-hand combat. But
none of that held a candle to assisting with emergency surgery on one of his
teammates.
"That's it. Nice, even pressure. Okay, where's that suture material?"
"Here, Scully," Mulder said, handing a piece to her.
"Hope I can remember the friction knot," Scully muttered as she attempted to tie
off the vessel.
"I take it you're not a surgeon," RB said.
"Forensic pathologist," Scully replied as her fingers moved deftly, twisting the
fine wire this way and that.
"In other words, you usually cut 'em open, not sew 'em back up?"
"You could say that. Ta da! Just like riding a bike. Scissors!" she called,
holding out her palm.
"That pliers is also a wire cutter," RB informed her.
"I'll be damned. Just like an Olsen-Hegar. Socks, just hold on another minute. I
want to place another suture in case this one slips and then I'll trim 'em both
at once."
Mulder handed her the other piece of fishing line, and Scully tied another knot.
"Socks, go ahead and ease up on the pressure, and then slowly move the pliers
away," Scully said. After he returned the pliers to her, she carefully trimmed
the ends off of the knots, handing the remaining pieces of line back to Mulder.
Then she gently dabbed the area with the towel.
"So far so good. Now I just have to find the other end of the vessel. It should
be in the distal end of the break."
They all watched in silence as Scully continued her exploratory surgery, now
fishing for the other piece of severed artery. Her brow was furrowed in
concentration. Perspiration beaded on her upper lip. Frustrated, she was
beginning to fear that she would not be able to find it.
*Calm down, Dana. It's there. It's gotta be.* She used the cloth to blot away
some blood, and then observed carefully. She noticed an area where a small
amount of blood began to pool. Looking closer at that spot, she finally found
her quarry. "I think . . . Got it!"
There was a collective sigh of relief as she clamped the pliers. "Socks?"
"Right here, Doc," he said, relieving her. "Mulder has the fishing line."
"Great." Scully took it from him and tied two more knots. Socks removed the
clamp, and she trimmed the edges and then gently blotted the area. She had
Toller remove the tourniquet, and then she watched for several long seconds. "I
think the bleeding's finally stopped." She paused to wipe the perspiration from
her forehead with her sleeve.
"Way to go, Doc!" Socks said, playfully slapping her on the back.
"Yeah, great job, Scully!" Mulder said, beaming in praise of his partner's
skill. It was not very often that she got to use her medical knowledge ante
mortem, and he sometimes forgot what a skilled physician she could be.
"How ya holdin' up, Robbins?" RB asked, looking down at the injured SEAL.
Robbins opened his eyes and managed a small smile. "Doin' okay, Skipper."
Scully gently touched Robbins' foot, was relieved to find that it was still
relatively warm. Then she felt the area right above his ankle with two fingers.
She sighed softly when she felt the pulse beneath the area of injury; both of
these were a good sign that his lower leg and foot were still receiving adequate
vascular flow.
"Now we just have to find some material to use to bandage and splint the leg,"
Scully said, looking around expectantly. "I'd like to do a Robert Jones, so I'm
going to need plenty of padding," she explained, already removing her own
windbreaker.
RB looked at each of his men in turn. "Help her out, guys," he said, already
pulling off his helmet and the black balaclava he wore beneath. Toller and Socks
began to follow suit, removing their own cloth caps. "Take the shirts of your
backs if you've got to. Hop to it!"
A few minutes later, the SEALs had gathered several pieces of material from
various items of clothing, which she used to wrap around Robbins' leg from knee
to ankle to completely immobilize it, along with the resin sheaths from RB and
Socks' six-inch combat knives to serve as a splint. RB handed her his own
personal roll of duct tape to use to keep it all together. Satisfied that it was
stable, but not too tight so as to impinge on the compromised blood supply,
Scully used Mulder's backpack to elevate the leg. She then checked on Robbins'
vitals before getting up and walking to the far end of the passageway to stretch
her own legs.
Issuing Robbins a few encouraging words, RB left him under Toller's watchful eye
and followed Scully. She sat leaning against the wall, forehead resting on her
knees.
"Drink?" he asked, offering her his canteen.
She looked up at him and smiled gratefully. "Thanks," she said, taking it from
him. Tipping her head back, she took several greedy swallows before wiping her
mouth with the back of her hand and holding it out to him.
"You've, uhm, got some blood on your cheek. You might want to use a little to
get it off."
"Oh. I forgot about that." She wet one of her hands and scrubbed at her face for
a bit. "Did I get it all?" she asked, turning her head to give him a better
view.
"Almost."
Scully rubbed at her face again. "Now?"
"Here, let me." RB reached over and gently rubbed at her cheek with his thumb.
"There. Good as new."
"Thank you," she said, handing him back his canteen.
He hesitated for a moment, as though searching for the right words. "What you
did back there with Robbins--that was amazing," he said before taking a long
drag from the canteen.
Scully looked up at him, watching the way his adam's apple bobbed as he
swallowed.
"It was no big deal," she replied. "Just glad I could help."
"No big deal? No big deal! Fuck, Scully, you just saved his life! If you weren't
here, we would have straightened out his leg, taped it up, and then he would
have bled to death before we got a hundred feet. So don't tell me it's no big
deal."
She felt her face grow warm, and was glad that he would not be able to see it in
the near-darkness. "Hey, you're the one who rappelled down the side of a ravine,
dodging falling stalactites and boulders to save him in the first place. That
was one hell of a crazy stunt. It was incredibly courageous of you, putting your
life on the line like that."
"He's one of my men. As far as I'm concerned, any one of us would've done the
same thing. Besides, that was pure adrenaline and testosterone. What you did,
that required knowledge. Skill. Talent."
"Like anyone could move down a cliff-face like you did? But let's not sing each
other's praises too much. He's not out of the woodsyet. We need to get him to a
hospital ASAP. He needs proper medical attention, surgery. He's at incredible
risk for an infection, not to mention vascular compromise. I didn't find any
other major problems when I looked him over before tending to his leg, but,
still, God knows what other injuries he might have that we can't detect. And we
need to monitor him for signs of shock."
"All I know is, Robbins got another chance because of you. For that, I just
wanted to say thanks," he told her, holding out his hand.
"You're welcome, Commander," she said, taking it. His fingers closed around her
smaller hand, holding tight. She smiled up at him warmly.
"Oh, I believe this is yours," he said, reaching to the back of his belt and
producing her gun. "I thought you might like to have it back." He silently
handed it to her. Then he turned to leave. He took only a step or so before
turning back. "Riskey," he called to her.
"Excuse me?"
"That's my name. Mark Riskey. I figured it was high time we were properly
introduced."
She smiled at him again. "A pleasure to meet you, Mark Riskey."
"Believe me, Doc, the pleasure's all mine." Returning the smile, he walked back
to where the others were gathered. "Let's take five more minutes, gentlemen, and
then we'll head out."
Scully watched as Commander Riskey stopped to talk to Robbins and Toller before
settling down next to Socks. The latter pulled out his tracking device, and they
looked it over together--no doubt plotting their next course.
There was definitely more to him than she had initially thought. He was not the
pompous, overbearing, arrogant bastard she had assumed him to be. He was a good
soldier, a competent leader, a compassionate man who cared about his friends and
teammates. And he was one hell of a risk taker, willing to put his life on the
line for one of his own. The intense loyalty he demonstrated was a trait she
valued strongly. And that kind of selfless bravery was incredibly attractive. As
was the man himself. It had been a long time since Scully had been so intrigued
by a man. Interesting. Very interesting indeed.
"Looks like you got your weapon back, too," came Mulder's voice.
Scully gave a start, and looked up to see him standing above her. Apparently,
she had been so engrossed in her thoughts she had not noticed his approach.
"Yeah, it seems Commander Riskey had a change of heart."
"Riskey, huh? Name suits him. Though it seems giving you your gun was not the
only thing he shared."
Scully grinned.
"I'd say that had a lot to do with your little MacGyver maneuver back there. You
give new meaning to the phrase 'necessity is the mother of invention'."
She arched an eyebrow. "If that's supposed to be a compliment, then thanks,
Mulder."
"It is, Scully. I, uh . . . I guess you don't hear those from me very often.
Uhm, perhaps it's time I changed that."
She glanced up at him, astonished. She helped save one person's life, and now
all the men around her were suddenly turning over new leaves? What the hell was
going on? Perhaps she should exploit this doctor-as-healer role more often.
"So, you think we can trust them?" Mulder asked her.
"I think so. Before crossing the ravine, I wasn't too sure. But right now, I
think they owe us enough to not leave us behind and to make sure we get out of
here alive."
"Why do you think they're down here?"
"Looking for something."
"But what? You think it has anything to do with the murders?"
"I don't know, Mulder. Why don't you ask Socks? It seems like he's your new
buddy now."
"Actually, I was hoping you could ask Riskey. Especially now that he seems to
have. . . ." his voice trailed off abruptly.
Scully looked up at him expectantly. "Now that he seems to have what?"
Mulder hesitated. He really did not want to put voice to the words. Though it
was not as though his speaking them aloud would first put the idea in Scully's
head; after their little trip across the ravine, the seed had already been
planted. "Now that he seems . . . indebted to you," Mulder settled upon.
Scully gave him a knowing smile. After nearly seven years together, the subtext
was obvious. "I can give it a try."
"Let's go! Time to move out!" Riskey called to them. "Socks, you take point.
I'll carry Robbins. Toller, you take up the rear." He looked over to where
Mulder and Scully were talking. "You coming, Agents?"
"Be right there!" Scully called, giving a little wave. "No rest for the weary,"
she sighed.
"Well, with all these cave-ins, I'd just as soon get the hell out of here,"
Mulder said, holding out his hands to help pull Scully to her feet.
"You know, Mulder, for the first time during this godforsaken case, I think I
agree with you," she said as she walked over to Robbins to give him the once-
over. She was relieved to find that he appeared relatively stable, given the
extent of his injuries.
"First time for everything, huh, Scully?" Mulder asked as they took their spots
in the middle of the procession.
Scully was only half-listening, her attention now focused on the man in front of
her. She watched as Riskey hoisted Robbins into a fireman's carry. He barely
shrugged under the weight--which was amazing, considering the younger man's
hefty build. At first, Robbins protested being toted around, but his commander
quickly quelled his complaints, explaining that they could cover more ground
this way. With that, they were off.
*Yes, indeed,* Scully thought as she watched Riskey's backside and his powerful,
commanding stride during their hike. *There's definitely a first time for
everything.*
End Chapter 9
*****