PRINCIPALS IV
Archive: Yes, please! Just let me know where...
Spoiler: Oh, absolutely everything. Requiem hasn't happened, though.
Rating: R for language
Classification: MSR
Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, not mine! Although I can't help but think they're in better hands with me than CC... g.
Notes: Ok, here we go. First off, I KNOW I must've spelled Quononchontaug wrong, but I guess that'll just have to get put up with. And I'm pretty sure it's in Rhode Island, but I'm too tired to check on it.
So this is the fourth installment of a story that decided to become a series without consulting me. Rather rude of it, wouldn't you say? I'm trying my best to continue giving you, the readers, what you want, and I hope I haven't disappointed. However, I am of the opinion that you might not like this part as much as the others. I'm sorry, I just don't see it as my best work. However, I worked hard on it, so here it goes. Have mercy...
There are a few other things I think want you to know, but as they contain spoilers for the story, they'll be at the bottom. Happy reading!
Silver Beauty
Principals IV
Apartment of Fox Mulder
November 18, 2000
6:45 PM
Scully and Mulder sat together at his dining room table, one across from the other. A case file involving a child being kidnapped was scattered everywhere. The VCS had once again enlisted their aid, although each thought the answer was completely obvious.
"Mulder, that's ridiculous!" she burst out, finally dropping the papers he'd asked her to re-read. "Look at the evidence! Of course her father did it—he practically confesses in here."
"But what about the fact that he doesn't remember anything about that night?"
"He's lying?"
Simultaneously, they put their hands at their foreheads and sighed. Scully spoke first.
"I'm not going to apologize to you, Mulder."
"Good. I'm not going to apologize to you either."
Damn it, he hated it when she was right.
"Good. So we're just about done here?"
"Yeah. I'll call Agent Burrows and tell him to arrest the dad."
"Thank you." Scully stretched. "Mulder, what time is it?"
"Uh… 'bout ten 'til. Why?"
"My shirt should be about finished." Mulder had made dinner for the two of them that day, but seeing as it was hamburgers, had found it necessary to spill ketchup everywhere. They'd had a good laugh at the look on his face when he tried to shake the bottle upside down and the contents splattered, but it had gotten all over Scully's blouse in the process. They'd thrown it in the wash immediately, though, so maybe it was still salvageable. Mulder had offered to dump ketchup on the rest of it so it would match. Scully had politely declined. Now she stood, Mulder's dress shirt hanging off her ridiculously. He cocked his head and regarded her carefully.
"Cute."
"Shut up, Mulder." She grabbed the phone. "Here. I'm not going downstairs in this. If people don't think we're sleeping together already, now they definitely will."
"Aw…" a grin lit up his face, but she cut him off before any crude comments came out, barely suppressing a smile.
"You get my shirt. I'll call Burrows."
"'K." He released the phone to her and stretched, getting up. As he walked out the door, Scully dialed the phone.
"Jim? It's Agent Scully…"
Mulder opened the door to the laundry room and peered into the darkness. He could never remember where the light switch was in here. The set-up was completely absurd. You had to open the door from the lobby of the building, and immediately step down because the stairs down started right there. The light was somewhere halfway down.
Leaving the door open for illumination, Mulder strained his eyes, then tensed as he heard thundering footsteps. A group of kids ran past, trying to race into the laundry room. They couldn't stop fast enough. Mulder pitched forward at heart-stopping speed, wondering briefly why the staircase was so damned steep…
"Hey. Hey, dude, get up."
"Did we kill him?"
"Don't be an ass, Jimmy, shut up."
"Is he breathing?"
"I think so… well, now what?"
"Gimmee that phone." Paul took the handset off the wall and handed it to Tom. The four boys watched him dial 911.
"Emergency dispatch."
"Y—yeah." Tom blubbered, winking at his friends. "We—uh, we need an ambulance. This dude, like, fell down the stairs or something, an' he's—he's breathing, but he won't wake up, and we don't—we don't know what to do with him…"
"Don't move him. Loosen any tight clothing he might be wearing and stay there. What part of the building are you in?"
"Uh… the laundry room. You can get there through a door in the lobby. But don't you—like, need our address, or something?"
"We know the address. Caller identification. Does the victim have any medical bracelets or necklaces? A card in his wallet that lists his allergies?"
"Um…" he pulled a leather case from Mulder's pocket. "No—shit!" he dropped the phone and the wallet.
"What?" Jimmy asked.
"He's an FBI agent. Oh, man, we're in trouble…" the boys raced upstairs and to their apartments before the ambulance came screeching to a halt. All the drivers knew the way to this building very well by now.
Upstairs, Scully finally put the phone down. That Burrows kid had a mouth on him. And where was Mulder? It had been a half-hour already. That 'oh-my-God-Mulder's-in-trouble-again' feeling was slowly working itself up into a panic.
Her cell phone rang.
"Mulder?"
"No, is this Special Agent Dana Scully?"
"Yes, who is this?"
"This is Bethesda National Hospital calling for you. You're listed here as Fox Mulder's next of kin?"
Shit.
"Yes, that's right." She was halfway to the car already.
"Well, he was brought to the hospital just now with a serious concussion. He's been unconscious since they found him, hasn't woken up yet. The doctors are checking on him now."
"Did you call Assistant Director Skinner?"
"He was here already, checking on another agent who'd been injured. I believe he's just waiting to see the doctor."
"What room number?" Scully walked up to the registration desk, still talking into the phone. The nurse gaped.
"That was fast."
"What room number?" Scully demanded, hanging up.
"121. Go around that way."
Scully turned the corner and saw Skinner standing by the door.
"What happened?" She asked, jogging up to him.
"I don't know—"she cut him off.
"Was he attacked? Was it Krycek, CGB Spender? Someone from the cat's paw?"
"Scully, calm down."
"I will calm down as soon as someone gives me a reason to calm down!" Skinner gave her a funny look. "What?"
"That line sounded familiar."
A man with an air that just screamed 'Big Important Doctor Person' came walking up. Scully pounced on him.
"Are you talking care of Fox Mulder?"
"Yes. You are…"
"His—"
"Oh, the next of kin we called?" He guessed. "Come in here, Mrs. Mulder."
"He's not my husband." Scully didn't move. "We can talk here."
"Fine, then. Your boyfriend—"
"He's not my boyfriend." She lied, straight-faced. She'd had enough practice, anyway.
"Then what is he?"
"He's my partner." She said quietly. "What's wrong with him?" The doctor hesitated, as if wondering how to dumb it down for her. "Look, I'm a doctor, you can tell me." He sighed.
"We got a call from a kid at his apartment. Paramedics found him unconscious with a pretty bad blow to the head. He's still unconscious now, so you won't be able to talk to him."
"Are there any internal injuries? Massive trauma?"
"None, unless there's something we missed in the cursory. And we haven't given him a PET scan yet."
"Okay." She licked her lips. "What about memory?"
The doctor shrugged.
"There's a chance there might be some memory loss… we have to wait for him to wake up to find out for sure."
"All right." She headed for the door.
"Hey! It's immediate family only."
Scully walked in without looking back.
"She's all the family he's got, doctor. Leave it alone."
"Who are you?"
"I'm their boss. Assistant Director. FBI." He showed his teeth.
"Oh. Ok, then."
"Mulder, it's me." She said softly, taking a seat by the bed. "God. Can't you do anything without getting hurt?" She paused. "Did you leave my shirt down there?" No response. She sighed, then looked toward the door. Skinner could be seen pacing the hallway, talking into his cell phone. They were still alone. "Mulder, you think you can wake up now? For me?" But he didn't move. She sighed again and took his hand, holding it in her lap and leaning back in the chair.
Skinner came in.
"Agent Scully? What's going on?"
"Seems like the good doctor was right," she said, quickly setting his hand back on the bed. He didn't seem to notice. "He'll wake up sooner or later." Sooner. Please. Sooner.
***
Besthesda National
November 19, 2000
3:45 AM
Mulder opened his eyes slowly, wincing at the pain in his head. He was in a hospital.
Again.
Then he saw Scully sleeping in a very uncomfortable-looking position, sitting in a chair with her head resting on it's side in her arms by his chest. Mulder reached out and brushed a strand of hair back gently.
"I'm sorry, Scully..." he whispered as she slowly woke. Then her eyes flew open.
"Mulder? Are--how're you feeling?" he shrugged. "Sorry for what?"
"For gettin' mad." he closed his eyes, willing the pain away. "At you, for goin' with Smokey. You had good reason." Seeing her stunned look, he went on. "I don't really remember, but I must have said something stupid if this headache is from you beating me up."
"When did I get back?" she asked quietly. He looked at her like she'd finally snapped.
"Yesterday. Why?"
"I--should tell the doctor you're up. I think he's on a night shift today."
"Uh--" But she was gone.
"Dr. Coleman?" she wandered down the hall in a doze. "Doctor--oh. Um, Agent Mulder just woke up."
"Did he?"
"Look, you don't give a damn, I know that. But seeing as you're his doctor, I think you should go make an evaluation so I can call my superior."
"You're a doctor."
"He's going to ask for *your* opinion." The 'good doctor' didn't move. "Look, Mr. Coleman--"
"It's *doctor*--"
"It's *mister* until I think you're worthy of the title you obviously don't deserve. Now go check on my partner before I have to call the AMA and get your liscence revoked."
"You can't do that."
"I'm a federal agent, Mr. Coleman. I know people."
He looked at his watch, glared at his shoes, then headed for Mulder's room. Scully saw a washroom nearby and went in.
Thank God it was empty. She walked to the sink and stared at herself in the mirror. The light makeup she usually wore had worn off long ago, and she was quite conscious of the fact that she looked like hell.
She felt like hell. Mulder didn't remember. Now what? She couldn't tell him... with that blow to the head, he should definitely not get excited--it might send him into a coma. And this kind of news would *certainly* get him worked up. He'd start to get upset, blame himself for not remembering... guilt complex. Only Mulder.
But how long? She washed her hands and went into the hallway.
Security guards were everywhere, and Coleman stood outside the room. She ran up to him.
"I've only been gone two minutes, what the hell is going on?"
"We're restraining your partner."
"What?"
"When I asked him what day it was, he looked at me like I was insane. When I told him what day it was, he *went* insane. He's going to wake people up."
Scully stared at him in disbelief, then wrestled her way in. Finally, she reached the bed where two guards were trying to pin Mulder's arms down.
"Take your hands off him," she ordered, moving to his side. Neither guard responded as Mulder continued to struggle.
"Scully--Scully, what did they do to me?" he yelled, nearly breaking free. The guards continued their fight.
"Maybe you didn't hear me." she said, shoving her badge in their faces. "I meant *now*."
They looked at each other, then simultaneously dropped his arms.
"Thank you. Now if you could give us a minute?" The room emptied quickly. No one wanted to be alone with the crazy man. Mulder stared at her.
"What did they do?"
"Mulder..."
"Did they take my memories?"
"I don't think so. Mulder, lie down or you're gonna hurt yourself." he considered, then saw her stiff posture and obeyed. Scully moved back to the chair. "How're you feeling?"
"Like I got my ass kicked. What happened?"
"I don't know. We were at your apartment looking over a case. You went downstairs to get... something out of the dryer--and, come to think of it, it's probably still down there..."
"Ah, whatever." he dismissed it with a wave of his hand. " What's another dress shirt down the drain, more or less?"
He thinks it's something of his. He doesn't know... he doesn't know... he doesn't know...
"Yeah. Anyway, the agent from VCS didn't let me off the phone for a half hour, by which time you were already here. You were unconscious for quite some time. But now that you've gotten all excited and--"
"Who called it in?"
"A young boy. He must've found you--Mulder?"
But he'd slipped away. Scully checked the EKG quickly and sighed, relieved. He'd just fallen asleep. Maybe her conversation wasn't stimulating enough for him. Slowly the time caught up with her and she fell asleep, her head again resting by his arms as she drifted off.
***
Bethesda National
November 20, 2000
10:00 AM
Scully got off the phone with Skinner after reporting Mulder's progress and turned, only to smack right into a middle-aged woman.
"Oh! Excuse me."
"Agent Scully?"
"Y--yes, I'm sorry, do I know you?"
"No, uh, my apartment is on the floor beneath your partner. Agent Mulder? Yeah, I saw you up there with your badge, and you seem to be there a lot... he's your partner, right?"
"Yeah..."
"Good, 'cause I wasn't sure, just guessing. But anyway, my teenage son and a bunch of his friends came in all spooked the other day and I made 'em tell me what happened... a mother has her ways, you know. And they said they accidently knocked out an FBI agent. And I recognized their description and I looked out the window and I saw the ambulance and I recognized Bethesda National's emblem and I came down to apologize on behalf of my son because he's in school and I..." she checked her watch. "Am late for work." she touched Scully's arm briefly before turning away. "Gotta go."
Scully stared after the retreating woman.
"Wait!" she called. "How'd they..."
"Said they ran into him and he fell down the stairs." the woman shrugged. "Later."
Scully scoffed and turned to go back to her partner. He was just starting to wake. She sat down and he wriggled his wrists.
"What? No shackles?"
"Would you rather I had you tied down?"
"Ooh, Scully..."
"Mulder, no one took your memories." Scully almost started laughing. Of all the conspiracies, cults, groups of people named after animal parts... a couple boys knocked him down a flight of stairs. This was too funny. "You got your ass kicked by a bunch of teenage boys."
"What?"
"A bunch of kids accidently knocked you down a set of stairs."
"You're kidding."
"Nope. Unless--you have a 40-something woman, 'bout 5'7, dark blonde hair about shoulder length living on the floor below you? She's got a son..."
"Yeah. Ol' Whirlwind came to apologize? Wow, you know you're goin' places in the world..."
"Well, I guess it's time to go."
"Where you going?" he asked, trying to mask his panic.
"*We* are going to your old summer house on Rhode Island."
"We?"
"We."
"Listen to us, we're French."
Scully shook her head, smiling. "I remember you saying you were gonna keep it after your mom died. You need to get well. Salt water in the air might help jog your memory."
"How?"
Scully shrugged. "Recent studies. Something about inhaling the salt in the air that should stimulate electrical impulses in your brain that trigger the memory lode... you really want me to go into all that medical jargon, or would you like me to finish up so you can get out of here?"
"Finish. Please."
"Ok. It serves a double purpose. It keeps you away from the office *and* it helps me keep an eye on your condition. So unless you'd rather stay here..."
"Let's go." he started to get up, but she shook her head.
"Not so fast." he lay back down, grumbling. "You need to get discharged. Let me tell the nurse and get your things."
Mulder sort of whined, sort of complained, and sat up a little against the pillow. Scully had his things gathered and soon they were on their way.
***
Mulder Summer Home
November 21, 2000
11:21 AM
Scully sat at the table typing furiously on her laptop. Mulder was still asleep, so she was trying to get some work done. Skinner had approved Mulder's going to Quononchontaug and even told her to go with him before she could inform him that this was her intent. Now she was looking at a murder in which--aw, shit.
Exsanguination. The body completely drained of blood. Two fang-like marks on the jugular. She sighed and held up the picture, holding it under intense scrutiny.
"Vampires? Scully, you've been holding out on me."
"Satanic cultists. Even got the needles for you." Scully closed the laptop and put the work away. Mulder sat next to her.
"X-file?"
"Cunsult for Vi-Cap. They knew I'd seen it before."
"Ah." they sat in silence for awhile. "So. Did anything big happen that I don't remember?"
Scully got up and started to pace without even realizing it. She couldn't be this close to him. Not now.
"Not really."
"Bite your tongue, Scully." she stopped, feeling his gaze burning into her back. "Are you lying to me?"
She didn't face him. "I--Mulder, there are a couple of cases you don't remember, that's all. Nothing, really."
"Scully." he begged her to turn, and when she did, he could plainly see the anguish in her eyes. "Is it the X-files? Did they get shut down? Is it your mother? Was one of us fired? Someone die? What?"
"It was nothing. Everything is fine."
"You're lying to me." his voice held the most awful mixture of betrayl and hurt and disbelief.
"Mulder, listen to me." she knelt in front of him on one knee, putting one hand on the chair to steady herself. "Something happened. But I am *not* going to tell you about it. With that blow to the head you suffered, I'm not about to risk an aneurysm--or worse, your slipping right into a coma. Your brain is too weak, and I *know* you. You'll start blaming yourself for not remembering and get all stressed out and lose it, and I don't want that happening. You have to trust me. It can wait for you to remember."
Mulder took her hand from the chair and held it in both of his.
"You know you're the only one I trust." he said, looking thoughtfully at the small part of Scully's body he held. "And you know I'd do anything for you." he bit his lip and gave her hand back. "God, Scully, I can't tell you how much this hurts."
"Mulder..."
"No. Don't. Just--" he got up suddenly, and Scully reared back just in time to miss getting knocked over. "I gotta go." he left the room.
***
Mulder Summer Home
November 23, 2000
10:13 AM
The days that followed the agents' confrontation were tense. Scully would disappear into herself for hours on end, working on any and every small detail of her current case. Mulder spent a great deal of time trying to remember. He found himself wishing he hadnt said those things to Scully. Looking back with disgust, he realized he'd sounded so much like a character in a soap opera he wanted to puke.
But he *was* hurt. And Fox Mulder was not above using trickery to get what he needed.
Call it a game, he thought to himself, eyeing the lake. Scully would be a worthy--if unknowing--participant.
Mulder felt an involuntary pany of guilt over the idea.
But she's not *telling* me something, he argued with himself vehemently. She might be in danger. It would be just like her to tell me she's fine and not mean it.
That settled it. Swallowing his dread of anything water-related, he entered the cabin.
"Sailing?" Scully looked up, startled. She definitely hadn't been expecting this.
"Yeah, well, it's not really *sailing* sailing, it's the same kind of boat we had on Heuvelman's Lake that one time. C'mon, Scully, it'll be a nice trip to the lake."
"That phrase alone sets my nerves on edge." she sighed, looking out the window. "Ok. I guess."
Mulder felt a really stupid-looking grin spread across his face.
"Let's go."
12:11 AM
Mulder still hadn't gotten Scully to tell him anything. She was getting suspicious. Either that or something was wrong. He could tell she was tense; through her shirt, her back muscles were tight and rigid. A salty breeze blew at his face as he looked out at the water. They'd checked the weather, and it was supposed to be fair and sunny all day. So far that seemed to be right.
Scully looked out toward the horizon, then back at her partner. The uneasy crease in her eyes, coupled with the brief sway of the boat to one side, told him all he needed to know--and more than he wanted to.
"Getting kind of rough?" he asked. She nodded.
"We're awfully far out. I'm turning us around." Scully turned the wheel almost completely and the boat began to change directions. Mulder got up and stood next to her.
"It doesn't look that bad." he observed quietly. The water was moving swiftly and small waves were forming, but the sky was still sunny and the breeze was warm. Scully shook her head.
"No, Mulder, I was a navy brat. The sea is in my blood. And I'm telling you if we don't get to shore extremely fast, there's gonna be trouble."
Mulder nodded and left the stern to retrieve something from the chest in the back. Life jackets. Scully was still gripping the wheel and wordlessly extended one arm, keeping the other hand holding tight. He slipped the preserver onto her shoulder. As she switched hands and shrugged into the other half, Mulder put his on and fastened the buckles.
Suddenly the sky was black and the wind whipped the waves into a frenzy. Scully struggled with the wheel, afraid to let go with even one hand.
"Mulder, can you get the front, please?"
"Yeah." he stood facing her, reaching into her arms as she tried to keep the boat on a steady course. He concentrated on getting the jacket closed, but found himself breathing in her scent instead. She was breathing hard, and he seemed to remember that sound. As the latches closed, he didn't move. Scully glanced at him quickly, then returned her attention to the water.
"Mulder?"
And he knew that voice. He knew the feeling of those lips gliding over his. He knew the feeling of those hands pulling him nearer. He could remember it all. God only knew what had triggered it...
"*Mulder*." Scully looked at him again, worried. "What--"
Just then, a huge mixture of wind and waves attacked the glass they stood behind, shattering it. Rain now pelted down on their faces insistently, a warning of the coming storm. Mulder and Scully reeled around, off-balance, trying to protect themselves from the flying shards. A colossal wave beat against the wall, ripping away the thin pieces of wood. A windtunnel was created in what was left of the cabin, pulling Mulder back. Scully watched, disbelieving, as he descended into a tangle of wood. But the storm wasn't finished with them yet.
Scully was washed overboard.
"Scully!" Mulder jumped toward her, but the wave had taken her already. A few strong pieces of wood grabbed at him and took hold of his life jacket. "No!" Mulder could see her head bobbing in the water and wrenched the vest open, bolting free. It wasn't going to do him much good where he was going. He vaulted onto the still-standing iron railing and dove into the rushing water. He got a glimpse of Scully, battling for breath, just before her body was completely submerged.
Lightning lit their surreal world that had been at peace just moments ago as Mulder drew in a deep breath and dove again. This was why he ditched the life jacket. How was he supposed to go underwater with that thing? Afraid to open his eyes in the salt water, he felt around blindly until he felt a rubbery life preserver. Yanking upward, he kicked toward the surface fiercely. Clinging to a thoroughly drenched partner, he made a half-hearted attempt to steer them to shore. Scully was conscious, though out of breath and tired; she couldn't manage to do more than cling to him. As the waves pushed them to the sand, Mulder's head became clouded with images and voices.
Care to dance, Agent Scully?
You wear a skirt when you play tennis, Scully?
I don't know, Scully, your couch is a lot shorter than mine.
Hey, gorgeous.
Oh, God, Scully.
An icy wind froze the water on his face as he dragged her a few feet onto the sand, too tired to do any more. Cold water continued to ebb gently towards the beach, slipping water under and around thme while Mulder fumbled with the clasps on Scully's jacket. She began to cough violently, but didn't seem to have swallowed any water. Mulder got the vest open and helped her out of it, letting an exhausted smile come across his face. Thank God. He let his expression grow sober, though, when he saw how close he'd come to losing her--again. He rolled on to her, holding on as if his life depended on it. Burying his face in her neck, he spoke in gasping sobs while she stroked his hair gently.
"I'm sorry, Scully." he choked. "I'm sorry for leaving you at the Dirty Dames stakeout and I'm sorry for not being there for you when Waterston showed up and I'm sorry for walking out of my apartment and getting knocked down the stairs--"
Scully started, stopped her hand's repetitive motion, and took his face in her hand, lifting his gaze to her eyes. She hadn't been sure if those cases had been before or after the time he last remembered, but this?
"--and I'm sorry for not kissing you sooner and I'm sorry I didn't run up to the roof and yell for Skinner and the Bureau and the world to hear that I love you, Scully. I love you so much..."
And Scully stopped him, cut off his words by pulling his mouth down over hers. She kissed him fiercely, not sure if the water on her face was from Mulder's tears or her own.
"Thank God..." she breathed against his mouth. "Mulder..."
She threaded her fingers through his hair and they lay there, tangled together, soaking wet.
"How?" she whispered, holding the back of his head while he closed his eyes and rested his face in her hair.
"Recent studies," he mumbled, moving his mouth to her throat. She pulled his head even closer, gasping at the sensation.
"What?"
Mulder's next words were punctuated by light kisses trailing up from her throat back to her lips.
"It started up--on the boat. I got--this feeling--and then in the water--it just all came back--mmm."
Scully anchored his mouth against hers passionately. They lay there for awhile before Mulder groaned.
"I'm old, Scully."
She grinned wickedly.
"And this is too taxing for you?"
"Just my back."
They laughed slightly at that, then Mulder pushed himself up and pulled Scully to her feet.
"Let's go, G-Woman. I want to go home."
Neither agent noticed the brief flash of the sun reflecting off of the camera lens in the nearby bushes.
***
FBI Headquarters
November 24, 2000
11:21 AM
"Agent Scully, he's completely back to normal?"
'Not that he was normal in the first place...' Scully thought wickedly.
"Yes, sir. We had him checked out by the doctors at Bethesda and it was determined that he is set for active duty."
"Well. In that case, Agent Mulder, welcome back. Now I have some things for the two of you..."
Mulder and Scully shared a secret smile as they listened to their boss. They were back in business.
End part IV/??
** Author's Notes: I don't know if Scully's rationalizations for not telling Mulder about their new relationship were sound, but I needed a reason to be able to follow that particular plot line. Don't worry, I don't think the next stories (Lord help me...) will be this, uh... weird. Thanks for your patience.
I know I'm putting an insane amount of angst in for Mulder, what with the blindness and the amnesia and the fall down the stairs and all that. I'm trying to keep the amount of horrible things I dish out even, but it's my nasty feminist side (that I didn't even know existed) that kicks up whenever I realize that Scully used to always be the one getting beat up and rescued. I'm sorry if this offends anyone, I promise I have nothing against Mulder. Please keep this in mind for the next installment (guilty grimace). All for the sake of storytelling...
Archive: Yes, please! Just let me know where...
Spoiler: Oh, absolutely everything. Requiem hasn't happened, though.
Rating: R for language
Classification: MSR
Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, not mine! Although I can't help but think they're in better hands with me than CC... g.
Notes: Ok, here we go. First off, I KNOW I must've spelled Quononchontaug wrong, but I guess that'll just have to get put up with. And I'm pretty sure it's in Rhode Island, but I'm too tired to check on it.
So this is the fourth installment of a story that decided to become a series without consulting me. Rather rude of it, wouldn't you say? I'm trying my best to continue giving you, the readers, what you want, and I hope I haven't disappointed. However, I am of the opinion that you might not like this part as much as the others. I'm sorry, I just don't see it as my best work. However, I worked hard on it, so here it goes. Have mercy...
There are a few other things I think want you to know, but as they contain spoilers for the story, they'll be at the bottom. Happy reading!
Silver Beauty
Principals IV
Apartment of Fox Mulder
November 18, 2000
6:45 PM
Scully and Mulder sat together at his dining room table, one across from the other. A case file involving a child being kidnapped was scattered everywhere. The VCS had once again enlisted their aid, although each thought the answer was completely obvious.
"Mulder, that's ridiculous!" she burst out, finally dropping the papers he'd asked her to re-read. "Look at the evidence! Of course her father did it—he practically confesses in here."
"But what about the fact that he doesn't remember anything about that night?"
"He's lying?"
Simultaneously, they put their hands at their foreheads and sighed. Scully spoke first.
"I'm not going to apologize to you, Mulder."
"Good. I'm not going to apologize to you either."
Damn it, he hated it when she was right.
"Good. So we're just about done here?"
"Yeah. I'll call Agent Burrows and tell him to arrest the dad."
"Thank you." Scully stretched. "Mulder, what time is it?"
"Uh… 'bout ten 'til. Why?"
"My shirt should be about finished." Mulder had made dinner for the two of them that day, but seeing as it was hamburgers, had found it necessary to spill ketchup everywhere. They'd had a good laugh at the look on his face when he tried to shake the bottle upside down and the contents splattered, but it had gotten all over Scully's blouse in the process. They'd thrown it in the wash immediately, though, so maybe it was still salvageable. Mulder had offered to dump ketchup on the rest of it so it would match. Scully had politely declined. Now she stood, Mulder's dress shirt hanging off her ridiculously. He cocked his head and regarded her carefully.
"Cute."
"Shut up, Mulder." She grabbed the phone. "Here. I'm not going downstairs in this. If people don't think we're sleeping together already, now they definitely will."
"Aw…" a grin lit up his face, but she cut him off before any crude comments came out, barely suppressing a smile.
"You get my shirt. I'll call Burrows."
"'K." He released the phone to her and stretched, getting up. As he walked out the door, Scully dialed the phone.
"Jim? It's Agent Scully…"
Mulder opened the door to the laundry room and peered into the darkness. He could never remember where the light switch was in here. The set-up was completely absurd. You had to open the door from the lobby of the building, and immediately step down because the stairs down started right there. The light was somewhere halfway down.
Leaving the door open for illumination, Mulder strained his eyes, then tensed as he heard thundering footsteps. A group of kids ran past, trying to race into the laundry room. They couldn't stop fast enough. Mulder pitched forward at heart-stopping speed, wondering briefly why the staircase was so damned steep…
"Hey. Hey, dude, get up."
"Did we kill him?"
"Don't be an ass, Jimmy, shut up."
"Is he breathing?"
"I think so… well, now what?"
"Gimmee that phone." Paul took the handset off the wall and handed it to Tom. The four boys watched him dial 911.
"Emergency dispatch."
"Y—yeah." Tom blubbered, winking at his friends. "We—uh, we need an ambulance. This dude, like, fell down the stairs or something, an' he's—he's breathing, but he won't wake up, and we don't—we don't know what to do with him…"
"Don't move him. Loosen any tight clothing he might be wearing and stay there. What part of the building are you in?"
"Uh… the laundry room. You can get there through a door in the lobby. But don't you—like, need our address, or something?"
"We know the address. Caller identification. Does the victim have any medical bracelets or necklaces? A card in his wallet that lists his allergies?"
"Um…" he pulled a leather case from Mulder's pocket. "No—shit!" he dropped the phone and the wallet.
"What?" Jimmy asked.
"He's an FBI agent. Oh, man, we're in trouble…" the boys raced upstairs and to their apartments before the ambulance came screeching to a halt. All the drivers knew the way to this building very well by now.
Upstairs, Scully finally put the phone down. That Burrows kid had a mouth on him. And where was Mulder? It had been a half-hour already. That 'oh-my-God-Mulder's-in-trouble-again' feeling was slowly working itself up into a panic.
Her cell phone rang.
"Mulder?"
"No, is this Special Agent Dana Scully?"
"Yes, who is this?"
"This is Bethesda National Hospital calling for you. You're listed here as Fox Mulder's next of kin?"
Shit.
"Yes, that's right." She was halfway to the car already.
"Well, he was brought to the hospital just now with a serious concussion. He's been unconscious since they found him, hasn't woken up yet. The doctors are checking on him now."
"Did you call Assistant Director Skinner?"
"He was here already, checking on another agent who'd been injured. I believe he's just waiting to see the doctor."
"What room number?" Scully walked up to the registration desk, still talking into the phone. The nurse gaped.
"That was fast."
"What room number?" Scully demanded, hanging up.
"121. Go around that way."
Scully turned the corner and saw Skinner standing by the door.
"What happened?" She asked, jogging up to him.
"I don't know—"she cut him off.
"Was he attacked? Was it Krycek, CGB Spender? Someone from the cat's paw?"
"Scully, calm down."
"I will calm down as soon as someone gives me a reason to calm down!" Skinner gave her a funny look. "What?"
"That line sounded familiar."
A man with an air that just screamed 'Big Important Doctor Person' came walking up. Scully pounced on him.
"Are you talking care of Fox Mulder?"
"Yes. You are…"
"His—"
"Oh, the next of kin we called?" He guessed. "Come in here, Mrs. Mulder."
"He's not my husband." Scully didn't move. "We can talk here."
"Fine, then. Your boyfriend—"
"He's not my boyfriend." She lied, straight-faced. She'd had enough practice, anyway.
"Then what is he?"
"He's my partner." She said quietly. "What's wrong with him?" The doctor hesitated, as if wondering how to dumb it down for her. "Look, I'm a doctor, you can tell me." He sighed.
"We got a call from a kid at his apartment. Paramedics found him unconscious with a pretty bad blow to the head. He's still unconscious now, so you won't be able to talk to him."
"Are there any internal injuries? Massive trauma?"
"None, unless there's something we missed in the cursory. And we haven't given him a PET scan yet."
"Okay." She licked her lips. "What about memory?"
The doctor shrugged.
"There's a chance there might be some memory loss… we have to wait for him to wake up to find out for sure."
"All right." She headed for the door.
"Hey! It's immediate family only."
Scully walked in without looking back.
"She's all the family he's got, doctor. Leave it alone."
"Who are you?"
"I'm their boss. Assistant Director. FBI." He showed his teeth.
"Oh. Ok, then."
"Mulder, it's me." She said softly, taking a seat by the bed. "God. Can't you do anything without getting hurt?" She paused. "Did you leave my shirt down there?" No response. She sighed, then looked toward the door. Skinner could be seen pacing the hallway, talking into his cell phone. They were still alone. "Mulder, you think you can wake up now? For me?" But he didn't move. She sighed again and took his hand, holding it in her lap and leaning back in the chair.
Skinner came in.
"Agent Scully? What's going on?"
"Seems like the good doctor was right," she said, quickly setting his hand back on the bed. He didn't seem to notice. "He'll wake up sooner or later." Sooner. Please. Sooner.
***
Besthesda National
November 19, 2000
3:45 AM
Mulder opened his eyes slowly, wincing at the pain in his head. He was in a hospital.
Again.
Then he saw Scully sleeping in a very uncomfortable-looking position, sitting in a chair with her head resting on it's side in her arms by his chest. Mulder reached out and brushed a strand of hair back gently.
"I'm sorry, Scully..." he whispered as she slowly woke. Then her eyes flew open.
"Mulder? Are--how're you feeling?" he shrugged. "Sorry for what?"
"For gettin' mad." he closed his eyes, willing the pain away. "At you, for goin' with Smokey. You had good reason." Seeing her stunned look, he went on. "I don't really remember, but I must have said something stupid if this headache is from you beating me up."
"When did I get back?" she asked quietly. He looked at her like she'd finally snapped.
"Yesterday. Why?"
"I--should tell the doctor you're up. I think he's on a night shift today."
"Uh--" But she was gone.
"Dr. Coleman?" she wandered down the hall in a doze. "Doctor--oh. Um, Agent Mulder just woke up."
"Did he?"
"Look, you don't give a damn, I know that. But seeing as you're his doctor, I think you should go make an evaluation so I can call my superior."
"You're a doctor."
"He's going to ask for *your* opinion." The 'good doctor' didn't move. "Look, Mr. Coleman--"
"It's *doctor*--"
"It's *mister* until I think you're worthy of the title you obviously don't deserve. Now go check on my partner before I have to call the AMA and get your liscence revoked."
"You can't do that."
"I'm a federal agent, Mr. Coleman. I know people."
He looked at his watch, glared at his shoes, then headed for Mulder's room. Scully saw a washroom nearby and went in.
Thank God it was empty. She walked to the sink and stared at herself in the mirror. The light makeup she usually wore had worn off long ago, and she was quite conscious of the fact that she looked like hell.
She felt like hell. Mulder didn't remember. Now what? She couldn't tell him... with that blow to the head, he should definitely not get excited--it might send him into a coma. And this kind of news would *certainly* get him worked up. He'd start to get upset, blame himself for not remembering... guilt complex. Only Mulder.
But how long? She washed her hands and went into the hallway.
Security guards were everywhere, and Coleman stood outside the room. She ran up to him.
"I've only been gone two minutes, what the hell is going on?"
"We're restraining your partner."
"What?"
"When I asked him what day it was, he looked at me like I was insane. When I told him what day it was, he *went* insane. He's going to wake people up."
Scully stared at him in disbelief, then wrestled her way in. Finally, she reached the bed where two guards were trying to pin Mulder's arms down.
"Take your hands off him," she ordered, moving to his side. Neither guard responded as Mulder continued to struggle.
"Scully--Scully, what did they do to me?" he yelled, nearly breaking free. The guards continued their fight.
"Maybe you didn't hear me." she said, shoving her badge in their faces. "I meant *now*."
They looked at each other, then simultaneously dropped his arms.
"Thank you. Now if you could give us a minute?" The room emptied quickly. No one wanted to be alone with the crazy man. Mulder stared at her.
"What did they do?"
"Mulder..."
"Did they take my memories?"
"I don't think so. Mulder, lie down or you're gonna hurt yourself." he considered, then saw her stiff posture and obeyed. Scully moved back to the chair. "How're you feeling?"
"Like I got my ass kicked. What happened?"
"I don't know. We were at your apartment looking over a case. You went downstairs to get... something out of the dryer--and, come to think of it, it's probably still down there..."
"Ah, whatever." he dismissed it with a wave of his hand. " What's another dress shirt down the drain, more or less?"
He thinks it's something of his. He doesn't know... he doesn't know... he doesn't know...
"Yeah. Anyway, the agent from VCS didn't let me off the phone for a half hour, by which time you were already here. You were unconscious for quite some time. But now that you've gotten all excited and--"
"Who called it in?"
"A young boy. He must've found you--Mulder?"
But he'd slipped away. Scully checked the EKG quickly and sighed, relieved. He'd just fallen asleep. Maybe her conversation wasn't stimulating enough for him. Slowly the time caught up with her and she fell asleep, her head again resting by his arms as she drifted off.
***
Bethesda National
November 20, 2000
10:00 AM
Scully got off the phone with Skinner after reporting Mulder's progress and turned, only to smack right into a middle-aged woman.
"Oh! Excuse me."
"Agent Scully?"
"Y--yes, I'm sorry, do I know you?"
"No, uh, my apartment is on the floor beneath your partner. Agent Mulder? Yeah, I saw you up there with your badge, and you seem to be there a lot... he's your partner, right?"
"Yeah..."
"Good, 'cause I wasn't sure, just guessing. But anyway, my teenage son and a bunch of his friends came in all spooked the other day and I made 'em tell me what happened... a mother has her ways, you know. And they said they accidently knocked out an FBI agent. And I recognized their description and I looked out the window and I saw the ambulance and I recognized Bethesda National's emblem and I came down to apologize on behalf of my son because he's in school and I..." she checked her watch. "Am late for work." she touched Scully's arm briefly before turning away. "Gotta go."
Scully stared after the retreating woman.
"Wait!" she called. "How'd they..."
"Said they ran into him and he fell down the stairs." the woman shrugged. "Later."
Scully scoffed and turned to go back to her partner. He was just starting to wake. She sat down and he wriggled his wrists.
"What? No shackles?"
"Would you rather I had you tied down?"
"Ooh, Scully..."
"Mulder, no one took your memories." Scully almost started laughing. Of all the conspiracies, cults, groups of people named after animal parts... a couple boys knocked him down a flight of stairs. This was too funny. "You got your ass kicked by a bunch of teenage boys."
"What?"
"A bunch of kids accidently knocked you down a set of stairs."
"You're kidding."
"Nope. Unless--you have a 40-something woman, 'bout 5'7, dark blonde hair about shoulder length living on the floor below you? She's got a son..."
"Yeah. Ol' Whirlwind came to apologize? Wow, you know you're goin' places in the world..."
"Well, I guess it's time to go."
"Where you going?" he asked, trying to mask his panic.
"*We* are going to your old summer house on Rhode Island."
"We?"
"We."
"Listen to us, we're French."
Scully shook her head, smiling. "I remember you saying you were gonna keep it after your mom died. You need to get well. Salt water in the air might help jog your memory."
"How?"
Scully shrugged. "Recent studies. Something about inhaling the salt in the air that should stimulate electrical impulses in your brain that trigger the memory lode... you really want me to go into all that medical jargon, or would you like me to finish up so you can get out of here?"
"Finish. Please."
"Ok. It serves a double purpose. It keeps you away from the office *and* it helps me keep an eye on your condition. So unless you'd rather stay here..."
"Let's go." he started to get up, but she shook her head.
"Not so fast." he lay back down, grumbling. "You need to get discharged. Let me tell the nurse and get your things."
Mulder sort of whined, sort of complained, and sat up a little against the pillow. Scully had his things gathered and soon they were on their way.
***
Mulder Summer Home
November 21, 2000
11:21 AM
Scully sat at the table typing furiously on her laptop. Mulder was still asleep, so she was trying to get some work done. Skinner had approved Mulder's going to Quononchontaug and even told her to go with him before she could inform him that this was her intent. Now she was looking at a murder in which--aw, shit.
Exsanguination. The body completely drained of blood. Two fang-like marks on the jugular. She sighed and held up the picture, holding it under intense scrutiny.
"Vampires? Scully, you've been holding out on me."
"Satanic cultists. Even got the needles for you." Scully closed the laptop and put the work away. Mulder sat next to her.
"X-file?"
"Cunsult for Vi-Cap. They knew I'd seen it before."
"Ah." they sat in silence for awhile. "So. Did anything big happen that I don't remember?"
Scully got up and started to pace without even realizing it. She couldn't be this close to him. Not now.
"Not really."
"Bite your tongue, Scully." she stopped, feeling his gaze burning into her back. "Are you lying to me?"
She didn't face him. "I--Mulder, there are a couple of cases you don't remember, that's all. Nothing, really."
"Scully." he begged her to turn, and when she did, he could plainly see the anguish in her eyes. "Is it the X-files? Did they get shut down? Is it your mother? Was one of us fired? Someone die? What?"
"It was nothing. Everything is fine."
"You're lying to me." his voice held the most awful mixture of betrayl and hurt and disbelief.
"Mulder, listen to me." she knelt in front of him on one knee, putting one hand on the chair to steady herself. "Something happened. But I am *not* going to tell you about it. With that blow to the head you suffered, I'm not about to risk an aneurysm--or worse, your slipping right into a coma. Your brain is too weak, and I *know* you. You'll start blaming yourself for not remembering and get all stressed out and lose it, and I don't want that happening. You have to trust me. It can wait for you to remember."
Mulder took her hand from the chair and held it in both of his.
"You know you're the only one I trust." he said, looking thoughtfully at the small part of Scully's body he held. "And you know I'd do anything for you." he bit his lip and gave her hand back. "God, Scully, I can't tell you how much this hurts."
"Mulder..."
"No. Don't. Just--" he got up suddenly, and Scully reared back just in time to miss getting knocked over. "I gotta go." he left the room.
***
Mulder Summer Home
November 23, 2000
10:13 AM
The days that followed the agents' confrontation were tense. Scully would disappear into herself for hours on end, working on any and every small detail of her current case. Mulder spent a great deal of time trying to remember. He found himself wishing he hadnt said those things to Scully. Looking back with disgust, he realized he'd sounded so much like a character in a soap opera he wanted to puke.
But he *was* hurt. And Fox Mulder was not above using trickery to get what he needed.
Call it a game, he thought to himself, eyeing the lake. Scully would be a worthy--if unknowing--participant.
Mulder felt an involuntary pany of guilt over the idea.
But she's not *telling* me something, he argued with himself vehemently. She might be in danger. It would be just like her to tell me she's fine and not mean it.
That settled it. Swallowing his dread of anything water-related, he entered the cabin.
"Sailing?" Scully looked up, startled. She definitely hadn't been expecting this.
"Yeah, well, it's not really *sailing* sailing, it's the same kind of boat we had on Heuvelman's Lake that one time. C'mon, Scully, it'll be a nice trip to the lake."
"That phrase alone sets my nerves on edge." she sighed, looking out the window. "Ok. I guess."
Mulder felt a really stupid-looking grin spread across his face.
"Let's go."
12:11 AM
Mulder still hadn't gotten Scully to tell him anything. She was getting suspicious. Either that or something was wrong. He could tell she was tense; through her shirt, her back muscles were tight and rigid. A salty breeze blew at his face as he looked out at the water. They'd checked the weather, and it was supposed to be fair and sunny all day. So far that seemed to be right.
Scully looked out toward the horizon, then back at her partner. The uneasy crease in her eyes, coupled with the brief sway of the boat to one side, told him all he needed to know--and more than he wanted to.
"Getting kind of rough?" he asked. She nodded.
"We're awfully far out. I'm turning us around." Scully turned the wheel almost completely and the boat began to change directions. Mulder got up and stood next to her.
"It doesn't look that bad." he observed quietly. The water was moving swiftly and small waves were forming, but the sky was still sunny and the breeze was warm. Scully shook her head.
"No, Mulder, I was a navy brat. The sea is in my blood. And I'm telling you if we don't get to shore extremely fast, there's gonna be trouble."
Mulder nodded and left the stern to retrieve something from the chest in the back. Life jackets. Scully was still gripping the wheel and wordlessly extended one arm, keeping the other hand holding tight. He slipped the preserver onto her shoulder. As she switched hands and shrugged into the other half, Mulder put his on and fastened the buckles.
Suddenly the sky was black and the wind whipped the waves into a frenzy. Scully struggled with the wheel, afraid to let go with even one hand.
"Mulder, can you get the front, please?"
"Yeah." he stood facing her, reaching into her arms as she tried to keep the boat on a steady course. He concentrated on getting the jacket closed, but found himself breathing in her scent instead. She was breathing hard, and he seemed to remember that sound. As the latches closed, he didn't move. Scully glanced at him quickly, then returned her attention to the water.
"Mulder?"
And he knew that voice. He knew the feeling of those lips gliding over his. He knew the feeling of those hands pulling him nearer. He could remember it all. God only knew what had triggered it...
"*Mulder*." Scully looked at him again, worried. "What--"
Just then, a huge mixture of wind and waves attacked the glass they stood behind, shattering it. Rain now pelted down on their faces insistently, a warning of the coming storm. Mulder and Scully reeled around, off-balance, trying to protect themselves from the flying shards. A colossal wave beat against the wall, ripping away the thin pieces of wood. A windtunnel was created in what was left of the cabin, pulling Mulder back. Scully watched, disbelieving, as he descended into a tangle of wood. But the storm wasn't finished with them yet.
Scully was washed overboard.
"Scully!" Mulder jumped toward her, but the wave had taken her already. A few strong pieces of wood grabbed at him and took hold of his life jacket. "No!" Mulder could see her head bobbing in the water and wrenched the vest open, bolting free. It wasn't going to do him much good where he was going. He vaulted onto the still-standing iron railing and dove into the rushing water. He got a glimpse of Scully, battling for breath, just before her body was completely submerged.
Lightning lit their surreal world that had been at peace just moments ago as Mulder drew in a deep breath and dove again. This was why he ditched the life jacket. How was he supposed to go underwater with that thing? Afraid to open his eyes in the salt water, he felt around blindly until he felt a rubbery life preserver. Yanking upward, he kicked toward the surface fiercely. Clinging to a thoroughly drenched partner, he made a half-hearted attempt to steer them to shore. Scully was conscious, though out of breath and tired; she couldn't manage to do more than cling to him. As the waves pushed them to the sand, Mulder's head became clouded with images and voices.
Care to dance, Agent Scully?
You wear a skirt when you play tennis, Scully?
I don't know, Scully, your couch is a lot shorter than mine.
Hey, gorgeous.
Oh, God, Scully.
An icy wind froze the water on his face as he dragged her a few feet onto the sand, too tired to do any more. Cold water continued to ebb gently towards the beach, slipping water under and around thme while Mulder fumbled with the clasps on Scully's jacket. She began to cough violently, but didn't seem to have swallowed any water. Mulder got the vest open and helped her out of it, letting an exhausted smile come across his face. Thank God. He let his expression grow sober, though, when he saw how close he'd come to losing her--again. He rolled on to her, holding on as if his life depended on it. Burying his face in her neck, he spoke in gasping sobs while she stroked his hair gently.
"I'm sorry, Scully." he choked. "I'm sorry for leaving you at the Dirty Dames stakeout and I'm sorry for not being there for you when Waterston showed up and I'm sorry for walking out of my apartment and getting knocked down the stairs--"
Scully started, stopped her hand's repetitive motion, and took his face in her hand, lifting his gaze to her eyes. She hadn't been sure if those cases had been before or after the time he last remembered, but this?
"--and I'm sorry for not kissing you sooner and I'm sorry I didn't run up to the roof and yell for Skinner and the Bureau and the world to hear that I love you, Scully. I love you so much..."
And Scully stopped him, cut off his words by pulling his mouth down over hers. She kissed him fiercely, not sure if the water on her face was from Mulder's tears or her own.
"Thank God..." she breathed against his mouth. "Mulder..."
She threaded her fingers through his hair and they lay there, tangled together, soaking wet.
"How?" she whispered, holding the back of his head while he closed his eyes and rested his face in her hair.
"Recent studies," he mumbled, moving his mouth to her throat. She pulled his head even closer, gasping at the sensation.
"What?"
Mulder's next words were punctuated by light kisses trailing up from her throat back to her lips.
"It started up--on the boat. I got--this feeling--and then in the water--it just all came back--mmm."
Scully anchored his mouth against hers passionately. They lay there for awhile before Mulder groaned.
"I'm old, Scully."
She grinned wickedly.
"And this is too taxing for you?"
"Just my back."
They laughed slightly at that, then Mulder pushed himself up and pulled Scully to her feet.
"Let's go, G-Woman. I want to go home."
Neither agent noticed the brief flash of the sun reflecting off of the camera lens in the nearby bushes.
***
FBI Headquarters
November 24, 2000
11:21 AM
"Agent Scully, he's completely back to normal?"
'Not that he was normal in the first place...' Scully thought wickedly.
"Yes, sir. We had him checked out by the doctors at Bethesda and it was determined that he is set for active duty."
"Well. In that case, Agent Mulder, welcome back. Now I have some things for the two of you..."
Mulder and Scully shared a secret smile as they listened to their boss. They were back in business.
End part IV/??
** Author's Notes: I don't know if Scully's rationalizations for not telling Mulder about their new relationship were sound, but I needed a reason to be able to follow that particular plot line. Don't worry, I don't think the next stories (Lord help me...) will be this, uh... weird. Thanks for your patience.
I know I'm putting an insane amount of angst in for Mulder, what with the blindness and the amnesia and the fall down the stairs and all that. I'm trying to keep the amount of horrible things I dish out even, but it's my nasty feminist side (that I didn't even know existed) that kicks up whenever I realize that Scully used to always be the one getting beat up and rescued. I'm sorry if this offends anyone, I promise I have nothing against Mulder. Please keep this in mind for the next installment (guilty grimace). All for the sake of storytelling...