The Domino Effect, Part 2/?
Headers and disclaimer in Part 1.
Mulder helped his partner into bed and gently pulled
the covers over her. "Better?" He gently sat down
beside her.
Scully nodded weakly, then took a deep breath.
"Mulder, go back to your room. I think I'll be okay
now. I'm just a little tired." He took her hand and
gently rubbed her fingers, his eyes showing his
concern.
"Uh-uh, I'm going to stay with you for a while just
in case you need anything."
"I just want to sleep."
"Fine, then sleep. I'll be right here." He squeezed
her fingers gently and reluctantly let go, although
he made no move to stand. She looked too pale for
his comfort.
Scully could tell that she wouldn't convince him to
leave. She looked at him fondly, noting that he
looked rather pale himself. "Mulder, you okay?"
"Just a little concerned about you."
"I'm okay," she answered sleepily, as she felt her
eyes closing, shutting out his worried expression.
Mulder went back to the chair he'd occupied earlier
and sat down, feeling an uncomfortable twinge in his
midsection. His stomach was definitely upset and he
knew it was only a matter of time before he would be
tossing his dinner too. Every time he thought of the
crab cakes, his nausea increased.
He eventually fell into an uneasy sleep. He heard
Scully get up again, but couldn't muster the strength
to get up and check on her.
Scully got back into bed, grateful that there was
nothing but dry heaves this time. She was surprised
that Mulder hadn't even stirred. Well, just as well.
All she needed was some sleep, and he looked a bit
off-color himself.
She had been dozing for only a few minutes when the
unmistakable sounds of Mulder in the throes being
sick awakened her. Scully's stomach gave a little
flip then settled. Well, that pretty much confirmed
what she suspected. She sighed. They both had food
poisoning.
After a few minutes, Mulder staggered from the
bathroom and reclaimed his chair. He was only there
a few minutes before leaping up and bolting for the
bathroom again.
"This is going to be a very long night," Scully
groaned as she pushed the covers back.
Mulder refused to lie down beside her at first, as
she suggested so she could keep an eye on him.
Sometime around 3 AM he ordered her to scoot over and
then fell into bed beside her. He had vomited
thirteen times and she was concerned that he was
dehydrated. "Mulder, if I get up and bring it here,
would you try to drink a little water?"
He shook his head no, then shivered when Scully
reached over to feel his forehead. "Yes, Scully, I
have a fever," he moaned weakly. "How are you
doing?"
"I feel like death warmed over, but even at that I
think I'm in much better shape than you."
"Be thankful you only took a small bite," he groaned
as his stomach began to cramp again.
"Mulder, I need to get you to a hospital."
"No! Too sick to go to the hospital." He sat back
up on the side of the bed, clutching his stomach,
panting with exertion and pain. His hand flew to his
mouth as he gagged and took off for the bathroom
again.
Scully forced herself out of bed, leaning against the
wall as a wave of dizziness hit her. If she felt
this badly, Mulder must be near death. She forced
herself to move to the bathroom, only to be met by
Mulder, leaning heavily on the doorjamb.
"Back to bed," he ordered, breathing hard, scarcely
able to support his legs.
"Let me call 911." Her arms tried to support him.
"Bed," he choked out, moving around her and
collapsing onto it, face down.
"If you're not better in an hour, I'm calling for an
ambulance," she threatened.
"If I'm not better in an hour I'll be dead. Sleep."
Scully crawled back into bed, and began rubbing his
heaving back in small circles. Worry gnawed at her,
but soon sleep claimed them both. Although she was
awakened almost every hour when Mulder lurched off
the bed for another round of vomiting or dry heaves,
she had to agree with his argument that he wasn't
vomiting as much as he had been. She decided not to
call for an ambulance. Yet.
The next time Scully awakened she heard loud, banging
sounds. She quickly checked on Mulder, but he was
still beside her, terribly pale, but sleeping
soundly. Puzzled, she checked the alarm clock. 9:30
AM. At least they had finally gotten a little sleep.
The banging started again, and it finally dawned on
her that someone was at the door.
Groaning, she pushed herself out of bed and staggered
to the door. She looked through the peephole and was
surprised to see Skinner. She hastily opened the
door. "Sir?"
Skinner took in her disheveled appearance. He looked
past Scully and was taken aback when he spied Mulder
sprawled in her bed. "Agent Scully, what the hell is
going on here?"
"Sir?' she questioned, confused.
"What is Agent Mulder doing in your bed, or should I
even ask?" he fumed.
"Oh, sir! It's not what you think!" Scully
exclaimed, swaying as her knees began to tremble.
Skinner's glare morphed to one of concern in less
than a second.
"Scully, are you all right?" Skinner reached out to
steady her.
He looked her over more carefully. Observing her
pale appearance, he realized that she was ill. He
also noted that Mulder hadn't moved an inch since he
had entered the room. "Scully?"
"Sick. Both of us. Food poisoning," she whispered
as her knees gave way.
Skinner scooped her up and deposited her on the bed
next to Mulder. He moved around to Mulder's side and
pulled the covers back. His breathing was very
shallow, and as Skinner checked his pulse he found it
much too fast for his liking. He shook his agent's
shoulders and got no response.
"Scully, how long has he been like this?"
"Mmm, not sure. He's been very sick. Last time he
woke up was maybe six. Not sure. What's wrong?"
She blinked her eyes, obviously having trouble
focusing.
"He's unconscious."
"Wanted to call 911."
"I'm calling them now. You're probably both
dehydrated as hell. Lie back and rest. I'll see to
Mulder."
Scully found that she didn't have much choice, as her
body refused to do what she wanted it to. "Tell them
to hurry, sir."
End part 2
Headers and disclaimer in Part 1.
Mulder helped his partner into bed and gently pulled
the covers over her. "Better?" He gently sat down
beside her.
Scully nodded weakly, then took a deep breath.
"Mulder, go back to your room. I think I'll be okay
now. I'm just a little tired." He took her hand and
gently rubbed her fingers, his eyes showing his
concern.
"Uh-uh, I'm going to stay with you for a while just
in case you need anything."
"I just want to sleep."
"Fine, then sleep. I'll be right here." He squeezed
her fingers gently and reluctantly let go, although
he made no move to stand. She looked too pale for
his comfort.
Scully could tell that she wouldn't convince him to
leave. She looked at him fondly, noting that he
looked rather pale himself. "Mulder, you okay?"
"Just a little concerned about you."
"I'm okay," she answered sleepily, as she felt her
eyes closing, shutting out his worried expression.
Mulder went back to the chair he'd occupied earlier
and sat down, feeling an uncomfortable twinge in his
midsection. His stomach was definitely upset and he
knew it was only a matter of time before he would be
tossing his dinner too. Every time he thought of the
crab cakes, his nausea increased.
He eventually fell into an uneasy sleep. He heard
Scully get up again, but couldn't muster the strength
to get up and check on her.
Scully got back into bed, grateful that there was
nothing but dry heaves this time. She was surprised
that Mulder hadn't even stirred. Well, just as well.
All she needed was some sleep, and he looked a bit
off-color himself.
She had been dozing for only a few minutes when the
unmistakable sounds of Mulder in the throes being
sick awakened her. Scully's stomach gave a little
flip then settled. Well, that pretty much confirmed
what she suspected. She sighed. They both had food
poisoning.
After a few minutes, Mulder staggered from the
bathroom and reclaimed his chair. He was only there
a few minutes before leaping up and bolting for the
bathroom again.
"This is going to be a very long night," Scully
groaned as she pushed the covers back.
Mulder refused to lie down beside her at first, as
she suggested so she could keep an eye on him.
Sometime around 3 AM he ordered her to scoot over and
then fell into bed beside her. He had vomited
thirteen times and she was concerned that he was
dehydrated. "Mulder, if I get up and bring it here,
would you try to drink a little water?"
He shook his head no, then shivered when Scully
reached over to feel his forehead. "Yes, Scully, I
have a fever," he moaned weakly. "How are you
doing?"
"I feel like death warmed over, but even at that I
think I'm in much better shape than you."
"Be thankful you only took a small bite," he groaned
as his stomach began to cramp again.
"Mulder, I need to get you to a hospital."
"No! Too sick to go to the hospital." He sat back
up on the side of the bed, clutching his stomach,
panting with exertion and pain. His hand flew to his
mouth as he gagged and took off for the bathroom
again.
Scully forced herself out of bed, leaning against the
wall as a wave of dizziness hit her. If she felt
this badly, Mulder must be near death. She forced
herself to move to the bathroom, only to be met by
Mulder, leaning heavily on the doorjamb.
"Back to bed," he ordered, breathing hard, scarcely
able to support his legs.
"Let me call 911." Her arms tried to support him.
"Bed," he choked out, moving around her and
collapsing onto it, face down.
"If you're not better in an hour, I'm calling for an
ambulance," she threatened.
"If I'm not better in an hour I'll be dead. Sleep."
Scully crawled back into bed, and began rubbing his
heaving back in small circles. Worry gnawed at her,
but soon sleep claimed them both. Although she was
awakened almost every hour when Mulder lurched off
the bed for another round of vomiting or dry heaves,
she had to agree with his argument that he wasn't
vomiting as much as he had been. She decided not to
call for an ambulance. Yet.
The next time Scully awakened she heard loud, banging
sounds. She quickly checked on Mulder, but he was
still beside her, terribly pale, but sleeping
soundly. Puzzled, she checked the alarm clock. 9:30
AM. At least they had finally gotten a little sleep.
The banging started again, and it finally dawned on
her that someone was at the door.
Groaning, she pushed herself out of bed and staggered
to the door. She looked through the peephole and was
surprised to see Skinner. She hastily opened the
door. "Sir?"
Skinner took in her disheveled appearance. He looked
past Scully and was taken aback when he spied Mulder
sprawled in her bed. "Agent Scully, what the hell is
going on here?"
"Sir?' she questioned, confused.
"What is Agent Mulder doing in your bed, or should I
even ask?" he fumed.
"Oh, sir! It's not what you think!" Scully
exclaimed, swaying as her knees began to tremble.
Skinner's glare morphed to one of concern in less
than a second.
"Scully, are you all right?" Skinner reached out to
steady her.
He looked her over more carefully. Observing her
pale appearance, he realized that she was ill. He
also noted that Mulder hadn't moved an inch since he
had entered the room. "Scully?"
"Sick. Both of us. Food poisoning," she whispered
as her knees gave way.
Skinner scooped her up and deposited her on the bed
next to Mulder. He moved around to Mulder's side and
pulled the covers back. His breathing was very
shallow, and as Skinner checked his pulse he found it
much too fast for his liking. He shook his agent's
shoulders and got no response.
"Scully, how long has he been like this?"
"Mmm, not sure. He's been very sick. Last time he
woke up was maybe six. Not sure. What's wrong?"
She blinked her eyes, obviously having trouble
focusing.
"He's unconscious."
"Wanted to call 911."
"I'm calling them now. You're probably both
dehydrated as hell. Lie back and rest. I'll see to
Mulder."
Scully found that she didn't have much choice, as her
body refused to do what she wanted it to. "Tell them
to hurry, sir."
End part 2