Well Deserved Break Chapter 4: FINAL CHAPTER!, a x-files fanfic

This is a long chapter so you might wanna grab a drink and clear your schedule for a wee while! Take the phone off the hook! ;)

Final Chapter...

The teams stood around him shifting their weight from foot to foot and crossing their bulky arms across broad chests. Soon the ominous wail from the siren could be heard and two EMT's raced across the pitch carrying a stretcher. They looked her partner over while Scully told them what had happened then carefully they pressed the backboard against him and rolled him onto the stretcher. Scully frowned at the blood on his face and saw the dried blood caked around the wound just past his hairline. The skin over his swollen cheek had broken and a trickle of blood escaped from the multiple cuts there. Mulder was carried slowly to the waiting ambulance followed by Scully and Skinner.

"I'm going with him," Scully said to no one in particular and the EMT next to Mulder shoved up to give her room. The other slammed the door shut and Skinner ran back to the pitch. Scully glanced out the window in time to see the Bulldogs kicker slot the ball over the posts for the conversion points. Shaking her head she looked back to Mulder's unmoving body as the EMT slipped an oxygen mask over his mouth.

He drew blood and attached an IV but there was no more time for anything else as they pulled up outside the Doyle Memorial Hospital. They were met by a trauma team who pushed Scully aside and listened to the status of the patient from the EMT.

Mulder was wheeled into the ER and several members of staff surrounded him. A young doctor listened to his chest and yelled for an x-ray.

"Pneumothorax of the left lung...I think it's collapsed."

"You think? C'mon Roger think isn't good enough!" the older doctor by Mulders head yelled back.

"No movement or sounds from the lower lobe."

"Get a tube in there."

Roger turned and took the kit from the tray behind him. With a small incision into Mulder's chest, he fed the sightline in and finally met the resistance of the lung muscle. He inserted the tube and watched for a moment while the lung didn't move. With his stethoscope he listened again and smiled at the sight of his chest moving and his lung inflating.

"Good work Rog, get the x-ray though."

As if on cue, the x-ray machine bounded though the large swing doors. Two radiologists cleared the space around him and placed the machine over his chest. But before they could clear away the doctor ordered leg and head x-rays too.

With Mulders breathing stabilised, they went about cleaning his head wound and strapping his leg into a splint as they waited for the results of the x- ray.

Scully paced the small hall outside the ER anxious to get in to stand by him, comfort him while they poked and prodded him with all the medical instruments within their reach. At the sound of the door squeaking open she whipped around and saw the doctor approaching her tentatively, a folder in his hand.

"Ms. Scully?"

"Yes, how is he?" she stepped over to him but he led her into a small room just off the hallway and switched on the lights for the x-ray's. He slid them into place and Scully could see Mulders lung, the tube in place helping him breath. His headshot was clear of any major trauma but the leg shot showed how much pain he was really in.

His kneecap had been split straight down the middle from top to bottom, a clean break, looking like it had been done with a tool rather than a pair of cleats.

"As you can see from this picture his lung had collapsed, there is still some air in there so we've fixed the tube and we'll leave it in over night. His head although having taken a few bangs has sustained little or no damage."

"Some swelling over the left frontal lobe...I'm a doctor," she added quietly at his strange look.

"But his knee is what is worrying us. The patella has been split completely in two. We will have to operate."

"Replace it?"

"We are hoping to salvage it with metal plates but we won't know exactly how bad it is until we get in there."

"When?"

"Straight away. We need your signature. You're his next of kin?"

"Eh, yeah of course." She followed him out to the front desk where she signed the papers quickly. "May I see him before you take him in."

"Certainly."

In the ER room he was still being attended to, bandages covering his head and nurses cleaning his blood off his face and neck.

"Hey Mulder," she whispered, taking his hand and squeezing it hoping to get a reaction but he gave none. "Hold on Mulder...I'll be here when you get out."

The work around him stopped and they disconnected what they could before pushing him out of the room and up to surgery. Scully walked alongside the bed until they got to the operating room. She kissed her fingers and pressed them to his temple, waiting back as they closed the doors behind them taking him out of her sight.

He'd been in there for an hour when Skinner found her. She was sitting in the waiting room on a large windowsill looking out at the busy roads below.

"How is he?"

"In surgery." She spoke without looking up, her voice distant and low.

"His head?"

"No, his knee." Turning to face him she let her feet dangle over the edge not touching the floor. "His kneecap was split in half. They are going to try to repair it but they might need to replace it."

"Replace it?" Skinner was shocked as he crossed the room and stood before her. "With what?"

"An artificial patella. It's a small bone but very thick and they are going to try to repair it with metal plates first."

"How are you?" he said suddenly a hand reaching out to her shoulder.

"Me?...I'm fine."

The doctor chose that moment to walk in and pulled a surgical mask off his face as he crossed the room. His smile was the first thing Scully noticed and she prayed he wasn't the type of man who walked around smiling, but instead it meant he had good news for her.

"Ms Scully...eh."

"This is Walter Skinner. How is Mulder? How did the surgery go?"

"The patella was split right through. He must have had a previous injury for it to be so weak...otherwise this wouldn't have happened. We salvaged it by attaching two small plates across the cap at the top and bottom." He moved a pen across his own knee showing them exactly what had been done.

"So it won't need to be replaced?" she said with some measure of relief.

"Not if this holds. It could rupture and we'll need to go back in but there's a good chance it wont."

"What sort of recuperation are we looking at?" she asked stepping forward and Skinner noticed she had slipped off her shoes making her seem smaller than usual.

"With the plates holding in place he will be in a hip to ankle cast for eight weeks then the physio would begin. This could vary a week or so but generally it's eight weeks. We'll take x-rays to monitor his progress and make sure the plates are holding."

"And if you need to go back in?" Skinner asked stepping closer to Scully and pressing a hand onto her shoulder.

"We'll replace the patella in a fairly simple routine but the recuperation is a lot longer...a lot tougher. A fixator will be attached to his knee with a hip to ankle cast for six weeks. After it's been removed he'll still need to be in a cast for another six to eight weeks. The physio is harder for this operation but he should still make a full recovery."

"How is his lung?"

"It held out well. The tube will come out in the morning barring any complications."

"When can I see him?"

"He's still in recovery at the moment but as soon as he's been transferred to his room I'll send one of the nurses to get you."

"Thank you."

The surgeon smiled again and walked out of the room. Skinners arm around her shoulder tightened and she took a few deep breaths. They ambled down to the canteen and got cups of treacle coffee before returning to the waiting room. They hadn't reclaimed their seats when a nurse knocked softly on the door.

"Ms. Scully, you can see him now if you want." Scully shot up and followed the nurse out of the door to the private room by the nurse's station. "He's still unconscious but we're expecting him to wake up any minute. I thought it would be nice if he saw a friendly face."

"Thank you."

Scully approached him slowly almost creeping across the room. Taking his hand she bent over him and pressed a soft kiss to his temple. A large white bandage covered the wound on his head and his leg sat in plaster under the sheets, a frame holding them away from him.

"Hey Mulder, this is taking it a bit far don't you think?"

In his mouth, the large respirator tube sank down into his throat and Scully knew it was painful but helping. She ran her hand over his face, which was bruised and scraped, from the game, his cheek swollen even more then before. She squeezed his hand and was delighted to feel a small squeeze back.

"Mulder? Can you hear me?"

With some effort his blinking slowed down and he managed to hold his mouth open. Scully immediately pressed the call button and placed a firm but gentle hand onto his chest to stop him from moving. He struggled to breath around the respirator tube and coughed, panicky when he couldn't get a breath.

"Don't fight it Mulder, we'll get it out in a minute...look at me, listen to my voice." She turned his head to face her the panic in his eyes searching her as tears fell from the sides and rolled down to his ears. "It's okay...it's coming out now."

Two nurses rushed in and one of them fiddled with the breathing apparatus while the other removed the tape from the tube around his mouth.

"Hold on Mr. Mulder."

Mulder hardly acknowledged her, staring only at Scully as she held his hand and rubbed his chest. She smiled at him reassuringly but the panic in his eyes only increased as the tube moved.

"Ok Mr. Mulder...I want you to cough; cough and exhale really hard and we'll have this out in a minute."

Scully squeezed his hand and breathed in time with him, pressing her palm against his chest as the nurse pulled the long thick tube out. Mulder coughed and wheezed against the unnatural feeling of pressure that engulfed his throat.

"All done Mr. Mulder, all done," the nurse said as she got rid of the tube in a bin behind her.

They measured his vitals again and soon left the room. Scully sat on the edge of the bed still holding his hand and stroking the side of his face gently.

"Hey," he rasped. She poured a glass of water and held it up for him to sip.

"Hey. How do you feel?"

"Beat up."

"Well you're not wrong there."

"What happened?"

"You scored."

"I did?" A smile crossed his chapped lips.

"But then you passed out."

"I did."

"Your knee Mulder. You broke your kneecap." A frown tainted his features and she imagined it was a painful expression as it tightened the skin around his wound. "They operated and fixed plates to it."

"To my knee?" He was about to sit up to take a look but the pain in his head forced him back down against the pillows. "What does that mean?"

"It means if it holds out you'll be in a cast for six weeks then have to go through physio to get it up to 100%."

"If it holds out?"

"Well it was a complete split. If it doesn't hold out you'll need another operation to replace it with an artificial patella."

The severity of his injury seemed to hit home at her words and his face was filled with fear and worry.

"You got a bang on your head and Pneumothorax in your left lung so you will be in here for a week or so." Her hand still holding his rubbed small circles into his palm but he didn't seem to notice, his head swimming with knees and injuries and operations and everything else he'd have to endure before getting back on his feet, both literally and proverbially. He smiled at his own bad sense of humour and Scully looked up to him.

"What is it?"

"I can't believe this happened." He let out a chest chuckle that turned into a cough so she helped him take another drink.

"I know but it has so all you need to do is concentrate on getting better."

"I'm glad you're not the type of person who likes to say I told you so."

"So am I Mulder."

A soft knock on the door drew their attention and they both turned to see Skinner stepping in. He crossed the room with an agility that belied his size, and stood at the bottom of Mulder's bed.

"How are you holding up Mulder?"

"A bit of a shock but my doc here tells me it should all be fine...given time." He glanced up at Scully and smiled before looking back to Skinner. "How did the game go?"

"Bulldogs won by nine points. Your try counted and we got another two after that."

"Good. So it wasn't all in vain then." His voice was dripping with sarcasm and a wicked smile curved his lips, but with swollen and scraped cheeks he couldn't hold the expression for long.

"I better go. I'll see you soon Mulder."

"Good game Skin-man!" Mulder called after him getting rewarded with a blushing smile from his boss before he closed the door behind him. Scully looked down at him and caught him yawning so she stood off the bed and turned to face him fully.

"I'm going to go and let you get some rest. I could do with a change of clothes and a shower."

"Okay. Thanks for staying with me."

"Anytime."

She squeezed his hand and left the room. After she shut the door, Mulder lifted up his sheet and glanced at his leg. The plaster from the cast was still damp and stuck to his skin but he stared at his toes and tried to wiggle them. Nothing moved. With a sigh he dropped the sheet over the frame again only to be surprised by the sight of a nurse standing by his bed.

"Sorry I didn't mean to frighten you."

"That's okay...I eh, I can't move my toes."

"Well you've just had knee surgery. It'll be a few days before the feeling comes back. and when it does..."

"...I'll wish it didn't," he finished for her.

"Something like that. So you're a rugby player?"

"No I'm an FBI Agent." He held out his arm for her to measure his blood pressure.

"Oh your wife said you were playing rugby."

"I was, but not professionally." He couldn't help the smile from her remark wondering why Scully hadn't corrected the assumption on their marital status.

"I see." She jotted down her findings in the chart and smiled at him again. "Are you in any pain Mr Mulder?"

"Not at the moment."

"Well just holler if you need anything. No point in suffering in silence."

"Yeah, I will." Mulder let his head rest back onto the pillow and closed his eyes. A dull throb emanated from his leg but it was a comforting pain letting him know his leg was there, still attached...just a little damaged. His hand went down to his other leg and he pressed his palm to his thigh. He took comfort from the flexing muscle under his hand and soon rolled into a fitful sleep.

Arlington Apartment #42

28th July 2001 4.15PM

Scully pushed the door open and walked in. The key was jammed in the lock and when she managed to force it out, her elbow flew back hitting him in the chest. Mulder yelped and stumbled back on his crutches, catching himself against the doorframe before he fell or put any weight on his leg.

"Oh god, I'm sorry!" her hand covered her mouth disguising a small smile, but Mulder pushed himself off the frame and went past her into the living room. He dropped onto the couch with a heavy whoosh, his leg sticking out in front. With both hands under his knee, he lifted it onto the table and carefully sat back afraid to jostle it.

Scully shut the door and walked in with his bag. She dropped it into the bedroom and came back to his side where she put a cushion under his foot.

"How are you feeling?"

"A little winded after that elbow to the chest but ok otherwise."

His face had all but returned to normal except for the scraped lines on his cheek and the blue thread stitching peering out by his hairline. The wound had been left open and the stitches would dissolve so his only worry was his knee.

"The surgeon said you should keep it elevated. Wouldn't you rather go to bed? Lie down?"

"Scully I just spent the last 10 days in the hospital...lying down...I want to sit up, I want to watch TV, I want to get through one hour without anyone taking my blood pressure or drawing blood or asking for x-rays or asking how I'm feeling!"

"Okay, okay."

She walked into the kitchen and he immediately regretted his outburst. But when she came back with a glass of water for him he smiled at her and she couldn't help but return it.

"I don't suppose you'd pass me the remote?" he asked sheepishly.

"Are you sure you want to stay here? Why don't you come back to my place?"

"No Scully I'm fine. A bit of time on my own will be good."

"I'm going to my mom's this evening but I should be back at ten-ish. I'll call in on my way home."

"Scully I'll be fine, you don't need to."

"I'll call in." she passed him the phone and the remote and walked to his bathroom making sure the path was clear for him. She'd already been by during the week and changed his sheets and cleaned up a bit. "There are some sandwiches in the fridge and a flask of juice."

"Thanks Scully."

"I'll see you later."

She left in a hurry before she could change her mind and talk him into staying at her place. It was warm out and it made for a pleasant drive to her mother's house, while Mulder found it stuffy and stale in his apartment. He thought of going to the window to let in some fresh air but thought better of it at the sight of the PC and phone cables adorning the floor. With his remote he flicked through the endless cycles of channels, stopping only when something caught his eye but generally continuously flicking.

On the Sci-Fi Channel he saw that they were playing all four Planet of The Apes Movies and the first one was only about half way through.

"Get your filthy paws off me you ape!" he parroted with Charlton Heston, smiling as he snuggled deeper into the couch and settled in to watch them. The day passed relatively quickly with one trip to the bathroom and two trips to the kitchen. The flask Scully had left in the kitchen had a loop on it so he could carry it around his neck. He smiled at her thoughtfulness and regretted, not for the first time, not taking her up on the offer to stay at her place.

He suddenly realised that the room had fallen dark around him, the eerie glow of the television casting a dull shine on his living room. Glancing at the clock he saw it was half past eight and as if his stomach could tell time it rumbled loudly and uncomfortably. He'd already eaten the sandwiches shortly after she left and he knew he wouldn't be able to cook anything.

With a smile Mulder realised even without the crutches he probably wouldn't be able to cook anything. Stretching out, he managed to get a take-out menu from the table in front of him. Flipping through the pages he couldn't decide on anything to eat, his mind reeled with ideas of what he'd really like to eat and pizza wasn't one of them. But conceding to the state he was in, he called up and ordered a large New Yorker and a coke. It would be another forty minutes before it got here and after thirty of those minutes had passed Mulder started to get up. He was standing wobbly in the middle of his living room reaching for his crutches when there was a knock at the door.

"Coming!" he yelled as he crouched over and picked it up off the floor. He hobbled over to the door and it took him another five minutes to open it and get out of the way to swing it open. The deliveryman on the other side was surprised at the injured man who answered.

"$14.97," he said holding out the box and bottle of coke to Mulder. Mulder looked up at him with a grimace and looked down to the crutches.

"Could you leave it on the table?"

The young man carefully side stepped him and dropped it hastily on the table rushing back to the door to collect the money.

"$14.97," he said again.

"There ya go."

Mulder handed him $15 and left him with the three cents. He closed the door and headed carefully over to the table. Looking down at his cast and at the table, he decided he wouldn't be comfortable sitting there so he glanced up at the couch. A room that once seemed cramped with a table and chairs now seemed to have a vast expanse looming over it. The distance would be too far to hop and besides, the jarring motion of the leaping shot pain up his leg to the core of his being where it burned with knowing justice. Balancing on the chair, Mulder tossed the crutches over to the couch. They hit the leather material and slid to the floor with a loud clatter.

For a moment he didn't move, not sure what he was about to do next but then he managed to sit himself into the chair, change his hand hold and slide to the floor, all without hitting his leg on anything. Smiling smugly, he felt a wave of pride wash over him at his small accomplishment only to realise he couldn't reach his food anymore.

Hoisting himself back onto the chair he got the pizza and coke and put them carefully onto the floor before joining them. He hooked his good foot under his bad leg at the ankle, and lifted it off the ground to offer it that last piece of protection. The pizza box he balanced on his lap and the bottle of coke he rolled over to the couch. He realised he wouldn't be able to open it for a while without spraying the room but it was a small price to pay.

With his hands on the floor and his legs hovering mere inches off the ground he slowly made his way across the floor on his ass; the short journey taking longer than he expected. He reached the coffee table and put the food on it. He found sweat pooling on his back, dampening his shirt and his face covered in a fine sheen.

Taking a few deep breaths, he settled his back against the couch, grabbing a cushion for his leg he settled down, resting a moment more before opening the food. The cheese was piping hit and a lot of the ingredients had rolled about when he'd dragged it across the floor. But it smelled so good he didn't mind. Pulling out a slice he loosened it from the rest of the pie and held it up. The narrow end was folded back and he bit it off revelling in the sweet taste of anything other than hospital rations, until the searing hot pain hit his leg. He yelped and looked down only to see the rest of the topping had slid off the slice and was currently pooling against his leg on his upper thigh.

He pulled it off quickly and dropped it onto the open box sucking his fingers to soothe the burn from the hot food. Looking down at his leg he sighed at the red mark the hot food had left and he was all but ready to cry. He winced at the stinging pain he could feel in his thigh and pulled at the wet material of his sweats to get it off his skin but it was no use. He would have to take them off he decided, and thinking of the effort at getting them on this morning he didn't relish the idea.

Moving the pizza away, he lifted his butt off the floor and carefully inched the sweats down to his thighs. Managing to keep his boxers up he rested for a minute before getting them down his legs. Bending his good leg up to his chest he freed it, managing to pull his sweats down his cast by dragging it with his good foot. Relief came then with the cool air washing over his bared legs and he sighed loudly dropping his head onto the couch.

Carefully he managed to eat the rest of his pizza with the roof of his mouth only getting second-degree burns. He wanted to get back onto the couch, stop the carpet from scratching his legs but his energy was gone so he lay where he was.

And that was where she found him. Slowly she opened the front door, trying to be quiet in case he was sleeping but was surprised and a tad alarmed to see him sprawled out on the floor by his couch. His head was lying back and facing the window and for a moment she thought he had fallen until she spotted the bottle of coke and the empty pizza box. His sweats piled up by his feet she couldn't explain, but she walked in and left her bag on the table. He stirred at the presence in the room and rolled his head around lazily to look at her.

"Scully?" Confusion soaked through his voice but he rubbed his eyes to get a better picture. She sat on the couch beside him and leaned forward, lowering her head to his.

"What are you doing on the floor Mulder?"

"I had to get down to carry my dinner over here."

"Ok. But why are your pants off?" Glancing down he blushed at the picture he presented.

"I spilled melted cheese on them and it was burning my leg...so I took them off."

She looked down to the red patch on his upper thigh and suppressed her smile. Walking into the kitchen she dampened the corner of a towel with cold water and brought it in to him.

"It probably won't do much good now but it couldn't hurt." He took the towel and pressed it to his still aching leg. Grimacing he pressed it harder and looked up at her smiling face.

"I'm glad I could make you smile Scully."

"Sorry Mulder but just the thought of you dragging yourself across the floor..."

"Yeah yeah...so how is your Mom?"

"She's fine. She sends her love and well wishes."

"With all these well wishes I should be right as rain in no time."

"Will you come and stay at my place Mulder, please? "

"I'm fine here Scully."

"Okay well why haven't you gotton back onto the couch yet? Or got a clean pair of sweats? Or water for he burn?"

"Scully-"

"No Mulder no excuses. You're in no shape to look after yourself and the sooner you swallow that damned pride of yours and realise it the better."

He had the grace to look a little admonished as she stood up and cleared away his mess from dinner. He knew she was right but he couldn't crawl to her place to lick his wounds every time he was hurt. Still, it wasn't often he was this hurt. He watched as she moved about the room picking up his sweats before disappearing into his bedroom to get him a fresh pair.

"Okay Scully," he said as she approached him again. "Okay I'll stay on one condition."

"Mulder it's an offer. An offer to help you relax and recuperate in comfort. It's not a sentence. Stay here if you want."

Dammit she was hurt. Hurt by his simple brush off and all he had to do was admit he needed her.

"Scully I'm sorry. I do want to go stay with you, I just don't want to impose."

"If it were an imposition I wouldn't have made the offer." Her voice softened and she smiled as she sat on the couch. He let his head fall against her knee and smiled.

"Yeah you would."

"I know." She laughed with him and stood again. "But it's not an imposition." She helped him get his pants on.

"Okay, lets go then. This room is starting to stink."

"Yeah...the room..." she went to his room and packed some belongings for him.

"Are you implying I stink Agent Scully?" he said when she handed him his crutches and helped him up.

"Friends tell friends when they smell."

"Well maybe that bed bath is long overdue."

"Maybe Mulder. But I reckon you'll be stinking for a while to come if we're going to depend on me giving you a bed-bath."

"Are you reneging on your offer?"

"I never offered, if I recall correctly."

She locked the door behind them and they slowly made their way down to the lift. Waiting for it, he leaned against the wall and looked down at her with a lazy smile.

"Your offer, my offer, does it really matter?"

"Depends on the offer." She let him into the elevator first and stepped in after him, hitting the button for the ground floor with her palm.

"Are you making an offer now?"

He was standing behind her but he leaned forward and curled his head over her shoulder and whispered into her ear.

"Mulder, you're not fit enough to take up any offers."

"Aww Scully you wouldn't do that to an injured man, I'm not stable enough to take rejection." he said huskily.

She ignored his bait and held the elevator door open for him to step out. It took some manoeuvring to get him into the car without hurting his leg, but finally they managed it and after the drive struggled all over again to get him out.

They bundled into her apartment and he made a direct line for her couch. He collapsed with a soft moan that he hoped she didn't hear but she was by his side in seconds, a comforting a hand on his chest.

"You ok?"

"Yeah. Trip took a lot out of me."

"You look exhausted," she let her hands play through his hair and he leaned into her touch. "I'll make us some tea and you can rest. We'll just have a quiet evening together, watch a movie or something if you like."

"Hey that sounds great...but please no rough sports movies, I'd be happy to watch whatever girlie movie you have instead."

"Even Steel Magnolias?" Mulder pursed his lips and stuck out his bottom lip.

"Yeah, even that one."

Scully went to go into the kitchen but something made her turn around. Mulder was looking at her with a doe eyed expression. He looked adorable.

"Scully, I'm glad I came, really. And thanks for being there for me. I guess I should have left my male bravado on the rugby field huh."

"You're welcome, and yes you should have. But I'll always be on the sidelines watching your back. Always."

"I know." His words were low and she wasn't sure if they were meant for her ears but it was an honest statement she couldn't ignore. Walking back to him she crouched by his head and gently touched his cheek.

"And you're watching mine."

"You know it Scully. The next time you get injured for no good reason but to impress the women-folk you can always recuperate at my place."

"Thanks." She patted his cheek as she stood to get the promised tea. It was good to be here together. She could have easily lost him playing a silly testosterone fuelled game and not even in the line of FBI duty this time.

"So what did we decide on the bed-bath situation?" She didn't answer until she returned with their drinks and gave him a kilowatt packed smile full of promise, but by the time she came out again, Mulder was fast asleep.

Carefully she fetched a throw from her linen closet and stretched it over his sleeping form. "Sweet dreams." She whispered as she kissed her fingers and gently laid them on his cheek.

The end.