Title: What He Knew
Author: Gillian Leigh
Summary: What if Skinner had been abducted instead of Mulder? What would it mean for the X-Files and for Mulder and Scully themselves? Why would he have been abducted in the first place? Post-Requiem.
Disclaimer: They're not mine. If they were, would I be writing this?!
-x-
"Cancer," Scully said, before Doggett could even pose the question.
"They're sure?" he asked, sinking into a chair beside her in the waiting room. She nodded, and placed her head in her hands.
"He experienced what the doctors called 'anomalous brain activity' earlier in the year. They think this could have stemmed from it." Massaging her temples, Scully tried to ignore the nausea that was rising in her throat again. This anxiety could not be good for her baby.
"Agent Scully, you don't look so good," Doggett said, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe you should go back to the hotel and get some rest."
"I can't do that, Agent Doggett. I'm Mulder's doctor; they need me here to answer questions about his medical history." Doggett opened his mouth to protest, but Scully spoke again. "Where's Gibson?"
"With Agent Krane. He's being guarded at all times. Don't worry," he responded. She nodded.
"Thank you," she replied. Yawning, she ran her hands once over her face.
"What do we do?" Doggett questioned. Scully faced him, reflexively arching an eyebrow.
"About what, Agent Doggett?"
"About Mulder."
"They need to run some more tests," she said. She was exhausted; the fact that it was nearly three in the morning was starting to catch up to her. "There's nothing left to do but wait." Doggett nodded, and turned his attention to the people passing by. It amazed him how alive hospitals were at night. They sat in silence.
Scully's mind was in a terrible place, though none of it showed through her face. She kept going over the possibilities. 'What will I do if he dies?' she thought. 'I can't raise this baby alone...'
"Scully?" she looked up to find Doggett standing before her, brandishing a cup of coffee. "You look like you could use it."
"Thank you," she said, taking the cup from him. She was prepared to take a sip, and then she stopped herself, and found that she looked at it longingly.
"Is something wrong?" Doggett asked.
"I can't have caffeine," she replied.
"Oh," he said, offering his hand for the cup. "I didn't know. I just assumed that you'd take coffee since every other law enforcement official I've ever met is addicted to the stuff." She smiled weakly and handed him the cup.
"I'm addicted myself, I have to admit. But I can't have any...for medical reasons." "High blood pressure?" he questioned.
"Something like that..." she returned. A lab-coated doctor appeared in the hallway, and stopped before the two of them.
"Dr. Scully?" he said. She shot to her feet.
"Yes, I'm Dr. Scully," she said. The doctor smiled and extended her hand.
"Hello, I'm Dr. Anders."
"How is he? How's Mulder?" Scully asked frantically. Dr. Anders smiled slightly, leading Scully away from Doggett.
"We're done running tests for now, and Mr. Mulder would like to see you," she said.
"It's definitely cancer?" The doctor's expression sobered.
"Yes. I'm afraid so. And from the results we've gathered so far, the tumor appears to be inoperable. It's what's called nasopharyngeal mass. It's a small growth between the superior conchea and the sinoidal sinus," she said, keeping her voice low. Scully suddenly felt ill, and it wasn't morning sickness.
"Oh my God," she croaked. "I think I'm going to be sick. Excuse me..." She bolted down the hallway and into the women's restroom, where she then emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl. Three years ago, she had said that same sentence to Mulder, as it had been relayed to her by her oncologist. It had almost been her death sentence. She sat back, leaning against the stall door, and cradled her head in her hands. An inoperable brain tumor, in the same place as hers had been, but what she couldn't understand was what brought on Mulder's cancer. Hers had come from the removal of the chip from her neck, and it went away only when the chip was replaced. But Mulder couldn't have had a chip in his neck, could he? Her thought process was interrupted by a knocking and Doggett calling her name once before she heard the door open.
"Agent Scully, I hope you're alone in there because I'm coming in," he said. She leaned her back against the door, and sighed.
"Fuck," she muttered before hoisting herself to her feet. She opened the stall door and found herself face to face with Doggett.
"Are you alright?" he questioned. She nodded.
"I'm fine," she replied, though her voice was undoubtedly shaky. "I'm fine."
"Agent Scully..." Doggett began in a chastising tone. Exhausted, nauseas, hormonal and terrified, Scully snapped.
"Agent Doggett, I don't know who the hell you think you are, but you need to back off. I am a grown woman, and I can take care of myself just fine. I don't need you worrying over me every time I so much as sneeze the wrong way. You're not my partner and you're most certainly not my mother. We barely know each other, and everything that you've done recently hasn't exactly inspired my confidence in you, so I suggest that you leave me the hell alone. Are we clear?"
"Yes, we're clear," he said, turning on his heel and walking out of the bathroom. Realizing that she had been unduly harsh, Scully thought for a moment of going after him, but stopped when she was hit with another wave of nausea. She grumbled under her breath and ducked back into the stall.
She exited the bathroom, moments later, and turned the corner to find Dr. Anders looking at her in concern.
"Are you alright, Dr. Scully? Maybe I should be treating you as well," she said, speaking quietly to Scully, who forced a smile.
"I'm fine. Can I trust you to keep something in confidence?" Scully said, deciding telling her would be easier than keeping it from everyone.
"Of course," Dr. Anders replied.
"I'm pregnant," Scully said, keeping her voice low.
"I guessed as much," Dr. Anders replied, grinning slightly. Scully smiled too.
"There are exactly three people who know, and you're one of them, the other two being Mulder and myself."
"Ah, so it's a well-kept secret."
"Yes," she said. "One of the few in the world. Now where did you say Mulder's room was?"
"Straight down the hall, the first door on your left."
"Thank you," she mumbled, heading down the hall. She paused at his door, and took a deep breath before going inside.
-x-
A/N: At the risk of all of you somehow finding out where I live and storming my house with pitchforks and torches, I'm promising a relatively quick update (I'm hesitant to say quick, because I have two major projects for school due this week), and before you kill me for making Mulder sick, remember that Chris Carter did it to Scully, and that I have the power to make anything happen within the realm of this story. :o) So please read and review.