Chapter 10

Mulder reluctantly opened his eyes, feeling like he had just gone to sleep. His watch was within his line of sight and a quick glance showed it was almost 8:00. It seemed unbelievable that they had been able to get any sleep at all after the crash. Realizing that Scully was still sleeping, he kept perfectly still. Despite the circumstances, he rather enjoyed having his head pillowed carefully on her lap. Worry, though, pushed to the forefront of awareness as he listened to her ragged breathing.

They couldn't stay here forever. Since the car had gone over the side of the road, it was unlikely to be found any time soon. Scully desperately needed medical attention, but realistically, how far could they hike in their condition? Should they stay or should they go? He continued to mull over possibilities, letting Scully sleep as long as she could, knowing she'd need all the rest she could get.

Suddenly, she coughed. The intense pain woke her instantly, without warning and she was unable to keep from crying out as her hands splinted her chest.

"Scully!' Mulder cried as he tried in vain to sit up. However, in the past few hours his back and neck had stiffened to the point of immobility. (So this is what whiplash feels like,) he thought distantly as he flailed his arms and legs to try and pull himself up.

Scully immediately realized the difficulty he was having and why. She placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. "Mulder-don't," she said, breathlessly. "Stop - please."

Startled, Mulder exhaled and became still.

Scully continued, "Be careful, Mulder. If you keep fighting like this, you're just going to hurt yourself and -" Abruptly she broke off.

Mulder, however, finished the sentence for her. "And you," he said grimly.

"Well, yes," Scully admitted ruefully. "Now lie still a minute." Gently she palpated his neck, feeling how tight the muscles were. Very slowly and very carefully she began to knead the knotted cords at his neck.

Mulder couldn't help but moan. "Oh - God, Scully," he groaned.

"Sssshh," Scully soothed as she continued working her fingers into the muscles.

Mulder moaned again as his arms and legs began to tingle with the return of warmth and circulation. He felt like he was somewhere between pain and ecstasy. That tiny voice in his head pointed out that if he weren't in so much pain, he'd really be in heaven right now.

He was able to wriggle slightly, allowing Scully to reach further past his collar, working the top of his shoulders and back. She couldn't help but smile at the sounds emanating from her partner nestled on her lap. She patiently and, seemingly tirelessly, continued her gentle but firm massage as she let her thoughts drift away, away from her own pain and fears. She focused all her thoughts and energy on Mulder...

Gradually he became more relaxed and Scully wondered if he was about to start purring, which gave her a pleasant mental image. Mulder tried to ignore the reaction the rest of his body was having to Scully's ministrations. Any other time...any other place...

Scully felt another cough tickling the back of her throat and swallowed several times in an effort to prevent it. When it became apparent that she wouldn't be able to, she braced her chest wall. The fire that exploded in her lungs managed to rip another hoarse cry from her lips.

Mulder stiffened. "Scully? Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she gasped, blinking away the tears that clouded her vision.

Mulder wasn't buying it and in a moment of strength was able to lift himself to a sitting position. Instantly, he knew he'd made a terrible mistake. His rapid movement caused his head to swim as pain and nausea swept over him like a tidal wave and his hands flew up - ostensibly to keep his head from exploding.

"Mulder!" Scully cried out. (He's actually turning green!) She thought hysterically.

Frantically, Mulder pulled himself away from her and was able to throw himself over the log before his empty stomach heaved. Scully heard his violent retching and pushing past her own agony, managed to crawl over to him. Draped unceremoniously over the huge log, Mulder felt her hand on his back, supporting him and was grateful.

Scully watched him closely, silently, until he finally raised up, moving slowly and carefully. "Oh, Mulder..." she whispered as she lovingly brushed away the locks of hair that had fallen in his face. He was sweating in the cold morning air.

"I'll be okay," he muttered, seeing the anxiety written all over her face. And something else. "Just give me a minute."

"You have a concussion," she said, stating the obvious.

"Not the first time, partner," he quipped "and I'm sure it won't be the last."

"I know," she retorted sadly, eyes downcast. "That's what scares me."

Mulder smiled weakly. "I didn't think anything scared you, G-woman."

Scully quirked her lips and shook her head. Leave it to Mulder to try and joke his way out of this. She jumped slightly when he reached over to tenderly touch her left cheek, now horribly bruised and swollen.

"Are you sure it's not broken?" He asked, in concern.

Her fingers brushed his as she tried to ascertain the answer. "I don't know. Possibly, but I don't even feel that."

(Her ribs.) Mulder thought worriedly watching her breathe in short, shallow gasps. "How's the rib brace holding?"

"Good," she replied. Mulder just stared at her. She sighed. "Aren't we a pair?"

"Pair of what?" He joked. Then, he noticed her shivering. "Come on," he said as helped her back to her spot in front of the dwindling fire. "I guess we need to decide if we stay here or go off in search of help. Personally, I vote for staying here. Neither one of us is in any condition to go hiking through these woods."

Scully shook her head. "I agree that we're in pretty bad shape, but we aren't going to be able to stay here."

"Why not?" Mulder asked in confusion.

"A cold front will be here tonight. I heard it on the radio yesterday, while I was driving. Snow is expected. So, hiking will be difficult to say the least, but we have to keep moving. Shelter will have to be our top priority."

"Shit," Mulder growled in frustration. Scully was right. A campfire wouldn't protect them at all from a storm. Neither would the burned out hull of their car. He looked over at his partner, who was watching him expectantly, her eyes conveying the worry she felt and could not hide. "Scully, are you sure you can do this? I mean - don't get mad at me, I'm just..."

"Worried about me," she finished for him quietly. "I know, Mulder. I also know that you weren't being patronizing." She paused a moment before continuing. "I thought a lot about it while I was trying to get to sleep and I just don't think we can safely stay here."

"We can't 'safely' travel, either, you know," Mulder said darkly, unable to stop himself. He instantly regretted his words. (Why am I pointing out the obvious? Do we really need a self-fulfilling prophecy?) He thought, rubbing his aching neck.

Scully bit her lip and sadly shook her head. "Maybe you should go on and see if you can find help."

Mulder's head snapped up. "Not a chance in hell, Scully," he growled, "am I leaving you alone here."

"But Mulder," she argued, "you'd have a better chance of finding help and bringing it to me if I'm not holding you back."

"I told you once before, Scully: you don't hold me back." Mulder fought down his anger and fear. "And what happens if I get lost? Or I can't find the way back to you in time? What happens then?" he demanded hotly.

Scully looked stricken at the possibilities that hadn't occurred to her. Mulder backed off and caressed her uninjured cheek.

"I'm not leaving you, Scully. I'll never leave you," he vowed. He stared at her, catching her eyes and holding them.

Scully felt herself melt as the depth of his devotion washed over her and she knew that he wasn't just talking about right now. "I love you," she suddenly whispered, surprising herself and shocking the hell out of Mulder. She froze. (Was that me? Did I really just say that?) One look at Mulder's face answered that question without a doubt.

Mulder felt his hand fall to his side.

(Oh, God,) Scully thought, desperately wishing that she could take it back. (What have I done?) She clenched her jaw. She was not about to cry. She couldn't.

Mulder caught the sudden fear cloud Scully's face and knew immediately that she had misunderstood his reaction. Tenderly he reached back up to cup her face, forcing her to look at him. "Dana Scully - don't you know that I love you, too? I always have and I always will," he said passionately.

The tears came then. Two of them slid down her cheeks and Mulder gently brushed them away, nearly overcome with the pure love radiating from her eyes.''

"Now that we've got that settled, are you ready to go?" He asked, with a smile.

Mutely, Scully nodded. She would do this. If Mulder wasn't going to leave her here, she was determined to follow him no matter what. He stood up slowly and waited for the vertigo to pass before helping Scully to her feet.

Her face a deathly white, she desperately fought to stay upright. The only sound she made was her breathing, heavy and hoarse. "Ready," she said, struggling not to pant as she spoke. She didn't want to sound any weaker than she was.

Mulder swallowed and felt a trickle of unease. Grimly, he took her arm and together they made their way to the bottom of the embankment. The brushes were thicker and almost as tall as Scully, forcing Mulder to walk ahead to clear a path on the rocky, uneven terrain. He would have preferred to walk side by side, but he knew that he couldn't let her fall, lest her broken ribs cause further damage or even death.

By unspoken agreement and necessitated by their injuries, the pace was slow and cautious. Mulder was unable to turn and look at Scully due to the spasms in his neck and back, but he heard each and every labored, agonized breath that she took right behind him. Bushes sprang into his face. He pushed them aside, holding them the extra beat to allow Scully through unscathed. The trees were dense, growing everywhere, battling each other for a little space. Thick gray clouds filled the sky and Mulder wasn't exactly sure in what direction they were traveling anymore.

The pounding headache was unrelenting, the nausea fought for his attention but he continued on. They either found shelter before the storm, or they died. It was as simple and as terrifying as that. Behind him, Scully concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Conversation was impossible: she was unable to walk, talk and breathe at the same time. Each step resulted in a horrible burning lance of pain, making her believe that her lungs were on fire. She wondered briefly how long they could survive the effects of shock and exposure. Staring at her partner's back, she knew that as long as he was there, she would keep on fighting, unwilling to leave him just when they had finally declared their love. They had a lot to talk about. Love and their survival instincts kept them going when every muscle in their bodies screamed for them to stop.