I must have passed out, last thing I remember was passing out in the forest. And someone was carrying me...I can hear beeping, lots of people rushing around. Something about cold blue… I must be at a hospital. And someone is in my room, no, more then just someone, there are two people arguing.
"Scully. Let's just wait until he wakes up." Mulder attempts to make his partner see reason. At least his version of reason.
"Mulder! No one could survive the injuries you describe. How can you explain the fact, that when we got to the ER he had no wounds." Screeches the know-it-all ginger harpy.
"But he was still covered in blood. His blood. Where could it have come from, if he wasn't hurt?" Retorts Mulder, a satisfied smug on his aging features.
"I'm not sure. But I do know that it wasn't from his intestines being ripped out like you say." She halts her ice-thin comeback, storming out of the room, slamming the door behind her. The overly stressed FBI agent slumps into a chair, wiping a hand over his face. Regretting his harsh discourse with his partner, hoping his unusual eccentricities would give him a free pass. Knowing himself to be an esoteric person and that she was one of few to truly understand him in some way at all - unlike his other colleagues who persisted to call him 'Spooky Mulder.' She was different. Smart, strong-willed but above all else pig-headed in an almost arrogant fashion. But though her mind is clouded by science, under her gruff exterior she had twice the heart of anyone he knew. A heart a lion would be jealous of and courage that the Cowardly Lion himself ventured to the Emerald City for. Yet no matter how intelligent, beautiful or brave she is, she could never get passed what she could see. She profusely refused to look beyond her meager understanding and denying that the truth was truly out there. Or at least a truth that wasn't already in a textbook. Scully had been captured by aliens - in a spaceship, yet continues to deny it and failing to accept the true that has placed itself in her lap. Mulder massages the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, groaning in frustration. The man on the bed moves causing the bed to creak, his eyes slowly fluttering open , Mulder lifts his head.
"Why did you bring me here?" The mans voice is gruff, his charcoal hair is unkempt, matted to his head and stained with crimson specks. "I don't need anyones charity." He sits up in the bed, the cotton covers rolling down his sculpted body. His rock hard chest has a light layer of hair covering it with a small trail descending down past his was it line.
"When I found you, you were seriously injured. I wasn't going to just leave you there, all alone. How did you get there? Why were you in the Waste Land? Whats your name?" Mulders usual curiosity getting the better of him.
"My name and everything else, that is not your business." He gets out of the hospital bed, unashamed of his nudity as Mulder averts his eyes. The man throws on his blood soaked jean shorts and makes for the door before Mulder jumps in front of him. The man growls in a a low, feral tone. "Get out of my way before i move you."
"Are you threatening a federal agent?" The mystery man pays him no attention, tossing across the room and rushes out of the room, down the busy corridor and out of the building.
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