Chapter 9
Cap kept a close eye on "Dr. and Mrs. Dickerson" throughout the drive to the compound. Now that he had them, he wanted to make sure nothing would happen to them. Not for one minute would he underestimate the importance of the two people lying in a drug-induced stupor before him. The Boss had been quite clear on that point.
For just a moment though, he let himself think about the bonus money before forcing himself to concentrate on the matter at hand. (Dani had better have everything ready like I told her, or she's gonna find herself in a world of hurt,) he promised, desperately wishing that he could call and check in on her. "Might as well wish you were twenty years younger," he muttered.
"Sarge," he called out. "How much further?"
"About 45 miles to the ferry," Sarge called back. "I've been doin' the speed limit like you said."
"All right." Cap stared resolutely ahead. He didn't want Sarge to know how nervous he was. There were still so many things that could go wrong, not the least of which was getting pulled over by the police. An unmarked ambulance in the middle of nowhere would be pretty hard to explain.
They made the rest of the trip in silence, without incident. Cap rechecked his prisoners' pulses: his was okay, hers seemed a little fast. With a small frown, he increased the drip rate slightly.
When they arrived at the ferry, Cap finally began to believe this was going to work. "It has to work," he told himself. "I deserve that money. And a little respect." He had worked too hard to lose it now.
Sarge got them safely across to the tiny island and the low-level security facility that the government had formerly used. Five years ago, the government had abandoned it for more high-tech operations. Although the complex was small, the Boss had made plenty of improvements. Cap chose this location because right now, with all other available men searching for the Dickersons, the compound was deserted.
Sarge pulled up to the automated checkpoint and inserted the magnetic passkey. The computer accepted it and automatically opened the gate. The checkpoint was situated between a double run of electrified barbwire, eight feet high and encompassing the complex on three sides. A cliff that looked out over the Atlantic Ocean protected the fourth. He drove through slowly; keeping an eye out for the two trained Dobermans that patrolled the ten-foot wide space between the inner and outer runs. The computer faithfully opened the inner gate and once Sarge was through, closed and locked the gates.
When the ambulance came to a halt outside the Visitor's Quarters, Cap moved quickly. The Visitor's Quarters was actually a three-storied dormitory with twelve living areas, smaller than apartments but larger than a jail cell and just as secure. Each had a bathroom, bedroom and den, sparsely furnished and with no windows and only one steel door. There was also no kitchen; all meals were made and served by Dani.
Sarge came around to the back of the ambulance and opened the door, looking in at Cap expectantly.
"Okay, Sarge, let's get our guests unloaded."
The two men quickly and efficiently settled Mulder and Scully on the bed.
"Take out the IV's, Cap?" Sarge asked.
Cap paused. "Hang on a minute." He stared at Scully, rechecking her pulse. It had been six hours since their capture and it seemed that her heart rate was still a little fast. "Hopefully it pumps faster naturally," he mumbled, unsure, since nothing else seemed amiss.
"What's that, Cap?"
"Nothin'. Give the doc another amp and then take out the IV. I want them out a little while longer." Cap himself gave Scully half an amp of the powerful sedative, letting the IV run wide open to circulate the drug before removing it.
Sarge completed his task and followed Cap out of the room, locking the door on his way out.
Cap double-checked the lock. "Get Dani and have her meet me in the main office. Then I want you to take care of the dogs. You know Dani's too scared to go anywhere near 'em."
"Sure thing, Cap." Sarge hurried off to find Dani with a pang of disappointment. He would rather hear Cap telling the Boss how they'd outsmarted all the other teams and captured the elusive Dr. Dickerson. (Just keep thinkin' about the money. Show me the money.) He laughed at his own joke.
In the Main House, Cap poured himself a straight shot of scotch with hands that trembled slightly. He downed it quickly in an attempt to keep his nervousness at bay. The liquid fire promised to help since it had been over eight hours since he and Sarge had eaten. Even as he poured another shot, his mind automatically reminded him why he was in so much trouble with the Boss. "Hell, I guess damn near killing your own boss would get you in serious trouble no matter what your line of work," he muttered. Oh yeah, he had shot the Boss and he and Sarge had paid dearly.
The fact that there were so few men in the organization had been the only thing that had kept them alive. You screw up once and you count your blessings if you're given a chance to redeem yourself. Cap and Sarge had screwed up once. The Dickersons were their chance for redemption, a chance that was not given but would be taken.
Cap waited several more minutes before picking up the phone, taking another shot of the alcohol. (Careful,) he warned himself. (Courage from a bottle can turn on you on a dime.)
Finally, he grabbed the receiver and punched speed dial. The Boss answered on the second ring.
"Who is this?"
"It's Cap."
"Cap." The voice was cold. "What do you want?"
Cap actually felt a shiver run down his spine. "I got the doc." He was inordinately pleased that he'd kept his
voice from betraying any emotion.
"You got - what - doc?"
Cap swallowed. "Doc - doc Dickerson." He paused for a moment and when there was no response, added, "And his wife."
Silence.
"Where?"
"At his house. I - I had this hunch." (Don't lose it now,) he ordered himself.
"You had a hunch." The Boss sounded incredulous.
"Yeah - that he'd go back to his house. You know, hide in plain site." Cap struggled not to sound smug.
"That he'd play us for fools."
"Yeah - no! No!' Cap cursed himself as every kind of fool. "No - nothing like that." He wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"You weren't assigned to any of the search parties." Now the voice was grim.
"I know. We just wanted to cover all the bases. Make sure that we got him."
"We?"
Cap froze. "Uh - we. Me and Sarge."
The Boss drummed impatient fingers on the desk. "You got just the two of them?"
Cap released the breath he'd been holding. "Yeah."
More silence.
"They're not hurt are they?"
Cap caught the thinly veiled threat. "They put up a hell of a fight, but they ain't hurt. They're both sedated right now."
"Where are you?"
"We're holed up at the island."
"All right. I'll be there in three days, sooner if this storm breaks. Just stay there. Don't call anybody else.
Nobody. Dani's there, right?"
"Yeah," Cap swallowed.
"Let the good doctor stew. Don't have any contact with them until I get there. Let Dani be the only one to go anywhere near them. Is that understood?"
Cap gulped. "Understood." It was made perfectly clear to him that he was still on the Boss' shit list and Dani was the only trustworthy one in the Boss' eyes. The Boss was ruthless, no doubt about it.
When he realized that he'd been hung up on, Cap closed his eyes, took several deep breaths and managed to keep his anger in check. He had to stay in control. It was all coming together.
After several seconds, he reached over for the bottle of scotch and caught sight of Dani staring at him blankly. Startled by her totally silent entrance, he dropped the scotch. The bottle shattered on impact, sending the tiny shards of glass flying to land in the puddle of amber liquid.
"Shit!" Cap swore as he carefully stepped back from the debris, wondering how long the girl had been standing there. He stormed over to her, intending to take out his embarrassment on her and hoping to scare her for once. As usual, she held her ground without flinching or even blinking. Cap had yet to figure out if she was truly unafraid or too stupid to know the danger. He grabbed Dani by the front of her blouse and dragged her over to the desk. Dani went willingly enough and still her expression and her eyes remained vacant.
Cap huffed in frustration as he began writing. Yelling at Dani was an exercise in futility - she was deaf, did not speak and did not read lips. The Boss used her as a kind of housekeeper on the island and gave her free reign of the place but forbade her from ever leaving. Dani never seemed to mind. In fact, Cap had never seen any real emotion on the young woman's face. She was almost like a robot and it gave him the creeps. Cap had asked the Boss about Dani once, but had not received any information other than Dani was special and untouchable.
As he continued writing down Dani's instructions, he wished as he did every day, that Dani could read lips.
Writing everything down was a pain in the ass. Finally he shoved the paper into her hands and stormed off. He was tired and he was going to bed.
Dani waited until Cap was gone before smoothing out the paper and reading its contents:
Dr. & Mrs. Dickerson in VQ. They are VIP. Feed them. Boss here-3 days. Clean up mess in here.
Dani threw away the instructions and went to get a broom.
Chapter 10
Darkness. Through the darkness, an intense throbbing behind his eyes, a horrible pulsating pain that caused him to moan softly. Vaguely, he remembered fighting with a man who had called Dr. Dickerson. What had happened next was a blur. The blinding pain stole his concentration and he moaned again. Without opening his eyes, he knew that he was lying on a bed and that someone was lying next to him. Hesitantly, his eyes still closed, he reached out and his hand touched the body lying an arm's length away.
Scully. (Thank God,) he thought as he managed to push past the incredible agony and pull himself closer to her and slide one arm under her shoulders. Using what little strength he had left, he drew her even closer, pillowing her head on his chest and locking his arms around her, before succumbing to the lingering effects of the drug.
Chapter 11
Sometime later, Mulder again regained consciousness, and this time, he was much more lucid. He still had a nagging headache, but the pain was tolerable, so he pushed on. He discovered that his right arm was completely numb and the momentary fear he felt dissipated when he realized it was because Scully was on top of it. With her body lying almost completely on top of his, he could feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest.
Still a little groggy, Mulder couldn't help but smile. Not the way he had pictured being in bed with Scully, but for just a few precious minutes he intended to enjoy the experience. He couldn't stop himself if he tried to anyway. This was like a dream come true. (Well, kind of.)
(Man, is it hot in here.) He thought disjointedly, as he struggled to sit up, a job made more difficult because his joints were so incredibly stiff and sore. Gently he extricated himself from under Scully and rolled her over to get a better look at her and try to determine why she hadn't yet awakened.
"Oh shit!" He cried, his voice almost unrecognizable to his own ears. Now he was wide-awake. He realized in a split second that it wasn't "hot in here", but that Scully, herself, was hot! With hands that shook, he brushed back the hair that was sticking to her face and realized that she was burning up with fever.
"Scully! Scully, please, please wake up," he pleaded desperately. Any discomfort he had been experiencing was instantly forgotten. Quickly he looked around for anything that he could use. There didn't seem to be much. With a light shining from an adjoining room as the only illumination, he saw the room they were in contained a bed, and two end tables, each with a lamp but no phone.
Loath to leave her side, he went to the lighted room, which turned out to be a bathroom. Fighting the panic that threatened to consume him, he located washcloths and towels. The medicine cabinet contained toiletries but no medications so he grabbed a washcloth and soaked it in cold water. It was then that he caught sight of the needle puncture in the bend of his right arm.
"Shit!" he swore again. They'd been drugged!
Racing back to Scully, he found an identical mark in the bend of her left arm. He also noticed that she seemed to be having difficulty breathing and on a hunch, propped her up on both pillows so that she was reclining at a forty-five-degree angle. For how long, he couldn't say, but over and over he tenderly sponged her arms, her neck and her face, calling to her softly and going back every couple of minutes to rinse the cloth in cold water after her increased body heat had neutralized the chill.
At last, she seemed to be improving, even though she had yet to regain consciousness. Mulder desperately tried to figure out what was going on. (Please, don't let them have overdosed her,) he begged silently to whoever had kidnapped them, apparently because they thought that they were the Dickersons.
"Dammit!' He hissed. He realized that he had been trying to rouse Scully by calling her by name. If this place was bugged, they were sunk. (Too late now,) he thought helplessly. His main focus now was to find out what was wrong with Scully. Was it because of the drug?
"But how?" He asked himself. He wasn't a doctor but he'd never heard of a drug - causing - a fever.
"Come on, Scully, help me out here," he pleaded, even as he continued to sponge her down. "You know I can't do this on my own."
A sudden scraping sound caused his heart to leap in his throat. Looking over he realized that there was another room off of this one, besides the bathroom. With a quick glance back at Scully, he cautiously went to investigate.
He found himself in another room, also without windows. He caught sight of a switch and immediately flicked it on. The room held a small dining table, two chairs and a couch. The only way out was a heavy steel door, with a sliding food carrier. That was what he'd heard: a tray with two plates of food and a thermos had been pushed in.
Mulder took the tray off and got as close as he could to the opening. "Hey! Hey, is anybody out there? Hey, we need help! She's sick!" Mulder stopped yelling for a moment. He didn't know if anyone out there knew that he'd used Scully's name, but decided not to risk it. "My wife is sick!" He hollered. "She needs a doctor!"
When no one returned after several minutes, Mulder gave up. Picking up the tray of food, he stepped into the bedroom, and proceeded to almost drop it when he saw that Scully was awake.
"Wife?" She mouthed silently, both eyebrows up.
For a minute, Mulder was torn between relief that Scully had regained consciousness and seemed okay, total embarrassment at having been overheard referring to her as his wife and fear that he was about to spill the food.
Scully bit her lip in a desperate attempt to keep from laughing aloud at the look on her partner's face as he
juggled the tray. She just couldn't help it since the expression was so comical.
"Very funny," Mulder whispered, trying to regain his dignity. He placed the tray down on the nearest table without further mishap, then sat down on the bed next to her.
"Nice of you to join me," he quipped. "I was beginning to think you were going to sleep all day."
"What day is it?" Scully asked worriedly.
Mulder glanced down at his watch, startled that he hadn't checked before. "Saturday. 2:30. I think in the afternoon; there aren't any windows in this place."
Scully brought both her hands to her head; rubbing her temples and squeezing to try and relieve the shooting pains.
Mulder caught her pained expression. He reached out his hand and gently placed it on her forehead. Her skin was clammy and hot, but the fever didn't seem any higher than before. There was a thermos on the tray and he poured a glass, sniffing the contents carefully. Cautiously he took a small sip. Lemonade. Seemed okay. They'd have to chance it. "I'm hoping it's safe to drink. Do you want to try?"
Eagerly Scully nodded and tried to push herself further up in bed, and was dismayed that she could barely lift her head, much less her arms. Without a word, Mulder slid his arm under her and pulled her up, and then he scooted around so that she could lean against him. When the glass touched her lips, it was all she could do not to gulp down the entire contents of the glass of the tart liquid. Dimly she decided that she didn't care if it was tainted or not - it was too delicious and cool to ignore.
"Okay?" Mulder asked.
Scully nodded again, panting softly. "You should try some."
"I will. Why don't you have a little more, though?" Mulder returned the glass to her lips.
Scully didn't argue, and finished the glass then tried to catch her breath while Mulder poured a glassful for himself.
"I guess that we need to talk." Mulder said when he was done.
Scully agreed and pulled herself forward slightly. It seemed to help her breathing and the dreadful ache in her chest.
"But before we talk about where we are and why we're here," Mulder said, "I'm going to go over every square inch of this place and see if I can see any listening devices. While I do that, you just lie there and rest. No arguments."
Scully sighed in resignation and watched him work; efficiently and meticulously. When he was done, he returned to her side and sat down, pronouncing the room bug free as far as he could tell.
Mulder took a hold of Scully's left arm and showed her where the needle had been inserted. "We were given some kind of drug by our captors."
Scully stared up at him, horror contorting her features. "Oh God, it must have been after we were knocked out in the fight."
Mulder was pleased that she remembered that. He didn't want to add "head injury" to the list of things to worry about. "Yeah, probably. But I don't think that's the reason you're burning up with fever and having trouble breathing, is it?" He tried without success to keep the dread out of his voice.
Scully licked her lips and opened her mouth to answer when they heard the scraping of the sliding food carrier in the other room.
Instantly Mulder was on his feet and out the door. He stared at the contents of the carrier in complete surprise. A bottle of Motrin. Dumbstruck, he picked it up and returned to the bedroom. Scully was sitting straight up in bed, her eyes wide.
"What is it?" She asked weakly.
Hearing the effort in her voice, he quickly reassured her. "I guess that somebody heard me." He showed her the bottle and opened it up. Pouring several tablets into his hand, he let her examine them.
Scully sighed. "I think that they're really Motrin."
"So, will that help?" Mulder asked hopefully.
Relief lit up her face and she grinned. "Yep, just what the doctor ordered."
Mulder poured out the last of the lemonade and Scully swallowed three of the pills, feeling optimistic for the first time since waking up.
Mulder silently took the glass from Scully's hands. The fact that they trembled slightly did not go unnoticed and he stared closely at his partner lying so very still, her face pale and drawn with pain, barely able to keep her eyes open and it made him want to cry.
"Mulder," Scully said quietly, finally breaking the tense silence. "Please don't look at me like that." She touched his face, wanting to smooth away the deep unhappy creases in his forehead.
Mulder winced at his transparency. "Sorry, Scully." When he felt her hand clasp his, he tightened his grasp in response. For just a moment, he let his thumb caress the top of her hand, marveling at how silky soft the skin was.
Scully hated to spoil the moment, but Mulder had to be told the truth. There was no way that she could deny or downplay her condition and any plans that they made would have to be made with that fact in mind. She swallowed hard, then looked up at him and forced herself to speak.
"Mulder, I believe I have pericarditis." Scully regretted the bluntness, but didn't know how to tell him any other way.
"What!" He was not prepared for such an admission and while he wasn't exactly sure what pericarditis was, it sure didn't sound promising. He had just about convinced himself that Scully just had a bad case of the flu. His body tensed instinctively and realizing that he was close to crushing Scully's hand, he fought down his wave of panic and eased up on his grip.
Scully took a deep breath, regretting it instantly. "It's an inflammation of the sac that encapsulates the heart.
At first I thought it was just the muscles in my chest being sore after...after..." she stumbled and could not say it. She looked up at Mulder helplessly.
(After Naciemento nearly ripped out your heart,) Mulder silently filled in and nodded his understanding.
Scully went on. "But the fever and the shortness of breath tell me differently."
Mulder simply stared at her, feeling like an abyss had opened up beneath him. He shuddered and closed his eyes, wanting to hide his dismay. "What can I do?" He asked. The sensation of his own heart being crushed was nearly overwhelming.
"Well, the Motrin is actually a good thing and it will help the fever and pain since it's an anti-inflammatory drug." She paused to catch her breath, wincing in obvious discomfort. "Also, I need to keep my pulse as low as possible in order to prevent the sac from filling up any faster than it already is."
"In other words, you should just lie there, right?" Mulder asked, clinging to humor in hopes of conquering his fear. His eyes flashed mischievously. "Does that mean that I get to wait on you hand and foot?"
Scully's lips quirked. She knew exactly what Mulder was thinking, as always. "Yes, yes it does." Catching the comical leer on his face, she added, "But I wouldn't get too happy about that."
"Why not?" Mulder said plaintively. "Come on Scully, you said it yourself: keep your heart rate down. I can do everything for you and you don't have to lift a finger."
There went that eyebrow. "Everything, Mulder?"
Mulder leaned in close. "Everything, Scully," he whispered seductively at her ear.
"Oh, that will help my heart rate." Scully said, managing a smile that lifted Mulder's spirits.
Scully's cheeks had flushed a bright red that Mulder knew was only partially due to fever. Contrite, he backed off. "I'm sorry, Scully. You relax, I'll behave. What else?"
Scully gazed up at him. "This is going to be awkward," she said as a self-conscious smile tugging at her lips.
Mulder's brow furrowed. "What is?"
"I love you. I've loved you for so very long, now," she said, her voice soft, almost shy, her eyes downcast.
Still holding her hand, Mulder pulled it to his lips. "I love you, too."
"This isn't exactly how I planned it." Scully stated ruefully.
Mulder was really curious now. (Planned? It? What 'it'?) Suddenly it hit him. (Whoa - it being the next stage of their relationship? Just how long - )
"Mulder, don't look at me like that. It's not what you think."
"And just what is it that I'm thinking?"
"Mulder," she groaned softly. "You're not making this easy for me."
Refusing to let go of her hand, he raised his other, palm up and shrugged his shoulders. "Help me out here, Scully. I think I'm really lost."
Scully sighed. All she wanted was to lie back and rest, but this was too important. Ignoring the throbbing in her head, she tried to make Mulder understand. "No matter how we tell ourselves otherwise; our relationship - is - going to change. Of course, I believe it is for the better," she quickly added.
Mulder grinned, but remained silent, holding Scully's hand like a lifeline, caressing it with his thumb.
"This transformation will take time, though, at least for me. Just because we've seen each other naked, doesn't mean I'm instantly going to feel comfortable undressing in front of you." Again, Scully regretted her bluntness, but she wasn't strong enough to keep up this conversation much longer and she desperately needed Mulder's understanding. "It's the little, day to day things outside of work that will take some getting used to also. Except when we went undercover at the Falls of Arcadia, there was always a comfort zone mandated by our job. Professionalism."
"Oh, is that what that green face goo you wore was - a comfort zone?" Mulder teased.
"In a way, yes. But I do use that mask." Scully retorted good-naturedly. "Just not to sleep in."
Mulder laughed, but then grew quiet, contemplating what his partner had said and acknowledging the validity. She was right, of course. It wouldn't be right to rush through this.
"Just be patient with me, Mulder," she whispered.
"Always," he vowed. "Now, why don't you get some sleep? I think we've done enough talking and you're exhausted."
Scully nodded.
"I'm just going to put this tray in the other room," he told her as he put the thermos on the tray and carried everything out to the other room except for two oranges that he placed on the bedside table.
Scully leaned back, relieved that the Motrin had kicked in, reducing her temperature to a more tolerable level. The dreadful ache in her chest had also diminished somewhat. As tired as she was though, sleep threatened to elude her in light of their imprisonment.
Worse, was the complete helplessness that enveloped her like a net. She couldn't escape; hell, she couldn't even fight back in this condition and that scared her as much as angered her. She was a trained FBI agent and right now she was completely dependent on her partner. The lack of control was terrifying.
They seemed to be in a holding pattern for now, though; left alone by their captors. She knew that she should use this time to try and regain her strength, to be ready in case an escape opportunity presented itself. But she was afraid. She couldn't hide it from herself, no matter how hard she tried. She was afraid.
Suddenly, she remembered her drive down to the Dickerson's and the promise she had made to herself. She was not going to fight IT anymore. Was this part of IT? Maybe it was.
Maybe she needed to stop fighting Mulder's help as well as his love. Let go and trust that Mulder would take care of her, just as she would take care of Mulder if their positions were reversed. She wouldn't think less of Mulder if he were the one who was sick. She let herself believe that the opposite was true, also.
(No more fighting,) she admonished herself. (Save your strength for more important matters.) She sighed quietly.
Mulder finished checking the heavy steel door, unable to see any way out. He was trying to give Scully some time to go to sleep and as such, was surprised to find her still awake upon his return. He moved to sit back down beside her and tenderly stroked her damp cheek.
"Hey, why haven't you gone to sleep yet?" he asked worriedly. "Are you okay?"
Scully nodded, unable to speak, overwhelmed all over again by her love for this man as she reveled in his touch. She couldn't change instantly, but she was now ready to take a step. She found her voice at last. "Would - would you lie down with me?" she asked demurely.
Mulder paused a beat before replying. "Scully - are you coming on to me?" he asked hopefully, a grin lighting up his face.
"Yes, yes I am," she replied, happy that he didn't think she was asking for help, despite her earlier thoughts.
Mulder leaned in to kiss her. He'd let her think that he misunderstood her request. He knew all too well how she abhorred showing any signs of weakness and the fact that she trusted him to ask for comfort, in her own roundabout way, caused his heart to melt. It would take time, he knew, for her to feel totally at ease in this new aspect of their relationship. And he was determined to give her all the time she needed. He waited for her to get comfortable, and then carefully situated himself alongside her as she pressed against his body.
Lovingly, he draped one arm around her and felt her gradually relax until she finally slipped off to sleep, comforted by his strength and the trust she knew she could place in him. He could tell that her rate of breathing was faster than normal and she was still febrile, but at least she seemed a little more comfortable and for that he was grateful.
Chapter 12
Mulder wasn't aware that he'd even gone to sleep until something jerked him awake. He felt disoriented in the strange room, the only light coming from the bathroom, the door partially ajar. A glance at his watch showed it was now 9:45, Saturday night, he assumed. He heard movement in the bathroom, and water running - Scully. Realizing that he hadn't felt her get out of bed didn't upset him nearly as much as the fact that she'd gotten up at all. Then he chastised himself: it's just the bathroom. It's not like she went for a run and besides, there's nothing you could do for her in there.
(Well, if she was taking a bath there was,) he mused, but that was obviously not the case. It sounded more like she was brushing her teeth, right now. But how long had she been in there?
He reached over and turned on the bedside lamp; thinking that he really should have eaten earlier. He picked up one of the oranges he'd saved and began peeling it when Scully came to the doorway.
Feeling her eyes on him, Mulder looked up to see her smiling sweetly over at him.
"Hungry, Mulder?" she asked.
"Yeah." He stared at her closely and saw the very second that the pain hit her. He heard her quietly gasp as her hands clutched at her chest and the color drained from her face and without a word, he vaulted from the bed. Scully's eyes closed as she crumpled soundlessly right into Mulder's open arms, instinctively knowing without a doubt that he'd be there to catch her.
Frantic, he lifted her and clutching her closely, carried her back to the bed. "Scully?" His eyes searched her face, willing her to be all right.
Scully, her face ashen, finally opened her eyes. "Mulder -I -" She couldn't get the words out.
"Sssshhh - don't try and talk," he admonished her gently. He went to the bathroom to soak the washrag and placed it on her forehead, smoothing her hair back.
"It's getting worse," she said breathlessly.
Mulder grunted softly. Like he couldn't tell. "So, does that mean that you won't get up again without my help?" He was smiling to temper the reproach in his voice.
Guilt clouded her features. "I'm sorry," she whispered, stricken. "It was only the bathroom."
"I know. I'm not mad. I'd have a hard time too, if I was in your shoes, you know." He handed her the orange slices. "Here, take these. Can I get you some of the Motrin?"
"How long has it been?" Her voice trembled slightly.
"Over six hours."
Scully nodded weakly.
Mulder went to the living room to get the pills and saw to his relief that another tray had been delivered. It was a little disconcerting, though. He wasn't entirely convinced that they weren't being watched somehow.
Setting the tray down, he unwrapped one of the sandwiches and handed half to Scully. She accepted it, knowing that she couldn't keep taking Motrin on an empty stomach without causing more problems. She didn't think that she could handle any more problems at this point but she had still had to literally force down each bite.
Mulder checked the refilled thermos and found apple juice. He poured a glass for each of them and handed Scully three Motrin.
She ate slowly, but he was pleased to see her eat, even though he could tell that she wasn't really hungry. She only managed half of the sandwich but took both oranges as he refilled her glass.
"Enough, Mulder," Scully announced finally. "I can't handle another bite."
"No problem. Has the medicine started working yet?"
"Yeah," she rubbed her chest wall absently. "How many tablets are left?"
"Twenty-seven," he replied after counting. "Plenty."
Scully nodded. "Every six hours."
She watched as Mulder cleaned up after their meal and felt totally helpless. "Mulder, I'm getting a little sick of just lying in this bed. Can we go sit in the other room and maybe talk a little?"
"Sure, Scully. On one condition." he stated matter of factly.
She gave him the LOOK and he prepared himself for battle.
"You're going to have to let me carry you out there. We can't afford another episode like you just had."
Scully's eyes widened in astonishment, but Mulder didn't give her a chance to speak. "You know that. Tell me you know that."
The seconds ticked silently by until she finally huffed, her shoulders sagged in resignation. This is turning out to be a hell of a lot more difficult than she originally thought it'd be.
Mulder leaned in. "You know, Scully, if being in my arms bothers you that much..." he let the words fall away in mock despair.
Scully jerked her gaze up to his face. "That's not it and I - know - that you know it."
"So, you - do - want to be in my arms." He let his face light up.
"Well - yes - but - I - I mean -" Scully was floundering.
Mulder smiled smugly at Scully's inability to form a complete sentence. (A flustered Scully was really quite endearing,) he noted with pleasure.
"Mulder," she took a calming breath and couldn't help but smile. "I - told - you that this was going to be awkward."
"I know, Scully. I do. Now here," Gently he reached beneath her and as he stood, she automatically wrapped her arms around his neck.
He took two steps towards the other room before stopping. "Well?"
Scully's brow furrowed. "Well, what?"
"Well, how is it? Not too bad?"
He looked at her so seriously that she had to clasp a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing aloud. She then leaned her head close to his ear and whispered. "I really think that I could get used to this." She kissed his cheek.
Mulder hugged her. "Good, 'cause that's my plan."
Scully positively beamed.
Chapter 13
Mulder stepped into the living room and gently set Scully on the couch. "Before you get too comfortable, let me go get a pillow."
Scully smiled up at him lovingly, berating herself for every time she had spurned Mulder's "hovering" in the past.
When he returned, he spread the blanket over her and placed the pillow behind her back. She scooted around so that her feet were on the couch, tucking her knees up and wrapping her arms around them.
Mulder settled on the opposite end and turned sideways also so that they were facing each other. He marveled at how very small she looked, huddled over with the blanket pulled closely around her.
"I guess that we should review the facts as we know them," he began.
Scully looked at him expectantly, encouraging him with her eyes to do the talking. He got the message and continued.
"Friday night, you and I are taken by two men who think that we're Dr. and Mrs. Theodore Dickerson, who, by the way, have just left town suddenly and according to Mrs. Dickerson, unexpectedly."
"Right."
Mulder went on. "Since being brought here, no one has spoken to us, but we've been fed and whether they heard me yelling or what, know that you're sick and brought Motrin. A medication that has helped some."
Scully nodded.
Mulder huffed softly, forcing himself to remain calm and focused. "Okay, what do we know about the Dickersons?"
Scully took a breath to collect her thoughts. "Mom and Nancy have been best friends since the fifth grade and she's Bill's godmother."
Mulder bit back the groan. (Not good,) he thought briefly. (Please don't let Mrs. Scully get hurt anymore by this.)
Scully went on, unaware of Mulder's dismay. "Nancy's first husband died about 10 years ago and Nancy was absolutely devastated; it just about killed her. Mom helped her through it, and encouraged Nancy to get out. Nancy used the fortune her husband left her and became an active philanthropist, which is how she met Ted. They married very quickly and suddenly she is funding his research and nothing else."
"Wait - when did she marry Ted?" Mulder broke in.
Scully paused to think. "Well, I know that I missed the wedding, but why - ?" She struggled to trigger her memory until at last it came to her.
Her face fell.
"What is it, Scully?" Mulder leaned forward in concern.
"She got married while I was - when I was - taken..."
Mulder looked at her in sympathy. "Sorry, Scully."
"It's okay," she said quietly. "Really."
Mulder tried to steer the conversation away from that time period. "Did you ever meet Ted?"
Scully shook her head, her expression darkened. "According to Mom, after the wedding they became recluses. She was a little suspicious that Ted used Nancy just for her money to fund his research, but she didn't know what the research was; just that he's a geneticist."
Mulder was all ears. "Scully, before I left my place Friday, I got a call from Byers. He was all excited about a scientific breakthrough on the God Module made by Dr. Theodore Dickerson."
"What!" she exclaimed incredulously. "Are you sure it's the same man?"
"I don't know for sure." Mulder stated. "Byers gave me an address and phone number for his lab in New Jersey."
Scully slumped back. "Then it's probably the same person." She told him morosely. "What does all this mean?"
"Scully, I'm concerned by the fact that this guy does research on the God Module, Gibson Praise is still missing and now a breakthrough is made but the scientist takes off with his wife while someone who obviously knows of his work is after him."
Scully was shocked into silence, her eyes impossibly wide as she contemplated the unimaginable. "Gibson," she breathed, biting back tears of horror. "Please - no."
"What if the Consortium is after Dr. Dickerson?" Mulder mused. "How long before they realize that they got the wrong person? And then what? And we don't know for sure if this Dr. Dickerson is really a good guy or some mad scientist."
"Oh God, Mulder, what are we going to do?" Scully asked fearfully.
Mulder didn't have a good answer at this point.
Chapter 14
By Saturday night, Walter Skinner thought that he had accumulated all the pieces of the puzzle. (Almost all,) he amended. The most important one of all was still eluding him: the location of Agents Mulder and Scully.
The first piece had been a call from a sheriff who had been relayed through a FBI field office. The sheriff told him that construction workers who were doing renovations on the house had called him out to the home of Dr. Theodore Dickerson.
"The guys showed up for work this morning and when no one answered the door, they got concerned - especially with two cars in the driveway. They said that the front door was unlocked and there had been some kind of struggle in the living room. That's when they called me in. My men are going over the place, but haven't come up with anything except a burned dinner in the oven - which was still on by the way. It's a damn miracle that the house didn't burn down. Anyway, when I got ID back on the cars, I got on the phone to the FBI and they transferred me to you."
Skinner had thanked him and promised to send agents out to help investigate. After assigning agents to the case, he had reluctantly taken the next step and called Maggie Scully.
"Oh God," Maggie said softly, recognizing his voice and his tone.
Skinner admired her strength as she told him why Dana had been at the Dickerson's without falling to pieces. He didn't have children of his own and couldn't begin to imagine being a parent to Scully, or Mulder for that matter, after everything those two had been through. It was hard enough being their superior. And friend? Sometimes he wondered if he really was considered their friend.
"I promise you, Mrs. Scully, I'm doing everything in my power to locate them."
"I know you are," she said softly, biting back tears. "Please, keep me informed of any progress."
"I will." Skinner stared at the wall, fist tightly around the phone he had just hung up. Maybe he - did - know what it was like.
The phone rang, jolting him from his musings. "Skinner."
"Director Skinner, you don't know me, but I'm a friend of Fox Mulder."
"What can I do for you?" Skinner's tone grew wary.
"I understand that Agents Mulder and Scully are missing and I have some information that I hope will help find them."
(Who - is - this guy?) Skinner thought. "What kind of information?"
"Are you aware that Dr. Theodore Dickerson is a scientist who has been studying the God Module? I assume that you know what that is."
Skinner felt his mouth go dry. "Of course I do," he snapped.
The caller went on, unperturbed. "Dr. Dickerson has made some kind of scientific breakthrough, the specifics of which I have as yet been unable to ascertain. I gave this information to Mulder, knowing of his interest. I hope that by telling you, it will help to locate him."
"Listen - how did you get this information -"
The caller hung up on him.
Skinner immediately started making calls.
Byers carefully wiped down the phone booth. If the call was traced, he didn't want to leave any sign that he'd ever been there. He headed back home, wondering what Langly and Frohike would do if they knew he had enlisted Skinner's help to locate Mulder and Scully.
Chapter 15
Saturday evening in the Main House, Cap lay dozing on the couch, a half-empty bottle of scotch an arm's length away, and an empty glass on the floor beside it. The TV had been left on with the sound turned all the way down.
Sarge burst in, a thin sheen of perspiration covering his face, and ran straight to the couch. Roughly he shook Cap awake.
"Cap - Cap wake up!"
"Huh - wha -" Cap grunted incoherently as he struggled to sit up and gather his wits about him. The liquor, however, had managed to muddle his brain, coat his mouth and glue his eyes shut quite effectively. "Take it easy, man. What's the hell's the matter with you?"
"Cap - come on - wake up. The Boss just pulled into the compound." Sarge warned urgently.
That was the splash of cold water that Cap needed to get going. Like a flash, he was on his feet, carefully scooting the bottle and glass under the couch. He went to the window and watched the Ford Explorer move slowly past the Main House and go directly to the Visitors' Quarters. Cap's expression immediately darkened.
"Take a breather, Sarge," he told him. He watched the Boss exit the vehicle. "Off to see Dani first," he muttered bitterly.
Sarge stepped up and looked over Cap's shoulder.
"Got to make sure ol' Cap and Sarge didn't screw up and hurt the good doc." Cap continued to curse under his breath.
"Should we wait here?" Sarge asked hesitantly. When Cap was in this kind of mood, anything could set him off.
"Yeah. Dani can take care of the Boss." Cap huffed before returning to the couch. He grabbed the remote, searching until he found a baseball game and turned up the volume. He resisted the urge to retrieve the scotch. He didn't have a death wish, after all.
Sarge looked over uneasily, unsure what to do. Finally he decided to join Cap and watch the game.
Meanwhile, Dani was standing at the door to greet the Boss, extending the ever-present pad and pen. The Boss took them without looking and went directly to the bank of monitors that lined one wall. Each of the rooms in VQ had a tiny camera but only one was currently in use and that was the one the Boss focused on.
The Boss had to keep from screaming aloud.
(The fools! Idiots!) Vile epithets poured from lips thin with rage.
Dani stood watching, without expression as the Boss' rage filled the room. She watched a clenched fist pound the console and did not blink.
The Boss looked over at Dani, cheeks red, eyes blazing then began writing. The pen flew across the paper.
Dani kept her face neutral as she watched the Boss' lips moving and when the note was completed, the Boss simply stormed out.
Dani smiled. Cap and Sarge had made their final mistake and it would ultimately turn out to be fatal for them. She picked up the note.
Those 2 aren't the Dickersons.
Dani's smile broadened. She, of course, was aware of that little tidbit of information.
Stay here and await further instructions.
Dani sat down again in front of the monitor. She was aware now of what the Boss had planned for Mulder and Scully. The question was what to do about it. She stared at the FBI agents in the living room. Mulder had positioned himself behind Scully and had enveloped her in his arms.
Dani sighed in relief. She had been worried earlier, before the Boss' arrival that Mulder would hurt himself as he had finally vented his rage at their captivity, nearly demolishing the rooms looking for an escape. Scully had shown remarkable restraint as she watched, her face unknowingly mirroring Dani's concerned countenance. When Mulder had at last admitted defeat, she had simply held out her hand, beckoning him over.
Dani had watched as Mulder let his shoulders slump, dejected and fatigued and trying to catch his breath. He had taken Scully's hand, kissed it, and then went to take a quick shower. Hating that he'd had to put on the same clothes he'd been wearing before was evident to Dani by the expression of distaste on his face. He'd then joined Scully on the couch and that tableau had been what had set the Boss into a rage.
Dani settled down to wait.
Cap and Sarge both started violently when they heard the front door slam shut. They barely had time to jump to their feet and turn off the TV before the Boss stormed in.
Neither one of them was prepared for the fury that emanated from the Boss like heat from the sun.
Sarge shrank back in reflex when the Boss' eyes found him and locked on. "Go to VQ, pump in the gas, knock them both out and put the woman in a different room." The order was spoken with a voice so low, so quiet, and so dangerous that Sarge actually shuddered and felt the blood drain from his face.
The Boss' rage-filled eyes transfixed him like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. When he continued to just stand there, the Boss instantly and smoothly whipped out a Glock and pointed it at his head.
"Now!"
At the bark, Sarge took off like a shot, without looking back, expecting to feel the bullet any second.
(Something's wrong!) His terrified mind kept repeating and he began to wonder if he shouldn't just take off after doing what the Boss wanted. He was pretty sure at this point that no bonus money was forthcoming and he wasn't prepared to die. He made it to the supply room and got the tank and tubing and went to work.
Chapter 16
The Boss waited until Sarge was gone before taking a deep breath and turning to Cap and pointed the Glock at him with a steady hand. Dark eyes glared menacingly at Cap's shocked face and he instinctively raised his hands in a defensive posture, struggling mightily to understand what was going on. (What had gone wrong?)
"Is - is the doc okay?" he asked fearfully and hating that he showed fear.
"I wouldn't know," the Boss replied with a voice that dripped venom.
Cap shook his head. This wasn't right. "I don't understand. Didn't you just go to VQ?"
(Wrong thing to say,) his brain informed him when the Boss snapped and he found himself stumbling backwards. The Boss had pushed him with a strength augmented by pure rage and Cap fell over an end table, landing with a bone-jarring thud. He grunted in pain and immediately tasted blood after biting his tongue. Wincing, he turned his head to the side and spat out a mouthful of blood-tinged saliva. When he turned back to the Boss, he saw that the Glock was now inches from his face.
"You worthless piece of shit." the Boss hissed furiously. "You two jerks did not capture Dr. Dickerson!"
"What!" It was the only word he could get out, his tongue rapidly swelling and interfering with his speech.
The Boss kicked out, connecting with Cap's thigh. The terrified man moaned and grabbed his leg.
"You heard me. You managed to capture two FBI agents!"
"What?" Cap repeated stupidly, shaking his head and trying to get some kind of handle on his pain and confusion. (That couldn't be right. This wasn't the way it was supposed to happen.) He was supposed to be home free. What had gone wrong?
"Next time, I suggest that you get pictures instead of just addresses, you asshole!" The icy disdain in the voice melted into a blood-curdling sneer. "Oh - but wait. There won't - be - a next time, now will there?"
Cap's eyes widened in mortal fear.
They were still open when the bullets entered his brain.
Death was instant. His brain was gone. The only mercy the Boss allowed.
The Boss went to the window to watch for Sarge. Now, all that was left was to wait for the man to separate Mulder and Scully. This could still work out. The other team members thankfully were continuing to search for Dr. Dickerson and with Mulder here, plans could be stepped up. Scully was a mere annoyance that was about to be eliminated.
A feral smile touched the Boss' lips. Fox Mulder would never know what hit him.
Chapter 17
Dani activated the monitor to the room adjacent to Mulder and Scully's, watching Sarge set up his equipment. He had already closed the vents and soon he was piping in the gas that would ensure the prisoners' cooperation. He waited a full half-hour before turning of the gas, donning a gas mask and entering the room, going directly to the couch.
He stood over the two people he had believed would be his salvation and the answer to all his prayers and wondered, not for the first time, what had gone so wrong. With a shake of his head, he went to work. (I got to quit screwing around and just get the hell out of here,) he reminded himself. No time for recriminations now.
Despite their unconscious state, Sarge moved with stealth, noting the man's protectiveness in his embrace. Very slowly, he moved first one, then the other of Mulder's arms away from Scully's torso. Mulder's breathing remained quiet and he did not stir at all. Not even when Sarge slid his arms under Scully's knees and shoulders and lifted her up. Scully, too, remained oblivious as she was taken away from her partner while Dani watched it all and made final plans of her own.
Sarge placed Scully in a cell two doors down from Mulder, unaware that Dani was watching his every move. He made sure that Scully's pulse and breathing was steady and that the door was securely locked before going to double-check on Mulder. Breathing a sigh of relief, he quickly ran to his own quarters
Dani peeked out her window and caught sight of the Boss, standing on the second story balcony of the Main House. She went back to the monitors in time to see Sarge driving off in the unmarked ambulance, the only other vehicle besides the Boss' Explorer. Dani was not surprised that the Boss let him go. Sarge was not a real danger to the Boss' operation and he would be easy to track down. Dani had no doubt that the Sarge was as good as dead. All it would take was one phone call.
Chapter 18
Even before he opened his eyes, Mulder knew that something was different - wrong. Terribly wrong. Keeping his eyes closed and his breathing regular, he lay very still and tried to figure out what it was. First of all, his head seemed a little fuzzy, he felt a little hungover and like he hadn't eaten in days. As far as he could tell, he was still on the couch but Scully had definitely moved. He distinctly remembered that she had been lying alongside him and now she seemed to be sitting on the floor, resting her head on his chest.
(Maybe that's it.) He reassured himself. (She had gotten up without waking him again and when she returned had sat on the floor instead of the couch.)
His breath caught in his throat. (No. That wasn't possible. Dana Scully wasn't tall enough to pull that move off.)
His eyes flew open and he found himself staring at black hair fanned out across his shirt.
"Shit!" he cried out in disgust, scrambling back off the couch with as much gusto as if he'd found a rattlesnake coiled up on top of him.
The owner of the black hair looked up at him.
And smiled.
"Fox."