Okay. There is no daggon excuse for me not posting this earlier. I just...forgot. Sorry, y'all. My bad. Anywho, this is still rated PG-13 for a friggin bad word. The dirty-dirty comes soon. Hang in there, smut fans. You'll get a nice dosage. I'll keep this brief but I must say that I have to send out a big, humungo-jumbo shout-out to Ava. She listend to me ramble on and on until I got a good enough handle on "Bright Side." I am now free to work on other things. To some extent, at least.
Rating: PG-13 for bad f-bomb and dead people.
Spoilers: Noooot really.
Any other things?: Just a couple chapters left.
"Going somewhere? I think not!" He exploded, grabbing Scully by the arm and yanking her to her feet. Wobbly she stood next to him, the gun pressed to her back. "Move and I'll kill her," he warned Mulder. "Melinda!" The madman screamed.
His wife hurried through the doorway, caught off guard by what she saw.
"Come here Melinda," he beckoned.
Melinda approached, hesitantly. She stood eye to eye with him.
"Help me get her back to the table."
Melinda turned to take Scully from him and was unprepared for the crashing blow as his fist connected with her cheekbone. She fell at his feet and Rupert viciously struck out with his foot and kicked her in the side.
"How did she get the key to the cuffs, Melinda? You almost ruined this whole night. Don't you understand," he pushed her toward Mulder with his foot. "Nothing matters but this. This experiment is the only thing that means anything to me, and you tried to take it away from me."
"Rupert!" Mulder warned, putting himself between Ethan and Melinda.
"Shut up!" He shouted. He pressed the gun more firmly into Scully's back causing her to wince in pain.
"You never understood. All these years of perfecting this procedure and you throw it away. You know how important this is. All those years in that lab, this is the only thing that kept me going. The only thing that made me want to get out of bed in the morning. The only thing I live for. You tried to take that away from me."
Rupert was becoming agitated again and Mulder watched him closely, waiting for an opportunity to strike. It came sooner than he thought it would. Mulder watched Rupert push Scully toward the exam table, her feet still tangled in the cords of the drapes on the floor. He bent with her to untangle her feet when Scully used as much strength as she could summon to elbow him in the throat.
Rupert was knocked off balance and that was the only opportunity Mulder needed to attack. Mulder leaped and threw Rupert to the floor. The gun skidded across the floor to the far end of the room. Scully fell to the side and while the two men struggled, she began to crawl toward the gun.
The two men battled on the floor. Just when Scully thought that Mulder had the upper hand, Rupert would rally. Mulder shoved Rupert hard with his hands to his chest and the older man flew backward, knocking over one of the many tables throughout the room.
The Bunsen burner crashed to the floor. The glass vial of liquid smashing into pieces and the flame igniting the curtain still hanging on the side wall. Rupert picked up a piece of the shattered vial and brandishing it as a weapon, he advanced toward Mulder. Backing away, Mulder accidentally pushed another beaker to the floor, torching the curtain on the opposite wall.
The room was rapidly filling with smoke and flame. Scully pushed herself forward to reach the gun, pausing she turned to see Rupert standing over Mulder holding the jagged glass. The smoke stung her eyes and as she turned away -- a gunshot exploded in the room.
Scully watched Rupert look down in surprise at the red stain spreading across the front of his lab coat. She looked up to see Melinda holding the gun, tears streaming down her face.
"I'm your husband," he shrieked at her as he fell to his knees.
"My husband's dead." She raised the gun and fired it at him a second time.
Rupert's body sagged to the floor. Mulder quickly approached Melinda.
"Melinda -- give me the gun," he requested holding his hand out to her. His voice was calm and steady, but his eyes revealed his apprehension as he watched the flames spread.
She looked away from Ethan's body and handed the gun to Mulder. The flames now covered three of the room's four walls and were licking hungrily at the ceiling. Mulder crouched down to the floor and helped Scully to her feet.
"Come on, there's only one way out of here." Melinda instructed, moving toward the door behind the exam table.
Flames rolled across the ceiling like storm-tossed waves across an indifferent sea. Mulder picked Scully up into his arms and rushed to the door. Melinda stopped briefly over Ethan's body.
"Do you want me to get him out?" Mulder asked her.
"No," she shook her head. "He belongs here."
Melinda led them through the dark basement corridors while the fire continued to spread, devouring the rotting structure. The smoke in the hallway was becoming thick.
"It's getting hot in here. Are you all right?" Scully asked her partner, fully aware of his fear of fire.
"I always said I would walk through fire for you if you needed me to, Scully. I just never thought you would take me literally." He spoke, his brow wrinkled in concentration as he traveled through the dark hall. This was one of his own many private versions of hell, trapped in a burning smoke-filled house. He fought against the over-whelming urge to give into the paralyzing fear. There was only one reason his brain continued to function and his legs continued to carry him forward -- the woman in his arms.
A flight of stairs brought them up to the ground floor of the house. The fire was already there, engulfing the hallway. Mulder clutched Scully tighter in his arms and followed Melinda toward the front door.
Melinda opened the door and held it open against the wind of the still raging storm. Mulder took Scully out onto the front porch and wrapped the sheet more tightly around her to shelter her from the sharp biting wind.
Mulder turned in time to see Melinda close to the front door of the house and lock herself inside.
"Melinda!" Mulder yelled above the storm. He stepped up next to the door and Melinda met his eyes through the smudged cracked glass window. She placed her hand on the glass. Scully reached out and put her hand on the outside of the glass -- opposite Melinda's. Scully met the woman's eyes. They were no longer void of emotion. Melinda's eyes brimmed with
determination, resignation -- and something else Scully didn't recognize at first, but then realized was peace.
"Let's go Mulder. She's not going to leave him."
Mulder took one last look at the woman behind the glass and stepped off the porch into the storm. He carried Scully down the broken sidewalk and didn't turn around until they had reached the road.
He saw the flames inside the windows of the house. Pulling Scully closer to him, he turned and headed up the hill back to the car. He hoped the house burned all the way to hell.
The rain beat against the gravel and water ran in streams down the road. Mulder trudged up the hill, fighting the storm. Scully shivered in his arms.
"Where are we going?" She asked.
"The car. It'll be dry and we can get your bag and you can change. I need to figure out a way to get you to a hospital. I'll drive on the rims if I have to."
"No hospital, Mulder." Scully insisted.
"You're going to the hospital."
"Mulder, my life has revolved around hospitals." Scully pulled her hand out from under the wet sheet and cupped his cheek. "I don't want to go to a hospital. Not tonight."
"You can barely walk."
Scully struggled to get out of his arms, wanting to prove him wrong. His arms only tightened around her.
"Fine, no hospital. Hold still."
She settled against his chest again and Mulder continued his journey to the car.
Once there he carefully put Scully in the back seat and grabbed their bags and the emergency first aid kit from the trunk. Climbing in the back seat next to her, he closed the door.
"Jesus, Scully, do you think we've ever been this wet?"
"Cold," she muttered, her teeth chattering loudly.
"I know. We need to get you warmed up."
"Too bad we don't have one of those sleeping bags." Scully eyed him coyly, her eyes peeking up above the wet sheet.
Mulder turned and grinned at the memory before rummaging through her bag for some dry clothes.
"Remind me when I get back to DC that my first trip is to an army surplus store."
Mulder gave up searching through her bag and pulled a sweatshirt from his bag. He unwrapped the sheet from around her and threw it on the floor of the car. He helped her into the sweatshirt, rolling up the sleeves for her.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"Any time."
Mulder climbed into the front seat, Scully trying not to grin at him as his head hit the top of the car. He turned the key in the ignition. The car sputtered and then was silent. He turned the key again -- again the car sputtered and died.
"Do you think it's flooded?" Scully asked from behind him.
Mulder scowled at the pun and glanced at her in the rear view mirror. She was quite a sight, wet hair, bundled up in his sweatshirt -- beautiful.
Still looking in the mirror, Mulder saw the flashing red and blue lights of a squad car pulling up behind them.
"Still got our badges in your pocket?"
Scully handed him his badge and he took it from her, holding her hand for a long moment.
"I'll be right back," he promised her.
Scully watched Mulder get out of the car before she lay her head back and rested.
After a couple of minutes Mulder opened the back door and grabbed their bags.
"Do we need anything else?"
Scully was silent, her eyes closed.
"Scully?"
Mulder dropped the bags and crawled across the seat to her.
"Hmmm..." she muttered not opening her eyes. "I'm so tired, Mulder."
Mulder let out a sigh of relief and passed the three bags to the sheriff standing behind him in the rain.
"I know you're tired, Scully. You go ahead and sleep." Mulder gathered her up into his arms and carried her to the awaiting squad car. He climbed in the backseat and held Scully in his lap.
"Agent Mulder?" The sheriff questioned.
"We need to get her to the nearest hospital," he said before settling back in the seat and tucking her head beneath his chin.
--- ---
But still it rained. The thunder and lightning had made peace with each other, but still it rained. The sun had set several hours ago, replacing the gray sky with a deep, dark black. The moon -- although not as full as it had been two nights ago -- was beginning to appear through the clouds.
The wipers pushed the water from the windshield of the squad car, occasionally squeaking against the glass.
Sheriff Monroe was idly making conversation by filling Scully in on what had occurred during her absence as he drove.
"The fire department and a rescue squad got out to the house. The structure itself was still standing, probably due to the rain, but the inside of the house was gutted by the fire. We didn't find any survivors, and hell, we wouldn't have found any of the bodies for a good day or two if it hadn't been for Agent Mulder. He led us to the two in what used to be the lab. It was a bit trickier to find the rest. It will be a long identification process. We're going to start by trying to match the people reported missing with the remains of those we found. I still can't believe..."
The sheriff continued to speak and Mulder tried to concentrate on what the man was saying, but all of his concentration was focused on Scully.
He could see her out of the corner of his eye. She was sitting as far away from him as the limited space in the backseat of the car allowed. Her shoulder was pressed against the window of the door. Her back was ram-rod straight, her shoulders squared, her arms crossed, her chin set, her lips pursed and her eyes looking only straight forward. He knew that the position she was stubbornly holding must be hurting her tired body a great deal. He had realized that the decision he made would have ramifications, but he hadn't expected this. Scully was furious, and he was the source of her anger.
She had spent thirty-six hours in the hospital. Scully hadn't spoken two civil words to him since she had woken up in the emergency room bay. In his own defense, he justified, he hadn't promised her that he wouldn't take her to the hospital.
When he had been sure she was in good hands, he had joined the fire department back at the house. At least there he had felt like he could be of some help.
The doctors had poked and prodded. They had run tests and taken her blood. They had deemed her very lucky to be alive and against their recommendations, she had signed herself out. Mulder wasn't sorry that he had taken her to the hospital, but the look on her face told him that he would be.
The sheriff slowed the car and pulled up in front of the local motel he had suggested.
"Agent Mulder, I called ahead and John said he would have the rooms ready for you. You just need to pick up the keys. Unfortunately, the electricity is still out in the area. They hope to have it back up by morning."
"I'm sure it will be fine. I'll get the keys and be right back."
Mulder opened the car door and looked hopefully at Scully -- her eyes stayed focused straight ahead.
Getting out of the car, Mulder ran through the rain and into the motel office. John, as promised, was waiting. Mulder signed for the rooms and took the keys. He walked back outside into the rain and saw Scully standing under a nearby awning, their suitcases and the first aid kit from the car at her feet.
"Where is Sheriff Monroe?" Mulder asked, ducking under the shelter with her.
"He got a call," she answered simply. "He said he would make sure the garage delivers the car tomorrow."
"He just left you here?" Mulder asked, angry at the man's thoughtlessness.
"Mulder, I told him to go," Scully explained, her words curt. She carefully bent and picked up the emergency kit, the smaller of the three bags. "Where are the rooms?"
"Over there," Mulder pointed across the parking lot to an adjacent set of rooms. He scanned the area and saw that the only way to the rooms was across the lot -- out in the rain. Scully came to the same conclusion. She stepped out from under the awning. Wearily and with caution, she began walking across the pavement. Mulder lifted her bag and put the strap over his shoulder. He picked up his suitcase and in three steps he caught up to Scully. He put his free hand in the small of her back and slowly they walked through the rain.
She felt his familiar touch and although she was still angry with him, it comforted her. The rain washed over her skin. The pain-killers the doctor had insisted she take were beginning to have an effect. She was becoming disoriented and it was taking all of her concentration to continue moving forward. She knew Mulder could have easily crossed the lot faster than they were currently moving. She was grateful that he stayed by her side.
It wasn't that he had taken her to the hospital that made her angry. No matter how much she had wanted to deny it -- she had needed a doctor. It was that he had done it without any respect for her wishes. He didn't take her to the hospital because she needed to go; he took her because he needed her to go. If she stopped being angry at him for long enough she knew she would realize that she was being irrational, but if she stopped being angry she would have time to think about what had almost happened. It was easier being angry.
They reached the door to the room that would be hers. Scully rested against the door frame and watched Mulder open the door. She had an idea of how guilty she was making him feel -- his teeth had been working over-time on his bottom lip since she woke up in the hospital.
Mulder set their bags inside the room and held out his hand to help her inside. Scully slowly crossed the threshold, ignoring Mulder's offering of assistance.
She stepped past him and sat down on the bed, her muscles screaming at the exertion from just the short walk. She watched Mulder step into the bathroom and retrieve a towel. She took it and tried to dry her hair and blot some of the excess water from Mulder's sweatshirt, which she still wore.
Mulder moved about the room, lighting a candle and setting it on the bed-side table. She turned her head when she no longer heard his movements. Mulder was standing next to the bed, silent. After a moment, he lifted his hands to his hips and walked to stand in front of her.
"You would have done the same thing," he insisted. "If the situation had been reversed, you would have done the same thing. I had to know that you were going to be all right."
She sighed, closing her eyes. She didn't want to fight with him. After everything they had been through -- she didn't want to fight with him. She let out a long deep breath, letting her anger travel from her with it. She opened her eyes and looked up at him.
"You're right. I would have done the same thing," she admitted. "You were right to take me to the hospital.
He watched her for a moment -- things with Scully usually weren't this easy. He nodded his assertion.
"Mulder?" Scully glanced around the room and toward his bag. "If you just checked us into the motel, where did you sleep last night?"
"The chair outside your hospital room," he answered shyly.
It was her turn to be silent at his admission.
"Scully, you're supposed to be resting. I can tell the medication is making you tired."
"I need to take a shower," she decided, thinking out loud.
Scully tried to stand. It was on her second failed attempt that she felt his hand on her arm helping her off the bed.
"Thanks," she muttered, angry at herself for being so weak. Unsteady in her movements, Scully felt Mulder's hand remain on her arm. "Mulder, you're hovering," she accused, the bitterness toward her own weakness suddenly misdirected at him. She regretted her words the instant she looked into his eyes.
Mulder looked down at her, his feelings in turmoil. Frustration and anger took momentary control of his demeanor. He abruptly released her arm and turned his back on her.
"I watched you die," he began softly. "I watched you die and there was nothing I could do about it. I had to watch him hurt you...again...and again...and again." His voice grew in intensity and volume but his words were broken. He turned to face her then, his eyes wet with unshed tears but also full of animosity at her for not understanding that he needed to be the one to take care of her now. "Excuse the fuck out of me if I hover!"
The air was charged with intensity. Tension that broke only when Mulder brought his hands to his face and hung his head filled the room.
"I'm sorry, Scully. So sorry," he muttered through his fingers as he shook his head in remorse for yelling at her.
She reached out to him and laced her fingers with his, pulling his hand away from his face.
"It's ok, Mulder. I'm going to be fine. It's over. It's all over."
He pulled her into his arms and hugged her close to him. He held her and felt her arms circle his waist. It was over. Suddenly, all the energy drained from his body and he was over come with what he might have lost.
"I don't know what I would have done," he said stumbling over the words. "I can't imagine life..."
Scully pulled away from him. Reaching up, she placed her hand behind his neck and pulled his head down so that she could kiss his forehead.
"Don't imagine," she whispered against his skin. She tangled her hand in his hair and he rested his head on her shoulder. They stood like that for several minutes before she pulled away from him.
"Mulder, I'm so tired. We both need to get into some dry clothes and get some sleep." Mulder nodded his head, tucking a stray piece of her hair behind her ear. "But first, I need to take a shower. Could you please put my bag in the bathroom?"
He squeezed her hand and picked up her bag from the floor. He took the bag and another candle into the bathroom for her. She kicked her shoes off her feet, balancing by holding onto a nearby chair. She walked as quickly as her battered body would allow her toward the bathroom. Mulder stepped out into the room.
"Call me if you need anything."
"Thank you," she replied honestly, smiling at him as she walked into the bathroom. She closed the door behind her.
Mulder turned down the blankets on her bed and unlocked her side of the adjoining doors. He picked up his bag and went back out into the rain. Using his key, he let himself into his room, identical to hers. Throwing his bag on the bed, he immediately unlocked his door adjoining her room. He opened both doors and began stripping off his own wet clothing. When all of his clothes, except his boxers, lay in a wet heap on the floor, he unzipped his bag and removed his running shorts, a t-shirt and another pair of boxers.
"Mulder?" Her voice was muffled by the closed door but his senses were instantly aware of her. He quickly crossed the distance to the door of her bathroom.
"Scully?"
"Mulder...I need your help."
Her voice sounded small and he didn't hesitate to open the door.
There you go. All done. For now. Until I finish some other things, at least. Oh well.
