Title: Flashback
Author: Lynn B.
Written: May 2001
Rating: PG
Classification: Adventure/Angst
Spoilers: none
Keywords: Mulder/pain, Scully/angst, KatieM, LKB

Summary: A quiet weekend in a small town turns out to be anything but.

"Nashville. We're going to Nashville. Why?... Or do I want to know?"

Scully knew how close Nashville is to Memphis and was relatively certain that they would not get out of Tennessee without going by way of Graceland. Mulder's own personal Mecca.

"Actually, Scully, we're going to Waverly, about 40 miles West of Nashville. Interesting case, Scully."

That was ten days ago and now the case was over. Mulder had been foiled again in his never-ending search for proof that werewolves really exist. As she finished packing, Scully couldn't resist rubbing it in a little. "Congenital Hypertrichosis, characterized by long baby-fine hair covering the entire body and face" she said quietly, "may be the very condition that started the werewolf myth centuries ago." Mulder ignored her. "It's very rare, you know," she continued "it supposedly affects only one in a billion people." Knowing he would not ask, knowing that he was listening in spite of himself, she continued, "Victims of this condition are very sensitive to light, so they would normally go out at night. They suffer gross physical anomalies. They often have extra fingers and toes, deformed genitalia and small pointed teeth. Is it really any wonder this man was thought to be a werewolf? Is it really any surprise to you that people wanted to believe it was some kind of obvious monster who killed four children, instead of the normal- looking monster next door?" She didn't really expect an answer to her questions and he didn't surprise her.

Mulder continued to toss clothes haphazardly into his suitcase, ignoring her. Each time he turned away to reach for something else, Scully removed, folded and replaced what he had just put in.

"Why don't you just pack for me?" Mulder asked impatiently, hands on his hips, pouting.

Scully couldn't help the laugh that slipped out. "Mulder, you are so cute when you pout like a little boy. With no warning, Mulder grabbed her shoulders and pushed her backwards onto the bed, falling partly on her in the process.

"I'll show you 'little boy' you wench!" Scully squealed as he tickled her and pretended to bite her neck. "Not all werewolves look like monsters, you know!" He said, punctuating it with a growl. Now he had her pinned on the bed, her wrists firmly in his hands, his legs straddling hers, his weight on her thighs. He bared his teeth in a feral grin, looking down at her. "Give up?"

"I give up." Scully tried to sound serious. A quick kiss on her nose and he stood up, dragging her with him.

"You're nuts, Mulder."

Scully had been very surprised that Mulder had not suggested a side-trip to Graceland. Surprised and pleased. She was surprised and less than pleased to hear him say "Let's drive back, Scully."

"Mulder, it's a 12-hour drive at least!" She really just wanted to get home. During the investigation, she had been tackled from behind and had wrenched her back. It wasn't bad but she really didn't want to spend 12 hours sitting in a car.

"Oh, come on, Scully! We don't have to be at work until Monday. We'll make a weekend of it. It will be a nice drive. We'll have lunch before we go. I'll buy." On the other hand, a weekend spent doing nothing but sight-seeing might be a nice break. Having Mulder pay for lunch would be a welcome change, too.

"Okay, sure, why not?" She hoped her smile would make up for the lack of enthusiasm in her voice. "You'd better call the rental company and tell them we're taking their car out of state they like to know things like that."

Within an hour, they were on their way.

Sightseeing, indeed, Scully thought as she saw mile after mile of Kentucky farmland. Trust Mulder to bypass every town on the map. She dozed off a couple of times only to awaken to a stiff neck. Cars were not meant for sleeping. She leaned back into the headrest and closed her eyes. Think pleasant thoughts, she said to herself. She found herself thinking about the first time she had made love to Mulder.

It had come as something of a surprise to both of them. "It just happened" was the expression so many people used to describe the phenomenon that was a combination of fatigue, stress, fear and opportunity that brought repressed feelings boiling to the surface. Not to mention beer. A temporary loss of control that made one give in to urges that are normally deeply suppressed. "Jeez..." she had said to herself "... if all it takes is two beers to get you into bed, it's a good thing you don't go to bars!" The next morning, feeling guilty and embarrassed, she mustered all the dignity she could manage before walking into her kitchen where he was sitting. In response to what she came to think of as his 'morning after' smile, she leaned on the table, looked him right in the eyes and said "It never happened, Mulder," then proceeded to pretend just that. Mulder, of course, never at a loss for a smart comment, replied "And I sincerely hope it will never happen again, Scully."

In spite of her best intentions, it had happened again, a dozen times or so in the three years since then. Not that she didn't enjoy it a lot but it really was not prudent. Each time, her resolve returned after the fact.

A spasm in her back brought her back to present reality. Groaning, she turned to Mulder and almost whined "Mulder, can we please stop somewhere? My back is killing me, I'm hungry, my neck hurts and I have to go to the bathroom." He looked over at her, almost as if he had forgotten she was there and she continued "Aren't you stiff after sitting in this car for the last hundred hours?"

Smiling just a little, Mulder said "It's only been about six hours, Scully, and do you see a bathroom anywhere?" Involuntarily, she turned her head to look around, feeling again the stiffness in her neck. With a sigh, she leaned back against the headrest and closed her eyes once more.

The car slowed down then, and Mulder pulled off to the shoulder, at the same time saying "Get the map out, Scully, and we'll see how far from civilization we are." As she leaned forward to pick up the map where she had dropped it on the floor, he reached over and gently massaged her neck. A small groan escaped her and she stayed leaned over for a minute until another spasm made her feel the need to sit upright. Knowing she couldn't sit for one more minute, she got out of the car to walk around. Mulder got out and walked around the car, spread the map out on the hood and attempted to figure out just where they were at the moment. Scully stepped over to him and joined him in looking helplessly at the map that told them nothing at all. They would just have to keep driving until something identifiable appeared in their path.

They turned simultaneously toward a sound they heard behind them, to see a middle-aged man walking toward them, a small black dog close on his heels. "Can I help you folks with anything?"

"Where did you come from? I didn't see you there before." Scully exclaimed, more than a little disconcerted that he could have gotten so close without them knowing.

With a little chuckle, he said "You can't see my house from here, it's down in a little gully, just over the way." After a small pause, he continued "Did your car break down, or are you just lost?" Scully was curious to note that, although she was the one who had asked the question, the man was looking directly at Mulder when he answered.

"We've been on the road all day and were looking for a place to eat and stop for the night," Mulder responded. "How far are we from the nearest town?"

"Well, Manchester is about forty miles back the way you came, and Angelton is about sixty miles ahead of you." Scully couldn't help wondering how anyone could choose to live so far from anywhere. The man spoke agonizingly slowly. She wanted to slap him into second gear. Lord, she was tired and cranky. He continued to speak "There's a little hamlet up the road a ways, not too far, maybe six or eight miles. Not many people there, but it's right on the highway, should have everything you need. Motel, coupla restaurants, gas station, coupla stores, bank, Sheriff's office that's about it. It don't have an official name, but folks around here call it Fishbait."

"Why?" Scully exclaimed. She imagined having to tell people she lived in Fishbait, Kentucky. Immediately, she wished she could take back her question and, as he opened his mouth to speak, she fervently hoped it was not a long story.

"Cause it all started when a guy named Fish started a bait shop. Called it "Fish's Bait". A hundred miles from any water and he opened a bait shop! Course, it wasn't really a bait shop, just a general store, but calling it that attracted peoples' attention. Did a pretty good business, too. Kinda made other people start up there, then the Sheriff decided it was a good central location for his office and that was that."

"A hamlet was born." added Mulder. "Well thank you, sir, you've been very helpful and I guess we'll be on our way now. You have a nice day." Scully was thankful to be getting back in the car, even with a sore back and a stiff neck. Some people, she thought, just have too much time on their hands.

As she buckled her seatbelt, she noticed Mulder looking at her with a grin. "A hamm-let," he said "Scully, we're going to stay in a hamm-let." She didn't know why he thought that word was funny but it was a nice change to see him amused. She smiled and leaned back on the headrest.

In just a few minutes they saw several buildings clustered together on their right. "Oh look, Scully, it's a hamlet!" What appeared to be a road ran off to the right between the gas station and the motel. Turning onto it, they could see several more businesses and a few houses.

Framing the little settlement on three sides was a natural woods, thick in only a few noticeable places. Scully thought it was very picturesque and said so. Mulder noted that it looked just like every little town in every horror movie ever made. Scully glanced sideways at him, shaking her head. "You have a twisted view of things, Agent Mulder."

"Why thank you, Agent Scully, I didn't think you'd noticed."

They went directly to the motel office and asked for two connecting rooms. The young man behind the desk smirked. "We don't rent by the hour and we don't ask for a marriage certificate. No need to fake it, man."

Mulder leaned forward and whispered near the young man's ear, "She's my sister."

"Oh, sorry, man connecting rooms it is," handing them each a key. "Rooms 28 and 29, around the back."

Getting back in the car, Mulder suggested that Scully have a hot bath and offered her a massage. Scully eagerly accepted before he had a chance to change his mind. Her back was aching unmercifully.

The tub wasn't very comfortable but at least the water was hot. Looking forward to the promised massage, Scully opted for a quick wash instead of a long soak. Stepping out of the tub, she picked up the towel and dried herself. Bending to dry her legs, she heard and felt her spine creak. A massage was sounding better and better all the time.

When she walked into the room, the connecting door was open and she could hear Mulder moving around in his room. Probably throwing clothes around to make it feel more like home, she thought, smiling. "Hey, Mulder" she called quietly at the doorway.

"Hey, Scully" came the reply. Mulder came into view then, walking toward her with a table lamp in his hand. She didn't want to know. "Get naked, woman and let's get at it" he said in a pathetic imitation of the man they had met on the road.

She raised her arm and put her palm on his chest, halting his progress. "Don't be crude, Mulder." Then, on an impulse, she let her hand slide up his chest and around his neck and planted a little kiss on his lips.

"Mmmm" was his only response. As she brought her arm down and stepped back, he said "You go get ready and I'll be right there." With his back to her, he called out "Cover up anything you don't want me to touch!" She smiled at the image of herself lying naked on the bed with a sheet over her head.

Scully lay face down on the bed, pillow under her chest, and pulled the sheet up to her waist. With a smile, she pulled the bottom of it up to uncover her feet and calves.

A memory surfaced of lying just like this on her own couch, Mulder rubbing her feet while they talked. Soon he was massaging her calves, her thighs, her buttocks. One thing led to another and there went her resolve again. The next morning, even while trying to pretend that they hadn't spent the night together on her living room floor, she had an overwhelming urge to wear the black lace teddy that was hidden in the back of her sock drawer under her stern business suit. She had spent the whole day feeling incredibly decadent.

A small smile played about her lips at the memory, disturbed only by the quiet tread of the man himself approaching the bed. "You aren't sleeping, are you?"

"Not a chance, buster. I'm not letting you off that easily." She had left him plenty of room to sit on the side of the bed and he sat with a breathy sigh. His hands were cool when he placed them on her shoulders and began to knead, working his way down to where the sheet started, and back up again. Scully relaxed a little more with each stroke.

He expertly massaged her neck, shoulders and back for twenty minutes. It surprised her when his hands suddenly left her body. "No, don't stop" she begged.

"I have to stop now, Scully, really." His voice shook just a little.

"Please??"

"Seriously, unless you want more than a massage, I have to stop now"

She leaned up on one elbow to look at him over her shoulder. His eyes came up to meet hers. She held them for a moment before she spoke. Her voice was just a bit husky. "Seriously, Mulder. Don't stop." With that, she dropped back to the pillow. A moan slipped out when he eased the sheet down over her hips and pulled it off the bed. He paused long enough to remove his sweat pants and climb onto the bed. He used his knees to push her legs apart and kneeled on the bed between them, continuing the massage. This time, a little more thoroughly.

Scully began to squirm a little. He slid his hands around her hips and gently lifted her. He entered her slowly, continuing to massage her lower back. She moved with him and his hands moved to her waist, pulling her back into him with faster and more vigorous thrusts. Suddenly he pulled out, eliciting a groan of disappointment. His hand fell to one shoulder and rolled her over and off of the pillow and he entered her again, suddenly, all at once. Her startled intake of breath quickly became a groan of pure pleasure. While one wandering hand stroked her belly, the other fell to their connected groins and went unerringly to the one spot guaranteed to make her moan God, how he loved to hear her moan! Scully moaned.

With a shudder and a little squeal, she reached out for him, scrabbling at his chest, incapable of speech. He leaned forward and she clutched at his shoulders, pulling him down onto her body, gripping him in a bear-hug. He continued to thrust harder and faster until he could hold back no longer.

After he was spent, his body relaxed and he rolled off her to lie beside her. He raised himself to lean on one elbow, watching her as his free hand caressed her.

"Mulder?" quietly, her eyes still closed.

"Yes?"

"We shouldn't do this."

"I know."

"Why do we?"

"Because we like it."

"Mmmm, we do like it, don't we?" She smiled as she opened her eyes just in time to see his lips approaching hers.

"I'm hungry" she said, right to his lips.

"Me too" he responded. Then his mouth covered hers as his hand went to the back of her head, lifting her to meet him half way. Not that she needed any help with that. He broke off the kiss and touched his lips gently to her nose. "Let's go get something to eat." With that, he rolled off the bed and strode, naked, to his own room. Scully watched him walk away, giving a wolf-whistle just before he passed out of her sight.

Mulder and Scully walked hand-in-hand to the small restaurant that was just down the street from the motel. In fact, just about everything in town was just down the street. Scully mused that there were probably more businesses than houses and Mulder responded that there couldn't be more than 200 people living here.

"Two hundred and twenty seven" came a voice from the darkness. "Two twenty eight if Mrs. Stone has had her baby today."

Looking around for the source of the voice, the agents spotted a person sitting in the shadows in the doorway of the bank. A tall, rather stooped man unfolded himself and stepped toward them into the light. He appeared to be in his late 50's with tidy grey hair and an old jagged scar running from his left temple to his chin. "Sorry to startle you, I'm Gordon Chester," and he shook hands with each of them in turn, before turning to amble away, leaving both of them staring open-mouthed at his retreating back.

"Weird" commented Mulder as they turned to the restaurant entrance. At 8:00, there were very few patrons and they were seated and served in record time. By 9:00 they were ready to leave when Mulder suggested they get a six- pack from the bar and take it back to the motel with them. Scully waited by the door long enough to wonder what was keeping him and headed toward the bar across the room. Just then she saw Mulder approaching, beer in hand.

"What took you so long?"

"Oh, I was just talking to the bartender about that guy outside. Interesting story."

It was a nice night, if a little chilly, and they took their time walking back, Scully looking forward to a good night's sleep and Mulder hoping for a re-run of their earlier activities.

"Scully, let's not head back tomorrow, let's stay here another day and head home on Sunday. We can wander around this place for a while and you can rest your back for one more day before I make you suffer through 6 more hours in the car."

Pausing for just a moment to consider, Scully thought a lazy day sounded like just what the doctor ordered. If only she had known.

Everyone in Fishbait knew of Gordon Chester. He had been born and raised on a nearby farm. In 1964, the day he turned 18, he enlisted in the Army. He was sent to Vietnam almost immediately. After three years, Gordon came home. He was never the same again. Thirty three years later, he sometimes forgot where he was. Everyone tolerated his occasional outbursts, partly because he seemed quite harmless but mostly because they all knew he was a hero. He had saved his entire unit from an ambush by locating a Viet Cong encampment and making it back to his unit in the dark, allowing them to ambush the ambushers. Twelve Viet Cong were killed and twenty-two American soldiers were saved. The fact that it had happened so long ago did not make him any less a hero in his neighbor's eyes. The fact that he had suffered a severe head injury "over there" made him unfortunate rather than pathetic. His veteran's pension was almost enough to support him and people just chipped in a bit here and there to make up the difference. He lived in a rented room at Josie Miniver's place. Only when he slipped back into the past did he remember that Josie used to be his girlfriend before he went away. Usually, Gordon was quite lucid and very pleasant. He was never seen without his backpack. No one really knew what he carried in it but no one ever asked him about it any more. Gordon didn't like to talk about it. Most of his time was spent sitting on the sidewalk outside the restaurant, or in the courtyard of the bank, drawing charcoal sketches of the people and things around him. He knew everyone in town and most people passing by would wave or call out in response to his cheerful greeting. Nearly everyone in town had at least one of Gordon's sketches hanging in their house.

Tourists found him a delightful source of information on the history of the area. No one cared that he occasionally had "spells". Sometimes he would disappear for a few days. Anyone who cared knew he had a shack in the woods just outside of town. He had built it himself almost twenty years ago, out of pilfered bits of wood and what other supplies he was able to scrounge. It was his own private place and few had ever seen it. Occasionally they would see him skulking around, clinging to walls and sneaking from place to place. They just looked the other way and let him be, knowing it would pass. Once in a while he would be found sitting in an alley-way, against the side of a building, muttering unintelligibly, or shouting a warning to passersby. On those occasions, someone would lead him back to his home and Josie would put him to bed.

Several years ago, a young Chinese family opened a pharmacy in Fishbait and Gordon became quite disturbed at the sight of them at first. The Lings were very kind and patient and after a while, Gordon became accustomed to seeing them, although he never allowed them to become friends and he refused to sketch them.

The bartender quite readily related Gordon's life story to Mulder, in response to his casual question. It seemed that the whole town was quite proud of having an eccentric war hero in their midst.

"No, thanks, I think I'll pass. I'm tired and I need to get some sleep." Scully answered Mulder's offer of a beer.

"Oh come on, Scully, it's Friday night and it's not even 10:00! There's probably a good movie on TV I'll let you pick."

"Mulder, don't whine.....and stop pouting!" Scully couldn't help smiling. Damn him, he always knew how to get to her. "All right, all right. Let me get into my pyjamas and you can watch your movie in here"

Knowing that she would very likely be asleep before he finished flipping through all the channels to choose a movie, Scully crawled into her bed and settled down into the covers. She was careful to leave enough room for Mulder to sit beside her on the bed, knowing that he would claim it was the best angle to see the television from. A few minutes later, Mulder came into the room wearing yet another pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt. From three feet away, he jumped onto the bed. He immediately snuggled right up against her and whispered in her ear. "We could just skip the movie, Scully."

"Mulder, I have a gun." Getting the message, Mulder turned the TV on and started jumping from channel to channel. Sighing, Scully laid her head on his chest, drawing his arm over her shoulder. Within minutes, she was asleep.

Scully awoke a few hours later, not knowing exactly what woke her up but realizing that Mulder was no longer in her bed. Slowly, the sound of a test pattern penetrated the fog. The connecting door was open and the light was on in Mulder's room. She could see the peculiar glow of the TV somewhere to the right of the door. She dragged herself out of bed and padded across the floor on bare feet. Her resentment dissolved when she saw Mulder sprawled face down at the wrong end of the bed, the blankets piled on the floor. She retrieved the remote from the floor and turned off the TV, pulled a blanket over him and, before she reached for the light, she couldn't resist stroking his hair. Stepping toward the night stand, she realized the lamp wasn't on it. Curiously, she looked around the room and saw it on the dresser beside the door into her room. There was no understanding this man. With one last fond look, she turned off the light and made her way back to her own bed.

Scully awoke Saturday morning to find that Mulder was still asleep. Dressing quickly, she crept into his room and over to the bed. With a smile, she dropped onto the bed, nearly bouncing Mulder off the edge. He awoke with a start.

"Hey Mulder."

"Hey Scully." A yawn and a stretch and then "How's your back?"

"A little better, thanks."

Lying on his back now, perilously close to the edge of the bed, Mulder reached up and stroked her arm. A little push was all it took to put him on the floor. Scully leaned over and peered down at him. "Get dressed, Mulder, I'm ready for breakfast." Getting up from the bed, she continued "Bring your wallet, I'm starving." With that, she walked back toward her own room. She stopped at the door, turning with a curious look. Mulder was lying on his back on the floor, watching her. "Mulder, why did you move this lamp over here?" Expecting some bizarre superstition, she nearly laughed out loud at his answer. "Because I knew I would fall asleep with it on and you would come in and turn it off and I didn't want you to have to go back in the dark."

What a twisted mind. "Hurry up, Mulder"

By the time Scully had made her bed Mulder was dressed and ready to go. The diner attached to the motel served breakfast and they decided to go there. Over breakfast, they discussed what they would do for the rest of the day. The promise of a lazy day made Scully resistant to the idea of anything vigorous. "Let's just walk around a bit, maybe do some shopping. The walk will probably be good for my back."

"Is it bothering you a lot? Mulder asked, concerned. Then, with a wink and a grin, he said "I could give you a massage." He smiled at the tiny flush that appeared on her cheeks, which she quickly controlled.

"No, I think I'll pass I wouldn't want you to strain yourself."

"A walk it is, then. Shall we go, milady?" He reached out his hand to her.

Putting her hand in his, she rose from her chair and stepped very close to him. Standing on her toes, she leaned in to whisper in his ear. "Pay the bill, Mulder."

They walked down the street, hand-in-hand. Scully thought to herself how nice it was to have no one around that they knew. They could be more personal with each other, instead of always having to create a professional image. On the way, Mulder repeated the story he'd heard last night, about Gordon Chester. "What a shame it is," she said "the number of people whose lives were changed forever, in support of a lost cause."

Just then, Mulder spotted the Sheriff's office. A tidy little building between a coffee shop and a convenience store. Without any direct suggestion from either, they walked toward the door. Just then a deputy came out. "Can I help you folks?"

"No, just thought we'd look around, if that's okay."

"Sure, no problem. The Sheriff's inside." He held the door for them.

One look inside the building and Mulder muttered to Scully "I was expecting Andy of Mayberry this looks more like Star Trek." The office they walked into seemed to be all glass and chrome. The fax machine was spewing paper in the corner and the photocopier was running, seemingly of its own volition. There were three computer stations, two of them occupied. The third one was in screen saver, apparently. The pictures appearing on the screen at regular intervals were "most wanted" posters. A huge switchboard console dominated the center of the room, dwarfing the woman who sat behind it, talking quietly into a headset and tapping buttons on the console. The room hummed with equipment: the voices that could be heard were muted. The casual and homely appearance of the outside belied the efficiency and modernity of the inside.

A tall attractive man in a uniform came toward them from another room. "Can I help you with something?" A slight drawl made his throaty baritone pleasant to hear. Scully smiled and, before she could speak, Mulder spoke up.

"I'm Agent Mulder with the FBI. This is my partner, Agent Scully."

The sheriff shook hands with Mulder, saying "Pleased to meet you, Agent Mulder." Then he tipped his hat to Scully. "Ma'am". Pleasantries out of the way, he was businesslike again. "Are y'all here on business? I'm not aware of any problems that would require the services of the FBI."

Mulder was quick to assure him that they were just there for a little break on the way back to Washington.

"In that case, I hope y'all have a nice time here. Feel free to look around here. That lady over there is Jenny. She can tell you anything you need to know and, if y'all ask her nice, she'll show you around the office. Anything we can do to make your visit more enjoyable, just let me know." With that, he continued on his trip to the door.

Having heard her name, Jenny approached them and offered coffee. "It probably seems like a lot of stuff for a little office, but we cover a lot of territory."

By the time they left the Sheriff's office a half hour later they knew way more than they needed to know about how a sheriff's department worked and how this particular department compared to others in the state. Out on the sidewalk again, Scully mused "Mulder, did you notice anything odd about that?"

"You mean the way they called me by name and called you ma'am? Or the way they addressed every answer to me, even when it was you who asked the question?"

"Mulder, I'm impressed. I would have expected you to miss that."

"I'm learning, Scully." Not long ago, Scully had chastised him for not noticing sexist behavior, for not seeing it as important. "They're just a little behind the times, maybe. Could be they've never encountered a female Fed before." Seeing the look on her face, he added "Or maybe they are just shamefully uninformed" Hunching just a little to look into her eyes he said with a little shrug "and maybe it's not our job to educate them just now."

Scully was willing to shrug it off for the sake of harmony but, truthfully, it had bothered her more than a little to be dismissed by people who should think of her as a colleague. She let it go.

By noon, they had seen everything there was to see, including the original "Fish's Bait" store. It had been a nice morning. They had strolled and talked and laughed and held hands. It had been longer than either of them could remember since they had just relaxed and talked. As much as she had enjoyed the stroll, Scully was feeling her back a little. "Mulder, I'd like to go back to the Pharmacy and get something for my back."

Immediately contrite, Mulder said "I'm sorry, Scully, this was supposed to be a rest for you and here I am, dragging you all over town."

Remembering yesterday's comment, Scully couldn't resist saying "It's not a town, Mulder, it's a hamm-let," imitating his rendition of the word. " Really, it's not bad, I just want to catch it before it starts up again. Really, I've enjoyed myself. It's nice to have nothing to do for a while." (And to do it with you) she added to herself.

Entering the drug store, they found the pharmacy closed. A boy about 18 was manning the counter at the front of the store. Scully picked up a few items and went to the checkout. "Is the pharmacy closed for the day? I needed to pick up some medication."

The boy looked a little sheepish. " I can't do the drug part, just the store part. I think my mom she's the pharmacist will be back around 1:30. If you don't want to hang around until then, you can write down what you need and I'll bring it over to you."

Jumping in before Scully could answer, Mulder said "That would be very nice of you. We're staying at the motel, room 29."

Pulling a notepad and pen from under the counter, the boy said "okay, shoot."

"Orphenadrine, 12 tablets." Scully replied, "and extra-strength Tylenol". She was impressed to note that she didn't have to spell orphenadrine for him.

"12, 30, 50 or 100 Tylenol?" Very business-like, now.

"Just 12 will be fine, thank you."

"No problem, I'll get it over to you as soon as she gets back." He rang in their purchases and they left the store.

"Do you want to get a take-out lunch and go back to the room and rest, or would you rather go to the restaurant?"

"Mulder, I couldn't possibly eat again so soon after that big breakfast. Let's just pick something up and eat it later. I would like to lie down for a while."

Gordie had a bad headache and he was a little confused. He knew he was in a Cong village but couldn't remember just how he got there. He didn't know how he lost his unit but he knew he had to get back to them. He had taken quite a hit to the head, that's probably why he didn't remember. Well, that wasn't important. What mattered was why he was there. That he did remember.

Somewhere in this village, whose name he couldn't remember, there was an American, hiding out, pretending to be one of ours, intercepting radio transmissions, passing the information on to the Cong. That's how they know where we are and how many there are. That's why they're killing us faster than we're killing them. Bastards. Gordie's job was to find this American and bring him back to the unit for interrogation. Yeah, I'd like to be the one interrogating him! This was going to be easy. He blended in so well with his surroundings, they don't even see him. All I have to do is stay close to walls, not go out in the open, and it's like I'm invisible. Gordie would find that son of a bitch if it killed him. And if it does, I'm taking him with me, that's for sure!

Mulder was devouring the biggest sandwich she had ever seen. Her salad was sitting on the window sill, staying cool until she felt like eating it. Reclining in the chair, she was content for the moment to watch Mulder eat.

"It's a miracle you don't weigh 300 pounds."

"I'm a growing boy, Scully. I need my nutrients" To which her only response was a shake of her head. "You need yours too," he said, handing her the salad and a fork. "Eat."

At 1:40 the telephone rang.

"This is Wanda Ling, over at the pharmacy. I have your medication ready. If it's convenient, I'll send my son, Kevin, over with it now."

"Now would be fine, Mrs. Ling. Thank you." To Scully, he said "Your drugs are on the way."

Rising from the chair, Scully grimaced as a spasm clenched the muscles in her back. She was glad she had thought to order the meds. Seeing her wince, Mulder was immediately at her side, offering his arm. "You okay?" There was a knock at the door.

"I'm fine, Mulder. Go answer the door."

Scully heard Mulder say, "Hey Kevin, that was quick." The rest of the short conversation was lost as she headed toward her own room. Mulder followed her with the drug store package.

"You get undressed and get into bed. I'll get you a glass of water. You can sleep for a while. We'll get pizza for supper later." Scully acquiesced with a sigh of resignation. It seemed this man's whole life revolved around eating. Did he ever think of anything but food? She smiled a little, remembering what else he frequently thought about.

Mulder tucked her into bed, leaning over to kiss her cheek as she snuggled under the covers. "I wish I had thought to get a heating pad while I was there" she murmured. The muscle relaxant was beginning to work.

"I'll call over and ask Kevin to bring you one."

"No, that's okay, Mulder, I'll manage. I'm really sleepy."

He kissed her cheek once more. "You sleep. I'll order pizza later and call you when it gets here."

"kay" was all she could manage before drifting off. Mulder crossed to the connecting door, closing it quietly behind him. He called the drug store and Kevin answered.

"Kevin, this is Fox Mulder, over at the motel. You were just here a little while ago with some drugs" At Kevin's affirmative reply, Mulder continued "I was supposed to ask you to bring a heating pad too, and I forgot. Could you bring one over sometime this afternoon?"

"Sure Mr. Mulder, I can come right away if you want."

"That won't be necessary. She's gone to sleep now, so any time this afternoon will be fine."

Mulder settled in to the arm chair with a beer and the remote control. "Boy, this is the life. Only one thing better than this," he glanced at Scully's closed door.

A knock on the door startled Mulder into realizing that he had dozed off. Looking at the clock, he was surprised to see that it was almost 5:00. Kevin Ling was at the door with the heating pad he had ordered. As Kevin turned away, Mulder stopped him with a question. "I saw a pizza place this afternoon. Do they deliver?"

Kevin chuckled. "They do, but not until I finish at the drug store. I deliver for them, too." With a slightly apologetic tone, he added "I'm saving up to buy a motorcycle"

"Well, I guess I'm destined to see you one more time, because I'm going to order pizza later."

It seemed like as good a time as any to check on Scully. He quietly opened the door and walked to her bed. She was sleeping but not peacefully. He crouched beside the bed and roused her gently. "ssshhh..... I want you to sleep a little longer, Scully, but it's time for another pill." Helping her raise her head, he held the glass for her and handed her the two pills. He plugged in the heating pad and helped her settle in with it on her back. "I'll come back in a little while and turn it off so you don't burn yourself. Sleep now." He stroked her hair and held her hand while she drifted off again. When she was fully asleep he rose from his crouch and reluctantly let go of her hand. "I love you, beautiful lady." He whispered. He left the room, leaving the connecting door open only slightly, in case she woke up.

"I love you too" Scully whispered in her dream.

Scully entered the house and was immediately greeted by a cacophony of excited greetings. Two kids shouting "Mommy's home!" and "Hi Mommy!" , each trying to out-shout the other. The dog barking and running in circles, everyone trying to be the first to get to her. She looked over their collective heads to see him leaning against the doorframe, a dish towel slung over his shoulder, silently raising a hand in greeting. A few seconds of private time, then he was racing the kids and the dog to the door, catching Tina in one arm and Missy in the other, shouting over both of them. "Mommy's home! Hurray, hurray, Mommy's home!" The few seconds it took for all of them to reach her sounded like an hour. She was nearly bowled over by kids and man and dog. Laughing, even while she was trying to quiet them, she kissed them all in turn and allowed herself to be drawn into a group hug.

"Enough, enough!" she finally said. To the girls "go get ready for bed and I'll come and tuck you in. Daddy shouldn't have let you stay up so late." This said with a fond look at the guilty party.

"They wanted to be up when you got home. They missed you. So did I."

"I've only been gone two days." She had missed him too.

"That's about a day and a half too long" he said as he drew her toward him and hugged her. How was the conference?"

"About a day and a half too long" she replied, meaning it.

" I love you, beautiful lady" he whispered.

"I love you too" she whispered.

Scully sighed heavily in her sleep. Even while she was dreaming it, she knew it was only a dream. An impossible dream.

At 7:00, Mulder called to order the pizza. He would let Scully sleep until it arrived.

There he is, that has to be him, Gordie was sure of it. That messenger boy had been to see him twice. Both times, an exchange was made. Gordie ducked around the corner of a building. He knew he was practically invisible but better not to take any chances. This spy, this traitor, can't be allowed to see him. Gordie was going to put a stop to this treachery and today was the day. He isn't allowed to kill him unless he absolutely has to. His orders are to bring this S.O.B. in alive and by God that's what he's going to do. I just have to wait until nearly dark, then I can take him.

Gordie waited. It would be dark soon and he would be able to capture the spy and spirit him away to his camp. His unit will be waiting for him there. In no time at all, it was dusk. The street was empty. It's time.

Gordie reached into his backpack and withdrew his knife. He couldn't be sure where his rifle had gone, but the knife would do just fine. Quieter. He reached in again and withdrew a length of rope. This would do. He crept to the door where he had last seen the traitor. A quick rap and step to the side. Catch him by surprise. He's probably expecting that messenger boy again.

The traitor opened the door and took a step forward. He saw Gordie and tried to step back into the room but Gordie was too fast for him. In an instant he had the traitor by the hair, the knife to his throat. In a low voice, he said "Not a word out of you or I'll cut your throat." Pushing into the room, Gordie quickly tied the man's hands, leaving a short length of rope free. "You're going to come with me. If you don't, I'll kill you. I'll kill that pretty little whore you're shacking up with. Then I'll track down your family and I'll kill them, too. You understand, spy?" The traitor nodded.

Twenty minutes after ordering the pizza, there was a knock at the door. "That didn't take long" Mulder muttered as he approached the door. Opening the door, reaching for his wallet, it took less than a second for him to realize there was no one standing in front of the door. He took a step over the threshold and saw someone standing off to the right. Before he could do more than take one step back, the man was on him, grabbing him by the hair and holding a knife to his throat. Gordon Chester. What the heck was going on?

He opened his mouth to speak and Gordon gripped his hair even tighter, pulling his head further back. "Not a word out of you or I'll cut your throat" Mulder believed he meant it. Mulder had seen this man on the street, had listened to him speak. He could hardly believe it was the same man. The walk, the stance, even the voice was different. He was inclined to believe it was a brother but it would have been virtually impossible for two men to have identical scars. In the length of time it took for these thoughts to flash through his mind, Gordon had tied his wrists, leaving a tail hanging.

Gordon's voice was firm and low. "You're going to come with me." Mulder was prepared to resist. "If you don't, I'll kill you." Still looking for a way to get out of reach of the knife Gordon was carrying, Mulder had no intention of going anywhere. "I'll kill that pretty little whore you're shacking up with. Then I'll track down your family and I'll kill them, too." Scully. He thinks Scully is a hooker. With this, Mulder abandoned the idea of resistance. There would be other chances, he was sure of it. First, get him away from Scully. "You understand, spy?" Thinking furiously, Mulder nodded.

Gordon took the free end of the leash he had created from the rope. He peered out the door. Apparently no one was around. He then led Mulder out the door towards the back parking lot. They dodged and zig-zagged through the parking lot, as if there were obstructions. They reached the edge of the woods bordering the parking lot. Gordon expelled a relieved sigh. Frantically trying to discover what was happening, Mulder quietly said "Gordon...." and was rewarded with a backhand to the side of his head.

"Shut up don't you even talk to me!" A peculiar noise, then, like an angry cat. "Spy! Traitor!" Mulder was beginning to understand. "Gordon, you're mistaken. I'm not..." He was interrupted by a fist that knocked him right off his feet. As quick as a cat, Gordon was on his knees, tying Mulder's feet together. He left just barely enough rope between them for Mulder to walk with small steps. There was no hope of running.

After a few minutes, they reached a small clearing with what looked like a pile of lumber at the far edge. Getting closer, Mulder realized it was a ramshackle building. Butted right up against a huge tree, it was more like a lean-to than anything else. They were surrounded on all sides by trees but, based on the time it took to get there, Mulder guessed they were no more than a couple hundred yards from the motel parking lot.

Gordie held the free end of the rope and led the man back to the door. Checking first to see that no one was about, he leads the way out the door and around the back of the building. Staying to the shadows, they crept through a field and got to the woods without incident. So far, no one had fired on them. By the time anyone notices the spy missing, they would be miles away.

The traitor started to talk. Gordie hit him. "Shut up don't you even talk to me!" He hissed. "Spy! Traitor!" The man told him he was mistaken. Gordie hit him again. This time, the man stumbled and fell. Gordie used the opportunity to tie his feet. He left them far enough apart that he could walk but not far enough for him to run. Not that he can run anyway with Gordie holding his hands this way.

After what seemed like a long time, they came upon a small clearing with a cabin at the edge. The Cong don't even know this place exists. His unit will meet them here. In the meantime, he had to make sure this S.O.B. stayed put. Gordie knew just how to do that. Just outside the door of the cabin was a tree that would serve his purpose nicely. Taking a long piece of rope out of his backpack, Gordie knotted one end and threw it over a branch, sliding it down until it caught in the V where two branches met. Pulling the knotted end toward him, he quickly and efficiently attached it to the rope that was around the man's wrists. Pulling the rope lifted the man until all of his weight was being born on his shoulders and his toes were just brushing the ground. There, that would hold him until morning. With that, Gordie went into the cabin and lay on his bunk. Tomorrow, his unit will meet him here and they can interrogate this traitor. Gordie slept.

Kevin knocked on the door and his knock pushed it open. That was odd. "Mr Mulder?" No answer. Maybe he was in the bathroom or something. Kevin left the pizza on the dresser nearest the door. He wrote a note on the back of the bill and left it tucked into the edge the box, knowing that Mulder would pay for it before he left town. He was curious but felt that it would be intrusive to investigate further. There were lots of reasons a person might not be at the door when the pizza comes. He probably left the door open so Kevin could get in. Probably meant to leave the money and forgot. He left, closing the door behind him.

Without a word, Gordon took a piece of rope from the backpack he always carried and knotted one end. He threw the knotted end over a branch and caught it. Pulling it down, he retied the knot together with the rope around Mulder's wrists. With a sinking feeling, Mulder realized what he intended to do, hoping that Gordon wasn't strong enough to accomplish it. He was. Pulling the free end of the rope, he easily lifted Mulder's weight off his feet. With a start, Mulder realized he was whistling. Yankee Doodle Dandy. The pain in his shoulders was agonizing already. His feet were just barely brushing the ground. Tying the rope around an adjacent tree, Gordon turned and walked into the shack. He hadn't said a word since they reached the clearing.

Scully slowly dragged herself from the depths of sleep. Her back felt slightly better but the drugs had taken their toll on her head. She felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls. Easing out of bed, she headed for the bathroom. A few minutes later, face washed and teeth brushed, she felt a little more human. She dressed in her jeans and a sweatshirt. As she turned to the mirror to brush her hair, the bedside clock caught her eye. 9:30?? Why would Mulder let her sleep so long? Maybe he fell asleep himself. She went into his room. Empty. Peculiar but not necessarily frightening. Then she noticed the pizza on the dresser. It was stone cold. How odd that he would order pizza and then not wake her up and not even eat it. She plucked the bill from the box and saw the note on the back of it.

"7:30 p.m. You weren't here when I got here. I know you'll pay the bill tomorrow. Enjoy!" It was signed "Kevin"

The significance of the time finally sank in. Mulder was gone at 7:30 and he was still gone at 9:30. Totally unable to come up with an explanation, Scully began to worry that something had happened to him. To be certain, she checked the bathroom. Then she looked around the room carefully. Mulder's weapon was in its holster on the night table. The car keys were beside it. He obviously hadn't taken the car. His jacket was hanging on the back of the chair. His running shoes were gone. His room key was on the dresser beside the pizza. Where would he have gone without his jacket? Where would he have gone without telling her, or at least leaving her a note? Obviously, wherever he had gone, he hadn't intended to stay very long. Maybe he just got locked out. Why wouldn't he call her to let him in?

Scully put on her running shoes and her jacket and, tucking her room key and Mulder's in her pocket, went to the motel office, in case he had left a message for her there. The clerk hadn't seen him all evening. She went next door to the diner, thinking he had perhaps gone there. They, too, had not seen him all evening. Wracking her brain for an explanation, she headed back to her room. She was becoming very afraid that something was seriously wrong. Either Mulder had stepped out for a short time and something had happened to him, or he had been taken from the room against his will.

Scully paced. She had no idea where to begin looking for him. When he had not returned by 11:00, she called the sheriff. The sheriff and a deputy arrived at the motel ten minutes later. Scully explained the situation, emphasizing the fact that Mulder would not go anywhere for an extended period of time without telling her. She pointed out the facts that his weapon and jacket were still here, the car was still here and he had ordered pizza but was gone when it got here, showing them the note from Kevin.

The sheriff and his deputy exchanged a look that she didn't quite understand. "Don't you worry, little lady, he probably just wandered off, got lost. We'll drive around a bit and watch out for him." Again the look. This time there was an unmistakable smirk on both faces.

"What?" exclaimed Scully "What is that look?" Getting no response, she said angrily "What, exactly, is it you are not telling me?"

At her tone of voice, the sheriff's smirk left his face. He stumbled a little over the words "There are times when a man wants..... well, a man goes places he doesn't exactly want his lady to know about."

Scully was very tempted to rip this man's head off. Their relationship was none of his business and she had no intention of enlightening him. "I am not 'his lady', I am his partner!" So much for intentions.

"All the more reason for him not to tell you, I figure." This from the deputy, who seemed to find the whole situation amusing.

"What are you saying? That you think he's gone with a hooker?" Scully was getting angry now. "Well..." drawled the sheriff "...we don't exactly condone it, but if a man has a need and the lady is available...." From the look on Scully's face, he guessed that this would be a good subject to drop. "We'll go drive around and see if we can spot him. If he shows up the meantime, make sure you call and let us know." With a fatherly pat on her shoulder, he put his hat back on and turned toward the door, the deputy following. Over his shoulder, he said "I wouldn't worry if I was you, little lady, he'll probably turn up any minute."

Scully was furious. She had no idea where to start looking for Mulder and she could see that the sheriff would be no help. She picked up the phone and dialed. A slightly groggy voice answered on the second ring. "Sir? It's Scully. I'm sorry to bother you, I know it's late but something's happened."

Skinner was suddenly very alert. "What's happened?" He hadn't missed the slight hitch in her voice. He didn't interrupt as Scully told him the situation. She pointed out the attitude of the sheriff, indicating that she was pretty sure there would be no real help from that avenue. "Agent Scully" he said as calmly as he could "we have a snowstorm here and everything is grounded. I'll have a chopper in the air just as soon as it's safe to take off. The storm is beginning to wind down, it shouldn't be more than a couple of hours. In the meantime, try to relax. We'll be there by morning."

Gordon had been in the shack for some time and Mulder knew he had to do something. His shoulders wouldn't be able to take this strain much longer. He pulled up on his aching shoulders and was able to turn himself just a bit, enough that he thought if he could raise one leg, he could reach the trunk of the tree with it. He tried and found that he could reach it but he couldn't get any leverage. His shoe slipped off the bark and the sudden movement sent him swinging. The pain in his shoulders was excruciating and he had to wait until the movement stopped and he could get his breath again. He focused his mind on the pain, trying to block it out, as he had been taught to do many years ago. He struggled to push his shoes off of his feet, taking the chance that he could get some traction with his bare feet. He was glad he hadn't worn socks he never would have been able to remove them like this.

After what seemed like an hour, he had managed to remove both shoes. Once again he carefully reached for the trunk, trying to avoid swinging. He found if he moved his feet only an inch or two and moved slowly, he was able to 'walk' part way up the tree. His goal was the branch that was just below the one he was tied to. It was about 5 feet off the ground. If he could get his feet over it, he may be able to hoist himself up onto it. It was a long shot, but what else did he have to do? He was making some progress, increasing the strain on his shoulders with each small step.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement just a fraction of a second before his world exploded. In the instant before the pain, he saw Gordon swinging something at him. He had no time to react. Blackness descended.

He almost regained consciousness for a few seconds, only to sink back into the darkness.

Gordie awoke with a start. His mind is so alert to any noise that the smallest of sounds is a warning. Listening carefully, he hears the tiniest scraping sound. Without making a sound of his own, he got up from his bunk and crept to the doorway. He picked up the piece of 2 x 4 that he keeps by the door. Where the hell is my rifle? I had it when I laid down. Why can't I remember stuff? There's that noise again. Duane was supposed to be keeping watch, maybe it's just Duane doing something.

Gordie stepped out into the clearing. It was full dark now. The moon shining through the canopy provided all the light he needed. The prisoner was still tied to the tree but now he was working his feet up the trunk toward the branch he was tied to. If he gets his feet up there, he can get himself out of there. I can't let that happen. Where's Duane? Why isn't he watching this S.O.B.?

Two big steps brought Gordie within reach of the prisoner. He swung the board with all the strength born of a youth raised on a farm. A resounding crack and the traitor was once again hanging by his hands. His lower leg was bent at a peculiar angle, his head was hanging down and he was swinging like a pendulum from the branch. Bet he won't try that again.

"Don't try that again!" Gordie whispered. The board swung again and connected with the spy's ribs. Not a sound came from him. Maybe he was dead.

"You better not be dead" warned Gordie, pushing his head up with the end of the 2 x 4. The man's head lolled back, his eyes slits with only the white showing. A shuddering breath and a small whimper told Gordie that he was still alive but it was obvious that it would be useless to try to get him to talk now.

Gordie went back to the cabin and lay down on his bunk, surprised to see that his rifle was nowhere near. He always slept with it on the floor beside his bunk. Duane probably has it.

Scully sat, then stood up. She ran her hands through her hair for the hundredth time. She lay on Mulder's bed, only to rise a minute later. She paced. At 2 a.m. she ate a slice of the pizza. It sat in her stomach like a rock. She tried to think. She tried not to think. She had never felt so helpless. The phone rang. She got to it before the second ring. "Yes?" anxious, afraid.

"Agent Scully? Skinner. Any word yet?"

"Nothing, sir. I haven't heard from the sheriff, either."

"Scully, I'm sorry. We can't get a chopper off the ground yet. I have Agents Brown and Dobson standing by. We'll get there as soon as we can. If you hear anything, call me. I'll let you know when we're leaving." Skinner paused, hearing nothing on the other end of the phone. "Agent Scully, are you there?"

"Yes sir. Thank you sir" Scully was so angry and frustrated and so very frightened, that was all she could manage to say. Her free hand ran through her hair again.

Skinner heard the tears in her voice. If this sheriff was as patronizing as she described him, tears would be the last thing that would help. He spoke quietly, not wanting to upset her any further. "We'll get there, Scully. We'll find him. In the meantime, you have to tough it out." He took a deep breath, waiting for a response. Getting none, he continued, "If the locals are going to be any help to you, you'll have to take charge. Pull rank on them. Get tough with them."

Get tough. She had to get tough. Easier said than done. Taking a deep breath, making her voice as steady as she could, she replied "You're right sir. I'm okay. It's just that the waiting is so hard."

"I'll get there as soon as I can." Scully gently hung up the phone. Her long sleep earlier made it virtually impossible to sleep now. A wry smile touched her lips. "At least my back doesn't hurt any more," she said to no one. She turned on the television, not knowing or caring what was on. Lying face down at the wrong end of the bed, she finally let the tears come. Wrenching sobs wracked her body.

Gordie awoke at dawn. His keen hearing detected no other presence. He got up from his bunk and went outside the cabin. His prisoner was still right where he had left him. The traitor was apparently awake, or at least partly. His head was rolling from side to side and he was groaning slightly. The jeans the man was wearing were wet.

"Lookit the baby, peed his pants" Gordie crooned. "Guess we can fix that, can't we?" With that, he unbuttoned the man's pants and pulled them off, along with his shorts. The traitor's left leg was hugely swollen and bent unnaturally below the knee. His foot was nearly black. Bet that hurts. Serves him right. Gordie touched the leg with one index finger, receiving a groan in reward. That's what you get for screwing with the American army.

Gordie returned to the cabin and retrieved his knife. Placing it at the man's throat, he cut through his t-shirt. He cut through the sleeves and tossed the shirt on the ground with the jeans. One side of the man's chest was brilliantly purple.

Well, time to make this S.O.B. talk. Gordie went a short way into the woods. He spied a young tree that would do just fine, thank you. Whistling, he used his knife to cut a thin branch. Stripping the leaves off the branch, testing it a few times, the satisfying whistle as it whipped the air. Daddy introduced him to the switch a long time ago and it's something he's not going to forget. A switch just might do the job here. This traitor is a coward, a slug, a baby, a thief, stealing away the lives of red-blooded Americans and by God, Gordie would find out all he needed to know or the man would die.

Entering the clearing from behind the prisoner, Gordie made no sound until he whipped the switch across the man's back. Let's let him know we mean business before we start to question him. Without a word, he wielded the switch again and again across the man's legs, back, chest, arms. There were fifty or more bright red welts on the man's body, half of them oozing blood, before Gordie spoke.

"I'm gonna go get something to eat now. You wait here and I'll be right back, then we'll talk." Inside the cabin, Gordie moved a curtain aside to reveal hundreds of cans of food and dozens of jugs of water. Choosing a can and retrieving a jug, he carefully closed the curtain.

A few minutes later, Gordie again entered the clearing and approached the prisoner. Standing quietly, watching for signs of consciousness and seeing none, he put down the can he was eating from and picked up the jug. Shoot, he ain't no good to me asleep. Whistling quietly again, he poured the entire jug of water into a pail and threw the pail of water over the unconscious man. With a start and a strangled cry, the man regained consciousness. Much better. It's just cold enough out here that this should keep him awake for a while.

He was floating. Images flashed through his fevered brain. There was no pain, no sensation of any kind. He was cold. He was tired. A sudden warmth flooded his leg, then cold again, and colder. He drifted in and out of a state of almost-consciousness. He struggled to drag himself back. Becoming aware of the pain. Agony. He drifted away again. He was in water. How did he get here? Something was holding his arms, pulling him. Something a shark? had his leg. He was cold and tired. He couldn't let go, couldn't get his leg away from the shark. What was happening to him? Who was doing this to him? He was being dragged, had no strength to struggle. He was on the hooked end of a fishing line. He was the bait. Bait. Fishbait. With a sudden awareness, he was fully conscious, fully aware of what had happened, where he was. Aware of the pain. His shoulders, his chest, his leg. Oh God, the pain was unbearable. His mind shut down completely.

A quiet voice brought him half-way back to reality.

"Lookit the baby, peed his pants" then the pants were gone. A hammer blow to his tortured leg brought him the rest of the way to consciousness. With a groan, he slipped away again. The voice disappeared. In the distance he could hear whistling. Yankee Doodle Dandy. He recognized the sound, knew that he should know who that was. He was too tired, couldn't think. He was hot. He struggled to become aware of his surroundings. He was cold. He was naked. How did that happen?

Suddenly, a snapping sound and a whole new pain. Over and over again, until he could no longer feel the blows. He could hear them. No sound except the whistle and snap, over and over again. The sound stopped. He couldn't tell if the blows had stopped or if he had just lost his hearing, too. God, he was tired. Then a sound crept through the fog that was choking his brain. Someone was speaking. Something about eating.

"You wait here.......... talk" Wait here? Couldn't he go wait somewhere warmer? Silence, then. Floating in space, drifting. Images cascading through his mind. His mom, his dad, Scully. Oh God, what was Scully doing now? She must be frantic. He tried to say her name but the effort was too much. A tear made it's way down his cheek, a little streak of fire in a frozen world. He was gone again.

The shock of the water hitting him brought him fully awake. A cry escaped him, sending lightening bolts of pain through his battered chest. Cold, freezing cold, numbing some of the pain, keeping him conscious.

Scully awoke Sunday morning, surprised to find that she had fallen asleep. She was disheveled and felt grubby. Her throat was raw and her chest ached. The pillow she had been lying on was still wet with her tears. She got up and went into the bathroom. Looking in the mirror she was startled to see herself. Her eyes were swollen and red, her face tear-streaked and her hair was a mess. She spoke to her reflection, "Get tough, Scully. You can't take charge looking like this." She was determined to present a tough front to the sheriff. Whatever it took, she would force him to take some action.

With her fear and anxiety in check, she undressed and got into the shower. The hot water relaxed her in spite of herself and by the time she had finished showering and dressing, her tough front was firmly in place. Six a.m. She knew she needed to eat. Fainting would not make a very tough impression. With a look at the pizza, she decided to go to the diner. First, she would call the sheriff and see if anything had developed.

"Sheriff Wardell, Agent Scully here."

"Yes ma'am, you're up early. Sleep well?"

"Not at all, as a matter of fact. Did you find anything of note?" She could barely keep the contempt out of her voice. She got exactly the answer she expected.

"No ma'am, nothing seems to be out of order at all. But don't worry, I'm sure your friend will turn up today."

Scully hung up the phone, afraid he would tell her not to "worry her little head about it". She would have to tear his head off, then. No doubt about it, the man was a jackass.

Entering the diner, she noticed only one other customer. She ordered breakfast, knowing that she would have to force herself to eat it. If the sheriff wasn't going to investigate, she would have to. She made a mental list of what she was going to do. The first order of business would be to talk to Kevin Ling. He was possibly the last person to have seen Mulder and she needed to establish a time frame. Next she would talk to the other motel guests, the staff, anyone she could find who may have been on the street at the time he disappeared.

She felt better for having a plan of action, however feeble it seemed to be, and for having eaten, regardless of the fact that she hadn't tasted any of it, hardly remembered eating it, in fact. She wouldn't be able to talk to Kevin until the store opened, unless she could find out from someone where he lived. In a place this size, someone was bound to know. At the cash register on her way out, she asked the waitress if she knew where the Lings lived.

"Yes, ma'am. They live in that red brick house right next to the big white one with the trees on the lawn. They have a white car and a green truck in the driveway. They'll be up now, they'll be opening the store soon." Scully looked at the wall clock. 6:45 was a helluva time to knock on someone's door but she just couldn't sit and do nothing any longer. She had to start somewhere.

His body was just one giant pain. There was no way to distinguish one pain from another. They all blended together. He tried to separate himself from the pain but it was too big. He tried to close his mind to it and only partially succeeded. Despite the cold, self preservation kept him unconscious for most of the time. He had no idea how much time had passed. He knew that his moments of lucidity were short and infrequent. He drifted away.

The voice dragged him back. It was saying something about church. He couldn't respond, didn't know what was expected of him. "You ready to talk now? I'll cut you down if you want to talk." This he understood perfectly. What he didn't understand was what he was supposed to talk about. He opened his eyes as much as he could and tried to speak. All that came out was a grunt and that caused such a rush of pain in his chest he wasn't able to stay conscious.

Some time later, he had no way of knowing how much time, someone offered him food. At least, that's what he thought was happening. He thought about pizza.

Drifting, floating, consciousness a fleeting moment in this unreal existence, he had no way of knowing whether what he thought he heard or saw was real or just his fevered imagination. He was cold and he was hot but mostly he just hurt. This wasn't real, he didn't exist. Nothing existed but the pain. He was the pain and the pain was him. It was killing him and he couldn't live without it. The voice was before him again. He understood nothing of what it said, didn't know if it was a real person or a disembodied voice, didn't know if it was speaking English. Suddenly, cold water poured down on his head, bringing him fully awake. He gasped and the pain shot through his body, dragging a groan from his very soul. Merciful blackness, then.

Gordie sat against a tree in the single patch of sunlight that filtered through to the clearing. If he was back home right now, he'd be dragging his sorry butt to church, under threat of a whipping if he didn't. "Hey, traitor," he called softly "bet you don't go to church, do you? No way, God would strike you dead if you dared show up there." Funny, he hated going to church when he had to go. He misses it now.

The prisoner's head had fallen forward on his chest again. His left foot was swollen to triple its size. His naked body was covered in welts and cuts and bruises, drying blood covering a major portion of it. Serves him right. Traitor. "You ready to talk now? I'll cut you down if you want to talk." The man's head moved and slits appeared where his eyes should be. A grunt was his only reply. "Have it your way, then. When the rest of the guys get here, you'll talk."

Gordie rested his head against the tree and closed his eyes for just a minute. When he opened them, the patch of sunlight had shifted and he found that he was hungry. Unfolding himself from his position, he shook the kinks out and went into the cabin. He came out with a can of beans, eating directly from the can with a spoon. It was cold today. He wished, briefly, that he could make a fire but it would be too easily spotted by the enemy. He stood before his prisoner. The man's eyes became almost visible again. "Want something to eat?" Gordie was teasing him with the food. "No? Well, you may want to eat later" and he turned his back, returning to the cabin.

This time he came out with a jug of water and his backpack. He placed the backpack carefully against the tree and carried the water over to the prisoner. "Hey, spy" he whispered. "You smell bad, you need a wash." With that, he reached up and poured the water over the man's head. The sharp intake of breath and a drawn-out groan amused him. Chuckling, he moved to the tree where he had left his pack. He sat down and pulled out a sketch pad and a drawing pencil. Looking at it, he lapsed into an almost trance-like state and began to draw. The pencil seemed to move by itself as an image of the man hanging from the tree developed on the page. Gordie tucked the picture and the supplies back in his pack and dozed, leaning against the tree.

Scully had found the Lings' house without difficulty. As promised, they were already up. Mrs. Ling invited her in for coffee and called Kevin to talk to her. They were all very co-operative and concerned but, unfortunately, had little to tell her. Kevin knew that Mulder had called to order the pizza at 7:00 but had no real proof that he had called from the motel. Scully was sure that he had and could now be fairly certain that Mulder had left the room, one way or another (she didn't want to think about the other) between 7:00 and 7:30. She had talked to a dozen people in the area of the motel and no one had seen anything notable. Everyone she talked to was more than happy to help her if they could but they didn't have any useful information to offer. She had no sense that this was any kind of conspiracy. These people were genuinely nice people who really wanted to help.

By 1:00, she discovered that she was hungry. She had been walking around town all morning. It was time to sit and think about other possibilities. Heading toward the diner, she heard a sound in the distance. Unlike the other people who heard it, she recognized it instantly as the sound of a helicopter. In a matter of minutes the chopper came into view. She watched it circle, looking for a place to land and followed it with her eyes as it came down in the field directly across the highway from the motel. Lunch temporarily forgotten, she headed toward the chopper, noting that quite a few people were watching it's progress.

Skinner exited the chopper and came toward her. She looked haggard. He wanted to give her a supportive hug but settled for taking both of her hands in his for a few seconds. The message was received. He introduced Agents Brown and Dobson. Scully suggested they all go to the diner and discuss the situation over lunch, to which the three men agreed. Brown suggested they check into the motel first and get rid of their bags. Dobson returned to the chopper to inform the pilot of the plan. Scully noticed that, now that it was still, several people had approached the chopper out of curiosity. The pilot was busy explaining something to a teenaged boy. He seemed to be happy to do that.

At the motel, Skinner booked three rooms, explaining that the pilot would be staying, rather than returning to Washington. The weather was still stormy in DC and they didn't want to take the chance that he wouldn't be able to get back when they needed him.

By the time they got to the diner, it was well past lunch time and they were the only people there. As soon as they had ordered, Scully immediately launched into a detailed account of her activities that morning and the disappointing lack of results. Through lunch, they discussed the possibilities. The other agents felt that they needed to look around and get their bearings. None of them really had any concrete ideas but they were confident that something would turn up to point them in the right direction.

"What I can't understand is, in a place where everyone knows everyone and everyone pays attention, why didn't anyone see him leaving the motel?" Just then the waitress approached the table to clear the dishes away.

"Maybe he went out the back" she said quietly. Scully looked up, startled. "Sorry, I heard part of what you were saying. I didn't mean to butt in."

Dobson quickly spoke up. "No, that's fine. What did you mean about going out the back?"

"Well, the back parking lot faces the woods on two sides. If someone went out that way, no one at the front would even see him."

The agents looked at each other, mentally smacking themselves. Skinner regained his composure quickly and said "Thank you very much, that's something we'll have to look into."

"Well, I hope he's alright. He's a nice guy." Turning away, she winked at Scully "and cute."

Gordie heard a sound. It was far away but he would know that sound anywhere. Choppers. He looked over at the prisoner. Still unconscious. Good. He could stay that way for a while. He has to know if the choppers are ours or theirs. He followed the sound. North of here. Gordie slung his pack over his shoulder and headed toward the sound, creeping through the woods. At the edge of the woods, he lay on the ground, watching the chopper land. It looks like one of ours. Not taking any chances. Wait. Watch.

The sight of the chopper blade slowing and the whine of the motor winding down had a mesmerizing effect. Gordie drifted.

In a vague, confused state, Gordon rose and stepped out of the woods. Slowly becoming aware of his surroundings, he wondered how he got here. He wondered why there was a helicopter in Hansen's corn field. He hated that this happened to him. He had no idea where he had been or how much time had passed. He wished there was someone he could ask but no one in town seemed to notice anything amiss. The couple of times he had delicately broached the subject of his 'lost time' it had been shrugged off. He knew that he had trouble thinking clearly sometimes. That was because of the head injury he had suffered years ago. Maybe Josie would understand. She was a nice lady and she took care of him when he needed help. Maybe he could talk to her about this. He headed for the rooming house. Glancing at the clock on the bank, he noticed it was 4:00. But what day was it?

Scully, Skinner, Brown and Dobson had been to the sheriff's office. A deputy listened to their story and explained that Sheriff Wardell wouldn't be in the office until midnight. His casual attitude toward Mulder's disappearance was aggravating in the extreme. He just refused to take it seriously. He drew Skinner aside and told him that they were pretty sure he was off with a streetwalker, who had also not been seen since yesterday. "When we suggested that to his lady friend, well, she didn't like the idea." It was all Skinner could do to keep his hands off the man's throat.

"I am staying at the motel here, in room 22. Have the sheriff drop by as soon as he gets in." With that, the four of them turned and left the office without another word. They had met in Skinner's room and set up their laptops. After a short discussion on the tasks needing done, each of them set about gathering the information they hoped would lead to something.

By 9:00, the agents had all the information the FBI could garner on each and every person who had been anywhere near the motel in the last three days. There wasn't much. It was apparently a popular stopping place for salesmen and travelers. There had been a total of 32 visitors to the motel since Thursday. All but 8 of them had moved on after one night. The FBI had no information on most of them. Military records, police records, employment records, DMV records had all been checked. One of them had a police record and he was being checked out even as they gathered in Skinner's room. They had nothing that indicated any of these people had any reason to harm Mulder, but every one of them would be tracked down and questioned. Skinner and Brown were on the phones arranging for that to happen, passing information on to 12 different law enforcement agencies.

Every hospital and morgue withing 200 miles had been checked with no positive results. They were currently waiting for the Census Office to come back with a list of all of the residents of Fishbait so that they could begin their search all over again.

Agent Dobson approached Scully, standing by the window, looking out into the darkness. He stood beside her, hands in his pockets, for a moment before he spoke quietly. "I don't know Mulder all that well, but I have talked to him a few times. I know how much he cares about you and I know he wouldn't have gone anywhere without letting you know."

Without looking at him Scully said, just as quietly, "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

Chagrined, Dobson answered "No, I'm sorry. I just wanted to assure you that all of this really is necessary."

"I know" Scully said this so quietly that Dobson could barely hear her.

"We're doing everything we can. We'll do a door-to-door tomorrow. If that stupid sheriff and his idiot deputies don't want to help, we can have this burg swarming with real cops by noon. Skinner already has the state police on standby and there are 12 agents in the local field office we can drag over here." He withdrew one hand from his pocket and placed it gently on her shoulder. "We'll find him, Agent Scully."

Scully finally looked up at him. "Thank you, Agent Dobson."

"Why don't you go try to get some sleep? I know that isn't easy, but we are going to need to be alert tomorrow." Scully turned and walked away with a nod.

Skinner watched the exchange with interest. He couldn't hear what was said but he could see it was of some comfort to Scully. Dobson had been a good choice.

The pain was never-ending. A welcome numbness had penetrated his shoulders and arms. He felt nothing. He heard nothing. His eyes would no longer open. He struggled to hang on to consciousness, without knowing why he wanted to. He found himself elevated, floating, looking down at himself. He saw himself hanging by his wrists, his left leg hardly recognizable as part of a body. It looked like a dead animal attached to him. His body was covered with cuts, bruises, blood. He felt no pain. He wasn't cold. He felt sheltered, protected, warm, comfortable, happy. It was easy to let go, just drift away to that warm place, to the arms that waited to hold him. Floating further and further from the scene of his demise, he let go.

"Mulder." He heard his name spoken aloud by the one voice he could hear

through space and time, into another dimension. "Mulder, hold on." Scully. " I'm coming, Mulder."

"No!!" the shout echoed through his head. "I will not die! Not now, not like this!" The sounds that escaped his mouth were raspy, distorted, unintelligible. In his head, they were shouts. He felt himself falling, clinging to life, forcing his brain to function enough to open his eyes. Scully.

No one was there. Not Scully, not Gordon. The clearing was empty. With his remaining consciousness he forced himself to look around, trying valiantly to shrug off the pain that resulted. It was fully dark and Gordon Chester was nowhere to be seen. He had no idea how long he had been alone.

"Please, Scully..." his mind called out "...hurry" Darkness descended over his fevered mind. This darkness would not end. Consciousness was beyond him now.

On her way out of the room, Scully stopped beside Skinner. Incapable of speaking without tears, she just took his hand and held it for a moment in both of hers. His other hand came to rest on her upper arm. "Good night, Scully" was all he could manage. He wished that he could be more comfort to her. As she released his hand, he was able to say "Call me if you need anything whatever time it is." Scully nodded and left the room. Without any hesitation, Agent Dobson followed her to the door and watched her walk to her room. At her door, she turned back and raised a hand to him. He waved back.

In her room, Scully barely had the energy to get changed into her pyjamas. She lay on top of the covers and was asleep in seconds.

She approached Mulder's apartment with some trepidation. She couldn't be sure that he even wanted to see her. They had had an argument that afternoon and she had been very short with him, very angry. A couple of hours at home alone had given her time to realize that she had been very unreasonable. Painfully examining her own motivation, she had come to understand that her anger and anxiety had nothing to do with him, that she had just taken it out on him because he was there. Her lifestyle choices were not his responsibility and her mistakes were not his fault. She heard Melissa's voice in her head, "Dana, you're being an idiot. Go to him. Work it out." So she went to him. After midnight and here she was, knocking on his door.

Mulder opened the door, saw her standing there, looking small and afraid. He drew her into the apartment and into his arms without a word. Her cheek pressed against his chest, his cheek resting on the top of her head, she began to cry. "Mulder, I'm sorry. I couldn't sleep, I had to talk to you. I'm so sorry." She looked up to see him smiling down at her.

"No problem, Scully, I wasn't sleeping anyway. You don't have to be sorry, I piss everybody off eventually. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and released her. Taking her coat and tossing it on the table, he led her to the couch and they sat. Scully leaned against him, her legs tucked up beside her, and he put his arm over her shoulder. They didn't talk for what seemed like a long time.

"Would you like to stay here tonight, Scully?" quietly, almost timidly.

"I thought you'd never ask." She stood then and reached for his hand. They walked to the bedroom. He reached into a laundry basket on the dresser and tossed her a t-shirt, knowing that she wasn't comfortable sleeping naked.

She spent the night curled up against him, his arms surrounding her, their legs entwined. She had never slept better.

The chill in her room finally penetrated her sleep and she got up, intending to get under the covers and go back to sleep. The clock on the night table read 3:40 a.m. She walked to the window and looked out across the parking lot to the woods. The words the waitress had said this afternoon came back to her. What if he had gone out the back? Where could he go that he wouldn't be seen? The answer was right before her. The woods. Maybe he did leave on his own and something had happened to him in the woods. As hard as she found it to believe that he would have left without telling her, she had to accept the possibility.

"Mulder." She wished he could hear her. "Mulder, hold on." God, please. "I'm coming, Mulder."

She was hesitant to call Skinner at this hour but he did say any time. Reflecting, she thought she would go and see the sheriff first, then call Skinner and fill him in. She was determined to get the co-operation she needed from the sheriff. Dressing quickly, she grabbed her jacket and headed for the door. Thinking about what Skinner would think if he came to her room and she was gone, she took a sheet of stationery from the night table and left a note: "4 a.m. gone to see the sheriff. meet me there."

She walked into the office ten minutes later. Sheriff Wardell was in his office and she didn't bother to wait for an invitation, just walked in.

"Hey there, little lady. What's got you up at this hour of the day?"

Scully was not interested in wasting time on pleasantries. "How far back does that woods go? What's in there? Has anyone searched it?"

"Whoa, now, hold on!" he exclaimed, no longer leaning back in his chair. "That woods covers a hundred acres. There's no way to search the whole thing. Your friend would have no reason to go in there, anyway. There are all sorts of critters in there that you don't want to stumble across at night. Couple people swear they've seen a cougar. Besides that, there are all kinds of gullies and holes and fallen trees. Hell, there's probably still bear traps out there. Nobody wants to go out there in the dark. When daylight comes, I'll get a couple of deputies and we'll go take a look."

"Sheriff, all of those things you've mentioned are all of the reasons that we can't wait until daylight."

"Just cool out for a minute. What you need to do, little lady, is go back to your room and wait there. We'll go out at first light and we'll let you know when we get back."

"I'm going out there with you."

"'Fraid not, little lady. Too dangerous."

"Because I'm a woman." It was not a question. Scully turned her back, not expecting any reply. She heaved a sigh of resignation. Her hands went to her hair for the umpteenth time since meeting this man. As she brought her arms down, her right hand eased under her jacket at her back. All in one motion, she drew her weapon, spun around and pointed it directly at the chest of the man sitting at the desk.

"Now I'm a woman with a gun." Her voice was quiet and intense. She lowered the gun slightly. "And you will be a eunuch in about 30 seconds if I don't start getting some co-operation."

The sheriff flicked a glance over her shoulder at the same instant she heard a sound she recognized. Without taking her eyes off the man in the chair, she addressed the man standing behind her. "You are about to shoot a Federal Agent in the back. You will have to answer for that." To the sheriff, she said "Even if he hits dead on, it will take me at least 30 seconds to fall. I can empty this clip in thirty seconds and blow your nuts to hell." She paused just long enough for that image to sink in. "Tell your deputy to holster his weapon." She was speaking so quietly that her shouted "NOW!" caused both men to flinch. The sheriff nodded to the deputy and she heard the weapon slide into the holster. Scully had no doubt that his hand was still on the butt and he was ready to use it. Her own weapon went back to it's place and she stepped closer to the sheriff. Her hand shot out and grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him half out of the chair. With ice in her voice and fire in her eyes, she got right in his face, speaking slowly and clearly. "I am a Federal Agent. My partner is a Federal Agent. He did not 'wander off' and he is not engaging the services of a hooker. I am going to find him, you are going to help me and, if you call me 'little lady' one more time, I will hurt you. Do I make myself clear?" With that, she pushed him back into his chair and let go of his shirt, waiting for an answer.

The sheriff did not like to be intimidated and he was more than a little embarrassed to be bested by a woman and a little one, at that. Especially in front of his deputy. He did, however, grow up with three older sisters and he could clearly see the wisdom in agreeing with this human dynamo before him. He cleared his throat and said "Yes, ma'am, perfectly clear." His relieved sigh was barely audible as Scully stepped back.

"Now," she said quietly, "I will call my other agents and you will call all the deputies you can contact. You will scrounge up all of the flashlights you can find and we will go search that woods." Ten seconds hesitation on his part and she took one step toward him. "Do it now!"

She didn't stop long enough to hear his "Yes, Ma'am!" but left his office to go back to the motel.

From her room, she called Skinner. His voice was clear, without a trace of sleep. "I'm sorry to bother you Sir..."

"What is it Scully?"

"I've just been talking to the sheriff and he's getting together a search party to search the woods behind us. I was thinking about it and it makes sense that the only direction he could have gone without being seen is back into the woods."

"What time is it now?"

"It's ... um ..." reaching for the clock, "4:37"

"Okay, give me a few minutes. I'll get Brown and Dobson. We'll meet at your room in 15. We should be able to get organized and get out there by daylight." A brief pause, and then "Scully?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Exactly how did you finally get the sheriff to help us here?"

"I had to get tough."

"Good for you." Skinner was smiling as he hung up the phone. Scully getting tough was a force to be reckoned with. He was glad they were on the same side.

Gordon Chester was worried. He still had no recollection of events for the last two days but he had found something very disturbing in his backpack. A sketch he was pretty sure was one of his own. It was of a man, hanging by his hands from a tree. He looked dead. My God, what had he done? He was tempted to destroy it but he was afraid to. Something had happened. Someone had mentioned that a man was missing from the motel and he was very afraid that it was the man in the sketch.

He decided he needed to go to the sheriff. He had to know what he had done, regardless of the consequences. It wasn't easy sneaking out of Josie's house at 4:15 a.m. but he had done it before. He walked toward the sheriff's office, arriving just as that red-headed woman came out. It was the man she came with who was missing. On an impulse, he waited for her to walk away, then passed the sheriff's office and went straight to the motel. He didn't allow himself to get too close. He didn't want to frighten her.

From half a block away, he watched as she went around the back of the motel. A flash of memory assaulted him but he pushed it away. Giving her time to get into her room, he went around the building in her wake. There were lights on in just one room. That must be her room. As he crept toward the door, lights came on in another room just a few doors down from hers.

Knowing, now, what he was going to do, he carried on to the room he believed was hers. Part way there, he picked up two stones. In front of her door, he spread out the sketch ,upside down, on the step and used the two stones to hold it open. He knocked on her door and then hurried away around the side of the building. He came out at the front, crossed the street and went behind the gas station. He made his way carefully back to Josie's knowing that, soon enough, they would be coming to get him. He prayed that the man was alive.

Scully heard a knock on the door. Expecting Skinner, she opened the door. There was no one there. Looking around, something on the ground caught her eye. It was a paper, clearly put there for her to find. She picked it up and turned it over. She had to hang on to the door to keep from falling down. There was no point in trying to catch the person who left it there, it had taken her too long to find it, the person would be long gone.

Just then, Skinner exited his room and walked toward hers, Dobson and Brown close behind him. Standing in the light from her room, he could see her clearly from 30 feet away. He saw the look on her face and began to run. In seconds he was grasping her by the shoulders. "What is it, Scully? What's happened?"

Incapable of speech, she held out the sketch in a shaking hand. The other two agents arrived at the door just then and they all stepped inside. Scully was trying to shake the terror she was feeling. Succeeding just a little, she was able to tell them where the picture had come from. Skinner picked up the phone and dialed the sheriff's number. "Walter Skinner here" his voice dripped with authority. "Sheriff, we are on our way over there and you'd better have some people together because we are going to search the woods right now." He listened for a few seconds and then responded, his voice no softer, "Yes, something has happened and we are not prepared to wait. We will be there in a few minutes."

Hanging up the phone, he turned to his agents and said "Let's go." Urgent now. The four of them hurried out the door and nearly ran to the sheriff's office. There were five deputies and a few civilians milling about, not fully understanding what they were to do, just wanting to help.

Scully hung back as the others raced into the office. She thought she had seen movement in the shadows between the buildings. Remembering the man in the shadows the first night they were here oh God, was it only 2 days ago? she quietly backed down the stairs and moved toward the space beside the building.

"Gordon?" she called quietly. "Gordon Chester?" She got no reply but she didn't hear anyone moving away, either. "Gordon, I know that was your sketch and I need to talk to you. I need your help."

Gordon stepped part way out of the shadows. His head was hanging and his voice shook. "I don't know what happened. I don't know what I did."

"Just tell me where this is. Please? I just need to know where he is. Help me, Gordon. Please."

"It's in the woods" just barely a whisper.

"I know it's in the woods, Gordon," trying to be patient "can you tell me where in the woods? Can you show me where to go?"

"I don't want anyone else to know. I'm afraid I've done something horrible."

"I'll just get my boss, and you can take us both there, okay?" She wasn't sure what to make of this and couldn't be sure it wasn't an act designed to get her away from the others but she didn't want to lose an opportunity, either.

"Okay, I'll wait here, you go get him."

"Please don't go away, Gordon." She turned and ran up the stairs, nearly crashing into Skinner on his way out.

"Agent Scully, I was just coming to see where you were." Scully took his arm and pulled him away from the building.

"I have found someone who knows where he is." Skinner followed her toward the corner of the building. "He will show us, but only you and me. He's afraid."

Gordon stepped out of the shadows once again. Skinner didn't quite understand what was going on but followed Scully's lead unquestioningl y. "Give me two minutes to grab a couple of flashlights and make an excuse." Without waiting for a reply, he sprinted back to the door of the building. Returning in less than two minutes, he carried two flashlights. "I told them we had a lead we wanted to follow and they should carry on as planned." Handing one flashlight to Scully, he said, a little sheepishly, "I couldn't think of an excuse to take three flashlights."

"That's okay," Gordon said "two will be enough." With that, he went through the alley to the back of the convenience store. Cutting through parking lots and alleys, he brought them to the edge of the motel parking lot and turned toward the woods. "I don't know for sure, but I don't think it's very far" he said over his shoulder. Scully and Skinner hurried to keep up with him, trying to keep the lights on the path ahead of him. He seemed to know exactly where to step. Suddenly he stopped. Scully nearly ran into him.

Without turning around Gordon spoke to them in a tight voice. "I don't know what happened and I don't know why I know where to go. I'm sorry. Please just follow me. It isn't far now." He started off again, unerringly finding the easiest path. Within minutes, they broke through the underbrush into the clearing.

Scully and Skinner instantly took in the shack, the tree, the rope, Mulder. "MULDEROHMYGODMULDER!!" Fighting a sudden wave of nausea, Scully was nearly incoherent. Getting a grip on herself, she rushed forward and felt for a pulse. "He's alive. Barely."

"Let's get him down" Skinner was already reaching for him. Gordon went to the tree the rope was tied to.

"Wait!" Scully held up a hand to stop them. "Put your flashlight in that tree over there so we can see. We have to be very careful here. Don't let him fall, don't let his arms come down and don't let that leg touch the ground." Clearly in charge, she became all business. She suppressed the emotions that were churning inside her, ignored the aching in her heart. Something she had become good at. Both men followed her instructions, more than willing to let her take charge. "We have to bring him down slowly. Gordon, you untie the rope and hold him up. We'll lift him and you let the rope out. We'll lay him on the ground and then one of you will have to go for help."

"There's a blanket I'll get it." Gordon rushed into the shack and came out with a blanket. It wasn't very clean but it would do the job for now. They spread in on the ground.

Scully and Skinner stood on either side of the unconscious Mulder. Supporting his weight in their arms, they slowly raised him toward a horizontal position. Gordon eased the rope out, lowering him slowly until all of his weight was being supported. "I've got him, Scully, you get his leg" Skinner said, easily supporting Mulder's weight. They slowly moved away from the tree and lowered him gently to the blanket. Scully brought the sides of the blanket up and gently covered him. From her kneeling position, she looked up at Gordon. "Gordon, you have to go get help. We can't get him out of here ourselves."

Gordon hung his head "I can't," he whispered.

Scully got to her feet and approached him. She put her hand on his arm.

"Gordon, you can. You have to." Her eyes were pleading with his. "You can do this. No one is going to blame you. I don't blame you. Please, get help."

Skinner spoke up then. "I'll go with you, Gordon. We'll get what we need to get him out of here, but you're going to have to bring them back here, I don't know the way." Then, to Scully, "Will you be alright until we get back?" She nodded and looked at Gordon once more.

"Gordon?"

With a sigh, Gordon steeled himself. "Okay"

When they left, Scully kneeled beside Mulder on the ground. "Mulder, it's me. Please be able to hear me. You're going to be okay. We're going to get you out of here and you're going to be okay." She didn't notice the tears rolling down her face, she just had to reach him. Feeling for a pulse, finding it, she kept talking to him in a low soothing voice. Gently untying the rope from his wrists, she kept talking to him.

Pain. Indescribable, unbearable pain. Nothing else. Different pain. New pain. More pain. Feeling beginning to return to his tortured limbs. Numbness retreating. Pain taking over. Scully's voice, blanketing the pain, breaking into the darkness. Her soothing hands touching him. Loving hands. Healing hands. Can't move, can't open my eyes. Can't speak. I'm here, Scully. I love you. I won't die. Not here. Not now. Not like this. Hold me Scully. I'm scared. I hurt. Darkness descending. Soothing darkness. Healing darkness. Hold me, Scully.

Scully heard people crashing through the woods, shouting. It sounded like hundreds of people. Suddenly, there was light. Gordon stepped into the clearing, followed closely by Skinner, then a dozen people behind him. People rushed to her, to Mulder. Skinner stopped them with a raised hand and a shouted command. Someone had a portable stretcher. Someone had blankets. Everyone stood still in the sudden silence, flashlights pointing in every direction, turning the burgeoning dawn into full daylight. "Agent Scully is a doctor" Skinner announced to the group. "She knows best how to do this." His voice was stern. He was in command. "Please do exactly what she says."

"Bring the stretcher here." Two men stepped forward. One of them was Agent Dobson, the other was a deputy. "Put it down beside him, as close as you can get but not touching him." Scully was grateful for their help but there wasn't time just now to bring it up. Every minute counted now. When the stretcher was in place, she asked Brown and Skinner to help lift Mulder onto it. She held his fractured leg steady while they gripped the blanket. On a signal, they lifted slowly and the two men slid the stretcher under him. Scully took the blanket that someone had brought and gently laid it over him, tucking the corner under his leg. "Make sure you keep his arms over his head."

As Dobson and the deputy lifted the stretcher and prepared to move, Scully said "The rest of you people stand beside the stretcher. Don't let anything touch him on the way." The procession started back the way they had come when a voice came out of the darkness.

"Wait, not that way." The motel is closer. Take him there. Follow me.

Several people started at the tone of authority in Gordon's voice but no one questioned him. He led and they followed, keeping the branches away from Mulder's battered body. Flashlights lit up the path they were on so that no obstacle went unnoticed.

"Has anyone called an ambulance?" Scully asked.

"It's on the way from Manchester right now." It sounded like Sheriff Wardell but Scully didn't take her eyes off Mulder to find out.

"Who's got a cell phone?" Several affirmatives. "Call them back and tell them to come to the motel room 29". She heard the call being made. There was nothing to do now but get him to the motel and wait.

"They said they will be no more than 15 minutes."

They reached the motel room and Skinner rushed to open the door. Dobson and the deputy carried the stretcher in and carefully lowered it to the bed. "Do you want us to leave him on it?" Scully nodded. She looked around the room. Gordon was nowhere to be seen. Her eyes met Skinner's and silently begged. He understood.

Herding everyone from the room, he thanked them all for their help and promised to let them know how Mulder was faring in the next day or so. Catching the sheriff's attention, he motioned with his head to step away from the group. "You and I both know we all know that Gordon Chester did this. We don't know why and neither does he. The man needs help and I intend to see that he gets it. You have to see that he stays here until I can arrange that. If you have to put him in jail, do it. Don't let him disappear. Don't let this happen to someone else." The sheriff nodded and looked around. Not seeing Gordon, he spoke quietly to two deputies and they walked away.

The sun seemed to come up all at once, turning the sky a multitude of colours. The ambulance could be heard in the distance.

Two paramedics jumped from the back of the ambulance and gathered their equipment. Scully met them at the door. "He's already on a stretcher, just move it to the gurney. Don't try to put his arms down and be very careful of his left leg." After the fact, she thought to introduce herself.

Climbing into the ambulance after Mulder was in, Scully heard the driver on the radio to the hospital. "We have the patient and we have a doctor on board. Repeat: we do have a doctor on board."

Scully clearly heard the reply from the hospital "Do what the doctor says and we'll be ready for you when you get here." She began to issue instructions and noted with relief that the paramedics responded without question, as fast as she could give the orders.

Scully entered Mulder's ICU cubicle. He was still sedated and he looked so small and helpless with his casts and bandages and tubes and wires. His eyelids fluttered and opened for a second. A shuddering sigh escaped him and he drifted off again. She checked his chart and lovingly brushed his hair off his forehead. She gently kissed his cheek and backed out of the room. Sheriff Wardell was waiting in the hall with Skinner.

"How is he?"

Scully was tired. "Well, aside from two dislocated shoulders, four broken ribs, a bruised lung, liver and kidney, about a hundred superficial bruises, forty or fifty cuts and abrasions, massive soft tissue damage to his hands and foot, a raging fever and a major infection, all that's wrong with him is a seriously broken leg." Her voice caught in her throat. "He may lose his leg. We're very concerned about the possibility of gangrene." She was so tired, she wanted nothing more than to curl up beside him in his bed and sleep until he was better. "We are monitoring that very closely. If it becomes necessary, we will amputate. I hope it doesn't become necessary."

"Amen to that," Skinner said. Thank God for Skinner. He had sent Brown and Dobson back to Washington and had stayed. He had packed all of their things at the motel and had brought them to Manchester, and registered them in a hotel very near the hospital. He had filed a report and had taken a temporary leave of absence. He intended to stay until both Mulder and Scully could go home.

"As soon as we can, we are going to airlift him to Georgetown but that won't be for at least a week. I don't expect him to regain consciousness for at least a few days."

"Agent Scully" began Sheriff Wardell. Scully was surprised to hear her name and title coming from the man who, a few days ago, had dismissed her as a "little lady". Pays to get tough, I guess, she thought to herself.

"Yes, Sheriff?"

"I just wanted to apologize to y'all for not taking this seriously enough. I'm truly sorry." He was turning his hat in his hands, waiting for absolution.

Scully looked directly at him, letting him sweat a little before letting him off the hook. "Don't worry about it, Sheriff. I will settle for knowing you won't make the same mistake again."

"You can be sure of that, Ma'am."

Scully watched the two of them walk away. Two tall, slim, very attractive (and fully mobile) men there, and she had to fall for the guy in the body cast. She shook her head. Lord, she was tired. She could hardly remember back to when she'd had a good night's sleep. She sighed and returned to Mulder's bed. He seemed to be mostly casts and bandages. He looked a little like an unfinished sculpture. She smiled slightly at the memory of the doctor in Emergency saying he would need an "N to N" cast. Thinking he had said "end to end," she was puzzled. Seeing her expression, he had smiled widely "Neck to Navel" he explained. "With the MotoCross course here, we do a lot of these."

The hospital staff had been ready for him, as they had said they would. He was rushed in the door and several people in white ran forward. "Are you the doctor?" asked one. At her affirmative reply, the woman said "You'll need to clean up. Come with me." No judgement, just a simple statement of fact. Scully looked down to see that she was streaked with dirt and had leaves and other debris clinging to her in various places. On the way to the scrub room, the nurse informed her "We have an orthopedist and a surgeon standing by and an anesthesiologist waiting. There's an internist in the building we can call if we need him." At the door, she asked "Do you want a set of whites to wear?"

"Just a jacket will be fine" Scully had responded.

Washed and dressed and ready, the same nurse led her to where four people were standing over Mulder on a table. They quickly updated her on what they had concluded to that point. The orthopedist suggested they take him straight to an operating room. "Both of those shoulders are separated and I want to be ready if we have to go inside to set them." The other doctor informed her that his left leg and foot may be irreparable, describing the procedure he wanted to use in an attempt to save it. Best case scenario, a permanent limp. While he talked she looked at the leg. His foot was totally black, swollen to an unbelievable size not even recognizable as a foot if it hadn't been attached to a leg. While the three doctors discussed the case, the nurses were busy inserting tubes and wires. The position of his shoulders and the condition of his arms and hands made them inaccessible, the IV would have to be inserted elsewhere. Frustrated, one nurse exclaimed "He doesn't have anything that's not cut, bruised or broken." Working quickly, they soon had an IV line in his head and another in his right foot, an arterial line in his hip, a drainage tube in his nose, an oxygen supply tube taped to his upper lip, a breathing tube and a catheter. Everything hooked up and running, he was ready to be transferred to the operating room. It took three people to co-ordinate the gurney, IV stand, monitor, and Oxygen supply.

The next four hours weren't much more than a blur of activity. The doctors mutually decided that his shoulders needed to be taken care of first, to avoid further injury. His leg was iced and waiting. In a very short time, they had set both of his shoulders and had taped his arms down the cast would wait until the leg had been taken care of. It seemed like such a short time since they entered the OR that Scully was surprised to realize how long they had been working on him. Everyone agreed that things had gone well and his chances of recovery were very good.

Now he had a cast covering his entire upper body, another running from hip to ankle, bent slightly at the knee, his foot exposed and his leg elevated to relieve the swelling. The casts had to be replaced every couple of days. After four days, Mulder's foot was still black, although less swollen than it had been. Scully was concerned that it wasn't healing. She fervently hoped it would, and soon. Daily blood tests showed no signs of gangrene yet. Massive doses of antibiotics were having the intended effect. The infection was diminishing. It would take a long time.

As Scully stood over him, stroking his hair, Mulder's eyelids fluttered. As much as she wanted to look into those eyes, she knew it would be medically irresponsible to allow him to wake up now. Reluctantly, she injected the sedative that would take him back to the place where he could be safe and comfortable. Checking her watch, she made a note on the chart, reminding herself to inform the nurse that she had given him the sedative already.

Scully leaned over and let her lips brush his forehead and whispered "Sleep now, baby, and come back to me soon." Brushing a tear from her eye, she turned away too soon to see the single tear that rolled down and dropped onto his pillow. The nurse stood just outside the open curtain. Clearing her throat, she said "I just gave him his sedative. I put it on the chart."

"Thank you, doctor, I was just coming to do that." The ICU nurses liked this woman. A fiercely dedicated doctor, she brooked no indiscretion, tolerated no carelessness and still managed to treat the nurses with more respect than any other doctor they could name.

Scully handed Mulder's chart to the nurse and stepped out of the cubicle. She turned to find yet another tall good-looking man watching her. Were there no short, good-looking men around here? This one was wearing a black turtleneck and a white lab coat. The stethoscope in his pocket gave him away as either a doctor or a nurse. The air of superiority and the fact that he seemed to have nothing to do at the moment made it obvious. Doctor. Definitely a doctor. "Can I help you with something?" Scully was trying to be polite but it was hard to resist wiping that smirk off his face.

"Haven't seen you around here before. You a nurse, or just a visitor?"

Scully looked at him for a second. She hated assumptions like that. A woman, therefore a nurse. She couldn't have asked for a better interruption than the nurse at the station calling "Doctor Scully?" and holding a phone out to her.

"Excuse me." She said with a tight smile and stepped over to the phone.

"Scully, it's Skinner. Sorry to bother you but I wanted to let you know I'm going to be out for a while. I've made some calls and I'm going to make arrangements for Gordon Chester to be dealt with. I have to go to Lexington for the afternoon. I'll be back in time for a late dinner, if you're willing to wait."

"That's fine. Thanks for letting me know. I'll grab some lunch here at the hospital and then I'm going to try to get some sleep." I'll meet you at the hotel about seven?"

"I'll call you if I'm going to be any later."

"If I'm not at the hotel, I'll be here." She replied. Scully truly appreciated Skinner keeping her informed of his activities and whereabouts. She didn't think she could handle another mystery just now. She handed the phone back to the nurse with a smile. "Thank you very much. He may be calling back later. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all, Doctor." Her smile was bright and sincere.

Scully turned away from the desk to find the doctor still watching her with a smile. She stepped close to him and peered at his name tag. "What can I do for you, Doctor Singleton?"

"Well, you can start by having lunch with me, Doctor Scully." At her raised eyebrows, he had the grace to look a little embarrassed. "I heard you say you were going to grab some lunch. I'm headed that way myself and thought you might be willing to join me."

Scully shrugged one shoulder, "Sure, why not?"

Sitting at a table in the cafeteria, Andrew Singleton said "You have quite the bedside manner wouldn't mind being one of your patients." Scully wondered what had made her agree to have lunch with this man.

"Doctor Singleton..."

"Andrew, please. Or Andy, if you prefer."

"I really prefer 'Doctor'. The patient in ICU is a very close friend of mine. He has suffered an horrendously traumatic experience and several life-threatening injuries. I am here as his friend as much as I am his doctor." She was tired and her voice was flat. She didn't really care what this man thought of her but didn't want to offend him just the same. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to offend you, I am just incredibly tired and I don't have the energy to be sociable."

"No offense taken, I assure you. I didn't mean to imply anything. It's just been a long time since I've seen anyone take such an intense interest in a patient." His smile was charming and compassionate. "I would be happy to go over his case and cover for you if you need to go get some sleep. No offense, but you look like you could use it." Scully was a little surprised at what appeared to be a complete turnabout. "I'm here for the next 8 hours anyway, it wouldn't be hard for me to look in on him every now and then. I assume the nurses have a number where they can reach you. I promise I'll call if anything changes."

"Thank you, that is very kind of you." Scully could think of nothing else to say, except "I really do need to rest."

"It's settled, then. I'll let the ICU nurses know."

Lunch finished, they left the cafeteria. The hotel was only a few blocks away and she had walked over here in the morning. She decided to take a cab back. Singleton left her at the main lobby and headed back into the bowels of the hospital. Watching him walk away, Scully muttered to herself "and I had to fall for the guy in the body cast."

Rested and feeling better, Scully sat across the table from Skinner as he told her about his trip to Lexington and the arrangements that had been made for Gordon Chester.

"I should be able to hate him for what he did" she said quietly, "but I can't. We wouldn't have got to Mulder in time if it hadn't been for him."

"I've seen too many guys go through hell over and over, having flashbacks" Skinner replied. "He never meant to hurt Mulder, he was just caught in a time warp. He had no idea what he was doing. It's hard to blame him for that."

A short silence, both thinking their own thoughts, although Scully was pretty sure their thoughts were running along the same lines. She spoke hers. "Everybody knew and no one tried to do anything about it. They were all aware of his problem everybody but him. They got a kick out of his eccentricity. It never once occurred to them that he could be helped." Her eyes were shiny with unshed tears. Quietly "That's what I have trouble overlooking."

"Well, he's going to get the help he needs, now." Skinner said quietly. "He may be a long time coming to grips with what he's done but he'll be protected and so will everybody else." He reached across the table and touched her hand. She looked up at him. "Don't torture yourself. Let it go. Take care of Mulder now, he needs you more."

She looked at him for a full minute, not speaking, then "Would you like to go see a movie?"

Skinner withdrew his hand, sat back in his chair and laughed out loud. "Agent Scully, I would love to."

They walked back from the cinema in companionable silence. Skinner noticed Scully hugging herself. The temperature had dropped quite a bit in the time they had been inside. "Cold?" he asked.

"A little. I'm okay" Skinner took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders anyway. Hunching against the chill, he put both hands in his pockets.

"Chivalry isn't dead, it's just freezing." Scully smiled. Skinner smiled down at her.

At the hotel, riding up to their floor on the elevator, Scully handed Skinner back his jacket. "I'm going to have a hot bath and order a bottle of wine from room service. Would you like to join me?" A pause, then, a little embarrassed, she added "for wine, I mean?"

It was hard for Skinner to keep a straight face. An image of Scully in the bathtub flashed in his mind. "I knew what you meant, Scully. I'd love to" he said, very seriously. "Why don't I order the wine while you have your bath and you call me when you're ready?" Seeing Scully smile, he added "think we can slip it onto the expense account?"

"Medical necessity" she replied. "I'll write a prescription."

Heading for their respective rooms, she called out "Give me an hour" and turned to see his answering nod.

Sitting in the tub, surrounded by soothing warmth and vanilla scent, Scully was overwhelmed with memories. Tears ran unnoticed down her cheeks as she thought of Mulder. He was like her father, brother, friend and child, all rolled into one. And lover, she reminded herself.

It had been a very long and tiring week. She wanted nothing more than to soak in the tub, curl up under the covers and sleep all weekend. She heard a noise in her apartment. Someone calling her name. Mulder. Reluctantly starting to rise from the tub, she turned just in time to see Mulder burst through her bathroom door. "Scully, I had to come, this is so cool!" He paused as if just realizing where he was. "Scully, you're naked."

"Most people do bathe that way, Mulder" was her tart reply as she settled down into the tub, her back to him.

He continued to talk, crouching beside her tub, one hand on her arm where it rested on the side of the tub. She wasn't listening. He was going on about some radio show he had been listening to. She tuned in to hear him say "so I called and I won!" She was looking at him with a blank expression. "But it's tonight, Scully! You have to get dressed."

"Mulder, what are you talking about?"

With a resigned sigh, he explained again that he had won tickets to tonight's showing of "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat". "Hurry up, Scully, get dressed. It starts in..." consulting his watch, "90 minutes."

"Mulder, you hate musicals!" Reaching for the towel he was handing her, in spite of herself.

"I know, but you like them and it's so cool to win something!"

"Mulder, you're nuts."

On the way back to her apartment afterwards, she had to admit that she had really enjoyed the show, despite Mulder's wise cracks throughout. He was going to have a bruise where she had elbowed him a dozen times.

Reluctant to let the evening end, they opened a bottle of wine and talked quietly until she began to doze off. Mulder led her to the bedroom and tucked her in, turning off the light. As he turned to leave, "Mulder, stay?" He looked at her silently for a moment until she shifted in the bed and turned the covers down. "Please?" He stayed.

What wouldn't she give to have him come bursting into her bathroom right this minute? She realized that the water had cooled and decided to get out, rather than warm it up. The knock sounded at the door just as she stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in the robe supplied by the hotel. Good timing.

Skinner waited while she changed into her pyjamas in the bathroom. She hadn't noticed until now that her clothes were all clean. Skinner must have sent them out to the laundry. How thoughtful. Coming back into the room, she found him flipping through the channels on the television. It was definitely a man thing, she told herself. She sat on the bed while he sat in the chair beside her. They talked about inconsequential things; his years as a field agent, her high school years, his childhood, her brother. As if by some agreement, Mulder was not mentioned, nor was Gordon Chester, Fishbait or anything else that was currently significant.

It was after 1:00 a.m. when Skinner pulled the covers over her and tiptoed out of the room. It was a nice feeling to be trusted enough that she would allow herself to fall asleep with him in the room. He turned on the bathroom light and closed the door part way on his way out.

Ten days after his admission to hospital, it was time to let Mulder wake up a little. His vital signs were stable, he no longer needed the breathing tube and was down to one IV line. His injuries were healing - even his foot, Scully was happy to note. It looked pretty certain that he would not lose it after all. He needed to start moving a little as much as his injuries would allow. He needed to start eating a little too. He had lost a lot of weight. He had a long way to go to be considered recovered but he was definitely making progress. She hoped to be able to transfer him to Georgetown within a week. She would be happy to get home. She had had to go out and buy new clothes the same four outfits will only get you by for so long.

She wanted to be there when he started to awake. She wanted hers to be the first face he saw. As soon as they had completely weaned him off the sedative, they would move him out of ICU. That's when the real fun would start. Mulder could be such a baby when things weren't to his liking.

Scully sat by his bed, waiting. It had been over an hour since he would have had his sedative and she saw his eyelids flutter. He tossed his head feebly, trying to dislodge the tubes he could feel up his nose. He breathed out in a soft moan. She reached out and stroked his head, soothing him and reassuring herself. "Sshh... it's okay, I'm here. You're alright. You're in the hospital and everything is going to be just fine."

Mulder drifted in and out, never quite reaching consciousness, for two hours. When his eyes finally opened and stayed open, they focused on Scully's face. He smiled a little and her answering smile lit up his world. "Hey" he croaked.

"Hey" she whispered back.

It was difficult to talk. "You okay?"

"Am I... Oh, Mulder!" Tears sprang to her eyes and she leaned over and kissed him gently on his bruised and swollen lips.

"All better now" he declared with a little smile.

Scully helped him drink a bit of water. She promised to tell him all that had transpired but not now. "Now, I want you to sleep, and dream happy dreams." Mulder smiled as he drifted off to sleep, to dreams of a life with Scully. Talking, laughing, riding off into the sunset, hand-in-hand, living happily ever after. Happy dreams.

Mulder was out of Intensive Care. No longer sedated, he was feeling every ache and pain, although dulled somewhat by the painkillers he was given. His leg throbbed constantly and the cast itched. His foot was still attached, at least. Every breath was a hammer blow to his ribs and both shoulders ached unmercifully. He couldn't yet move his arms, although the cast had been removed a few days ago. He had been told by more people than he cared to remember, that it would be six weeks before he would really be able to move his arms and probably a couple of years before they were completely back to normal. He found the information depressing. He hated being tied up like this, hated being so dependant. He couldn't even feed himself. He was in pain, impatient, restless and miserable. Scully walked in, in the middle of his litany of woes.

"Hi! How do you feel?"

"Pretty good, Scully, how about you?"

"Liar" She kissed him. He loved the feel of her lips on his. He longed for mobility, longed to be able to put his arms around her, to hold her close forever. "Do you really think the nurses don't tell me every little complaint you have?" She was a little embarrassed to recall how she had raked them over the coals for not telling her. "I want to transfer you to Georgetown today. We're going to airlift you. I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to sedate you for the trip."

Mulder knew there was no point in resisting. He learned a long time ago it was useless to argue with Scully when she was in "doctor mode". Especially when he was the patient.

The air ambulance was ready. Mulder had been loaded and the pilot was just waiting for Scully to board. "Five minutes" she said. Skinner stood at the edge of the helipad and she walked up to him. Taking both of his hands in hers, she said "How can I ever thank you for all you've done?"

"Just take care of him I want both of you back to work. That's thanks enough."

"There's room for one more on board. Are you sure you don't want to come back with us?"

"No, you go ahead. I've got a couple of things to take care of here. I've got a car rented and I'll bring your things and Mulder's with me. I'll be back tomorrow." Scully stood on her toes and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you I couldn't have made it through this without you."

Skinner waited until the chopper lifted off before walking away. Like the daughter he never had, he mused.

"Mulder, we have to talk" The words guaranteed to send a chill down every man's spine. "Talk about what, Scully?" as if he didn't know.

She stood in front of him where he sat on the chair, hands on her hips. "It's not that I mind taking care of you, I've never minded. But...." Here comes the part I'm not going to like, thought Mulder. "...it's really time for you to start taking care of yourself. You are ready to go back to work. Your cast comes off next week. You'll have to be careful with your shoulders for a while and you'll need to use the crutches for a while longer but you need to be at work."

"Why?" His ingenuous smile amused her. She sat on the coffee table, facing him and took his hands in hers.

"Mulder, it hurts me to have to tell you this..." trying to be serious, "but you're getting fat."

His surprised burst of laughter was contagious and she laughed with him.

"Seriously, Mulder, you need to go home." What she didn't tell him was that it was getting too difficult to stay out of his bed and that was a complication she wasn't prepared to deal with. "You need to get back to real life."

Real life. It would have been nice if this could become his real life. And hers. He wasn't surprised. He knew she was right, it was time. It had been three weeks since he left the hospital. Three wonderful weeks of Scully's ministrations. It had just become too difficult to be with her at night and not be in the same bed. He needed to focus on something else, get his mind off the thing he wanted and could never have. He had been away from his office for two months. It was time.

Scully's voice broke into his reverie. She was tilting to the side, looking up at him. "Mulder? Did you hear me?"

"I heard you, Scully." When he raised his head, they were almost nose to nose. He leaned the short distance required and kissed her lightly on the lips. "You're right, I need to get back to real life."

Scully walked ahead of him, carrying his bag, and opened his apartment door. Mulder shuffled along behind her, trying not to depend too much on the crutches. It had been extremely difficult to learn to use them without causing further damage to his shoulders and it was still not comfortable. He could only take a few steps before stopping to ease the pressure on his upper body. He had used a wheelchair in the hospital but he refused to come home in a wheelchair. Scully had made him stay an extra week for that. Brutal.

"I'm coming, Scully, I'm coming." She smiled, knowing that it was only he who was impatient at his slowness.

"I'm waiting, Mulder."

Inside his apartment at last, he shuffled to the couch and collapsed. He was not looking forward to having to fend for himself, even while he knew he could.

Scully busied herself unpacking his bag and putting things away, moving assorted pieces of furniture to make it easier for him to get around. When she could think of nothing else to occupy herself with, she found herself reluctant to leave. "Want Chinese for dinner?"

After dinner, Scully tidied up while Mulder flipped through the channels on the TV, finally settling on a wildlife documentary. She carefully moved his feet and sat beside him on the couch. "I'll bring you some groceries tomorrow when I come" she said, not looking at him. Getting no response, she turned to see him looking at her. Impulse overwhelmed her and she leaned into him and kissed him passionately. Catching her breath, she said "Come on, I'll get you settled into bed before I go."

Mulder still hadn't spoken. He was afraid he wasn't able to speak without begging her to stay. For the night. For the weekend. For life. He stood slowly and shuffled after her into the bedroom. She helped him undress and get into bed. Still reluctant to leave, she sat on the side of his bed, holding his hand. Neither of them spoke. Scully got up and leaned over him, kissed his forehead and stroked his hair. "You'll be fine, Mulder. Call me if you need me." With that, she walked out of his room.

Scully stood for a long time with her hand on the doorknob. She had turned off the lights, had her jacket over her arm, but she seemed incapable of opening the door. Suddenly, without warning, her resolve crashed down around her. Without questioning her need to do so, she locked the door, put her jacket back on the chair, took off her shoes and went back to Mulder's bedroom. She stopped in the doorway to find him looking at her. Without a word, she approached the bed, shedding her clothes on the way. By the time she had taken the few steps required to get there, she had only her bra and panties on. She took them off, her eyes never leaving his.

"Scully, you're naked." His voice cracked.

She slipped under the covers and slid over until her body was touching his. "Hush, this isn't the time to talk," she said, on the way to cover his mouth with hers.

He held her away from him for a moment. "Scully, you don't have to do this."

"Yes, Mulder, I do." She began stroking his chest. "I really do." Mulder groaned as he reached for her. She gently put his arm back across his chest. "Just lie still I promise I won't hurt you." Nibbling on his earlobe, her whispered words sent a shiver through him. "Trust me, I'm a doctor."