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By dee_ayy (dee_ayy@yahoo.com)
February 1999
Rating: PG-13 for language. Otherwise, just MulderAngst and a bit of ScullyTorture. Mulder doesn't even faint. Unheard of for me, I know. Sorry.
Disclaimer: You know they're not mine, I know they're not mine, THEY know they're not mine, and they haven't sued me yet. So I guess they know there's no harm intended--because of course, there isn't!
Spoilers: Yup. For the season 6 episode TITHONUS. Be warned.
Thanks: To the usual suspects. Keryn and Christine read parts of this as a work-in-progress, and Vickie and Kristina are always nothing but encouraging. Thanks, guys. And I just found out I won a Purple Heart Award! To all who voted for me, gee, thanks. I don't know what to say. I'm relatively new at this, so to win something is, well, stunning.
Archive: By all means. But be so kind as to let me know.
Feedback: Is what I live for! dee_ayy@yahoo.com.
Summary: A fill-in for Tithonus, documenting the hell that Mulder goes
through as he finds out what happened to Scully, and the thing he is reminded
of.
__________________________________________________
The Kindness of Strangers
By dee_ayy
Mulder swiped his card through the reader one more time, waited for the tone, and dialed. Turn your phone back on, Scully, dammit. Turn it on! Nothing. Again. He put the phone back in the armrest, looked at it for fifteen seconds, then swiped his credit card through, picked it up, and dialed again. Damn the airlines for not allowing cell phone use on planes anyway. This was gonna cost him a mint, but he couldn't help himself. He had to reach her. He had to let her know that she might be in danger.
Still nothing. "The DC Cellular customer you are trying to reach. . . ." Oh, shut up. He slammed the phone back into its holder, and gave an apologetic look to the person sitting next to him when the guy glared at him. But in a show of perfect commuter flight manners, the two men didn't say a word.
Mulder looked at his watch. Studied it. Willed the seconds to go by faster. But no, just tick, tick, tick. Twenty more minutes. Just twenty more minutes.
+ + + + +
The minute Mulder got into the terminal at Laguardia he flipped open his phone and dialed her again. A ring! Thank God!
He heard the connection get made. Then silence.
"Scully?"
"Uhhhh... No." It was a man's voice.
"This is Special Agent Fox Mulder. I am trying to reach my partner, Agent Scully. This is her phone. Who is this?"
"Ummm, this is Special Agent Zupanski, Agent Mulder. Ummm."
Mulder was losing patience. "Why do you have her phone? Is she there? Put her on."
"Ummm, no, she's not here any longer."
"Where did she go? And why doesn't she have her phone?" She didn't have her phone. Suddenly Mulder's blood ran cold. She wasn't there, but her phone was. And she was gone. He quickened his pace through the terminal.
"What happened to her? Where is she?"
More silence. He was too quiet. Then "she was shot, Agent Mulder."
Mulder stopped dead, as if he, too, had been hit by a bullet. Suddenly his mouth was dry, and he had trouble forming words. One thought ran through his head. Oh God, oh God, oh God.
"Is she?" The completion of that question was left unspoken, but it was received loud and clear.
"She's alive, Agent Mulder."
Mulder let out the breath he'd been holding. "How bad? Where is she? Where'd they take her?" He could hear his voice shaking, but seemed unable to get control of it at the moment.
Seemed Agent Zupanski was no longer flustered by the phone call. Mulder could tell by the change in his tone of voice. "Look Agent Mulder, I don't know that I should be giving you information on the phone. I cannot confirm that you" Mulder cut him off.
"Oh for Christ's sake. Badge number JTT047101111. Look it up. Check the numbers stored in the damn phone in your hand. I'm in there. Where the fuck is she?" The aggravation of this obviously green agent's stupidity was enough to set Mulder's feet in motion again, and he headed out to the curb where he promptly cut in front of the line of people waiting for cabs, and jumped in the first one. When he heard the cries of protest he shut the door, and flashed his badge through the window, never taking the phone from his ear.
The driver turned to look at him expectantly, but still Zupanski hadn't answered the question. "WHERE IS SHE?"
"NYU Medical Center, Agent Mulder."
"What was your name again? Zupanski? I'll deal with you later." He closed his phone, and looked up at the driver. "NYU Medical Center. The ER." As the cab started to move Mulder slumped back in the seat, and listened to a recording of Paul Sorvino tell him to be sure to fasten his seat belt. Oh, just shut up.
+ + + + +
"How far away are we?" The cab was sitting in a typical New York traffic jam, and Mulder wanted to get out and run it.
"We're not even over the river yet, buddy. Keep your pants on."
"How much longer?" The urgency in his voice was apparent.
"How should I know?" The cabby snapped at his fare, but then he studied Mulder's face in his rearview mirror, and his attitude softened. "Look, I'll get ya there as fast as I can, okay?"
"Okay, okay. Sorry."
"No problem. Hold on." The driver cut a sharp left out of the traffic and across a parking lot. "I know a shortcut or two."
+ + + + +
"Excuse me? Excuse me?" Try as he might, Mulder couldn't seem to get anyone's attention. He saw what he thought was a nurse walk behind the counter. She didn't look too busy. "YOU! Can you help me?"
The woman looked up, obviously angry at the way she had been addressed. "What?"
"Dana Scully. I'm looking for Dana Scully. She was shot. I'm not even sure I'm at the right place. The cab driver said there's more than one NYU Hospital." Mulder heard his own voice. It was urgent, pleading. He didn't care.
Her face softened. "I'll check for you. How do you spell the name?" She typed in the letters as Mulder spelled them out.
"She's here. It says here she's already in surgery."
"What else does it say?"
"I'm sorry, I can't tell you any more. GSW--that means gunshot wound--to the abdomen. That's all I know."
Mulder felt the blood drain from his face. Abdomen. Not arm or leg. Throughout the kamikaze cab ride he'd berated himself for not making Zupanski tell him how bad it was, and when he'd called back, the phone had been turned off again. So he had no way of finding out until he found her. Instead he had done his best to convince himself that he'd get here and find it was nothing more than a flesh wound, and that Scully was trying to supervise her own treatment while they stitched her up. Deep down he'd known all along that this wasn't going to be the case, not with the way the agent on the phone had acted. But he'd tried.
GSW to the abdomen. The words ran through his head on a seemingly endless loop. After a moment he shook it off. Surgery. Okay, Mulder, you haven't found her yet. He focused his eyes back on the woman in front of him.
"Where's surgery?"
"It's up on the sixth floor of the--" she didn't even get a chance to tell him which building before he had taken off for the elevators. She called after him, but he was long gone.
+ + + + +
Fuck. Where the hell was he? He knew he was on the 6th floor, but this was a goddamn maze. He didn't see any signs for the surgical department. He didn't know where the hell he was. He'd round corners and find nothing but more corridor. He rounded another, and finally found a nurse's station.
"Where's surgery?"
The desk clerk looked surprised. "How'd you get way over here? You're on the opposite side of the building. Technically, you're in the wrong building! What you need to do. . . ." She stopped for a moment and tried to decide the best way to give directions. She rifled through a folder, muttering to herself. "Damn, no more maps." She looked up at Mulder--he looked scared. Her face broke into a sympathetic smile, and she turned to look at the nurse filling out a chart at the desk behind her. "Sandy, I'll be back in a sec. This guy is totally turned around, and I think it will be best if I show him rather than try and give directions."
Sandy looked up with a knowing grin on her face. "Sure thing."
"Follow me, I'll show you the way." Mulder looked at the ID badge clipped to his savior's jacket. Her name was Jackie.
They rounded the corner, away from the activity of the nurse's station. "You seem really worried about someone."
Mulder had been lost in his own thoughts. "Huh? Uhh, yeah. My partner."
"Partner?"
"Yeah. She was shot."
Jackie looked at him again. "You a cop?"
"Uhhh, no. An FBI agent." He saw Jackie's eyebrows raise in the typical "I'm impressed!" reaction that he was accustomed to seeing, and that usually gave his ego a nice little jolt. Not this time.
"Well. . ." Jackie didn't seem to have anything to say. Finally she settled on "Try not to worry. This is a great hospital." She continued to lead her charge through the labyrinthine corridors.
They rounded a corner, and Mulder noticed the change. The corridors were wider, there were people in surgical garb everywhere. His chest tightened as he realized that he was getting close.
"Here we are, Mister. . . ." Jackie realized she didn't know his name. "Mister." She pointed toward a doorway. "That's the waiting room. I'll go and leave word that you are outside, and someone will come talk to you when the operation is done, okay?" Mulder just nodded. "What's yours and your partner's names? So I can tell them who to ask for?"
"Her name's Scully. Dana Scully. I'm Fox Mulder."
Jackie squeezed his elbow lightly. Mulder felt the touch, but it brought him no comfort. "You go wait. I hope she's okay."
"Thanks Jackie." Mulder made his way toward the waiting room in a daze. He stepped into the room, which was practically full of people waiting for word on loved ones. None of the faces registered. Mulder saw a single empty chair by the door, and slumped into it. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and his face in his hands.
What the hell had happened? Had Fellig shot her? Sure, he was wanted for murder, but that was 70 years ago! In all that time he hadn't really hurt anyone, had he? Scully certainly hadn't seemed to be afraid of him. If only he had been there. It wouldn't have happened if they had been together like they are supposed to be. Fuck that Kersh anyway.
"Is that you, Agent Mulder?" The voice was small, tentative.
Mulder looked up at the person speaking, and a wave of nausea swept over him. It was Ritter, and he was covered in blood.
Scully's blood. It had to be. Mulder swallowed the bile that was rising in his throat, and stood up, allowing his height advantage to give him a psychological edge over the cocky younger agent. "What happened?"
He didn't need the advantage. Ritter's face fell, and for a moment Mulder thought the guy might collapse. "I thought it was a gun. It was black, he was lifting it toward me. I thought it was a gun."
Another man, older than Mulder, came up next to Ritter, and put his hand on the young man's shoulder. "You're Agent Scully's partner?"
Mulder was confused. Had Ritter shot Scully? Is that what he was trying to say? "I am. Who are you? What's going on here?"
"I'm Special Agent Lopez." He turned to Ritter. "Go sit down, Peyton. I'll talk to Agent Mulder."
Ritter looked at Mulder again before he turned and returned to his chair. But he said it one more time before he left: "I thought it was a gun."
Lopez took Mulder's elbow and led him out into the hallway. By now Mulder was angry.
"What the hell is going on? Did that prick in there shoot my partner?"
Lopez sighed. "Technically, yes. He says he entered the room and saw Fellig lifting something that he thought was a gun, so he fired. One shot. But Agent Scully was standing right behind Fellig, and Ritter didn't see her. The bullet passed through Fellig's body, and hit agent Scully as well."
The news caused Mulder to fall back against the wall in disbelief. "How is that possible? Scully is a veteran. She would have hit the ground the second Ritter identified himself."
"Well, there is some confusion among the other agents on scene as to whether or not Ritter did identify himself."
"WHAT? He just barged in and fired?" Mulder was raging now. The emotions were churning in him like a tornado, each one having a moment at the surface.
"Maybe. It was a raid. You know how those are. It gets confusing."
"But he was in the lead, wasn't he?"
"Yes." Lopez knew where this was going. "But he's green, Mulder. This was his first big case, the first one he instigated himself. It was an accident, Agent Mulder. A terrible, terrible accident. Come in and sit down. The doctors know we're out here waiting."
Mulder looked at the older man, his eyes like steel. "I can't look at him. Especially like that. Tell him to change his clothes." He clasped his hands on top of his head, and walked away down the hall.
+ + + + +
Mulder looked at his watch again. It had been two hours. Two hours since Jackie delivered him to this hellhole. He didn't think he could stand this waiting much longer. He paced outside the waiting room doors, unable to enter the room as long as Ritter was in there. He didn't think he'd be responsible for his own actions now that he knew what had happened. He saw Lopez approaching him. Again. He'd tried this an hour ago, and Mulder hadn't changed his mind.
"Agent Mulder, really. Why don't you come sit down?" Mulder answered with a glare. "Nothing you could say or do could possibly make Peyton feel worse than he does right now."
Mulder snorted. "I wouldn't be so sure of that. He almost killed her, don't you get that? He violated, or forgot, or whatever, his most basic training, and as a result he almost killed my partner." He looked toward the doors marked SURGERY: DO NOT ENTER. "Hell, he might still have."
"Mulder." Lopez's tone was admonishing.
Mulder was instantly sorry he'd said it. "Look, I'm sorry. But I can't look at his face right now. I just can't. As long as he's in there, I'll be out here. It's best for everyone. Trust me on that."
He walked away, and then suddenly he thought of it. Her family. Jesus Christ, her mom. Had anyone called her mom? He turned back, but Lopez had returned to the waiting room. He could just call Maggie Scully and tell her himself. Or he could suck it up and go into that room to ask Lopez if she'd been notified.
He went to the doorway, and looked in. Ritter and Lopez were in the far corner. Ritter had put on an overcoat, covering the evidence of his horrible mistake. But he was distraught. Even Mulder could see that. For half a second he started to feel sorry for the guy. Then he imagined Scully in the OR, her insides ripped to shreds, and his sympathy left him. He purposefully strode toward the two men.
"Agent Lopez, has Scully's mom been notified?" Both seated agents looked up.
"Agent Mulder, Fox, I'm so sorry." Mulder totally ignored the man speaking to him, and focused his gaze on Lopez only. He did his best to pretend Ritter wasn't there at all.
"Her mother should be notified. Was she called?"
Lopez looked at Ritter, and then back at Mulder, fully aware of the freeze Mulder was putting on the young man. "I don't think so. Agent Scully's emergency notification card lists you as the person to contact, and you're here, so. . . ."
Mulder took a step back. Him? When did she do that? When had she decided he was the most important person to be called? Sure, she'd been his for almost as long as he'd known her, largely because he didn't have anyone else. But Scully? She had her mom, her brothers. And still she had changed her records and named him. But he didn't have time to think about what exactly that meant right now. No one had called her mom.
"Oh. Okay. I'll do it." He turned to leave, and came face-to-face with a doctor at the doorway. Mulder turned sideways to ease past the man; there had been a steady parade of doctors coming to talk to families, some with good news, some with bad. This was just another one--until he spoke.
"Scully? Scully family?"
Mulder spun back toward the man. "Me. That's me." His palms were sweaty all of a sudden. The doctor's attention was captured by the other two men approaching from the corner.
"Them too?"
Mulder grimaced when he saw them approach. "Yeah, okay."
"Let's talk in here." He led the three men into the small conference room adjoining the waiting room.
Mulder couldn't stand it any longer. They were barely in the room when he asked. "How is she?"
"Surgery went well. We have every reason to believe she's gonna be okay." Agent Ritter sobbed with relief, and sank into a chair. Mulder watched him, his face coldly composed, showing no sympathy for the man, then turned back to the doctor.
"What kind of damage was there?" He noted that the doctor's name was Dr. Devito. It was embroidered directly on his lab coat.
"Well, the bullet entered in the left upper quadrant of her abdomen, about here" Devito showed the spot on his own body, "and it actually exited around here." He twisted his body to show that spot, too.
"Her kidney?" Mulder was trying to get ahead of the doctor.
"Nope, missed it. But it ripped through her small intestine. Apparently the bullet had already passed through someone else?" Mulder nodded. "Well that slowed it down some. Probably lessened the damage. But we had to resect the intestine in two places. Our biggest concern right now is infection. We don't want her to get peritonitis. We also had to give her quite a bit of blood, so there is a concern that it might not clot properly. But we're optimistic. She's going to be a sick girl for a bit, but she should be okay."
Mulder closed his eyes and sighed deeply, suddenly overcome with fatigue. "When can I see her?"
"She's still in the OR right now; they're finishing up. Then she'll be in recovery for several hours at least. So it will be a while."
"Can I see her once she's in recovery?"
"No, that's not allowed. I'm sorry."
"But you don't understand. Whenever I've had surgery, she's. . . ." Mulder suddenly realized he wasn't going to win this one. It was probably Scully's medical background that allowed her to bend the rules whenever he was in a recovery room. Best to just let it drop. "Never mind. When will I know she's in her room?"
"You'll be around here?"
"I'll be wherever you tell me to be."
"Stay here. I'll have someone from recovery notify you when she is moved. She should be okay."
"Right. Thanks." Mulder shook the doctor's hand, and watched him leave. He then turned his attention to the two agents with him. But still, he pretended Ritter wasn't in the room, and only addressed Lopez. "There. You got your news. She's gonna make it. Now get him the fuck out of my sight."
Lopez looked for a second as though he was going to challenge Mulder. But the look in Mulder's eyes told Lopez not to, and the older agent turned to his young charge. "Yeah, Ritter, you really should get out of here. You're a mess. Let's get you home." Lopez stood and guided Ritter to a standing position as well. As they walked by Mulder, Lopez handed him his card. "Do me a favor and call me with any news, okay?" Mulder took the card and nodded almost imperceptibly, but it was enough for Lopez, and they left.
And Mulder was finally alone. He stood there, in the middle of this tiny room, and looked around, noticing it for the first time. He walked over to the small sofa and sat down, sliding his body down until his head rested on the back. The panic he now realized he'd been experiencing these last few hours was abating, and was replaced with a dull fear, that manifested itself with a knot in the pit of his stomach. "She's going to be a sick girl for a bit," he'd said. What does that mean?
It didn't matter. He could handle "a bit." As long as she recovered. As long as she could take her place where she belonged, by his side, as his partner. He laughed at that thought. He'd told her that if she did well on this case, then they'd be split up permanently. Does getting shot by your new partner constitute doing well? When the details of the investigation became known to Kersh, Mulder suspected that their boss would not think Scully had done well at all. Atta girl, Scully.
He heard movement in the doorway, and saw a family moving away, obviously leaving because the room was occupied. Mulder jumped up. "No, no, it's okay. You can have the room. I was just leaving." It was the only place around here where there was any privacy. But he was alone; he could have his privacy in his own head anywhere at all. Besides, he needed to find a phone.
+ + + + +
"Hi Mrs. Scully. It's Fox Mulder."
He heard her chuckle. "Maggie, remember? How nice to hear from you. How are you, Fox?" Before he could answer, Maggie obviously processed the tone of his voice, and she questioned him again. "What's the matter, Fox? What happened?"
"Umm. It's Dana. The doctors say she's going to be okay, but. . . . She was shot, Mrs. Scully."
Mulder heard her sharp intake of breath, and then silence. He was about to ask if she was still there when she finally spoke.
"Where are you? Where is she? I'll be right there."
"Ummm, well, that's the thing, Mrs. Scully. She's, we're in New York City. NYU Medical Center." He could hear Maggie trying to regulate her breathing, trying to keep it steady."
"What happened, Fox? Where was she shot?"
"In the abdomen. She just got out of surgery."
"JUST GOT OUT?? When did this happen? Why wasn't I called?"
"I don't know. I haven't been here that long myself. It happened while I was flying up here."
"You mean. . . you weren't together? What exactly happened?"
"She was sent on a case. Without me. To New York. I found out some information about the suspect that would be helpful to her, so I was bringing it up. But it was too late."
"He shot her?"
How did he explain this? "No, Mrs. Scully. The suspect was shot and killed. And Dana was accidentally shot at the same time." He wasn't quite sure why he was sugarcoating this for her. Maybe he wanted his furor at Ritter to be his own. Maybe it was something he wanted for himself. Or maybe he wanted to spare her the anguish of knowing that this was all some senseless, avoidable tragedy.
For her part, Mrs. Scully didn't seem to need any more than that. "What did the doctors say, Fox? Have you seen her?"
"No, they won't let me see her. She just got to recovery, I think. The doctor said the bullet went through her small intestine. She lost a lot of blood, and they had to resect her intestine in two places."
"Resect?"
Mulder almost laughed at the fact that he knew what this meant. Too much time spent with Scully. "I think it means that the bullet ripped holes in her intestine in two places. They had to cut out the damaged part and reconnect the undamaged ends. Really, though, he did say that he thought she'd be all right."
"I'll be on the next plane, Fox."
"I'll be here, Mrs. Scully. I won't leave her."
"I know, dear. I'll be there soon."
Mulder heard the connection break, and hung up the pay phone. He leaned forward and rested his head against the appliance, feeling the soothing cool of the metal against his forehead.
Mulder suddenly realized how conspicuous his odd stance against the phone must be, and stood up tall, looking around to see if he had drawn anyone's attention. But no one had even noticed him. Everyone around him was in his or her own little world of anguish. If they were on this floor, then there was someone they were worried about, someone they were waiting on, just like him. No one had the time or the inclination to notice him, or anyone else for that matter.
Now what? There was nothing to do but wait. He wandered back toward the waiting room. It was still filled to capacity, obviously far too small to accommodate everyone it needed to. There was an empty chair or two, but he couldn't bring himself to go back in there. Instead he made his way to the coffee vending machine he had found earlier.
He dropped his coins in and made his selection. The paper cup dropped down, but nothing poured into it. Mulder watched for another second, then chuckled in resignation, and took out the empty cup, crumpled it in his fist, and threw it away.
"As if these hospitals aren't expensive enough, they even have to stiff us for coffee."
Mulder turned to see who was speaking to him. It was a woman, about 60 years old. Well-dressed, distinguished-looking. The corners of his mouth turned up in the barest semblance of a smile in recognition of what she'd said, but he didn't reply.
"I can't stay in that tiny room, either."
"Excuse me?"
"I've been watching you, coming to the door of the waiting room, looking in, and not entering, walking away. I was in there. Sitting, waiting, like a good little sheep. But I can't seem to do it either."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"It really is criminal, that little room. Forcing distraught people to suffer their own private heartbreak so publicly, and piled one on top of the other like that."
Mulder nodded his agreement.
"I thought the doctor came to speak to you already?"
"Oh. He did. She should be all right."
The woman smiled. It was a genuine "happy for you" smile, Mulder could tell. "So why are you still hanging around here?"
Why was he? He knew why. "Because. Because I don't want to be too far away."
"Oh. I understand. I understand." Mulder doubted that she did. Not really.
"What about you?"
"My husband of 38 years. Never sick a day in his life. Until they found cancer just about everywhere. They're trying to buy him some time in there. That's about all, though. He just went in a little while ago. I fear I'm in for a long wait."
Mulder didn't know what to say, and found himself settling for the lame "I'm sorry."
"Thank you. So am I, so am I. But 38 wonderful years, that's something. We can't complain. Not really. We've been lucky. All you can do at times like this is count your blessings, I think." She looked at her watch. "Well, I'd better get back to that little cell in case the doctor comes looking for me, now that I know coffee isn't available. Nice talking to you."
She left, and Mulder was in awe as he watched her go. Her husband was dying, and she was considering herself lucky. No, he realized, he was the lucky one. Scully wasn't going to die. Not today.
+ + + + +
Mulder was loitering outside the recovery room. He'd found the doors, and once he did, he took up position across the hall. He couldn't move away, even though several hospital staffers had asked him to. No, he couldn't move; not when he knew that Scully was just on the other side of those automatic doors. At first, whenever they opened he tried to get a look inside, to see if he could see her. But it didn't take long to realize that she wasn't within sight. So instead, he would periodically grab someone who had just come out of the doors, and ask how she was. The answer was always the same: "I don't know. Excuse me," and the person would scurry off. She'd been in there for over three hours.
But then he hit pay dirt in the form of an old Hispanic man. An orderly, by the looks of it. He had come and gone several times, passing Mulder each time. When he returned for probably his fourth pass by the agent, he stopped.
"Who you waiting on?"
Mulder had been lost in thought. He looked up, startled. "What?"
"Who you waiting on?"
"Oh, Scully. Dana Scully."
"What's she look like? I'll try to get a peek at her for you."
Mulder grinned appreciatively. "Redhead. Small. She had abdominal surgery."
The man winked. "I'll see what I can find out for you, son." And he pushed the button and went through the doors as they opened for him.
He was only in there for a few minutes. When he came out he smiled at Mulder, allowing the younger man to release a sigh of relief.
"She's doing good. I even asked, didn't just look. They said she's doing real good."
"Was she awake?" Mulder's tone was urgent.
"No, no. She was sleeping."
"How'd she look?"
The man looked at him for a moment, trying to decide what to say. "You ever have surgery on your gut?" Mulder shook his head. "It's not pretty, let me tell you. She doesn't look so good right now, but she'll get better fast. You wait and see. I better get back to it. You take care now."
Mulder watched him walk away, relieved to have at least a little news. Then a thought popped into his head. The kindness of strangers. All around him, the kindness of strangers. A cabby who broke every rule in his book to shave a few minutes off the driving time. A desk clerk who took the time to show a frantic man to where he needed to be. A woman in a worse situation than him who reminded him to count his blessings. A little old man who took pity on the nutcase standing in the hallway, and went out of his way to ease the stranger's mind. All in a strange city. NEW YORK city, no less. Mulder leaned back against the wall, and allowed some of the tension in his shoulders to dissipate. She'd be all right. He'd be all right. Everything would be all right.
But not right now. He looked to his left, saw Peyton Ritter coming his way, and the tension immediately returned. He was alone. He'd showered, Mulder noticed. And he was in casual clothes--a polo shirt, khakis, docksiders. He looked like he should be serving mai tais on his yacht, not checking up on the person he'd shot just hours earlier. Mulder stood up straight, shoved his hands into his pockets, and fixed his gaze on the approaching man. Ritter averted his eyes until he reached Mulder.
"How is she?" His voice was still small, Mulder noted. Good.
"I don't know. She's in there." He cocked his head in the direction of the recovery room. "You shouldn't be here."
"I couldn't stay at home. I had to know how she is."
"So dial your damn phone and find out. Just get out of my face."
"Agent Mulder. I am so sorry. I can't tell you" Mulder cut him off.
"Save it. Just save it, _Peyton_." Mulder made sure to pronounce his name as if it had four letters in it. "Save it for the person who needs to hear it. Save it for Scully. If you're looking for absolution from me, you're not gonna get it. So just get out of here." Mulder turned his back on the man, and started to walk away, but then stopped. Why should he walk away? He's the one who belonged there, after all. So he turned back. Ritter was still standing there, motionless--and speechless.
Mulder considered his options. What should he say next? He used the lower register of his voice, and practically growled. "I said get the fuck out of my sight." Ritter snapped back to attention, and turned to go. As he started to walk away, Mulder thought of a parting shot. "If I have my way, they'll take your badge for this, _Peyton_." Ritter stopped in his tracks for a moment, started to turn around, but didn't. Instead, he started walking again, and left.
It should have given Mulder a little thrill, getting one over on the enemy like that; getting the last word; kicking him when he was down, whatever you wanted to call it. But the fact of the matter was, it didn't. Ritter wasn't even "the enemy," but rather just a pathetic, stupid, green son-of-a-bitch. He really didn't care what happened to Agent Ritter any more. Sure, he wanted him punished--and he would surely be punished. And though he had taken every opportunity to rub salt in the young man's wounds, Mulder derived no pleasure out of it. Rather, he did it out of some misplaced sense of duty. Like he was defending Scully's honor by making sure the person who had hurt her suffered as much as she was suffering. Huh. As if the emotional pain he was inflicting on Ritter could even come close to what Scully would feel when she woke up.
"Fox?"
Hearing her voice, and his name, snapped Mulder out of his reverie. He looked to the voice and saw Mrs. Scully rushing toward him. He enveloped her in an embrace.
"What did you do, Mrs. Scully, fly here without a plane?"
"One of those magical things, Fox. There was a plane leaving the minute I got to the airport. And the FBI car at Laguardia. Did you do that?"
"Yeah. My cab ride here was an adventure I thought I'd spare you."
"How is she?"
"I don't know anything, Mrs. Scully. Nothing definite since I talked to you. An orderly looked in on her for me a few minutes ago, in there," he again cocked his head toward the recovery room doors, "and he found out that the people in there say she's doing well. But I haven't seen the doctor again, and they won't let me in there."
"Well, then, I suppose we have to subscribe to the 'no news is good news' theory, don't we?" Maggie Scully's glass was always half full.
"I suppose so, I suppose so."
"Maybe we can make my arrival work for us." She smiled at him, went to the recovery room doors, and pushed the button that made them swing open. When they did, she innocently stuck her head in, and practically shouted. "Hello? Excuse me, can someone help me?"
Mulder watched as a nurse came to the door. The two women spoke for a moment, the nurse nodded, touched Maggie's arm, and went back inside. Mrs. Scully returned to Mulder's side. "She's going to page her doctor for us."
"How did you manage that?"
"Never underestimate the persuasive powers of a worried mother, Fox. Now tell me exactly what happened, and why you two were split up."
Mulder didn't know how frank Scully had been with her mom about their current predicament within the Bureau. "I'm sort of in the dog house with our boss, Mrs. Scully."
She let out an exasperated sigh. "Maggie, Fox, please!"
Mulder grinned. "Okay. When this case came up, our boss assigned Scully to it with the agent who found it, a guy up here in New York. He did it to punish me, I think." He looked at the doors one more time. "Mission accomplished."
"Come on now, Fox."
"Sorry. Anyway, I don't know the specifics of what happened at the scene. Just that she was hit with the same bullet that killed the suspect."
"Just one bullet?"
"That's what they tell me."
"But why was she in the line of fire? I don't understand, Fox."
"Neither do I, Maggie. Neither do I." His gaze suddenly shifted from Mrs. Scully to a point over the woman's shoulder. "That's her doctor." He pointed to the man coming down the hall toward them.
Mulder approached him, but the doctor prevented him from speaking by raising his hand. "Let me go have a look at her, then we'll talk, okay? Right now I don't know much more than I did last time we spoke." He walked past Mulder, took notice of Maggie, and went through the doors.
Mulder took this opportunity to reiterate for Maggie everything the doctor had told him earlier, so they would be on the same page when he returned. He was just finishing when the doctor came back out the door. Mulder introduced him to Maggie, then asked one simple question. "So?"
Dr. Devito smiled. "So far everything looks excellent. Her vital signs are strong and steady, she has woken up a couple of times. We're going to move her up to a room in a little while. Room....." The doctor pulled a bunch of slips of paper out of his pocket, and rifled through them. "Here it is. Room 1121, in the Tisch Building."
"Dr. Devito, how will Dana be? Will she be awake? Will she be in pain?"
The doctor looked at the older woman. "She'll be very groggy, probably for the next 24 hours, slipping in and out of sleep. As for pain, she will most certainly be in considerable pain, which is why she'll be heavily medicated at first--that's why she'll be so sleepy. We'll keep her knocked out during the worst of it, and then she'll be on a self-regulating morphine pump--she'll be regulating her own pain medication. It works really well. They'll explain how it works to her upstairs when she's 'with it' enough to understand."
Mulder grinned wryly. "Did anyone tell you that your patient is a medical doctor, Dr. Devito?"
Devito looked mildly surprised. "No, I was told FBI Agent."
"She's that, too. But she'll know how the pump works. Don't pull any punches from her when she wakes up, doctor. She'll see right through you."
"Thanks for the warning." Devito's face turned serious. "Look, now. It will be at least an hour before she's moved and settled in her room. At _least_ that long. I want you," he pointed at Mulder for emphasis, "to go down to the cafeteria, get something to eat and get off your feet for a while. They told me inside that you've been standing out here like a statue for hours.
Maggie gave Mulder her best motherly 'concerned' look. "Fox?"
Mulder just shrugged. "Couldn't leave her, Maggie. I promised."
"Well, I'm here now, and I give you permission. Let's go get something to eat. We have time." They started to walk away from the doctor, and suddenly Mulder turned back.
"Wait a minute. Where is the cafeteria in this labyrinth?" The doctor chuckled and gave them the directions.
+ + + + +
"Fox, honey, you need to eat something." She was looking at Mulder's tray, which held only a soft drink. He'd passed the desserts, the entrees, and the salad without taking a thing. He looked at her, noted her expression, and turned to face the options in front of him where he stood. He selected a cup of yogurt and a banana, and pushed his tray toward the cashier.
Maggie shook her head. But it was better than nothing, she supposed. She went to pay for her own meal, and was told that the man in front of her had paid for her. She smiled and followed Mulder to a table.
He was sitting there, looking out the windows into the darkness. When Maggie sat down, he spoke. "You know, it hadn't even occurred to me that it had gotten dark outside."
"Time sort of stands still at times like this, doesn't it?"
He looked at her. "Yeah, I guess so."
"Unfortunately, we know this from experience, don't we?"
Mulder blanched slightly at the reminder. "Yeah." He was sipping the soda. The food, however, remained untouched.
"Fox, you have to eat."
"I'm not hungry Mrs... Maggie." Every time he had to be reminded to call her Maggie, and every time he had trouble with it. It seemed disrespectful. He'd been taught to address his elders by Mr. or Mrs.
"You have to be starving. When is the last time you ate? This morning, I bet. If then." She knew him too well. "We don't want you falling over like you did my house when Dana had her cancer."
How did she know about that? "How did you know about that?"
"Oh, Fox, I could tell. And the hospice worker--what was her name? Marie, wasn't it?--confirmed it. You won't do Dana any good if you end up in the next bed. So eat up." She took the yogurt off his tray, and pulled the lid off for him.
He ate.
As they got up to leave, Mulder asked Maggie to wait for him. He went back to the beverages, and poured a cup of coffee, piling sugars and creamers on top of the lid. When he returned after paying, Maggie had to ask what that was for.
"I owe someone this. I just hope she's still there. I need to stop off on the surgical floor on the way upstairs, okay?"
"Of course."
They got off the elevator, and Maggie followed him to the surgical waiting room. Mulder stopped in the doorway, and scanned the people in there. She was there, her face seemingly buried in a book, though it was obvious to anyone who bothered to watch that she wasn't reading a word. It was his friend from the coffee machine, and he approached her. "Any news?"
The woman looked up and smiled at him. He handed her the coffee. "Coffee is available after all."
"Oh you sweet man. No, no news yet. Almost six hours now. You?"
"They've moved her upstairs."
"Oh that's good. Maybe I'll see you up there."
"I hope so. Good luck." He turned and returned to Mrs. Scully.
"What was that all about, Fox?"
"The kindness of strangers, Maggie. Let's go find Dana." He led her back to the elevator, and pushed the button for the eleventh floor.
+ + + + +
The door to room 1121 was closed, so Mulder approached someone at the nurse's station. "Excuse me, is Dana Scully in her room yet? Room 1121."
The nurse didn't even look up. "I think they're settling her in there now. When they come out you can go in." Then she did look up with a kind smile. "Are you family?"
"Ummm, yes. You could say that. Her mother is over there, too."
"Okay, then you can stay. Visiting hours are technically over, though, you know."
"I know. But we haven't been allowed to see her yet."
"I understand. You shouldn't have to wait much longer."
"Thanks." Mulder returned to Dana's mom. "They're finishing up in there. We can go in when they come out."
"Uh huh." Maggie was suddenly nervous, fidgety.
"The orderly who talked to me said she didn't look so good, so don't be surprised. He said no one does after surgery like hers, though."
Maggie looked up at Mulder. "I don't care what she looks like, sweetheart, I just want to see for myself that she's all right."
"I know. Me too."
Mulder leaned wearily against the wall by the door, and Maggie continued to fidget in place while they waited.
Five minutes later the door opened, and two nurses came out. Mulder jumped to attention, and Maggie approached them. "I'm her mom. Can we go in?"
One nurse kept walking but the other stopped. "Sure you can. Let me take you in. She's sleeping, though." She led Maggie in by the arm, and Mulder followed close behind.
The room was almost dark, with only the one light over Dana's bed on. But even in the dimness Mulder was taken aback. "Not so good" was an understatement. Scully looked like hell. She was pale beyond words, she had a tube up her nose, she had IVs in both arms, and though she was sound asleep, her face was etched with pain. Mulder found that he needed to hold on to something for support, and settled for the foot of her bed.
"Geezus, Scully, what did he do to you?"
"Excuse me?" The nurse had heard Mulder mumble, but hadn't heard his words.
"Nothing, nothing. Is she okay?"
"Sure she is. She will be, anyway. It'll jut take a little time. The nasogastric tube is there to drain out anything in her stomach, so she doesn't get an infection. They'll probably take it out tomorrow." Mulder flinched. He'd had one of those before, and having it pulled was one of the most unpleasant experiences of his life.
"But she's so pale."
"That's from the blood loss. That will improve in the next day or two, too. All her vital signs are good, considering. Try not to worry too much."
Mulder noticed that Maggie had approached her daughter's bedside, and was softly stroking her cheek. He looked at the nurse again. "How long will she sleep?"
"She'll probably sleep most of the next day. She's on a lot of painkillers right now. But she'll probably wake up a little bit from time to time. You'll get to talk to her. But don't be surprised if she doesn't remember it later! If you have any more questions, I'm right outside. I'll be in to check on her in a little while."
She left, and Mulder continued to take stock of his partner. He looked down at his feet and saw the urine collection bag hooked to the end of a bed. A catheter. Yuck. The IV in her right arm was a regular one. The one in her left was hooked through one of those pump regulators. But she wasn't hooked to any sort of heart monitor, and she wasn't on oxygen. That had to be good, right?
"Look at how strong she's breathing, Fox. And her skin is nice and warm. She looks good, considering, I think." Maggie was whispering, lest she wake her daughter.
Mulder looked at the woman incredulously. Good? No, her daughter looked "good" when she turned up for dinner in casual clothes when they were on the road on a case. She looked "good" when he knocked on her hotel room door in the middle of the night and she answered it in that big bathrobe of hers. She looked "good" when _he_ woke up in a hospital bed and hers was the first face he saw. This was not "good." Not at all.
Suddenly Scully moved an arm, turned her head, and moaned. Mulder went to her side and bent down to look at her, willing her to open her eyes, and let his be the first face she saw. But he didn't try to wake her, she didn't open her eyes, and soon her breathing resumed the rhythmic pattern of someone asleep. Mulder stood up, and surveyed the room. Only one chair. He picked it up and put it down behind Maggie, pushing it into the back of her legs so she would sit. She protested.
"But Fox, you've been on your feet all day. You sit."
"I couldn't. I can't. It's okay, Maggie. I'm fine. If I want to sit I'll go and find another chair." The woman frowned slightly, but she sat and reached up, covering her daughter's hand with one of her own.
Mulder was exhausted. He knew if he sat down, he might fall asleep, and he might miss it. He might miss the moment when she finally opened her eyes. How many times had she been there for him? How many times was her face the first one he saw? He couldn't count how many. And he'd never had the chance to repay the favor. Not once had he been there for her at that moment, there to smile and say "hey" as her eyes opened. He was determined to be there this time.
+ + + + +
His cell phone rang. Both Mulder and Maggie jumped at the sudden disruption of the quiet in the room. Mulder fished through his pockets until he came up with the phone. He glanced around, unsure at first if he should answer it in a hospital. It rang again, and he made the connection.
"Mulder."
"I was just informed of what happened. How is she?" Skinner.
"She's still out of it, sir. They're optimistic, though. As long as she doesn't get an infection." Mulder noticed that Maggie was looking at him quizzically, so he raised his eyebrows to tell her it was okay, and moved to the far side of the room.
"Have you seen her yet?"
"I'm with her now. She's been asleep as long as we've been here. About an hour."
"Sleep is probably the best thing for her."
"I guess so."
"I've read the preliminary report of the incident, Mulder. If only Ritter knew she was with the suspect, this might not have happened."
Mulder felt a flash of anger, but fought it off and kept his voice even. "What, sir? What does the preliminary report say?"
"It says that Agent Scully did not inform her partner" Mulder interrupted.
"_I_ am her partner," he seethed.
"All right, Mulder. It says she did not inform _Agent Ritter_ that she was returning to the suspect's residence, so he did not know she was there when he entered, and that this Fellig raised what Ritter thought was a gun toward him in a menacing fashion, so Ritter fired, and Scully was accidentally hit."
Mulder's anger was raging now. "Excuse me, sir, but that is BULL SHIT. Ritter knew Scully was there."
"How do you know that?"
"Because I _told_ him she was there."
"And you knew for certain that she was with Fellig?"
"For certain? No, of course not. I was in DC. But she's my _partner_, sir, and when we last spoke I was almost certain she was with him. She'd told me she intended to go and talk to him before Ritter arrived to pick him up. She'd asked me to check something for her, but I tried to call her, her phone was turned off. So I called Ritter. When he told me he didn't know where Scully was, I told him that I was pretty sure she was with Fellig, and that he was potentially dangerous. If he didn't know for certain that she was in that apartment, he certainly had good reason to suspect she was, and he should have acted accordingly. If they try to pin the blame for this on Scully, so help me. . . ." He couldn't finish the thought. He didn't know what he'd do.
"This is very interesting, Agent Mulder. I will make sure this new information is passed on. We may need you for the OPR review."
"Gladly, sir."
"Give Scully my best, and keep me informed about her condition."
"I will sir." Mulder slammed his phone shut, turned, and pounded his fist into the wall. Then he felt a hand on his forearm. He looked, and saw Mrs. Scully standing next to him.
"Fox? Are they trying to blame Dana for what happened?" Her voice conveyed her disbelief.
"I don't know. But I won't let them. Don't worry. It will be all right. This wasn't her fault. No way."
Maggie slid her hand down Mulder's arm and grasped his hand for a moment, then turned and returned to her daughter's side.
Mulder paced the room, his mind racing. How could anyone think this was her fault? Why would anyone even _try_ to say this was her fault? Look at her! It was that asshole's fault, Ritter. That inexperienced, gung-ho s.o.b. Oh God. Ritter was a green rookie, and Mulder had sent him in there with the knowledge that he'd been right, that Fellig was a murderer. He'd probably gone in there, guns blazing like Wyatt Earp.
Mulder turned to look at Scully again--broken and in pain, horribly injured.
And maybe it was partially his fault. The thought horrified him, but maybe it was true. Maybe he shouldn't have given that brat the justification he needed to go in there with guns drawn. He knew Ritter was a puppy. He'd seen that the minute he met him. That was also when he knew Ritter was brash, self-confident, a real go-getter. He saw it in his eyes, and he recognized many of the same characteristics he himself had possessed when he was fresh from the Academy. And that's probably why he'd taken an instant dislike to the guy. Deep down he had to have known Ritter was potentially dangerous. Why had he told Ritter that he'd been right about Fellig? Why the hell hadn't he just kept that to himself until he'd gotten up here? If he'd kept his mouth shut, maybe Ritter wouldn't have been in such a goddamn hurry to make the collar. Maybe he wouldn't have fired. Maybe Scully would have been okay.
His thoughts were interrupted by a moan. Mulder refocused his eyes on his partner; he saw her face grimace in pain, and her tongue sneak out to lick her lips. She was awake.
Mulder rushed to her side and crouched at the knees so his face was at her eye level. He took her hand and ran his other hand through her hair. He looked across the bed at Mrs. Scully, and saw her nod.
"Scully?
Dana turned her head slightly, and moaned again.
"Scully? Can you hear me? Open your eyes."
She turned back toward Mulder's voice, and licked her lips again. Mulder watched her intently, again willing her to open her eyes for him. After a moment, she complied, and her eyes fluttered open.
Mulder's smile was one of relief more than anything. He was almost laughing when he said "Hey."
Her voice was barely a whisper. "Hey." Confusion swept across her tired features. "What?"
"You were shot, Scully. At Fellig's. Do you remember?"
She shook her head.
"But you're gonna be okay. Everything's gonna be fine now. Do you understand?"
She nodded, then smacked her lips together again. "Thirsty."
Mulder caught Maggie's movement as she went toward the door. "Ice chips, Maggie. She can't drink anything, I don't think." He turned back toward Scully. "You're mom's here too. You're going to be just fine." The relief of seeing her blue eyes looking back at him again, and of hearing her voice overcame him for a moment, and he almost cried, but he fought it off. "I'm sorry, Scully. I'm so sorry this happened to you."
She looked puzzled, and mumbled "Not your fault."
"Still, I'm sorry."
Maggie returned with a cup of ice and a spoon, and Mulder moved out of the way so they could have a moment. He made his way to the end of her bed and watched as Maggie lovingly fed ice chips to her daughter.
+ + + + +
Scully's moans woke Mulder up. He didn't realize he'd fallen asleep, and looked at his watch quickly--4:15 a.m. He'd been asleep for an hour almost, no doubt lulled to sleep by the periodic sound of the suction attached to Scully's NG tube. He looked across the bed and saw Maggie, still asleep in the chair on her daughter's right. Scully moaned again, and Mulder leaned forward.
"Scully, are you awake?"
"Mmmmm."
"Are you okay, Scully?"
"Hurts." She said it almost as a small, helpless child would.
"I know it hurts, Scully. Try to go back to sleep."
"Can't. Hurts. Make it stop. Please make it stop."
Make it stop. Oh, if only he could make it stop, Scully. He'd do just about anything if he could make it stop.
"I'll be right back. I'll go get the nurse."
"Make it stop." Mulder got up and left.
The nurse's station was almost deserted. There was only one nurse there, but she looked up and smiled. "Mr. Mulder. Is everything okay?" Everyone on this shift knew he and Maggie were in with Scully, and had no intention of leaving. They had all acquiesced, moving around them when they went in to care for the patient. None of them even complained or asked them to leave.
"No. She's awake, and in pain. She's begging me to make it stop."
The nurse smiled sympathetically. "Poor thing. Let me check, but I think it's another hour before we hang her next pain meds." She got up and punched Scully's name into the computer. "Yup, another hour." She looked up at Mulder and shrugged. "Sorry."
"I don't think she can last another hour." Or maybe it was him who couldn't last an hour listening to her moans. He didn't know for sure, and he didn't care. All he knew was that she was in pain, and he wanted to help her.
"Let me come in and take a look. Sometimes it's not as bad as the patient makes it sound, you know. She's still pretty groggy. She might not know what she's saying."
They both returned to the room, and when they opened the door they were greeted with the sound of Scully almost screaming. "It hurts, mom, make it stop! Make it stop!" Maggie was standing helplessly by her daughter, stroking her hair.
Mulder rushed to the bedside, and turned back to address the nurse. "I think she knows what she is saying."
The nurse followed Mulder, and he moved aside to let her have access to his partner. She felt Scully's forehead, and checked the IV. She fiddled with the IV tubing, then pushed a button on the pump. "The tubing got kinked, which turned off the pump. Normally an alarm goes off when that happens, but it must be broken on this one. When we change the bags next time we'll change the pump. She should be okay in a few minutes." She turned back to Scully.
"Dana? Dana, listen to me. Calm down, honey. The pain will go away in just a few minutes, okay?"
Mulder was prowling the end of the bed, and he noticed perspiration on Scully's face. "Does she have a fever? She's sweating."
"No, I don't think so. I think that's from the exertion. But I'll check." She pulled an aural thermometer out of the pocket of her scrub jacket, showed it to Mulder with a grin, and stuck it into Scully's ear. After a moment it beeped, and she pulled it out. "Nope, normal. That's excellent. She'll be okay in a minute, I'm sure. Give us a call, though, if she doesn't settle down soon, okay?"
"I don't know what to do for her." Mulder was surprised to realize he had said that out loud.
The nurse smiled at him and touched his hand. "Just be here."
Mulder watched the nurse leave, and resumed his position on Scully's left. She was moaning constantly, and her head would periodically thrash from side to side. Mulder held her hand, but he didn't have a clue what to say to her. He contented himself with stroking her hand, and let Maggie try and calm Dana with her voice. But he felt helpless, useless. Seeing Dana like this was killing him. He heard the door open and the nurse returned, with a basin and a washcloth.
"Here, Mr. Mulder, why don't you wipe her brow. It's usually very soothing." He smiled appreciatively. He knew what she was doing. He knew this task was akin to having an expectant father boil water--it was more to make him feel useful than to actually do anything for Scully. But still, he silently thanked the nurse for taking the time to help him feel useful. He picked up the washcloth, squeezed out the excess water, and placed it on Scully's brow. When she felt the coolness of the cloth, Scully stopped thrashing. Mulder looked over at Maggie, who grinned at him.
+ + + + +
"Agent Mulder?" Mulder awoke with a start. He'd fallen asleep in the chair again. He immediately looked at Scully, who was asleep, before he looked at the person addressing him. It was a woman he'd never seen before.
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry to wake you, Agent Mulder, but I have to get down to work. You met my husband yesterday, Agent Lopez?"
Mulder sat up and wiped his eyes. "Yeah. Yes, I did."
"He told me about what happened. I'm so sorry. Anyway, he was worried about your partner, so he asked me to check on her. I work here in the Medical Center."
"Oh, I told him I'd call. I didn't. I'm sorry."
The woman smiled. "Oh, no, Agent Mulder. Don't worry about it. I think you had more important things on your mind. I brought you some bagels. How is she?"
Mulder took the proffered bag silently, then sized Scully up for a moment. "She's okay now. There was a rough patch last night. She's in a lot of pain when she's awake." He looked at his watch. It was almost 7 a.m.
"I can imagine. This is all such a shame. Such a tragic accident."
Mulder felt his blood pressure rise. Maybe some day he'd be able to refer to this as an "accident," but not yet, and the very suggestion that it was offended him deeply. But this woman was not the person to vent to.
"Why don't you walk me to my office? I bet you need to stretch your legs."
"No, Mrs. Lopez, I'm fine. I don't want to go far--in case she wakes up, or in case the doctor comes."
"I understand, Agent Mulder." She looked at her watch. "I'd better get going, or I'll be late." She took a piece of paper out of her coat pocket and handed it to him. "This is my number here in the hospital. I work in the billing department. If you need anything, just call me, okay? I'll see what I can do. I've worked here close to 20 years. That has to count for something!" She smiled.
"I will, Mrs. Lopez. Thank you for these," he held up the bag slightly, "and for your concern."
"My pleasure, Agent Mulder. We know you're far from home, so please feel free to make use of us if you can." She left.
Another one. Another stranger taking time out of her life for them. Mulder couldn't get over it. Did this sort of stuff happen routinely, and he'd just been blind to it? Was that it? Or was this case special, because Scully's injury was such a God awful mistake? But no, the cab driver hadn't known what had happened. His coffee machine friend hadn't known. Is it possible that the circumstances of his life these last few years had caused him to lose sight of the fact that most people are basically good? Hmmm. That was something worth thinking about.
But not right now, because Mulder had looked up, and found a pair of blue eyes watching him. When he met Scully's stare, she smiled slightly, and spoke.
"Hey."
"Hey yourself. Good morning. You gave us quite a scare yesterday."
THE END