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By dee_ayy
November 6, 1999
Disclaimer: They’re not mine, but the owners, 1013 Productions and that nasty corporation 20th Century Fox, left them languishing, untouched, for six months! What did they expect us to do?
Rating: PG-13
Category: MT, pure and simple.
But only minor.
Spoilers: Not one.
Archive: Why sure. Just let me know, please.
Feedback: Need I go into this again? I live and breathe for feedback. Any fan fic writer who says otherwise has to be lying! dee_ayy@yahoo.com
Thanks: To Keryn. And you call ME a stickler for details!!! Hey Peggy and Peggy, this one’s for you. And Vickie, you know I hate you. Always have, always will.
Note: This was written to try and cure “starter’s block” on something else I want to write. It’s nothing special, just another case of me applying an injury suffered by a friend of mine to Agent Mulder.
Summary: Mulder puts it best when he says “I fell boom.” Really, that’s about it.
___________________________________________
Mountains out of Molehills
By dee_ayy
“Agent Mulder, are you all right?”
Mulder looked up from the self-inspection he was performing to find SAC Thompson looking down at him. The whole thing had gone sour in a second, and before they’d known what happened, bullets and suspects had been flying everywhere. Mulder had made a leap for the feet of one of them who was vaulting over a fence at the end of the driveway--and he’d missed, landing hard on the pavement where he now found himself. Guess it was taking him a little time to get up.
“Yeah, yeah, I think so sir.”
“You’re bleeding, Mulder.”
“I am? Where?” Mulder looked down at himself. Though he was smudged with dirt, he didn’t see anything else. But as he looked, as if on cue, a drop of blood fell on the white expanse of his shirt.
“Your chin.” The SAC swiped at his own chin lightly and Mulder mimicked the motion, coming away with a swath of red across his left fingertips. Shit.
“Here, get up.” The man offered his hand to help pull his agent to his feet, and Mulder took it with his right hand, ignoring the pain he felt as he straightened his elbow. But when the standing man gave the arm a jerk meant to yank Mulder up, a sharp pain shot through his arm, and he was forced to let go, landing back on the pavement with a thump.
“Ahh, Fuck!” Mulder cradled his arm against his chest protectively. He looked up and saw his supervising agent motioning toward someone. Only when the other agent arrived did the SAC speak. “Did you hurt your legs too, Mulder?”
Mulder felt like a total moron, sitting on the pavement holding his right arm while these two men stood over him. He looked at his arm in disgust, and watched yet another drop of blood soil his dress shirt. How did he manage to do this stuff to himself, anyway?
“No, sir. I’m fine.” To prove his point Mulder ignored the throbbing in his right arm and used his left to push himself to his feet. When he was standing he again touched his chin and came away with more blood on it. “I must have hit my chin. You wouldn’t happen to have a handkerchief or something?”
Thompson didn’t answer, and turned to the man he’d called over. “Agent Mulder appears to have suffered an arm injury. Take him around front and if either of the ambulances is still here, put him in one of them. If not, see that he’s driven over to the Medical Center.”
“I’m fine, sir, really. I must have just banged my elbow, that’s all. It’s fine.”
Thompson looked at him sternly, but with compassion as well. “While you are in Ohio, Agent Mulder, you are my responsibility. I won’t have you walking around wounded. Go get yourself checked out.” He reached into his pocket and came up with a handkerchief, which he handed over. “Let me know how you’re doing.” He turned and walked away, leaving Mulder with this stranger.
Mulder pressed the cloth firmly into his chin in an effort to stop the bleeding, and started to walk away from the man, into the house they had been preparing to enter. He’d find Scully later and she’d give him a Band-Aid and an icepack, and he’d be fine. Right now he wanted to know how had they had known the calvary was coming.
“Excuse me, Agent Mulder, but where are you going?”
Mulder looked back absentmindedly. “Huh? Oh, inside. You think they had some sort of early-warning system in there?”
“SAC Thompson told you to go to the hospital.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know, but it’s okay. If it doesn’t loosen up I’ll have my partner check it out later.” Mulder flexed his elbow gingerly. It did still move. That was all he cared about, and he started to walk away.
He stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t think you understand, Agent Mulder. I have been given an order to see that you receive medical attention.”
Geezus, what was this? Boot camp? “Yeah, I know, I get it. But don’t worry about it--I won’t rat you out.”
“No, I don’t think you do get it. Thompson is fanatical about injuries. Rumor has it that he once had an agent working under him with a cut on his arm that got so infected he almost lost the limb; almost died. Thompson never noticed until it was almost too late. Ever since then agents under him are sent off to be checked out for every hangnail. If he says get checked out, you get checked out. No questions, no discussions.”
Mulder grinned. “Lucky for me I’m just an exchange student in this school. Tell you what. Help me find my partner, and you will have accomplished your mission. She’s a doctor. Anyone get hurt for real? She’d probably be with them.”
“Yeah, one of ours took one in the leg, one of theirs got it in the neck.”
Mulder cringed, and started to walk toward the front of the house rather than inside, with his keeper in tow. They got there just as one ambulance was pulling away, and paramedics were loading the agent who’d been shot in the leg into their truck. Mulder walked up to the back of the vehicle and looked inside, hoping to see his partner, but she wasn’t there.
He turned to yet another agent standing there watching the action. “You seen Agent Scully? Redhead, about yea tall?” He used his left hand to indicate her petite size.
The man nodded. “Yeah, she went with the guy in the other ambulance. That poor bastard got it bad.”
Mulder nodded. “Who shot him?”
“He did.” The man motioned toward the injured agent being worked on in the ambulance. “After he went down, too. Nice shooting.”
Mulder nodded again. “Tit for tat.” He turned to walk away, hoping his shadow had abandoned him. But not only was he still standing there, Thompson was closing in fast. Shit.
Thompson walked past Mulder and up to the doors of the ambulance. “How’s he doing?” he asked the interior of the truck.
One of the paramedics looked up. “Looks like he’ll be okay.”
Thompson nodded. “You got room for one more back there? Arm injury?”
“Really, sir!” Mulder started to protest.
“Get in the ambulance, Agent Mulder,” Thompson said as he again walked away. Mulder looked at the agent who had been with him, and saw him shrug and motion toward the open doors. Reluctantly, Mulder climbed inside, took a seat, and watched the doors close them in. A second later the vehicle was on the move. Well, this was one way to catch up with Scully, anyway.
The agent on the gurney was no more than a kid, Mulder noted. When did they start getting so young? When did he get so old? The boy looked scared out of his wits, He was breathing heavily and staring at the ceiling of the ambulance.
“Want me to take a look at that?” Mulder turned his head toward the voice and saw the paramedic pointing at his chin. He’d almost forgotten about that, and took the handkerchief away and inspected it. Still bleeding, apparently.
“No, I’m okay. Take care of the kid.” The sound of his voice must have made the other agent realize he was there, and the young man turned his head and looked at him. Mulder grinned at him slightly. “Leg, huh? I took one in the leg once. Hurts like a bitch, I know.” He let his eyes wander down to the wound--it was about halfway between hip and knee, but toward the outside of his thigh. “It’s off-center. That’s good. Mine nicked the femoral artery; blood was just pumping out of it. You’ll be okay. Just relax.”
The paramedic listened to what Mulder said before he continued. “He’s doing great. What’d you do to your arm?”
Mulder flexed his elbow in response to the question, and winced. It felt worse. “I dunno. I took a spill. Must have banged my elbow.”
The paramedic took Mulder’s forearm in his hand, and turned it over to look at the palm. That movement caused such a sharp pain that Mulder actually gasped. “Pavement rash,” the medic said, pointing out the scrapes on Mulder’s palm that the agent hadn’t even noticed. “You didn’t land on your elbow. Let’s take your jacket off.”
Mulder rolled his eyes but acquiesced, and slid his left arm out of his jacket, allowing the other man to slide it off his right arm. The paramedic then felt Mulder’s elbow through the fabric of his shirt, and flexed the joint several times. “I think we better immobilize this.”
“What on earth for? It’s fine!”
“It might be broken, dislocated. There’s no way of knowing for sure. And if it is, every time you move it you might be causing more damage.” The medic was unwrapping a large roll of Ace bandage.
“Aren’t we almost there? I won’t move it. What difference does it make?”
The man smiled. “Exactly. What difference does it make?” He placed Mulder’s right arm against his chest, with the elbow at a 90-degree angle. “That comfortable?” He took Mulder’s silence as a yes, and proceeded to secure the arm to the agent’s body with the bandage. When he finished Mulder leaned back with an exasperated sigh.
But he only got more annoyed when the medic pulled the handkerchief away and replaced it with a gauze bandage, which he unceremoniously--and unattractively, Mulder was sure--taped in place on his chin.
Satisfied, the paramedic turned his attention back to the more seriously injured man.
+ + + + +
Scully pushed through the doors of the ER ladies’ room. She took note of the shocked look on the face of the woman leaving, and when she looked at herself she could see why. She’d worn gloves, of course, but still the cuffs of her blouse were soaked in blood, and there were spots on the front of it, too. And when she looked in the mirror she saw a streak of blood along the side of her face. She must have touched herself at some point--probably when she had unconsciously pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Very professional, Dana.
She set to washing her face. At times like this she really regretted that “M.D.” after her name. The minute she saw the guy she knew he was gonna bleed out on them, yet she was obligated to do her best to keep him alive until they got him to the hospital. Another suit sacrificed for the sake of some punk who wasn’t gonna make it anyway. Without those two letters after her name she’d be back at the scene, wrapping things up with Mulder, and thinking about what to have for dinner. Now here she was, forced to wait around, perhaps for hours, until they were told what she knew they’d hear, that their suspect was dead.
She finished drying her hands and pulled the door open, only to find Agent O’Neill, who had followed in a car, waiting for her. “He’s dead,” he said simply.
Scully nodded. “As I expected. Can you take me back to the scene? I need to catch up with my partner.” At least they’d been spared the long wait.
The man nodded, and they left.
+ + + + +
Mulder wandered around the treatment room he’d been placed in, glancing at the various equipment and supplies arranged on the shelves. He’d been taken in immediately, despite his minor injuries, and asked to wait here. Because he was an FBI Agent, he supposed; officers of the law always went to the head of the class. By rights he should be sitting in the waiting room, waiting his turn. But it was a small hospital, and therefore not too busy. Maybe there wasn’t anyone in the waiting room. Two gunshots in one day was probably more excitement than this place saw in a month.
He was about to wander out in search of Scully when a woman came in. Mulder knew a nurse when he saw one.
“Hi there,” she smiled at him. “What happened to you?”
“I fell boom.”
The nurse chuckled. “Well, you’ve come to the right place, then. My name’s Peggy. Come have a seat, I need to ask you a few questions.”
“If it’s all the same to you, Peggy, I’d rather stand.” But he did move closer to the nurse.
“Suit yourself, for the time-being, anyway. All I’ve got so far is ‘Agent Mulder.’”
Mulder smiled. “Mulder, Fox. Don’t ask, don’t use it. Age 38. Birth date October thirteenth, nineteen sixty-one. Six feet, One-seventy. Good health, no allergies, not currently taking any medications.” He reached behind himself with his left hand, pulled his wallet out of his pants pocket, and tossed it onto the gurney between them. “Address, insurance information, all that good stuff’s in there. How’s that?”
The woman smiled as she wrote the information on her form, then she opened his wallet and pulled out his insurance card and driver’s license. “That’s a good start; I’ll just borrow these for a bit. You wouldn’t happen to know your pulse and BP, would you?” She looked up at him.
“Not today, Peggy, sorry.”
The nurse patted the surface of the gurney. “Well, then, I need you to take a seat. Sorry.” Mulder hopped up silently, and let the woman unbutton the left sleeve of his shirt and push it up, pausing to take his pulse.
“I’ve always wondered why it’s necessary to take a blood pressure for a bump on the elbow.”
Peggy grinned at him again as she applied the BP cuff. “Standard operating procedure, Agent Mulder. Wouldn’t want you coming in here for a bump on the elbow only to die of internal bleeding, would we? So tell me what happened.” She pumped up the cuff.
“I went for a diving tackle, and I came up with air. Rather embarrassing, actually.” Mulder felt the pressure leave the cuff.
“Happens to the best of them, don’t you think?” Peggy jotted the information on her form, and turned her attention to Mulder’s chin. “Did you land hard?” She removed the paramedic’s makeshift bandage.
“I didn’t think so. Personally, I think I’m wasting your time here.”
The nurse was looking at the cut on his chin. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I think you might need a few stitches in there.” Mulder put his hand up in an attempt to feel the wound, but the nurse gently swatted it away.
“How big is it?”
“Not big, but it’s a decent split.” She replaced the bandage. “Don’t worry, women find scars attractive.” Mulder just looked at her disapprovingly, and her eyes twinkled as she smiled. “Any time someone cuts their face, they immediately want to know about the scar. And I’m sure you’re no different! You’ll hardly notice it, I bet. What’s the complaint with your arm? I won’t unwrap it, I’ll let the doctor do that.”
“My elbow hurts a little. Kinda stiff. I must have banged it. It’s nothing.”
“Uh huh.”
“Hey, how’s the kid that came in with me--shot in the leg?”
“I don’t know, sorry.”
“What about the other guy?”
“Sorry, he didn’t make it.”
“Ahhh, he was the bad guy.”
“I’m done here. The doctor should be in any minute now. You stay put, okay?”
Mulder smiled inwardly. How did she know his inclination was to wander off? “Um, can you do me a favor? My partner came in with the suspect. Small redheaded woman, Agent Scully. If you see her around, could you point her my way?”
Peggy nodded. “Sure thing. Catch you later.” And she was gone.
+ + + + +
When Scully finally arrived back at the scene most of the action she saw seemed to be the gathering of forensic evidence. She didn’t see her partner’s familiar form in the yard, so she headed inside. When she got to the last room at the back of the building without finding him, she decided to ask someone.
“Excuse me, do you know where my partner, Agent Mulder, is?” She was met with a blank stare and a shrug. God, she hated it when they got stuck on these operations with a bunch of strangers. She headed out into the back yard.
+ + + + +
“Agent Mulder. Dr. Towson. Nice to meetcha. Let’s take a look.” The doctor unceremoniously peeled up one side of the bandage that Peggy had put in place on his chin only moments earlier. “Oooh, nice one. You fell?”
Mulder nodded silently, fully aware that the motion would disrupt the doctor.
“Do you know what you hit your chin on?”
“No. I wasn’t even aware that I’d hit it.”
The doctor reapplied the bandage and felt along Mulder’s jaw line. “Does your jaw hurt at all?”
Mulder shook his head, jarring the doctor’s grasp. Just to be contrary.
“Open and close your mouth several times for me.” Mulder did, while the doctor kept his fingers at the back of his jaw. “Any pain? Do you feel your jaw click or anything like that?”
“Nope.”
“How about your teeth? Did you hit them?”
“Nope. Look, doc, it’s fine. It doesn’t even hurt.”
“You must have hit it just right to split it open. I’m guessing four stitches. Let’s take a look at your arm.” The man unwrapped the Ace bandage, and silently took note of the scrapes along Mulder’s palm. “How’d you fall?”
Mulder flexed his shoulder, suddenly relieved to be freed from the bandage, but left his elbow bent. “I was chasing someone, and he was getting away, so I went for him. Tried to take out his knees. What do they call it in the NFL? A coffee-table block? I missed.”
“Uh huh. So you landed like this,” the doctor demonstrated by extending his arms out in front of himself with his palms facing out, “with your arms outstretched?”
Mulder shrugged. “I suppose. I scraped my hand, so it must have landed first. I must have jarred my elbow. But it doesn’t hurt that much, either.”
The doctor nodded, and rolled the sleeve of Mulder’s shirt up past the joint. He inspected it and felt it in various places. “Just the elbow? Your shoulder and wrist are okay?” He lifted his patient’s arm up and tested the shoulder’s range of motion.
“Yeah, they’re fine.”
The doctor proceeded to flex Mulder’s elbow with one hand, keeping the other on the joint. He bent it up toward his shoulder, which was fine, and then he straightened it. As soon as the joint went past 90 degrees, Mulder began to flinch. By the time it was straight, Mulder’s teeth were clenched. “Hurts?”
“Yeah, a little.”
The doctor let go of the arm. “Can you flex it for me? Bend it all the way up and then straighten it out.”
Mulder gladly folded his arm up again, an action that greatly alleviated the pain. And when he straightened it, the pain returned once he went past 90 degrees again, but it wasn’t as bad as the first time. It must have just been stiff. Once he got it straight, Mulder returned it to its bent position.
“Okay, good.” The doctor next took Mulder’s forearm and placed his patient’s hand in his own, with the palm up. “Can you touch each of your fingers to your thumb for me?” Mulder did. “Okay, now push each finger up against the resistance of mine.” He went one finger at a time, pushing against each finger. “Any weakness, tingling?” Mulder shook his head. “But it hurts?”
“Yeah. A little.”
“Uh huh. Now flex your wrist for me.” Mulder bent his wrist up and down and side to side. He was able to hide the pain it caused from showing on his face.
“Okay, good. Now flip your wrist over for me, so your palm is facing down.”
Mulder did, and it sent a sharp, intense pain coursing down the length of his arm, causing him to breathe in sharply.
The doctor was nonplussed. “Yup. We’ll get a couple of x-rays and see what we’ve got.” He returned Mulder’s arm to his lap. “Someone will be in to get you in a bit,” he said as he was walking out.
+ + + + +
Scully came back around to the front of the building. Not only couldn’t she find Mulder, but she couldn’t find anyone she recognized who might know Mulder. Yet their car was still parked down the block where Mulder had parked it. Where the hell had he gone this time?
She decided to try one more person, and approached an agent leaning against the railing to the staircase.
“Excuse me, but you wouldn’t happen to have seen my Partner, Fox Mulder, around here anywhere? Tall, thin, dark hair, distinctive nose?”
The guy looked at her for a long moment, and Scully couldn’t tell if he was thinking, or checking her out. Bastard. Finally, he spoke.
“Mulder? Name’s familiar. Yeah, I think Tony said he was one of the guys they sent off in the ambulance.”
Scully felt her pulse quicken. “Ambulance? What for? Who’s Tony? Where is he?”
“Tony’s gone, back to the office, I think.”
Scully looked around quickly. “What about SAC Thompson? Where’s he?”
“He’s gone too, ma’am. He escorted a couple of suspects to lockup.”
Scully shook her head in disgust. “Did _Tony_ mention what happened to Agent Mulder?”
“Nope. We were talking about Andy, the kid who took one in the leg, and Tony mentioned that they put that Mulder guy--your partner--in the ambulance with him. I didn’t see it.” Finally the man clued in to the worry on the woman’s face, and his voice took on a compassionate tone. “Look, if it was bad we’d all know about it. You know the way news like that spreads. You want someone to drive you over to the hospital?”
“No, it’s okay. I was just there, I know my way back, and my car is down the street. But if the SAC asks, could you tell him that Agent Scully went back to the hospital to see about her partner?”
The man smiled. “Sure thing.”
+ + + + +
“So tell me, Peggy, why can’t I walk to x-ray? I’m perfectly capable, you know.” The nurse was pushing him in a wheelchair.
“I know, but that’s not standard operating procedure, Agent Mulder. Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”
“Don’t you have better things to do?”
Peggy let out a laugh. “I suppose I do, but I don’t mind giving you the VIP treatment. Here we are. I’ll be right back.” She left the wheelchair in the empty waiting area, and went inside. A moment later she came back out. “They’ll be right out to get you. See you later.”
Mulder removed his feet from the chair’s footrests and stretched them out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles. He suddenly thought of Scully, and realized that she hadn’t found him yet, and that he hadn’t made any effort to contact her, either. She had to be around here somewhere, but he knew how hospitals felt about cell phone use. They’d need to hook up soon.
A woman poked her head out the door. “Mr. Mulder? Come on in.”
Mulder was taken aback. “You mean I get to walk?”
The woman smiled. “As long as you don’t walk on your elbow!” Mulder stood and went inside.
“My name’s Peggy.” Mulder snorted. “What?”
“I’ve only met ‘Peggys’ since I got here. Are you all named Peggy?”
The woman smiled. “Nope, only the two of us. That gets confusing enough, though. Have a seat.” She patted a stool next to the x-ray table, and Mulder sat. The woman picked up his injured arm and placed it on the table with the elbow bent at a right angle, and his thumb pointing at the ceiling. “Hold your arm right there.” She picked up a lead apron. “Can you pick up your left arm for me?” He lifted it up off his lap and she put the apron there.
Mulder looked down at the shield in place, then up at the woman. “My descendents thank you.”
As Peggy was taking her place behind the lead window, she suddenly realized what he’d said, and she chuckled as she took the x-ray. She came back out, changed the films, and laid Mulder’s arm out straight, with his palm facing up. Mulder winced. “Sorry. Can you hold that for a sec?” Mulder nodded. “Groovy.”
“_Groovy_?”
The technologist smiled “Sorry. Watching too many bad 70s reruns on TV, I guess.” She took the picture, then changed the films once more. “Last one. Keep your arm extended, and just twist your wrist as far as you can to the right. Try to point your pinky up at the ceiling.”
Mulder did, and again experienced the shooting pain up his arm. His grimace intensified, but he didn’t make a noise, and the x-ray was taken.
“Okay, that’s all. Let me develop these and I’ll take you back.”
+ + + + +
Mulder was again sitting on the gurney in his treatment room. He’d only been waiting about five minutes, not even long enough to devise a plan for finding Scully, when the doctor returned. If only service was this prompt in all hospitals.
“Well, Agent Mulder, it looks like you have a fracture!”
“No way!” Mulder couldn’t believe it. “I didn’t land that hard! I couldn’t have! And I didn’t land on my elbow, either. How could I have?”
“It’s called a radial head fracture. I can show you the x-rays, but they barely show up so I doubt you’d be able to see it.” Mulder shook his head ‘no,’ so the doctor continued. “It’s not an uncommon injury. What happened is that when you landed the force shoved your radius--the larger bone in your forearm--up into your elbow, and the head of the bone cracked a bit, or a piece broke off, when it came in contact with the humerus.”
Mulder shook his head in disbelief. “Okay. So now what do you do?”
The doctor smiled. “For yours? Nothing, really, it’s not that bad. We’ll put you in a sling for a week or so, give you some exercises to start doing immediately, repeat the x-rays in a week to make sure it doesn’t become displaced. Just let it heal.”
“In a week I’ll be back home in D.C.”
“That’s not a problem. We’ll write up your diagnosis and your orders, send you home with your x-rays, and you can follow up with any orthopedist. Your GP can recommend someone, I’m sure. Peggy’s tracking down a sling for you, so let’s get to stitching up your chin, and you can be on your way, okay?” The doctor produced a syringe. He identified and swabbed a spot on Mulder’s jaw, and pinched the skin there. “This is a local. It’s gonna sting, but it would be a lot worse if I didn’t give it to you. It should feel like a shot of novocaine at the dentist.” With that admonition he slowly inserted the needle and administered the drug. “I’ll give that a few minutes to numb you up, and be right back. It should numb your lower lip as well as your chin, so don’t be surprised.” He turned to leave and passed Peggy coming in as he was going out.
+ + + + +
Scully pushed through the doors to the ER for the second time in less than two hours. She went straight to the desk and waited 30 seconds for someone to notice. When that wasn’t forthcoming, she cleared her throat.
A desk clerk looked up and grinned at her, apparently recognizing her from before. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m looking for my partner, Fox Mulder. He’s an FBI agent,” she flashed her badge for good measure, “and I understand he was injured.”
The clerk thought for a moment, then looked at the charts in the stand behind the desk. “Hmmm.”
Just then a nurse walked by, and the clerk called out to her. “Hey, Kate! Fox Mulder?”
The woman barely stopped “Last I heard he was in x-ray.”
Scully sighed. X-ray? What the hell had he done? “Where’s x-ray?”
+ + + + +
Peggy was adjusting the sling around Mulder’s neck. “The nylon strap on these things will rub your neck raw, so be sure to only wear things with a collar or a turtleneck. That’s my only piece of advice! Dr. Towson will be back in a sec to stitch you up.”
The nurse pulled the door open, and as she did Mulder heard a very familiar voice. “Where’s x-ray?” it was saying, and he chuckled. So Scully had found him after all. He hopped off the bed and reached the door just as it clicked shut behind the nurse.
The agent pulled it open and poked his head out. There was Scully, standing at the desk, waiting for some answers. He always marveled at his petite partner’s ability to strike such a commanding pose despite her lack of height. He went through the door and leaned as casually as he could against the wall.
“You wouldn’t be looking for me by any chance, Agent Scully?”
Scully’s head snapped around at the first sound of his voice, and Mulder caught the unmistakable look of relief that briefly spread across her features before she replaced it with a look of annoyance and approached him.
“Good God, Mulder, what did you do this time? Are you okay?”
Mulder smiled, and noted that only his top lip was moving according to plan. “I fell. I’m okay. Fine. Just waiting on a couple of stitches in my chin.”
Scully touched his jaw but didn’t disturb the bandage covering the wound. “What about your arm?” She lightly ran her hand across the fabric of the sling encasing it.
“Cracked a bone. Radial something or other.”
“Radial Head Fracture?”
“Yeah, that’s it.”
“Did they tell you what type?”
“No. But the doctor said it wasn’t too bad.”
“Probably type I then. That’s good. Why didn’t you call me? I’ve been looking all over for you.”
Mulder turned and opened the door to the treatment room, holding it until Scully entered. “I thought you were still here, and that I’d catch up with you.” He leaned against the gurney but did not sit.
“The guy was dead before we got here, practically. I left to go meet back up with you. I should have checked here first. Should have known better.” She was shaking her head.
“No fair, Scully, I haven’t done something like this in a long time.”
Scully just arched her eyebrows incredulously, but said nothing to contradict him. “How bad is the cut on your chin?”
Mulder jutted it out in her direction. “I dunno, take a look. Four stitches, they said.”
Scully didn’t take the offer. “Only four? That’s nothing. Did something cut you?”
“I couldn’t tell you. I didn’t even know it was cut.”
Peggy chose that moment to return with a suture tray, and smiled with surprise at seeing the woman in the room with her patient. “Your partner, I presume?”
Mulder nodded. “Yup. I found her myself.” He turned his attention back to Scully. “Peggy here says women find facial scars sexy, Scully. What do you say?”
Scully looked pensive for a moment. “Well, Harrison Ford has a great scar on his chin.”
Peggy agreed “Oh, he does, doesn’t he?”
“But I don’t think yours will be that good, Mulder, not if it’s only four stitches. Sorry.”
“No, it won’t be nearly that big. I don’t think you’ll even notice it.” The nurse had finished setting up the tray, just in time for the doctor’s entrance. “All set, Dr. Towson. Take care, Agent Mulder,” and she took her leave.
“Doctor, this is my partner, Agent Scully. Scully, Dr. Towson.” The two people nodded their greetings.
“Okay, Agent Mulder, I need you to lay down for this, if you don’t mind.” Mulder hopped gracefully up on the bed, swung his legs up, and laid down. The doctor sat at the head of the gurney, adjusting it so the head was slightly reclined, making Mulder’s head fall lower than the rest of his body. He didn’t protest. He also could feel the doctor poking at his chin with something, but didn’t mention it. “Did you feel that? Did it hurt?”
“I felt pressure. That’s all.”
“Okay, good.” The doctor unfolded a cloth with a hole in the middle, which he placed over Mulder’s face leaving only his chin exposed.
“Umm, doc, I’m not squeamish. No need to cover me up like this.”
“That’s not it, Agent Mulder. We want to diminish any chance of the wound getting infected. This will take five minutes.” He removed the bandage, and Mulder suddenly knew Scully was looking at it. He could smell her.
“Is that a new scent you’re wearing, Scully?” he asked from under his shroud. “How’s it look?”
“It’s tiny, Mulder! How did you do that?”
“I’ve told you before, I have a rare gift, I guess.”
“Okay,” the doctor interrupted. “No more talking under there. Keep your mouth closed and relax.”
In mere moments the doctor had the wound stitched, antibiotic ointment applied, and he removed the drape. “There, done.”
Mulder sat up and again lifted his hand in an attempt to touch the wound. This time Scully swatted it away. “Don’t touch it, Mulder. Do you want it to get infected?”
The doctor just smiled. “Have those removed in about a week--do it all at once when you follow-up on your elbow. Now, about your elbow. The sling is just for comfort, because holding your arm at a right angle all the time can get painful and tiring. Use it for about a week, until you’re comfortable straightening your arm again. But several times a day you should take it off and flex your elbow as much as you can. Pronating, or flipping over, your wrist is what will be most painful, so avoid that motion for a bit. But you do want to keep your elbow moving as much as you can bear.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a blister pack of two pills and a prescription. “Here’s some Tylenol 3--there’s a good chance it will start throbbing any time now, so I suggest you take them. The prescription is for the same thing. Just use them if you need them, though. Any questions?”
“Yeah. I’m right-handed. What about writing, typing?”
“Take it easy for a few days, but it’s up to you. If it doesn’t hurt, go ahead. If it does, lay off.”
“Do I need to wear this thing while I’m sleeping?” Mulder lifted the sling up for emphasis.
“For a few days at least, yeah. Trust me, you’ll be more comfortable with it on. Nothing worse than moving wrong and having the pain wake you up. Anything else?”
“Not from me.” Mulder looked at his partner. “Scully?”
“It’s a Type I fracture, doctor?” The doctor looked at her, surprised at her medical knowledge. “I’m a doctor,” she offered as means of explanation.
“Oh, I see. Yes, it looks to be. No deformity, no displacement.”
Scully nodded and looked at her partner. “You’re lucky, Mulder.”
“Oh am I? Seems to me lucky people are people who don’t break bones when they fall down.”
“Well, it coulda been a lot worse, that’s all. You know that. Let’s get out of here.”
+ + + + +
Scully rapped on the door connecting their hotel rooms, pushing it open and walking through when she found it ajar. Mulder always did that when he was “decent,” a friendly invitation that for some reason she never seemed able to match--she always made him knock, but he never seemed to mind her extra need for privacy. “Hey Mulder, where’s that prescription. I’ll go get it filled for you.”
She found him in front of the bathroom sink, inspecting his stitches in the mirror. “It’s in my jacket pocket, I think, but you don’t have to fill it. I won’t need them. God, this is tiny. How did I do that?”
Scully smiled but didn’t say anything. When she stuck her hand in the pocket she not only came up with the prescription sheet, but the two pills he had been given. “Mulder, you didn’t take these.” She ventured to the bathroom door and held up the pills.
Mulder was still peering at his chin. “How am I gonna shave, though? I’ll have to grow a goatee or something.” He glanced sideways at the pills. “Don’t need them.”
Scully sighed, resigned to going through this argument yet one more time. “Mulder, pills like these work much better at preventing pain than at alleviating it. If you wait until it is throbbing, it will be too late. Just take them. It’s only Tylenol with codeine.”
“I’m surprised at you, Ms. Bee Pollen Yogurt--advocating the ingestion of chemicals when they aren’t necessary.”
Scully reached in front of her partner and turned the knob for cold water on the sink. Mulder arched his back outward to accommodate her as she filled a glass with water, but he didn’t step back or stop his inspection. She placed the glass on the counter next to him and popped the pills from the package. “You forget. I’m the person who’ll have to listen to you whine when you’re in pain. Take the pills.” She held them out, waiting for Mulder to hold out his hand.
He looked at her for a second, considering his next move, and finally stuck out his palm in defeat. As he put the pills in his mouth Scully picked up the glass and handed it to him. When he took it she turned to leave. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Think about what you want to do for dinner.”
“Change your blouse, Scully. You’ll scare the locals.”
+ + + + +
“Scully, are you sure you don’t want me to stay? I can reschedule that meeting.”
"No Mulder, there’s no point. You didn’t witness the shooting, so you can’t add anything to Thompson’s investigation. You’d just be twiddling your thumbs here, driving me crazy.”
The corners of Mulder’s lips turned up into a slight smile. She did have a point. “I’m sorta surprised that Thompson hasn’t ordered an inquiry into my injuries as well. But then, ‘agent falls boom’ doesn’t make for good copy in the weekly FBI personnel status reports, does it.”
Scully looked up from her breakfast and found her partner looking at her intently. She smiled. “No, not really Mulder, it doesn’t. How does it feel?”
Mulder slid his arm out of the sling, and flexed the elbow ever so slightly. “It’s okay. Better. I can’t sleep worth a damn with this sling on, though.”
“Promise me you’ll leave it on a couple more nights at least? Please? And make an appointment with Dr. Sumner the minute you get home?”
“Yeah, okay.”
“Promise, Mulder.”
“I promise.”
“And don’t forget to move it, do your exercises, loosen it up.”
Mulder had already moved on in his mind, and didn’t reply. He was lightly touching his stitches. “These things are already starting to itch, Scully, and it’s been less than two days. When can I get them removed?”
“A couple more days. I’ll take them out for you if you’d like. But the longer you leave them in, the less of a scar you’ll have.”
“Aren’t scars sexy, Scully?”
+ + + + +
Mulder woke up with a start, only to realize that his elbow was throbbing again. He gingerly felt the joint, and the skin there felt tight. He couldn’t figure it out. Okay, so he’d abandoned the sling for sleeping as soon as he’d returned to D.C., but he’d been wearing it during the day, and been really good about moving it as much as possible, just as the doctor had suggested. He’d been trying his best to move it normally. Except for the wrist-flip; he’d avoided that like the plague--he wasn’t insane. But it was amazing how difficult it was to avoid the movement. But why was it throbbing so much these last two nights? Probably healing pain, he decided.
He got up and went in search of his pain pills. Three more days and he had his appointment with the doctor, and Scully would be back in the morning, anyway.
+ + + + +
“Hey Mulder, how’s it going?”
Mulder looked up from his computer screen to see his partner entering his office. It’s not exactly like he pined for her when she was gone or anything, but he was always glad when she got home.
“Hey Scully. How’d the investigation go?”
“Big surprise. Suspect shot agent, agent shot suspect. Suspect’s wounds fatal, agent’s wounds not life-threatening. He’s already out of the hospital and walking. A monumental waste of time. That Thompson guy is a bit overzealous.”
Mulder nodded his head knowingly. “Tell me about it.”
“How’s your elbow?” Mulder didn’t answer, instead choosing to try and look as if he was intently reading something on his screen. “Mulder?”
“It’s okay, Scully. Dr. Sumner is on sabbatical or something. I have an appointment with his partner on Monday.” He never took his eyes off his terminal.
Scully had approached the desk as he was speaking. “Let me have a look.”
“No, Scully, it’s okay. I’m working it, just like I’m supposed to.”
She could tell he was lying, and walked around behind his desk until she was standing next to his right arm. “Come on, Mulder.”
“It’s _fine_, Scully.” Mulder swung his chair to his left in an effort to move his right arm away from her. But in the process he only managed to bang the extremity into the side of the desk. When his elbow made contact with the hard wood, Mulder’s eyes shot open and his body stiffened with the sudden and intense explosion of pain. He struggled to keep his breathing even, but he knew he wasn’t fooling her.
Scully didn’t say a word, she simply reached under the collar of his shirt and released the buckle on the sling until it was disconnected. “Let me see, Mulder.”
He slowly turned the chair back in her direction, and pulled the sling off his elbow. Then he unbuttoned the cuff of his shirt, his only concession to her, and sat back in his chair. She pushed the fabric up past the elbow. “Oh Mulder, what did you do?”
He looked at her defensively. “I didn’t do anything, Scully. Nothing but what the doctor in Ohio told me to do.” Her disbelief showed in her eyes as she tentatively reached out to touch the joint. “How did it get so swollen, Mulder? It wasn’t swollen before.” The slight pressure she applied with a fingertip was enough to make Mulder visibly wince.
“I don’t know; you’re the doctor,” he said petulantly.
“You can’t wait until Monday, Mulder. You need to see a doctor right away.”
+ + + + +
“Stop pacing Mulder, for God’s sake!”
Mulder turned to complete one more lap of the tiny examination room. “Shut up Scully. I didn’t have to let you come with me, you know.”
Scully was about to reply when the door opened and a man about 50 years old, with a shock of white hair on his head, walked in. He smiled upon realizing he had just walked in on the middle of something. “How do you do. I’m Doctor Basford.”
Mulder had stopped his pacing the minute the door had opened. “Fox Mulder. I’d shake your hand, but. . . .” He motioned to the arm in the sling. “And this is my partner, Dana Scully.” Scully nodded in acknowledgment of the introduction.
The doctor smiled as he flipped through the paperwork he had in his hand. “Type one radial head fracture, huh?”
Mulder nodded. “Uh huh. I gave the x-rays to the receptionist.”
“I’ve seen them. And you’re experiencing increased pain and swelling?”
“It would appear so.”
“Well, then, lets have a look. Take a seat.” Mulder finally took a seat on the examination table, and slipped the sling over his head. “Will your sleeve push up, or do you need to take your shirt off?”
“It pushes up.” Mulder unbuttoned the sleeve again and pushed it up, wincing slightly as his hand and the cloth brushed over his elbow.
His discomfort was not lost on the doctor, who took Mulder’s forearm in his hand, and gently began prodding and moving the joint. “It is swollen isn’t it,” he mumbled. Mulder didn’t answer; his lips were pursed together in a tight line of pain. The doctor released the arm, and Mulder immediately moved it protectively against his chest. “Can you move it at all without pain?”
“Well. . . .” Mulder paused, and caught the steely glare Scully was shooting his way. “Not really. I could, but it’s gotten worse in the last couple of days.”
“You’ve been moving it?”
Mulder turned defensive at the question. “Well, yes. The doctor at the ER told me to.”
“No, no, that’s right. You should keep it moving. You might have overdone it a little, or there’s a chance a bone chip came dislodged and is causing some irritation. Let’s send you down the hall for some new x-rays and see what’s going on in there.” The doctor opened the door and summoned someone. A woman arrived and he spoke to her briefly before turning back to Mulder. “Follow Sally here, and she’ll take you for the pictures.”
Mulder hopped off the table and left. When he was gone Scully took her opportunity to speak to the doctor. “Are you going to have to drain it?”
Dr. Basford looked up from Mulder’s chart. “We’ll see what the x-rays show, but I think we will end up removing some of the fluid, yes.”
+ + + + +
“Well, Mr. Mulder, the x-rays don’t show any fragments or any displacement of the fracture. It looks like the swelling is just a buildup of fluid.”
“So I just wait for it to go down?”
“Well, no. Your pain and swelling is so intense that you can barely move your elbow now. But you have to keep it moving. We need to remove some of the fluid.”
Mulder blanched, and looked over at Scully, who was sitting quietly, unsurprised by what she’d just heard. “How do you do that?”
“With a needle.”
Mulder used his left hand to run his fingers through his hair in a feeble attempt to deflect attention from the horrified look he knew was stuck on his face. “I was afraid you’d say that. It doesn’t sound pleasant.”
“Well, it’s not. But we can do it right now, and afterward, the relief will be instantaneous.”
“Yeah, Okay.” He looked over at Scully again, and she was still sitting placidly, seemingly nonplussed by what was happening to him.
“Did you take any prescription pain medication before you came today?”
“Yeah, I took two Tylenol with codeine.”
“How long ago?”
Mulder looked at his watch. “About an hour ago?”
“Great, then we don’t have to wait. I am going to ask you to take off your shirt. We can do this with you sitting or lying down. You decide, and I’ll be right back.”
The doctor left and Mulder started to try and unbutton his shirt. He wasn’t very successful, and after a moment Scully stood up and silently started to unbutton his shirt for him. Mulder gave up and sighed loudly. “You’re awfully quiet, Scully.”
Scully merely shook her head. “I don’t know what to say, Mulder. You never cease to amaze me.”
That sounded like some sort of accusation to him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s just that . . . I don’t know how . . . Every mole hill becomes a mountain, Mulder.” Her hands were almost at the top button, but Mulder stepped back and out of her reach.
“It’s not like I do this on purpose, Scully.”
Scully’s mouth opened in surprise. “Oh, I know Mulder. That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?”
“I . . . I don’t know. I don’t know what I mean. But this,” she motioned to the room around them. “This drama. It gets to be a bit much. Don’t you find it tiring?”
Mulder snorted in disgust. “Listen, Scully, it’s no picnic on this side of the exam table, either.”
“No, Mulder, that’s not what I mean. This isn’t a personal statement about you specifically. It’s not a value judgment. It’s just an observation, that’s all. We just seem to have this black cloud over our heads all the time. Come here and let me finish with the buttons.”
Mulder smiled ruefully at her, and approached. “I’ve _always_ had it over my head, Scully . . . I think you just stand too close.”
“No, that’s not it I don’t think.” She paused for a moment, thinking. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything, not when you’re in pain like this. It was unfair.” She finished with the buttons and Mulder slid his left arm out of the sleeve, allowing Scully to slide the shirt off his right arm. “You’ll be wanting to lay down for this, Mulder.”
“No, I’ll be okay sitting up.”
“Mulder, it will hurt, and you’re tired and stressed, and you’ve been in constant pain for days now. Don’t fool around.”
Mulder could feel his back rising with her yet again. “I’m not fooling around. There’s nothing funny about this, I know that. But I’m okay. In the grand picture of my various bumps and bruises, this is pretty damn minor. I’ve been through worse, you know.”
Scully backed down immediately. “You’re right. I know.”
Mulder wanted to say more. He wanted to tell her that he resented her acting like his mother so often. But he knew it wasn’t the time or the place. And he knew he didn’t mean it, either. So he mercifully bit his tongue.
+ + + + +
It was like looking at a car wreck. You don’t want to look, you don’t want to know, but you can’t help yourself. Mulder was sitting next to the exam table, with his right arm lying on it, bent at a right angle, draped like he was having surgery. Only his elbow was visible. He really didn’t want to be watching, but it was macabrely fascinating. For her part, Scully was rapt, he could tell by the look on her face. They both watched silently as the doctor swabbed the spot with Betadine.
“Okay, here comes the local. It will sting a little.” He pinched the skin and inserted the needle. A lot was more like it, and Mulder could feel his eyes squinting shut as the pain intensified. But he was powerless to stop them. He just had to ride it out, he knew that.
The doctor removed the needle and sat back, content to just sit there while he waited for the anesthetic to take effect. “So, did you cut your chin at the same time?”
Small talk? This guy wanted to engage in small talk? Mulder nodded.
“Only four stitches,” Scully offered. That’s it, Scully, you do the talking.
“What happened?”
Scully looked at Mulder expectantly. Shit, he had to answer. “Nothing, really. I was chasing a suspect and I fell. Pretty hard, apparently. It’s not a very exciting story. Sorry.”
“That’s okay.” The doctor leaned forward and poked Mulder’s elbow lightly. “Did you feel that?”
“Yeah.”
“Did it hurt?”
“No.”
“Well, then, we can begin. We’ll test the fluid we remove for any signs of infection, but there’s no reason for there to be any with a closed fracture like yours. It’s just routine. Ready?”
Mulder felt himself bite his lower lip as he nodded. The anticipation of the experience had to be worse than the actual event, right?
The doctor picked up a syringe, and it was way too big. How the hell was he gonna get that needle into his elbow? “Keep your arm completely still, okay?”
Mulder nodded as his apprehension grew to uncharted heights. There was something to be said for being unconscious, he realized.
He watched the needle pierce his skin, and could take no more. The doctor maneuvered the needle within his elbow, and Mulder could feel it all. It hurt like hell, but the worst sensation was the twisting and turning machinations of the physician.
Mulder’s left arm was lying casually in front of him on the table, and the agent gave in to his desire to hide. He buried his head in his arm, resting both on the table, with his eyes and teeth clenched tightly shut.
He felt the needle stop, and the doctor spoke. “Are you alright, Mr. Mulder?”
He didn’t lift his head; didn’t even unclench his teeth. “Oh, yeah. Fine. Just finish, will ya?”
After a second Mulder could feel the pressure slowly start to leave his joint. He dared to look by turning his head but leaving it lying on his left arm on the table, and he saw that the doctor was drawing fluid out with the syringe. All that had been in his elbow?
A few minutes later the doctor removed the needle. “There, I think we got most of it.” He removed the drapes over Mulder’s arm. “You okay?”
Mulder sat up straight. “Fine.” He looked around for Scully, and found her standing behind him. She smiled at him warmly.
The doctor rolled his chair around the table until he was sitting next to Mulder. He picked his patient’s arm up off the table, and put the elbow back at his side, keeping a hand on it the whole time. “Can you flex it for me? Slowly.”
Mulder did, and could immediately feel the difference. The stiffness was greatly diminished, and there was very little pain--just an ache rather than the sharp pains he’d experienced before. “This is incredible,” he said with awe.
“Better?”
“Much.” Mulder flexed the joint again.
“Good. Get dressed, including this,” he handed Mulder his sling. “And I’ll be right back to go over what you need to be doing until I see you in another week.”
The doctor left and Mulder put his shirt back on, doing all the buttons himself. He flexed it again, and then again, grinning at his partner the whole time. “It’s a miracle, Scully!”
Scully picked up the sling off the exam table and dropped it over his head. “Don’t get too excited, Mulder. It’s still numbed up from the local. The pain will probably come back somewhat. And you’re going to have to be very careful this time.”
Mulder slipped his arm into the sling. “Kill joy.”
The doctor returned with a prescription. “I know you have the Tylenol, but this is for a stronger painkiller and anti-inflammatory. Even if the pain is bearable, keep taking them. You need to keep the swelling down, okay?” Mulder took the prescription and pocketed it, nodding. “Keep the sling on. All the time except when you are exercising it. I just want you to flex it for a minute or two ten times a day for this week. Don’t pronate your wrist, don’t do any reaching or carrying or grabbing. ” Mulder nodded again. “Hopefully whatever irritation caused the fluid buildup will resolve itself. If you have any questions or problems, just call.”
+ + + + +
Mulder sat at his desk with the bottle of pills sitting on top of the stack of files in the middle of the surface. He was weighing the pros and cons, trying to decide what to do. The doctor had said take them no matter what. That was pretty cut and dry. But he hadn’t told him that they’d make him so nauseous that he felt like he was gonna puke for the middle two hours between every dose. And it was the worst kind of nauseous--stomach churning and heaving, but no relief. Nothing ever came up.
But then, maybe that was because he was rendered unable to eat anything, so there was nothing _to_ bring up. Last night he’d been up all night long, waiting to vomit; waiting for a relief that never came until the drugs had started to wear off--and it had been time to take more pills.
Which was the lesser of the two evils? He was inclined to think that stopping the pills was the lesser. He knew what would happen if he continued; he didn’t know what would happen if he stopped. Maybe the swelling was gone anyway, and wouldn’t return. Maybe he was making himself sick for nothing. But then again, maybe if he stopped taking them his elbow would be the size of a slow-pitch softball by morning. What was it they said? The evil you know is always better than the evil you don’t?
Or was it the devil you know? He couldn’t remember the saying. Didn’t matter; he’d give it one more try. He put the bottle in his right hand and opened it with the left, pouring two pills into his free hand. He popped the pills in his mouth, and swallowed them down with his cup of now-tepid coffee.
He heard the door start to open and quickly dropped the pills into his pocket. This was one molehill he was determined to spare his partner.
“Mornin’ Mulder. How are you doing?”
“Morning Scully.”
“How’s your elbow?”
“It’s okay. Better.”
“Any pain?”
“No. But those pills are strong.”
Scully had shed her coat and put her cup of coffee down before she approached him where he sat behind the desk. He could see her brow furrowing.
“You sure you’re okay? You look pale.”
“I’m not sleeping well. I can’t sleep with this thing on.” He lifted his arm in the sling.
He saw her face relax and she smiled. “Did you try sleeping on an incline like I suggested?"
“Yeah. It helped a little. But not much.”
“Just four more days, Mulder, and maybe you’ll be out of it.”
“Can’t wait.” Four more days of being unable to eat, of nausea? Not likely.
+ + + + +
Dr. Basford was inspecting elbow, and as he did so Mulder looked at Scully, again sitting quietly in a chair in the corner. Letting her come was a decision made in a moment of haste, when he hadn’t been able to quickly concoct a reason to say no. It was a decision he was sure he was about to regret. His elbow hurt like hell again, and it was swollen. Not as bad as it had been a week earlier, but still noticeably swollen. Even he could tell.
“So tell me, when did you stop taking the pills?”
Busted.
Mulder averted his eyes from Scully completely, and tried to come up with something to say, something other than the truth. He came up empty.
“Three days ago. They were making me sick.”
“You should have called. How so?”
“They made me queasy. I couldn’t eat anything.”
The doctor was shaking his head. It was almost imperceptible, but still Mulder caught it. “We could have helped you with that. Did you take them on a full stomach, with food?”
“Sometimes.”
“Were you able to tolerate them better then?”
“No, I don’t think so anyway. Seems like they always made me sick.”
Basford had crossed his arms in front of himself, and he absentmindedly scratched the side of his face. “That’s a shame. Looks like they were probably working?”
Mulder dropped his head until he was looking intently at his lap. “Yeah, I think so.”
“I won’t lecture you, Mr. Mulder; there’s no point in that at this point. I want to repeat your x-rays, and then we’ll decide what to do from there.” He led Mulder out of the room, leaving Scully sitting in there all alone.
+ + + + +
The nurse opened the door to the exam room and motioned Mulder inside. Once he entered she closed him in, and he was alone with his partner. He went straight to the table and sat upon it--an uncharacteristic move for him, an almost penitent one.
“Okay, Scully, say it.”
“Say what, Mulder?”
He dared look at her, and to his surprise she did not look angry. “You know, the usual. ‘What were you thinking, Mulder’; ‘Why didn’t you tell me, Mulder’”
One corner of his partner’s mouth turned up in a slight grin. “Mountains out of molehills” was all she said.
“What?”
“I know why you didn’t tell me. It’s because of what I said in this room a week ago. Mountains out of molehills. You didn’t want me to know that this was getting even more complicated.”
“I didn’t?” It was true, he didn’t. She was absolutely right. But that didn’t mean he wanted her to know that. It wasn’t her fault, after all.
Scully smiled, stood, and approached her partner. “You didn’t. And I appreciate it. But you were having trouble tolerating a prescription. It happens all the time, Mulder. And I probably should have noticed. How swollen is it?” She tenderly took his arm in her hand, and inspected his elbow. “Ouch.” They both heard the doorknob turn, so she gently settled the arm back on her partner’s lap.
“The fracture is healing, Mr. Mulder. There is no bony matter in your joint. Again, I’d have to say it’s just one of those things. Synovial fluid is building up in there.”
Mulder could feel the grimace forming on his face, but seemed unable to quell it. “Do you have to drain it again?”
“Well, there are a couple of options here. The Naproxen was probably working well, but unfortunately it made you ill. We could try a different anti-inflammatory and see what happens, but it could be a couple of weeks before we saw any results, and your elbow has had restricted motion for two weeks already. And Naproxen is the best of the lot, anyway.”
“You said a couple of options.”
Scully had not retaken her seat; she continued to stand next to her partner. “Cortisone,” she said quietly.
Mulder said “huh?” and the doctor said “that’s right” simultaneously, so that the result was an indecipherable jumble of noise. The doctor turned his attention to Mulder.
“Cortisone. Steroids, also an anti-inflammatory. It works incredibly well.”
“Well then let’s do that.”
“Well, there are drawbacks.”
Mulder just looked at the doctor, sure he would continue.
“We’re talking about injecting the drug directly into your joint.” Mulder blanched. “It isn’t comfortable. But on top of that, there are potential side effects. They are not as likely because of the local rather than systemic use of the drug, and because we’ll hopefully only have to do this once. But you may suffer from increased blood sugar, bone thinning in the area, bruising, it could affect your adrenal gland. The steroid will depress your immune system somewhat for a time. You’re not currently sick, are you?”
Mulder shook his head. “No. What kind of time frame are we looking at with the shot?”
“Well, that is the great advantage. The effects of the shot last for quite some time, hopefully long enough for your fracture to heal completely without further aggravation. It should put you on the fast track to recovery.”
“I can’t stand spending any more time in this damn sling. Give me the shot.”
The doctor smiled. “I agree. Given your history and your profession, I think it is the best option at this point. What I’ll do is another arthrocentesis” He saw Mulder’s annoyance at the technical term. “I’ll withdraw fluid again. And at the same time I’ll introduce the cortisone.” Mulder just nodded. “Same routine as last time, but you didn’t take anything orally before coming this time?” Mulder shook his head. “Well, then, I want you to take some T3s and we’ll wait half an hour for them to take effect before we start. Is that okay?”
Mulder shrugged. “Yeah, okay.”
As the doctor left Mulder looked at his partner.
“Another mountain, Scully, huh?”
+ + + + +
“Do you feel any difference, Mulder? Are the pills taking effect?”
“I don’t know, Scully. I can’t tell. How much longer?”
“Half hour’s almost up. I’m sure the doctor will be back soon.”
Mulder pulled the wheeled stool out from under the desk in the room, and set it in the same spot it had been when he sat in it the week before.
“You’re not going to do this sitting up again, are you?”
Mulder sat down on the stool, looked at her, and nodded. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“I think it is going to hurt more, Mulder. I understand that steroid shots are very painful.”
“Thanks for sharing. But what difference does that make? It’ll hurt sitting, it’ll hurt lying down.”
“You don’t want to move, Mulder. And the doctor won’t want you to move, either. You’re less likely to if you are lying down.”
Mulder considered her words for a moment, and reached his decision. “I’m sitting.”
+ + + + +
“Feel that?”
Mulder felt the pressure on his skin, but he felt no pain. He was getting used to this. The local had taken effect. “Pressure. No pain.”
“Ready? Here we go. I’ll draw some fluid out first, then introduce the cortisone.”
Mulder nodded and clenched his jaw in anticipation of what was to come. The doctor began.
It hurt more. Fuck, it hurt more! Why was that? He had three prescription Tylenols in him along with the local. Why did it hurt more than the first time? Mulder wanted to pound his fist into the bed and swear a blue streak, but what Scully had said about moving was still fresh in his mind. Instead he dropped is head, face-down, to the table, and wrapped his left arm over the top of it. He only wished the table would swallow him up, but that wasn’t going to happen. Instead he settled for quietly mumbling every four-letter word in his repertoire.
“Let it out, Mr. Mulder. I know this is uncomfortable. You can swear louder if you want to. And let me know if you feel faint or dizzy. We can stop if you need to, okay?”
Mulder picked his head up to look at the physician, and it had to have been the power of suggestion, but his head did go fuzzy for a moment, and he thought he might just oblige and pass out. But it quickly cleared and Mulder was actually disappointed that it did. “No, I’m okay.” He turned his head away quickly. He did not want to see what was coming out of and going in to his elbow.
“Okay, I’ve got the fluid out. Here comes the cortisone. I want to be sure to get it in the right areas of your elbow, so I’ll be going slowly.”
It was like having fire injected into the joint. This was supposed to _help_? Each passing second only doubled the discomfort until finally Mulder could no longer stand it, and he cried out. He wanted to grab his arm back and run. He couldn’t remember ever wanting anything more.
“Don’t move. I’m almost done.” Obviously the doctor was a mind reader.
After the longest ten seconds in Mulder’s life, the doctor slowly withdrew the needle. He swabbed the small injection site, applied a Band-Aid, and declared himself done.
“Once the local wears off your elbow will be very sore for a while--several days. There’s nothing to be done about it, really. You still have the Tylenol with codeine at home?” Mulder nodded. “How many?”
“Ummm, probably a dozen.”
“Okay, I’ll write you a scrip for some more in case you need them. Now I want you to contact me immediately if you feel sick at all. I’m talking abdominal pain, nausea, vomiting, severe headache, inflammation of any other joints. You may be very thirsty in the next few hours; that will be from the steroids. Okay?”
Mulder nodded, and looked over to Scully to make sure she was getting all this. Of course she was.
“Go back to your original range-of-motion exercises that you were given right after the fracture. We can’t afford to leave your elbow virtually immobilized any longer. Hopefully the cortisone will allow you to get it moving again. We’ll see you back here in another week. Any questions?”
Mulder shook his head and looked to his partner. She didn’t have any, either.
+ + + + +
“Mulder, GO HOME.”
“No, Scully, I’m okay.” He was speaking through clenched teeth.
“The doctor told you it was going to be painful today. Why sit there at your desk in pain? You can’t be comfortable, and you can’t be getting anything done.”
Like a fool he’d insisted on going back to work right after the appointment, while his elbow was still numb and he was feeling fine. That had lasted about an hour, and agony had begun to set in. Now it had taken root and was flourishing.
“I’ll be okay.” It almost came out as a hiss, his jaw was so tight. It wasn’t an only-when-it-moves pain. It was an all-the-time, constant pain. And then there was the burning. The fire that the doctor had injected in there was obviously still burning bright. Mulder reached over to rub his elbow, and was relieved to learn that touching the joint did not add to the hurt. That was good, anyway.
“Just go home. What are you trying to prove? And to whom? I’m impressed, Mulder. Now let’s go. I’ll drive you.” She walked to the coat rack and put on her coat, then took his and held it open for him.
She was obviously in no mood to negotiate, so Mulder got up and slipped his left arm in the coat.
+ + + + +
Mulder turned over in bed to look at the clock. 7:15am. He had a little time. He slid the sling off his neck and tested his elbow. No pain, no stiffness when he flexed it. He moved his wrist, which had been excruciating just days earlier, and now it was almost fine. He tried the dreaded wrist-flip, and that still sent a shot of pain down the length of his arm. But that was it. There was no doubt in his mind that it was getting better, only four days after the shot.
+ + + + +
“Hey Mulder, how’d it go?” He hadn’t invited Scully along on this follow-up appointment, and she hadn’t made a fuss.
Mulder casually slid each of his arms out of first his overcoat and then his jacket. He knew Scully was watching his face for signs of pain, just as she’d been doing every day for the two weeks since he’d been freed from the sling. He also knew she wasn’t seeing anything; he hadn’t felt pain with normal movement in a week. He wandered behind his desk and flopped down in his chair. Then he waved at her vigorously with his right arm.
“This mountain is officially back to a molehill, Scully.”
<<The End>>