Part 2 Mulder's Apartment 3:15 A.M. "Goddamnit, Scully. Wake up." Whatever books he had read, whatever he had been taught about waking people in deep sleep, he threw all the knowledge out the window when he awoke to her choking sounds. She was completely unresponsive to the nudges, the touches, the pleas to wake up. It was scaring the hell out of him. As he took her body into his arms he felt her. Hot. So very, very hot. Her skin was red and she wouldn't wake up. He lay her back down and took a firm hold of her shoulders and started to shake her. Roughly. Screaming at her to wake up. After a few seconds she let out an unearthly cry and her eyes opened. She was gasping for breath and he tried to lay her back but she clutched his shoulders and wouldn't let go. "It was a dream," she said in a strained voice, trying to reassure herself. "Just a dream. Just a dream." Her eyes were wild and unfocused. "Scully. I'm calling an ambulance." "No. No, it was a dream. Give me a minute. I'll be fine." He held her as she gasped in huge amounts of air. Her breathing steadied and her heart rate slowed. As he held her, he could feel her fever dissipate. Quickly. Abnormally. He held her away from him, still gripping her arms. "What the fuck was that?" "It's--a dream. I had a nightmare. I guess." "Scully--this was beyond a nightmare. I couldn't wake you. You were burning up." She put a hand to her own forehead. "I'm--everything feels all right now. I'm fine, Mulder. I just had a really bizarre reaction to the dream. Sleep paralysis, probably." He looked at her with doubt in his eye. He knew that sleep paralysis had probably been part of the reaction but it wasn't everything. He had never seen anything like it. "Tell me about the dream." "I--I'm not sure I can. It was not like. . .well, a story in your mind, no matter how disjointed. It wasn't that at all. It was this feeling of being pulled down. Like a vacuum being turned on and me being sucked into it. That was the exact type of feeling. And then--this strange sound. Hollow. And everything just turned red. There were flames everywhere and they were burning me, but my body remained intact. I was on fire but not actually being damaged. I couldn't move and I couldn't feel myself scream." She closed her eyes tightly at the memory. Mulder pulled her close. "I want to take you to the hospital." "No. Mulder. They will laugh us out of there. There is nothing wrong with me. I'm certain of it. I had a nightmare. Night terror. Whatever you want to call it. It--could be a reaction to spending the entire night in your bed. Or--that oil you used that was warming my skin. Or--that idiotic crank call and the hell remark. You know how the subconscious loves to take hold of these things and run with them." "The oil didn't give you a fever that was burning through my skin when I held you." "Mulder. You were frightened. Maybe you misjudged. . ." He cut her off. "Please don't tell me how off my judgment is. You want to rationalize things, fine. I know what I felt. I would have taken a thermometer and got you the empirical proof but, unfortunately, I had my hands full." "Don't be mad at me, Mulder. Whatever happened--it's over and there is no reason to go to the hospital or to a doctor. It was just some bizarre reaction, all right?" He closed his eyes and let out a huff of air. "I'm not mad at you, Scully. You just scared the shit out of me." "Can we--not go to sleep, Mulder? Just have some coffee and watch tv or something? I don't want to go back to sleep tonight." He stared at her a long while. She did look fine. Rattled, but fine. He nodded slowly and handed her the remote control. As he got up to put on the coffee, he heard her channel surfing. By the time he came back with the coffee mugs, Scully was curled on her side, sleeping peacefully. 8:30 AM Oh, he was in for it, all right. He knew that much. She wasn't awake yet but when she woke up, she'd kill him. So be it. He wasn't giving her an inch on this one. She appeared in the doorway of his kitchen, wearing the shirt he wore to work the day before. He could swear that woman was psychic. "It's 8:30, Mulder. You aren't running around like a maniac." She seemed pretty calm. He walked over and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Sleep well?" "Yes. I did. Thank you." "Good. You missed your coffee break but you'll be happy to know that I didn't keep the coffee on 'warm' all this time. I made a fresh pot." "Mulder. What did you do? Why aren't we at work?" "I called in and told them we were going to be running some background checks on the Wilson case. Which I will do later. You are going to do nothing. " "Really?" "Don't get your hackles up, Scully. I didn't take you to the hospital last night and I really should have. You would have done it with me." "Maybe. But I'm fine today. Really." She sat by the kitchen table. She really was remarkably calm considering he had done what she hated more than anything else. She didn't like someone taking control of her life. Not any phase of it. He poured coffee and placed it before her. He knelt in front of her and swiped the hair away from her face. "You look fine," he smiled. She closed her eyes. "I'm not going to kill you, Mulder. And--do you know why?" "Because I'm so darned cute?" She smiled a bit. "That, too. But the main reason is--I really was scared. I still am when I think about it. I don't think I've ever had such a vivid dream. I still feel--unsettled. I'm surprised I slept so well afterwards." "So am I." She looked at him and saw the deep bluish tinge under his eyes. "You watched me like a hawk last night, didnt you?" He nodded. She leaned into him and let him put his arms around her softly. "What can I say, Scully? I'm a fool for love? I could say it but that's not even the half of it," he breathed into her ear. She leaned out of his embrace and ruffled his hair a bit. "I want to go to my apartment for my 'sick day.' But after you run down the Wilson leads--I'd like you to come over. Bring some clothes, maybe. . ." He smiled. Slow changes. Step by step. In the right direction. Scully's Apartment 3 P.M. Scully opened the door and her mother damned near burst through. That was the best and really only way to describe it. After Scully returned her call and informed her of her uncharacteristic day off, Maggie had announced that she would be over as soon as possible and hung up. Her mother usually left her with the option of refusal but Scully just resigned herself to the fact that the moon or stars must be in fairly strange alignment since normally polite and highly respectful people were determined to aggressively take control of her. And the strangest part was, she had no desire to stop them. Maggie's cheeks were flushed and there was a definite glow of excitement about her as she sat on the couch, leaning forward in anticipation. "I have an X-file for you," she announced. Scully sat on her chair with her mouth slightly open."What?" she finally managed to squeeze out. "An X-file. I'm not kidding, Dana. And you're involved-- well, not really but yes. You are. In a way. Sort of." "Mom. . . " "Okay, okay. I'm just a little excited. It's sort of awful but I bet you can fix it." "Mom. . ." Maggie took a deep breath. "All right, Dana. Let me begin at the beginning." "Good place to start, Mom." Maggie placed her hands, palms down, flat on her lap. It seemed to mentally ground her. "One year ago--a little over--Victoria Johnson went into a coma." "Victoria Johnson?" "You remember her? She was in high school with you. Very serious. She wanted to be--I don't know--something in computers way before computers even became popular. Remember?" "Yes. Yes, I do. But it's not such an uncommon name. I just wanted to make sure you and I were talking about the same person. So--why did she go into a coma? Was she in an accident of some kind? How long did the coma last?" "She wasn't in an accident. There was" her mother stopped, a bit ashamed of her former exuberance, "she-- was an alcoholic, Dana. No one knew. They initially thought she went into a coma due to liver failure." "Oh, my God. Victoria?" Visions of the young girl she once knew played through Scully's mind. Long dark hair scooped up unceremoniously in a rubber band. Tendrils always breaking free. Green eyes covered by wide gold rimmed glasses that dwarfed her tiny features. Serious, but with a wicked sense of humor. About everything. Especially herself. "It's a disease, Dana," her mother said softly, her own visions of a beloved uncle playing through her mind. Scully bit back the retort that she would have given anyone else. She knew full well it was a disease. That was part of the reason behind her reaction. "I know, Mom. I just. It's horrible, that's all. So what makes them think it wasn't an alcohol induced coma?" "Well, the fact that within two weeks her extremely swollen liver shrunk to its normal size and all scar tissue seen in the scans they gave her were completely healed. And she was still in the coma." "There must be some mistake." "Nope. No mistake." "Well, Mom. If all the tests were accurate, I guess medical science can't explain everything." "No, it can't. And, this is where the strange part comes in. This was about thirteen months ago. Victoria's coma. Five months later, it happened again. Elaine Chandler. Remember her? No accident, no alcohol. No anything. Perfectly healthy woman. Coma. And just a week ago, Crystal Wahlberg. Same thing. No reason whatsoever and she is in a coma, too." "They were all in my class. Actually, we were all in science club together." "That's why I came to you. I just found out about this now. I met Victoria's aunt. She just received a call from her sister who is taking Victoria home tomorrow. She's out of the coma, Dana." "Well, that's wonderful." "Yes, it is." "What aren't you telling me, Mom?" Maggie's eyes had that light in them again. The same freaking light that Mulder's had whenever a case deeply intrigued him. She almost closed her eyes in frustration. Now there were two of them in her life. God help her. "Guess where Victoria said she has been all this time?" "Where she's been? She's been in a coma." "She says she's been," Maggie paused dramatically, "in purgatory." End of part 2
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