Rivendell household rule #2: If you can't laugh at yourself, someone else is
going to do it for you, and you're not going to enjoy it nearly as much. -
Unknown
TITLE: FEVER (1/1)
RATING: PG
KEYWORDS: MSR
CATEGORY: SRA
SPOILERS: NONE
ARCHIVING: Anywhere with name attached
SUMMARY: Mulder's not acting like himself...or rather, too much like
himself.
FEEDBACK: If domesticated and friendly will be given a kind home and fed
regularly at kitsunagarix@yahoo.com No feral feedback please!
DISCLAIMER: I'd love to say that Mulder was mine...but alas! I shall have to
confess that he and Scully are the property of Chris Carter, 1013, 20C Fox etc
etc yadda yadda yadda.
FEVER
- By Kitsunagari
Scully put the finishing touches on her report. She and Mulder were in a small
town investigating the murder of a middle-aged woman, Sarah Armstrong, by her
husband, Martin. Martin had claimed that he had had no control over his
actions, and Mulder and Scully had been notified of the case through the man's
claims that he may have been 'possessed'. However, after exhaustive interviews
with the suspect and various people of his acquantaince, Mulder had finally
dismissed the case as having none of the earmarks of a possession case; however,
the motive behind the murder of the man's wife of
25 years still eluded them - by all accounts Martin was, to use a cliched term,
mild-mannered and unassuming. Still, as Mulder had ironically remarked, "It's
always the quiet ones."
Having finished her report, Scully packed up her laptop and carried it and her
suitcase outside and put them in the trunk of the rental car, and then proceeded
to wait for Mulder. After several minutes, she lost her patience and knocked on
Mulder's motel room door.
No reply.
She knocked again. "Mulder?" This time the door swung open, greeting Scully
with the sight of Mulder still clad only in his pyjama bottoms, blinking
bleary-eyed at her.
"Scully?" He squinted at her. "What time is it?"
"Mulder, it's 9am. We're supposed to be gone by now. Did you sleep through
your alarm?"
Mulder blinked a bit more. "Alarm?"
"Mulder, are you feeling okay? You seem a little out of it."
Mulder ran his hand down his stubbled face. "To tell you the truth
Scully, I'm feeling a little disoriented...and it feels like someone's on the
inside of my skull trying to beat their way out with a pick axe."
"You're running a low fever, Mulder," Scully told him in concern, gently
pressing her hand against his forehead and cheek. "Look, get dressed, and I'll
pack up for you."
*******************************************************************
Scully collapsed on to her bed. It had been a long tiring drive; Mulder had
not been in any condition to relieve Scully as driver. He had spent the entire
journey in a deep sleep - so deep that Scully had trouble waking him up when she
got to his apartment. He'd still seemed a little out of it, in fact Scully had
to help support him when he walked, but had turned down her offer to stay - he
hadn't wanted her to catch whatever it was he had, and had insisted that she
leave. Reluctantly, she had.
The phone rang. Sighing, Scully dragged herself off her bed and picked it up.
"Scully." she answered.
Silence.
"Hello?" Scully's annoyance seeped through to her tone.
In a hoarse whisper, she heard "Scully..._they're here_,"
"Mulder? Who's there Mulder?"
"Their eyes! I can feel their eyes..._I can *hear* them listening!_" Mulder
whispered frantically into the phone.
"Mulder, listen to me, stay where you are. I'll be right there."
Silence.
"Mulder? Mulder, are you there? Stay where you are."
"Hurry, Scully."
******************************************************************
Scully knocked on Mulder's door. No reply. She tried again, louder.
"Mulder?" Still no reply. The hair on her neck began to prickle...and she
removed her weapon from its holster, and then unlocked and opened Mulder's door.
Quickly swinging herself in, weapon first, she encountered gloom.
Mulder had all the blinds in his apartment shut, and the only light came from
between the few missing slats. She relaxed her outstretched arms, bringing the
gun closer into her torso, but still keeping it at the ready.
"Mulder? Mulder, where are you?"
In the silence she thought she could hear a muffled sob.
Scully found a lamp in the darkness, and switched it on. Mulder sat on the
floor, hugging his knees, on which his head rested.
Another muffled sob escaped into the darkness. Putting her weapon away,
Scully knelt in front of Mulder, and pressed the back of her hand to his
forehead - Mulder's temperature was now very high, dangerously high.
At the touch of her hand against his forehead, Mulder's head whipped up.
"It's my fault, Scully."
"Mulder, we have to get you to a hospital. You're running a very high
temperature..."
Mulder seemed not to hear her, and looked away, tears streaming down his face.
"It's my fault, Scully. I should have stopped them. But I couldn't. And they
took her. I tried so hard to stop them, but I couldn't." Another sob. Mulder
was obviously reliving his sister's abduction again.
Scully put her hand out and pulled Mulder's chin around until he faced her.
"Mulder, it's me, Scully. You're going to have to go to the hospital."
Mulder's eyes seemed to focus on her. "Scully?" She nodded. His face
crumpled, and more tears escaped. "Scully. They took you too. I tried to stop
them taking you too, and I couldn't. Your cancer, your sister's death, Emily's
death...all my fault. I should have stopped them...but I couldn't." Another
sob. "I'm sorry, Scully." he whispered hoarsely.
Scully wiped away the tears filling her own eyes at Mulder's pain and the
memories he was bringing to the surface and put her arms around him. He threw
his arms around her and held onto her as if his life depended on it.
Whatever this illness was was giving Mulder one hell of a guilt trip.
There was obviously no getting through to him in this condition. She cleared
her throat. "Mulder, I'm going to call an ambulance, okay?" No response.
Scully gently pulled away and patted her jacket for her cellphone, and
immediately had a vision of her phone resting in its charger, where she had put
it when she had come home, and from where she had failed to retrieve it when she
left her apartment in the hurry to get to Mulder.
"Damn it," she muttered under her breath. Standing up, she crossed to
Mulder's phone. She put the receiver to her ear and reached down to start
dialing, and realised it was dead. Picking up the cord connecting the phone to
the phoneline, she saw the reason why...the line had been cut. And, by the
looks of his apartment, Scully would have more luck finding gold at the end of a
rainbow than finding Mulder's cell-phone. Sighing, she knelt beside Mulder
again.
"Mulder? Did you cut the phone line?" He nodded. "Why?"
Suddenly he grabbed her and pulled her down so that her ear was right next to
his mouth. "Because _they're listening!_" he hissed. Just as suddenly he
released her and sprang to his feet, Scully making a hard landing on the floor
in consequence. Spying the door that Scully hadn't closed on her cautious
entry, he pulled it so that only a crack remained, through which he peered,
looking left and right. "They think that I don't know that they're there. But
_I know_." He quickly shut the door and locked, chained and
bolted it.
Despite being aware of its inherent futility at this point, Scully tried to
reason with him. "Mulder, you and I both have our apartments swept for bugs
regularly. It's been more than a year since any were found."
Unsurprisingly, Mulder seemed not to hear her. "I'm ready for them this
time," he said, pulling out his gun.
Scully became quickly alarmed. Mulder was not exactly in a condition to be
bearing arms. She stood, licking her lips, trying to think of the best way to
approach this situation.
"Mulder, if you shoot them, that's just what they want."
"It's just what they deserve! You _know_ that, Scully!" Mulder almost
shouted, actually seeming to hear her this time, perhaps because she was playing
along.
Scully took her eyes off Mulder's gun to look into his eyes. "I know that
Mulder. But for you to spend the rest of your life in prison for it...it's not
worth it Mulder."
Mulder's eyes raced from side to side, as he thought about what she was
saying. Scully stepped closer to him, hand outstretched. "Give me the gun,
Mulder." He tightened his grip on the gun, unsure. Scully took another couple
of steps closer to him. "Mulder, it's me, Scully. You trust me, right?"
Dumbly, Mulder nodded, not releasing his grip on the gun. Scully stepped even
closer, until they were not even a foot apart. "Then give me the gun."
Scully's every muscle was tense. When Mulder still didn't move, "Mulder, more
than anyone else I want them to pay for what they've done." She paused as tears
again sprang to her eyes, and she continued more quietly. "But not like this.
Give me the gun." A
couple of heartbeats passed, then Mulder handed her his gun.
Scully sighed and almost sagged in relief. She tucked the gun into the front
waistband of her trousers, intending to empty it of ammunition as soon as she
got the chance. Mulder allowed her to lead him over to his couch, where she sat
beside him. Whatever this illness was, it seemed to be bringing out different
aspects of Mulder's personality to an extreme extent...guilt, paranoia...she had
to get him to a hospital.
"Mulder, listen to me. I'm just going next door to use their phone. I won't
take long, but I need you to promise that you will stay right here."
Scully began to rise off the couch but Mulder's hand grabbed her arm and
pulled her down next to him. "I'm sorry, Scully. You were right. I'm just so
tired of it." Scully nodded and attempted to rise again, but his hand kept her
where she was. Mulder's voice rose. "I'm so sick of the lies...of the
deceptions...I just want my sister!"
Mulder had his hands on Scully's upper arms now and shook her at the end of
every sentence as if to emphasize his point. "I've spent ten years of my life
being called Spooky Mulder and toiling in the basement...I've lost my father,
I've watched Scully lose her
sister..."
Scully, already more than a little alarmed at being so roughly handled by
Mulder, was even more disconcerted when he referred to her in the third person -
it made her realise her danger as he obviously was unaware that it was she who
he was shaking. Meanwhile, Mulder carried on regardless. "...watch her
daughter die, and get cancer...I JUST WANT MY SISTER BACK DAMN IT!"
With that, Mulder slammed Scully down on the couch, still holding on to her
upper arms in a bruising fashion. Both of them were breathing hard, Mulder from
anger, Scully from fear. She knew Mulder would never hurt her in a rational
state of mind, but now he did not seem to be aware of who she was...
After a couple of heartbeats, Mulder's eyes seemed to focus on Scully, as
opposed to the glazed look that had accompanied his previous rants.
"Scully?" he asked in a low voice.
"Mulder? You're hurting me." An unbidden tear slid down Scully's cheek.
Mulder looked at his hands and where they were as if surprised to see them.
"I'm sorry, Scully." he relaxed his grip, but as most of his six-foot frame was
sprawled on top of her by this stage, she was not in much of a position to move.
Mulder's eyes roamed over every part of her face, and then his head dipped to
under her chin, where she could feel the graze of his unshaven chin and the heat
radiating from his overwarm skin on the delicate flesh of her throat. At first
she was unsure of what he was doing, but then she could hear his intakes of
breath...he was smelling her.
"Mulder..." she said softly
"Mmm, it's definitely Scully alright..." he said quietly, his warm breath
tickling her throat. "I would know that scent anywhere."
"Mulder...what are you doing?" Scully asked, her tones hushed, and not
carrying much conviction.
"Sssh, Scully." She could feel his lips graze her neck as he shushed her.
"I know it's very unprofessional, Scully, but sometimes, I can't help but
wonder what it would feel like, if I were to kiss you...just here..."
Mulder's warm lips pressed softly on her throat. "...or here...here
maybe...and there's always here..." Mulder proceeded to kiss a haphazard line
down her throat, stopping just where her blouse ended in a V above the top
button.
Scully was still breathing hard, but now for an entirely different reason.
She could feel the imprint of his kisses burning as if Mulder's lips rested
there still. A part of her was demanding that she do something to get out of
this situation, and get Mulder to a hospital...but that part was receding
rapidly in the wake of the feeling of inevitability.
Mulder's weight shifted slightly, and she saw his eyes widen slightly.
"What...?" his left hand ran down her side and along the waistband of her
trousers. A patch of skin was exposed by Scully's prone position, and Scully
felt the too-warm warmth of Mulder's hand graze gently along it and then stop at
his gun which was still tucked into the waistband of her pants.
Very gently, and very slowly, he dragged it out along the sensitive flesh of
her belly, the coolness of the metal leaving goosebumps in its wake, and placed
it on the coffee table. He then ran his hand around her exposed skin and began
to insinuate his fingers under her back. Almost involuntarily, Scully arched
her back slightly, and Mulder pulled her weapon out of its holster and placed
that on the coffee table also. He then gently raised her blouse up so that a
larger band of flesh was exposed, and began another pattern of searing kisses.
Scully's sense of practicality made another desperate attempt to reassert
itself. "Mulder..." she croaked, and then cleared her throat. "Mulder...you're
sick, you need..."
Mulder moved his attention back to her throat, and Scully was stopped short as
she bit back a moan as Mulder ran his hand gently over her breast.
Mulder lifted his head and looked into Scully's eyes, brushing an errant
strand of hair off her cheek. His eyes glowed with a dark intensity beyond that
caused by the fever he was running, and slowly, ever so slowly, lowered his head
until his lips met hers. They kissed lingeringly, but gently, Mulder's tongue
gliding in langurous exploration.
Finally, Mulder pulled back slightly and searching her expression as if to
look for a rejection. As Scully watched his expression also, she was shocked to
see his face crumple as he again began to cry. Without another word, he sat up.
Scully, feeling more than a little lightheaded, did the same.
"Mulder? What's the matter?"
"The bee, Scully. They took you, like before...and I didn't know where you
were..."
"But you found me, Mulder. And when I had my cancer, you found a cure..."
"But they only took you...to hurt me. They know...they know that I can't live
without you..." He sprang to his feet. "It's my fault..." he made a grab for
her gun, but Scully had preempted that move and had closed her hand around it
before he had and knocked his off the coffee table and under the couch, but he
now tried to wrestle it from her. "It's the only way Scully...if I die, they
won't need to hurt you any more..."
Scully was rapidly losing the fight with Mulder - he just about had
wrested it away from her - when his eyes rolled back into his head, and he fell
to the floor unconscious. Scully quickly knelt and felt his pulse and then
wrestled with the many locks on Mulder's door, flung it open, and ran to the
first door.
BAM! BAM! BAM! "I'm Special Agent Dana Scully with the Federal Bureau of
Investigation. I need to use your phone, sir."
*******************************************************************
Scully straightened up from looking through the microscope lens. "And you say
that this was also found in Martin Armstrong's blood?" she asked the
white-coated Dr Williamson.
"Mmm-hmm. I can't say I've ever seen anything like it...a virus that makes
it's host act on the extremities of their personalities. The worst part for the
victim is that they are in some part aware of what they are doing...yet have no
control. They even remember what
they have done. You know several of the police officers in the precinct where
Martin Armstrong was being held also came down with it. You were lucky not to
be infected." Scully nodded her agreement and he continued. "I notified the
CDC of course...but the virus seems to have disappeared from sight."
"But Agent Mulder has fully recovered?"
"Oh, yes. The fever's gone, and he is no longer contagious."
"Thank you for your help, Dr Williamson."
*********************************************************************
Scully knocked on Mulder's hospital room door.
"Yeah?"
Scully opened the door, and saw Mulder lying in his bed, looking out of the
window. He did not look over as she came in. She pulled a chair close to the
bed on the same side of the bed as the window.
Mulder finally looked at her. "Scully, I can't begin to..."
"Mulder...you don't have anything to apologise for." She risked a quick look
into his eyes, and saw slight surprise. She sighed, and continued.
"For nearly seven years now Mulder, while we have been so avidly seeking the
Truth in every god-forsaken small town in the country, there has been a certain
truth somewhat...closer to home...that we have both avoided facing." She looked
him straight in the eye. "What happened...only brought that truth into the
foreground." She took hold of Mulder's hand and smiled as he squeezed it.
"That still doesn't excuse..."
Scully cleared her throat in semi-embarrassment. "Mulder - I had my weapon,
you were weakened by illness - there is no way what happened could have
happened, without my letting it."
They both sat in silence for a couple of minutes, contemplating this momentous
shift in their relationship dynamic. A nurse opened the door to Mulder's room.
"I'm afraid visting hours are over, Agent Scully."
Scully nodded, and the nurse closed the door again. Scully stood, keeping
Mulder's hand in hers. "I'll come and see you again tomorrow." she said,
looking up from their clasped hands to meet Mulder's eyes.
"Well, you know where I'll be," he said, smiling that wise-ass smile of his.
Their hands remained clasped an instant or so more, and then Scully let her
hand drop and she crossed quickly to the door. As she was just about to put her
hand on the doorknob, she turned. "Oh, what the hell," she said and crossing
quickly to Mulder's
bedside, took his head in her small hands, and kissed him.
THE END
(
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