Angel by My Side

Part 4

Author: Sally Bahnsen    rbahnsen@optusnet.com.au

Disclaimer and headers in part one.
*******************************

Wednesday

2:19PM



To say the going was tough would be like saying the Kokoda
trail was a stroll in the park. All my effort was focused
on both staying vertical and moving forward. I could just
make out Jake's wheezing gasps over my own harsh breathing.
The fire in my left hand was slowly creeping towards my
elbow and my right leg was practically useless.

With each clumsy step we made, my paranoia climbed a
little higher.  What if Scully hadn't escaped? What if the
soldiers were just behind us, toying with us like a cat
pursuing a mouse?  Jake kept glancing over his shoulder and
every time he did, it upset my already precarious balance.  

I was beginning to wonder if we were even heading in the
right direction, when suddenly I saw her.

Oh God!  Was I too late?

She was about 30 yards ahead, slumped against a tree, head
tilted to the side and her hair splayed across her face.
"Scully!"  I pulled my arm free of Jake's shoulders and
almost fell in my haste to get to her. "Scully!"

I hopped to the nearest tree, hung on, took a couple of
breaths, and went to take off again, only to be yanked back
by my right arm.

"Ah! Shit."

"What the fuck are you doing, man?" Jake's face was a
couple of inches from my ear. "What if they're here? They
might be watching."

"Let go of me!"  I tugged at my arm, trying to break free.
"Scully!" She wasn't moving. I couldn't tell if she was
dead or alive. "Scully!"

She started to stir, slowly turning her head towards us.

I pulled loose, hopping and stumbling through the
undergrowth, ignoring the searing pain in my ankle. I
sensed Jake right behind me.

Just a few more yards . . .

Scully opened her eyes, frowned and muttered softly,
"Mulder?" Then her eyes grew wide and she yelled, "Mulder!
No! Go back! Get out of here."

Jake caught up with me just as a soldier stepped out from
behind a tree, his gun aimed directly at my head. "That
will be far enough, Agent Mulder."

I could see Scully clearly now. There was a thin trickle
of blood coming from just above her hairline. Her hands
were behind her back and I wondered if they were bound.

I looked from Scully to the man with the gun. His eyes
were cold steel as he kept his weapon trained on me. Jake
was beside me, chest heaving and fear blazing in his eyes.

"You two," the gunman indicated to Jake and me with the
end of his rifle, "get over there with the little lady."

With Jake's help, I hobbled the short distance to where
Scully was sitting against the tree.

"You," the soldier addressed Jake. "Down on the ground,
belly first, hands behind your head."  Jake did as he was
told and lay on his stomach next to Scully.

Then the man with the gun turned to me. "Up against the
tree, hands behind your head."  I staggered on one leg to
the huge pine, leaned with my chest against the trunk and
waited. With the gun still aimed at me, the soldier leaned
forward, stripped the backpack from my shoulders and
dropped it at his feet. His hands were thorough when he
searched my jacket and waist for a weapon. "Spread 'em." He
kicked at my left leg and I almost fell. Without the
ability to put my right foot to the ground there was no way
I could spread my legs any wider.

 "I said spread 'em!" And he swung his foot at my right
leg. Pain exploded through my ankle and I dropped like a
sack of wheat. For a few minutes I existed in a one-
dimensional plane of pure agony, clutching my leg and
rolling on the ground.

Awareness returned with a swift jab to my ribs, and the
end of the rifle pressing against my right kidney. "Sit
up."  I could barely breathe, let alone sit. The pressure
against my side increased. "I won't say it again, Agent
Mulder."

It was only my fear of what he'd do to Scully that drove
me to attempt to move. I rolled onto my left side, pausing
to catch my breath, then pushed up and twisted so I was
sitting with my back against the tree trunk. I looked down
the barrel pointing at my face, and ran my tongue over my
lips. Keeping my eyes fixed on the man with the gun, I
spoke to my partner.

"Scully . . .  are you . . . okay?  Are you . . . hurt?"

"I'm fine, I'm all right."

"You sure?"  I risked a glance in her direction and saw
her nod just before the butt of the rifle connected with my
jaw. My head slammed against the tree.  A small galaxy
erupted across my vision and my chin dropped to my chest.

"Stop it!"  I heard Scully shout, "Leave him alone."

Through bleary eyes, I saw the rifle shift from me to
Scully.  I grunted and dropped down on my left side trying
to draw his attention back to me.

It worked.

A little too well.

A military-issue black leather boot connected solidly with
my ribs. "Get up!"

Yeah, easier said than done, you stupid son of a bitch!
But again, my concern for what he'd do to Scully forced me
to comply with his orders. Using my good hand as leverage,
I pushed myself back against the tree.

The silencer was immediately pressed up hard against my
temple.

"Shut up! And sit still."  He shoved the gun harder at my
head. "Got it?"

I nodded very slowly, very carefully.

"Hands on your head."

Clenching my teeth, I brought my right hand up, followed
by my injured left. I could feel blood trickling down my
sleeve, seeping through the makeshift bandage and soaking
into my hair. My fingers were fat and throbbing and I
wasn't sure how long I'd be able to hold this position.

 In the background I heard Scully gasp. The gunman blinked
but held my gaze.

"Wh . . .  what are you going to d . . .  do with us?"
Jake. The tremor in his voice betraying his terror.

Slowly, the gunman moved his weapon in a small arc, taking
aim at Jake's head. From the corner of my eye, I could see
Jake leaning against a tree on the other side of Scully.
His posture mirrored my own.

Without warning, the soldier fired a shot and hit the tree
just above Jake's head. I heard a soft whimper.

"I said, no talking."

The forest was eerily silent. The air cool. Despite the
low temperature, I could feel sweat sliding down my back.
There were thin streaks of sunlight penetrating the thick,
green, canopy above us. Small insects buzzed in erratic
circles, seemingly trapped in the narrow beams of light.

The soldier took a few paces backwards, reached behind and
unclipped a walkie-talkie from his belt. He switched it on
and a static crackle filled the air until he pressed the
transmit button.

"I've got them. Tell 'Falcon 2' to return to base."

A scratchy voice replied, "Will do. Bring them in."

"Roger. Out."

He clipped the radio back on his waist and came towards us.

"You." He pointed the barrel at Jake. "Up. Keep your hands
on your head."

Jake scrambled to his feet, eyes flitting nervously from
side to side.  

The soldier turned to Scully. "Over there." Again, using
his gun, he indicated that she should get up and stand
beside Jake. Scully was slower to rise. I was right; her
hands were tied behind her back, making it difficult to
stand.

"Okay. You! Up."  He pointed at me.  I resisted laughing
in his face. He had to be kidding.

"I can't," I said, looking him squarely in the eye. His
face remained impassive, except for a small twitch of his
left eyelid.

He cocked the gun and aimed it at my chest. "I won't tell
you again."

"Threaten me all you like. I *can't* get up, you stupid
son of a bitch. My ankle's broken." I wasn't sure that was
true, but it sure as hell felt as if it was.

The bastard didn't utter a word; the only evidence that
he'd heard me was a slow grin creeping across his face. I
saw his finger tighten on the trigger and braced myself for
the impact. But it didn't come. Instead he turned slowly
and aimed the rifle at Scully's head.

She sucked in a quick breath and her eyes widened in shock.

"No . . . Leave her!"

"On your feet, Agent Mulder. Or the little lady gets it."

Slowly I pushed myself up, leaning heavily against the
tree. My head was spinning, the forest shrinking and
expanding into a dull green blur.  I hung on tight fighting
gravity and the urge to vomit. Blood rushed to my hand and
ankle. Both throbbed mercilessly, and for a second, I
doubted even my concern for Scully's safety would be enough
to keep me upright.

Some long, deep breaths pulled the roar in my ears down to
a soft hum and eventually the forest came back into focus.

Another jab to the kidney drew my attention back to the
man with the gun.

"Move."

I took a tentative hop towards Scully and Jake, reaching
out to the nearest tree for support. This was going to be
slow progress. I tried putting some weight on my injured
foot. Pain, sudden and intense shot through my whole leg.
The shock took my breath away and I fell forward landing on
elbows and knees. Panting hard, I collapsed onto my left
side and dry heaved into the undergrowth.

"Get up."

"He can't! He's injured." I heard Scully take a step
towards me.

Jeezus, Scully, don't antagonize him. The guy's just
itching to pull the trigger.

"At least let us help him," Scully said, pleading.

There were a few seconds of tense silence before the man
tossed a penknife to Jake. "Cut her loose," he said,
nodding toward Scully.

A minute or so later Jake had Scully's hands free. They
each took one of my arms and hauled me up.

"Move. That way."  

This was not good. Once they had us back at their base we
had no chance of escape. And in my condition I was only
going to be a hindrance to any chance Jake and Scully had
of getting away.

My head, hand and ankle were killing me. Blood was still
dripping from the bullet wound between my thumb and
forefinger and the longer I was forced to remain upright
the more my head spun. My knees kept buckling and I knew
the strain of supporting most of my weight had to be paying
out on Jake and Scully.

"Scully," I slurred, my head lolling to the side. "I . . .
can't keep . . . going. You . . ."

"Shut up, Mulder. You want to get us all killed?" Scully
hissed at me.  I could hear the strain in her voice.

I had enough sense to keep my conversation to a whisper.
"Scully . . . you gotta  make . . . a break . . . for it."

"I'm not going anywhere, Mulder. Not without you."

"No. You, Jake, make a . . . run for it. Once back . . .
at base . . .  no chance."

"No, Mulder."

I let my head flop to the other side and tried to make
Jake see sense. "I'll create . . . diversion. You two . . .
run."

Jake was chewing on his lip. At least he was giving my
suggestion some thought.

I hoped.

"Hey!"  I felt the muzzle of the rifle push into the small
of my back. "Shut. Up."  With a final shove of his weapon,
the man resumed his position a few paces behind us.  "Keep
moving."

"Scully." It was barely a whisper, but enough to make her
look at me. I begged her with my eyes. She and Jake had to
make a run for it. I couldn't tell if she was with me or
not and with my energy levels fast petering out, I didn't
have time to find out.

We struggled on for another 10 minutes before I decided to
make my move. Groaning, I let my body go limp, my head
rolling back so I could grab a quick glimpse of where the
gunman was.

"Mulder!"

I sensed the gunman approaching. Just before I hit the
ground I sucked in a deep breath and tensed my left leg.  I
bent my knee and lunged at the soldier, wrapping both arms
around his legs and tackled him to the ground.

"Run, Scully!"  I could only hope that she and Jake had
taken advantage of my diversion.

The gunman was big and landed hard. But he was in much
better shape than me and despite my best effort to anchor
him to the ground it was only a matter of seconds before
he'd managed to free himself from beneath my body and climb
to his feet.  I lurched at him again, my shoulder slamming
into his knees. He stumbled but quickly regained his
balance. This time when his boot connected with my ribs he
held nothing back. Air whooshed from my lungs, the sudden
agony left me stunned and gasping on the ground. But I
couldn't afford to give up. Fighting to draw breath, I
scrambled after the shooter, adrenalin momentarily numbing
everything but my desperate need to stop him from firing at
Scully and Jake.

Using a small sapling as support, I propelled myself
forward on one leg, but my left knee gave way under me.
Pure terror raced through my veins as I watched the gunman
pick up his pace and disappear among the trees.

Fuck!

"Mulder!"

I turned in time to see Scully coming out from behind a
small poplar.

"No! Get out of here. Scully. Go."

She ignored me and was squatting by my side a second
later. Without another word she slung my right arm over her
shoulder and attempted to drag me to my feet.

"No!" I shrugged her off. "Shit, Scully! Leave me. Go.
There's not much time."

"I told you, I'm not going anywhere without you. Either
you come with me, or we both stay here."

I gripped her shoulder with my good hand, ducking my head
so I could look her in the eye. "I can't, Scully. I wasn't
kidding before. I honestly can't make it. I think . . ." I
hesitated, looking past her to see if the soldier was
coming back. "I rolled my ankle again. I think it's broken.
I *can't* walk. With me, you'll have no chance. Please,
just get out of here. You've got to tell someone what's
going on . . ."

"Get up!" She tugged on my arm. "You want someone to know
about this then tell them yourself. Now *come on*."

Even as she was saying the words the forest was graying
out around me. I was at the point where I could barely
think beyond the pain in my ankle and the burning throb in
my hand.

"Can't . . .  Scully."  

Spots were starting to slide across my vision. I gave my
head a quick shake but it was no use. Pins and needles
pricked at my fingertips and an insistent hum buzzed
through my ears. I felt myself pitch forward, a vague
sensation of Scully's arms wrapping around my chest and my
name a hollow sound on her lips.


Angel by My Side Part 5

Author : Sally Bahnsen    rbahnsen@optusnet.com.au

Disclaimer and headers in part one.
*****************************


Wednesday

4:42 PM


"Well, well, well, isn't this cozy."

The soldier's Rambo-like dialogue had evolved into fully-
fledged sentences, his cold, emotionless tone grating on my
nerves.

At the sound of his voice, Scully's arms tightened
protectively around me.

Although I'd been teetering on the edge of consciousness a
minute or so before he found us, I hadn't opened my eyes or
attempted to move from the comfort of Scully's embrace.
Somehow, she had pulled me onto her lap and I was nuzzled
with my head against her breast. Mr. Military-man had got
one thing right. It *was* cozy. And I was selfishly feeling
no inclination to move from this position any time soon.

"My partner needs medical attention."  Scully's voice
vibrated through my cheek.

"Oh, Agent Mulder will be getting plenty of attention all
right. Might even be some medication involved."

I continued to play possum, hoping to delay whatever it
was he had in store for us.

"What are you going to do?"  Scully's breath puffed warm
against my ear.

He didn't answer, but I heard movement, then footsteps
coming closer.

"He awake yet?"

I felt Scully stiffen, and then gasp. "No!"

Her arms squeezed tighter just as the soldier's boot
landed a direct hit to my injured ankle.

A scream tore from my throat and I hugged my leg to my
chest.

Scully scrambled out from under me, resting a hand on my
shoulder while I writhed in agony.

"Stop it! You bastard! What the hell do you hope to gain
by hurting him even more?" 

The soldier said nothing.

"Who *are* you?"

I heard a soft snort from the man with the gun. "I'm no
one. I don't exist."

"Let us go." Scully's tone was even.

The man's answer was a quiet chuckle. "That ain't gonna
happen."

His next words put a chill in my blood. "Get him up, or
he'll have a bullet wound to match that busted ankle."

"He * can't* get up. Please. Even you have to see that."

"One thing I know, give a man enough motivation and he can
do whatever needs to be done."  I felt the muzzle of the gun
press against my right thigh. "Get up, Agent Mulder."

"I . . . can't . . ."

"Oh, I think you can."

The muzzle moved from my leg. I heard a crack, a gasp and
then Scully slumped across my body.

Oh, God!

"Scully!"

He was right. In a split second I had all the motivation I
needed to push myself up, frantically gathering Scully into
my arms and examining her body for a bullet wound.

There was none. But she was out cold.

"Scully," I whispered against her ear, pushing loose hair
from her face. Her jaw was red, and already swelling, a
small stream of blood trickled from the corner of her
mouth. I wiped it with the edge of my sleeve.

Her eyes fluttered open and she stared up at me, dazed.
"Mulder?"

"Shh, lie still." 

She blinked, trying to comprehend what I'd said.

A few seconds later she was struggling to sit up, cupping
a hand to her jaw.  "What happened?"

"Mr. Macho Man, here," I tipped my chin towards the
gunman, "hit you."

"Are you okay, Mulder?"

I laughed out loud.  Then I shook my head.  "No. I'm not
okay. But I'm a damn sight better than I was a few seconds
ago."

God, that was an understatement. I was sure he'd killed her.

I heard the soldier cock his rifle and turned in time to
see him take up aim directly at Scully's chest. "Get up,
Agent Mulder."

"Don't . . . don't hurt her."  I said. "I'll go with you."

"See. All it takes is a little persuasion." He lowered his
weapon, but not his guard.

With my good hand, I traced a line along Scully's cheek.
"Can you make it?"

She nodded and climbed to her feet. I saw her sway for a
second, close her eyes and suck in a deep breath. When she
had herself under control, I pulled myself up, hugging a
tree trunk and waiting for my own wave of dizziness to
subside.
 
"How far?" I asked, struggling to stand on one leg.

"You'll know when we get there, now get moving."

"I'm going to need . . . some help."

He brought the rifle to his shoulder.

I held up my right hand. "Look, I'm not . . . yanking your
chain. I *will* go with you, but unless . . . unless you
get me some assistance, I'm not going to make it."

The gunman glanced between Scully and me, summing up the
situation. After a few seconds of silent deliberation he
reached for his radio and called for back-up.

Scully came and stood beside me, again slinging my right
arm over her shoulder. Between her and the tree, I managed
to stay upright until help; such as it was, arrived.

About ten minutes later, two more armed men marched on the
scene. I recognized one of them as the man who had been
tracking Jake and me. Scully stepped back and then with
very little consideration for my well-being, the two men
pulled an arm over each shoulder and half dragged, half
carried me towards our destination.

All care and no responsibility. In this case I detected
neither from my 'helpers'. Their focus was firmly fixed on
reaching their base in the quickest possible time. My
grunts of pain were met with silent indifference as we wove
a clumsy path through the forest.

'Base', when we finally arrived there, consisted of two
army trucks with a camouflage net strung between them. A
table with a two-way radio on it was set up under the
cover, and a man, headphones slung around his neck, sat
with his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. He
looked up as we approached but made no attempt to rise.

Our escorts headed towards the rear of one of the trucks,
dragging me between them. A few feet from the vehicle the
man on my left let go of me and proceeded to unlatch the
canvass flap on the top half of the rear opening, then
lowered the gate. He stood back and nodded at the truck.

"You two, in."

I was shoved forward; Scully quickly gripped my arm to
stop me from falling.  I gave her a long look, trying to
gauge how she was holding up. The bruising along the side
of her jaw had darkened, she looked tired and pale and a
sharp stab of guilt reminded me she was in danger because
of my pig-headed determination to find Max.

"I said, GET IN!"  The muzzle of the rifle pressed against
my back.  

Without saying anything, Scully helped me inside. I
crawled along the rutted truck bed and leaned against its
side, my head resting on the bench seat.  It was dark, and
smelled of diesel and old rubber. Scully climbed in and sat
beside me.

The tailgate was slammed shut. The canvass flap pulled
back into place.

"Hey!"  Scully scampered to the opening and put her arm
out before the covering was latched. "I need a first aid
kit. My partner's in a lot of pain, and he's bleeding."

The soldier, his hand still clutching the corner of the
tarpaulin above his head, shifted his gaze to me, taking in
the blood-soaked handkerchief wrapped around my hand. His
expression remained impassive, then he looked back at
Scully and pulled the flap shut, plunging the interior into
semi darkness.

"Son-of-a-bitch."  I heard Scully curse under her breath.
She made her way back to my side.

We sat in silence for a few minutes, me leaning on my left
side with my head still tipped back against the seat, and
Scully with her legs pulled to her chest, arms secured
around her knees.

"What do you think they're going to do with us, Mulder?"

"I don't know."  And I didn't. If their orders were to
kill us, why not do it back in the forest? Why bother
bringing us back here?

A few more seconds passed. "Are you okay, Scully?"

"I'm fine."  She sounded tired. She sounded pissed. She
didn't sound fine.

I tried to sit up straight, but a white-hot spark of agony
shot through my foot. I groaned and collapsed completely
onto my side.  The sudden spike of pain rounded out to a
slow, burning thud, working its way from the tips of my
toes through to my hip and down again. I lay still, my eyes
clenched shut while I tried to wait it out. But it didn't
stop; the throbbing continued to build until I found myself
moaning into the crook of my arm.

"Mulder? What is it?" Scully had her hand on my shoulder.

"Scully . . . can. . . . can you take . . . my boot off."
My words were coming out in ragged puffs. "Oh, God." I
moaned again, curling around my leg.

I heard her move, felt her hands on my leg, working their
way down towards my foot.

"Mulder, if I take the boot off you probably won't get it
back on.  It might be a better idea to ke--"

"No . . . please . . .  it hurts."

I could feel her hand running lightly along my leg.

"Okay, I want you to roll over onto your back.  I'll
support your ankle. Just take it nice and slow."

I did as I was told, biting down hard on my lip. The pain
was becoming unbearable.

"I'm going to undo the laces now, okay?"

"Yeah."  I nodded, although I wasn't sure she was looking
at me.

Scully lifted my foot onto her lap and started plucking at
the laces. Every little tug shot another burst of agony
along my calf.

When the boot was loosened she paused. "I'm going to take
it off now. Try and hold still, I'll do my best to be
gentle."

I grunted and draped my right arm across my eyes. My hand
balled into a fist and I could feel my fingernails digging
into my palm.

Scully started pulling. "Jeezus, Mulder, its stuck tight."

I didn't answer. I couldn't.  A cold sweat had broken out
across my brow, along my back and neck.

Some more careful maneuvering on Scully's part sent a wave
of nausea through my stomach. I arched my hips off the
floor and tried to push back with my left foot. "Oh God . .
.  Scully . . .   Shit . . ."

"Almost there, Mulder. Hold on." A second later the
pressure released from around my ankle and I slumped back
on the floor, panting like I'd just run a three-minute mile.

Scully ran her fingers over the outside of my foot. "Oh,
Mulder." Her hand crept up my leg, squeezing my thigh.

"Scully?"

"Mmm?"

"Don't . . . suppose you're carrying  . . . any pain
killers?"

The gentle stroking on my thigh told me I wasn't going to
like the answer. "Sorry, all the meds were in my back pack."

"S'okay," I whispered, but in reality it was getting less
and less okay by the minute.  I kept my eyes closed, trying
to endure the relentless throb in my ankle and the
escalating pain in my hand.

Scully still had my foot propped on her lap when the
canvass flap was flung open. I heard something slide along
the bed of the truck before the cover was snapped back in
place. In the dull light I could just make out a small
plastic army-green box resting by Scully's thigh, a red
cross on white background stamped on the lid.

Could our captors have had a change of heart?  I caught
Scully's quick glance. She looked a little wary but opened
the first aid kit and started rummaging through its
contents.

"Fresh bandages, peroxide . . ." I heard her sigh. "No
pain killers." She turned to me and squeezed my thigh. "I'm
sorry, Mulder. There's nothing here to give you any relief."

I swallowed hard. My ankle was killing me. My hand not
much better and there was a constant ringing in my ears.
Scully's announcement was almost enough to undo me. Tears
of frustration burned behind my eyes, but I held them in
check and nodded slowly.

"At least I can do something about your hand."

I didn't really care one way or the other what she did. I
was hurting too much to take an active role in any decision-
making.

Scully eased my foot off her lap and onto the floor of the
truck.

I bit back a groan.

A few seconds later she was lifting my foot again and
laying it on something soft. I hitched open an eye. She'd
taken off her parker and was using it to prop up my leg.

"No . . . Scully." My voice was little more than a croak
and I had to lick my lips before continuing. "Cold.  Put it
back  . . . on."

"I'm fine. Here, give me your hand."  She reached out and
took my left hand in hers examining the bloody cloth
binding. "How did this happen, Mulder?"
 
I told her.

She started unwrapping the handkerchief. A gush of warm
blood ran down my wrist.

"Dammit." Scully muttered under her breath and held my arm
above my head, pressing the handkerchief back in place
while she grabbed supplies from the first aid kit.

"I need to clean the wound. All I've got is peroxide. I
won't lie to you, it's going to hurt."

"I . . .  I know."

She lowered my arm, resting it across her knees. Blood
still dripped from the tips of my fingers. 

"I'm sorry, Mulder.  Are you ready?"

 I bit my lip, squeezed my eyes shut and offered a quick
nod.

The pain hit straight away. A sudden burning agony that
ate through my hand and traveled up to my shoulder.

"AAAAAAAAHFFFFFUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAHK!"

This time, no amount of will power could stop the tears
escaping. My whole body trembled and I knew the weak,
animalistic sounds I could hear belonged to me.

For a few seconds the buzzing in my ears grew to a loud
roar and all through it, somewhere in the distance, I could
hear Scully calling to me. But she was too far away. And it
was too hard to concentrate. My left hand was on fire, my
ankle caught in a vise and the accompanying pain was the
only thing making an impact on my senses.

I'm not sure how long it took before I became fully aware
of Scully's hand weaving through my hair, before her soft
crooning started to take on meaning. 

"It's okay, Mulder. It's okay."

When I was able to open my eyes, I found she'd already
wrapped my hand in a thick wad of gauze.  It was lying
across my chest and I was cradled in her arms. Again. Under
different circumstances I could find myself growing to like
this position.

I tried to tell her I was awake but all I could manage was
a grunt.

She acknowledged my attempt at speech. "Hey. Are you okay?"

In all honesty I felt as if I'd never be okay again. But
Scully had done every thing in her power to help me, to
make me more comfortable and I didn't have the heart to
tell her I felt as if I was on the brink of death.

I nodded against her chest. "Mmm."  I licked my lips. "
Mmmkay.  Thank . . . you."

We sat in somewhat companionable silence, me,
contemplating the inside of my eyelids and gnawing on my
bottom lip, practicing one last stab at macho stoicism,
while Scully hugged my trembling body closer to hers in a
vain attempt to still my shivering.

"Who was that guy you were with, Mulder?"

"Jake. Friend . . . of Max. Soldiers . . . chasing him."

"What was he doing out here?"

"Looking . . . for Max."

"How did he know where to look?"

"NICAP.  Jake's with . . . NICAP. Been abducted.  Knows
about Max."

She seemed to take a moment to consider this before
continuing.

"Where do you think he is now?"

"Don't know. Hopefully gone . . . to get help."

A spasm of pain squeezed my ankle. I arched against
Scully, grinding my teeth and breathing through my nose. I
felt Scully's arms tense around me and I made a conscious
effort to try and relax but the pain was out of control and
so was I. It seemed to take forever before the spasm
subsided and I was left weak and sweaty and barely hanging
on to consciousness.

Before I knew what was happening, Scully was lowering me
to the floor of the truck and heading towards the rear
opening. She started pulling at the canvas, tugging and
slapping it with her hand.

"HEY!  Can anybody hear me?  I need help in here!  HEY!"

"Sc . . .  Scully. What are you . . .  doing?"

"This has gone on long enough. If they're going to kill
us, then they can do it now. If not, I'm going to get you
some pain relief."

She went through the routine again. Tugging on the flap,
she called out, but no one came and no one answered her.
Finally admitting defeat, she moved back to my side.

"Scully . . .  I want you to listen to me.  Whatever . . .
these guys want.  They want it from me . . ."

"Mulder-"

"No . . .  wait.  You can get away . . . this has to be
exposed. You can't go  . . .  to the FBI. Contact the
media, tell them everything. The public deserve to know . .
."

"Do you have some kind of hearing impairment, Mulder? I
already told you, I'm not going anywhere without you."

"Scu- "

But I didn't get to finish my argument. The canvass flap
was thrown open and two armed men burst into the truck,
each of them grabbing one of my arms and hauling me to my
feet. My ankle exploded in pain and I could just make out
Scully's cry of protest over my own anguished scream, but
it made no difference. When the soldiers jumped from the
truck, me still held between them, I lost my fight with
consciousness. Darkness swept over me and I finally sank
into oblivion.

xxXXxx

Angel by My Side part 6.
.
***********************


Wednesday

10:06PM
*********


"Tell me where the film is!"

"I don't . . . know . . .  what you're  . . . talking
about."

I'd regained consciousness slumped on a fold-out chair, my
hands tied behind my back. The gauze bandage Scully had
applied earlier was damp with fresh blood. A single
hurricane lamp swung idly on a thin wire hanging from the
roof in the middle of a tent. It cast a small circle of
light around me, leaving the rest of the interior in shadow.

"Don't jerk me around, Agent Mulder. You know exactly what
I'm talking about."

Sure I did. But I wasn't going to be sharing it with him
any time soon.

I closed my eyes and took some deep breaths. "I think I'm
going to be sick."

"You listen to me, you son of a bitch," Mr. Military-Man
buried his hands in the lapels of my jacket and jerked me
forward. "You tell me where that film is or  . . ."

"Or . . . what?" I sneered at him. "You'll . . . kill me?
Good luck . . . getting . . . your answers then."

Pain, sudden and sharp, erupted along my jaw. My head
snapped to the side and a warm, metallic taste filled my
mouth. 

"Kill you? No, I'm not going to kill you." He turned to
one of the men standing in the shadows. "Bring me Agent
Scully."

My stomach twisted into a tight knot. I pulled on the rope
binding my hands.  "Leave her . . .  out of this!"

His answer was to bare his teeth. It might have been
interpreted as a smile on any other human, but on this man
it was pure evil.

"Something you'd like to tell me?"

I glared at him, weighing my options, but refusing to give
him one shred of information.

He moved into the shadows, leaving me to sweat it out.

A few minutes later there was a scuffle at the entrance of
the tent and the two men who had escorted me from the truck
arrived with Scully pinned between them. She looked
bewildered and bedraggled and as mad as hell. Until her
gaze fell on me.

"What's going on?" She tried to pull herself free, but the
soldiers held tight.

"Welcome to the party, Agent Scully." My antagonist
stepped into the light.

She ignored him, instead directed her attention to me.
"Are you okay, Mulder?"

No, I wasn't okay, not in the least, but it had nothing to
do with my physical condition.

"Where are my manners?" The man asked in mock self-
recrimination. He picked up a chair and placed it in front
of me. "Please," he indicated the seat, "sit down, Agent
Scully. Make yourself comfortable."

She was directed to the chair and forced to sit.

I couldn't look at her. This man was going to use her
against me. Either I talk, or she would pay for my silence.
I had to bide my time, try and come up with a plan.

"Agent Scully, I suppose you're wondering why you've been
invited here."

She didn't answer him, but if looks could kill, he'd be
pushing up daisies by sunrise.

The man started to pace, slow controlled steps, hands
clasped behind his back.

"Agent Mulder has something we want, but he's refusing to
tell us where it is."

I glanced quickly at Scully. She was studying me intently,
fear in her eyes. I turned my attention back to the
soldier. "I told you. I don't know what you're talking
about."

He stopped pacing and chuckled quietly before turning
deadly serious and leaned in close to me, his face inches
from mine. "I don't believe you."

Standing abruptly, he resumed his pacing, aiming his
comments at Scully. "So, because of Agent Mulder's lack of
co operation, we're going to call on your services."

"I--"

"Uh, uh, uh, don't interrupt me."  Again the pacing
ceased.  He turned quickly on his heel and disappeared into
the shadows. I heard him rummaging around. A few seconds
later he came back, my camera in his hand.

"Do either of you recognize this piece of equipment?"

Scully glanced quickly at me, licking her lips.  I
implored her with my eyes not to admit to anything.

She said nothing.

The man nodded sagely. "I thought we might get this
reaction." He placed the camera on a table. Then, without
warning strode to where I was sitting and picked up my
right leg, twisting hard on my ankle.

I hit the ground screaming.  My stomach heaved, my lungs
froze and all I could do was lay on my side, sobbing in
agony as everything around me swirled in a haze of gray and
white spots.  I wasn't sure how long I'd been there before
I felt myself being lifted and unceremoniously dropped onto
the seat. I started to slide down, my head lolling to the
side, but was dragged up and shoved hard against the back
of the chair.

Fingers that felt like iron talons gripped my jaw and
forced my head to the front.

"I said: look at me!"

I tried to focus on the distorted face spinning across my
line of sight. I could feel myself starting to black out,
then a hard slap to my left cheek brought me back.

"Stop it! Leave him alone. I'll tell you want you want to
know."

"No . . .  Scully  . . ." I gasped out. "Don't."

She ignored me. "It's ours."

"Thank you, Agent Scully."

The man twisted his fingers in my hair, yanking my head
back. "The film, Agent Mulder?"

"Go . . .  to hell."

"Wrong answer." He pushed my head back down, adding an
extra shove for effect. I sat with my chin on my chest;
eyes squeezed shut and my breath coming out in a ragged
wheeze.

"Okay, string her up."

His words took a few seconds to make sense to me, and even
when they did I wasn't sure I'd heard him right. I forced
my eyes open, and fought hard to clear my vision.

The two soldiers who had brought Scully hauled her to her
feet, dragging her to the rear of the tent. Blinking hard,
I struggled to make my eyes adjust to the darkness outside
of my circle of light.

Scully was kicking and twisting to get away. But she had
no chance. I saw them raise her hands above her head,
binding her wrists and attaching them to something in the
roof. She was stretched so only her toes touched the
ground.

"What . . .  what are you doing to her?" I croaked.

My interrogator rested a hand on my shoulder. "What do you
care, Agent Mulder? Surely your precious film is worth more
to you than your partner."

I watched in horror as one of the other men adjusted
something, forcing Scully's feet to raise a few inches from
the ground. All her weight was being taken by her
shoulders. I heard her whimper, but she bit down on her
lip.

Oh God.

"NO! STOP!" 

"Is there something you'd like to tell me, Agent Mulder?"

"Let her down!  I'll tell you where it is."

"The film, Agent Mulder."

"You'll get nothing until Scully is cut loose."

"Uh-uh-uh. I'm calling the shots."

He nodded to one of his men. The soldier made another
adjustment to the tension and this time Scully screamed.

"NO!  You son of a bitch. Let her down. I've got it. I've
got the film."

"Where is it?"

"It's in the bandage . . . on my ankle. Now cut her down!"

It took him approximately ten long, agonizing seconds to
find the film. When he had it in his hand, he gave the
signal for Scully to be released. She slumped to the ground
but seemed to be conscious. The two men picked her up and
sat her in front of me again.

"Scully?"

She didn't look at me. Her head was turned to the side,
both arms wrapped around her chest.

"Scully, look at me."  

"I'm fine, Mulder," but still she sat with her face averted.

"I . . . I' m sorry." I mumbled weakly. "I'm sorry."

She snapped her head around, eyes flaming. Her breath
huffed loudly through her nose as she glared at me.

"I said, I'm fine."

The man in charge stood with the film nestled in his palm.
"Very touching," he mused, a sadistic grin plastered on his
face. He tossed the tiny film into the air a couple of
times and then, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on me, gave
the order for us to be returned to the truck.

It only took a few minutes before we were back in our
makeshift prison. The return journey was a blur of pain and
guilt. I was dragged between the two soldiers. Scully  made
it under her own steam, her face giving nothing away. Her
shoulders had to be hurting, but she didn't let on.

Inside the truck, it was pitch dark and as cold as hell. I
could hear Scully breathing, feel her close to me, but I
couldn't see a thing. Neither one of us said a word. I lay
on my side in a world of misery, my body wracked by
uncontrollable bouts of shivering.

"Scul . . .  Scully? I . . . I'm  . . . s . . . sorry."

"They're going to kill us, aren't they, Mulder?"

Her voice was small and child-like, trembling slightly
around the edge. And I had no way of alleviating her fear,
because for the first time since being captured I had the
same concern.

"I . . . d . . . don't know."

"They've got the film. They've got what they wanted,
there's no reason to keep us alive."

"They can't just kill . . . a couple of FBI Agents . . .
without consequences."

She huffed a bitter snort. "Everything I've seen so far
would indicate that these men have no fear of consequences.
Who's protecting them, Mulder?"

"Our Government . . . Scully." The pain was becoming
unbearable. It was hard to concentrate. We were heading
into an area that needed clear, concise explanations, and I
was in no condition to recite my name and address with any
conviction let alone explain the intricacies of a secret
government within a government.

"I don't buy that, Mulder. It has to be something else,
someone else pulling the strings. The government would
never get away with it."

Scully's questions, her musings, were insightful, and made
sense, but I was fast losing the energy and ability to
respond to them in any meaningful way. The cold was
penetrating deep into my bones, my shivering increased and
my teeth chattered loud against the silence of our prison.

I was drifting. Floating into a dark world where my
surroundings were shrinking behind a veil of despair. Pain
was my only sensation and it seemed like the only way I had
of escaping it was to give into the lethargy sweeping over
my body. I curled into a ball, my right hand clasping my
right leg just below the knee. There was no relief, no end
to the solid ache pulsing through my ankle.

"Mulder!"

I could hear Scully calling me, feel her hand on my
shoulder, understood that she wanted me to answer, but I
was powerless to respond. Too cold. Too tired.

"Mulder, answer me!"

Pain pierced through my ear lobe. I grunted and swatted
ineffectually at the space above my head. Fingers, small
and warm, wrapped around my wrist. I felt myself being
lifted, pulled, engulfed in sudden warmth. I heard a
rhythmic patter against my ear, felt an even rise and fall
under my head.

"Mulder, come on, talk to me."

"Cold." I managed to blurt out.

"I know. Me, too." The warmth grew tighter around me. I
nuzzled against it, seeking it   out.

 Scully?"

"Sshh,  I'm here. Rest, Mulder."

"Can't. Oh, God, it hurts."  I hated the pathetic
neediness in my voice.

"I know." The warmth shifted beneath me, moved along my
back, encircled my waist. It wrapped around me like a
blanket and I gave into it. Forgetting the pain,
concentrating on the comfort until eventually it was enough
to send me into a fitful sleep.

xxXXxx

"Mulder, wake up!"

I was instantly alert and just as instantly wished I
wasn't. There wasn't one square inch of my body that didn't
hurt. I groaned quietly.

"Mulder, listen. There's something happening outside."

Scully was no longer snuggled against me. I pushed myself
up, leaning on one elbow.

"What . . . what is it?"

"I don't know, but there's activity out there, and raised
voices."

She scooted to the back of the truck. I heard her working
on the flap. "Dammit, they've locked us in tight."

A high pitched whine reverberated through the truck. The
raised voices outside grew in strength, becoming desperate.

"Scully, get over here!"

"I want to see  . . . ."

"Now, Scully! Get away from the door!" She scampered back
until she was up against me. I wrapped an arm around her
and forced her down, trying to cover her with my body. The
whining grew until it hurt my ears, a sudden flash of
bright light followed and I crushed Scully to the floor of
the truck. The temperature inside climbed, the whine
continued to grow, drowning out the shouting, splitting the
silence in two.  Until suddenly, it was all over. Darkness
returned. There was now a quiet so intense I wondered
briefly if my hearing had been affected.

Scully stirred beneath me and I rolled to the side.
"Mulder? What the hell was that?"

"I think . . . we were just witness to an alien homecoming."

"What are you talking about?"

"Are you . . . . okay, Scully? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine. What just happened?"

"Same as . . . what happened in the warehouse. Only this
time --"

Footsteps pounding on the ground outside put a halt to my
theorizing. "Agent Mulder!" Someone was hammering on the
side of the truck. "Agent Mulder, are you in there?"

"Scully . . . it's Jake."

She started calling out to him. "In here! We're in here."

It was only a minute or two later before he'd unlaced the
canvass flap and entered the truck, a flashlight in his
hand and urgency in his voice. "Let's go. Come on!"

"Mulder's hurt, he can't walk."

"I figured that, I've brought help." As good as his word,
another figure climbed in behind him. "This is Jerry."

"Hey."

The beam from Jake's flashlight shone briefly on his
companion before flicking back to where I was lying.

Jerry was bigger than Jake by about six inches and thirty
pounds. In the dark it was hard to make out his features
but in the few seconds the light had swept over him, I had
no trouble recognizing the cap on his head. It was
identical to Jake's and the one hanging on the coat tree in
my apartment.

Jake handed the light to Scully, tapped Jerry on the arm
and then both of them hauled me up. My stomach immediately
lurched and my head spun, both my knees buckled and it was
only my rescuers' firm hold that stopped me from landing
straight back on my ass.

I fought to stay conscious - these guys needed all the
help they could get and my dead weight would only hinder
our chances of escape.

"Where . . .  where are the soldiers?"

"Bar-b-qued."

"What?"

"Burnt to a crisp."

When we left the truck the stench of burning flesh was
overwhelming. The area surrounding the truck was akin to
that of a nuclear disaster zone. Trees stood like scorched
skeletons, their branches black and bare. On the ground
there were at least two shriveled corpses, scarcely
recognizable as human.  Our truck was covered in a thick
coating of ash, the tires a pool of melted rubber on the
ground.

How the hell had we survived?

"Come on." Jake urged me forward.

"No . . .  wait. My backpack. The camera . . . film."

Jake's reply began with a short, sharp snort. "You're
kidding, right? There's nothing left, it's all gone"

"But --"

"No way we're hanging around, man, we gotta get out of
here. This way."

I had no idea where 'this way' was. It was dark except for
the wavering beam of light Jerry directed on the path in
front of us.  We staggered and weaved our way through the
woods, both men dragging me between them.

"Where are we going?"  Scully asked in between gasping for
breath.

"Not much further."

"No, stop! I want to know where you're taking us! Mulder
needs a hospital." She grabbed Jake's sleeve and tugged him
to a standstill.

My arms started to slip from around their shoulders and
the two men jerked me back in place.

I couldn't help groaning.

"Look at him!" I could just make out Scully's small figure
standing in front of us. "He can't go much further."

"Scully . . .  tsokay."

"No, Mulder, it's not."  She fronted Jake eye to chest. "I
want to know where you're taking us."

I felt Jake heave a sigh. "Look, we've got wheels. We can
get you out of here, but it's still another half mile or
so."

My heart plummeted to my feet. A half mile or a hundred,
it felt the same to me and I was beginning to think we were
never going to be okay.

Scully's hand swept through my hair, coming to rest on my
forehead. "He's burning up." It was more to herself than to
anyone in particular. Then turning my head with her
fingertips so I was looking directly at her, she said, "Can
you do this, Mulder?"

Jerry aimed his flashlight at Scully's feet. The light
cast her face in a shadowy glow.  Even through the foggy
haze masquerading as my eyesight, I could see dark smudges
under her eyes and the deep blue tinge to her jaw line. She
looked exhausted, and she was absently massaging her right
bicep. I'd put Scully through enough. We had to make it.

I gave a quick nod. "Let's . . .  Let's  go."

I lost all track of time. It could have been another
thirty minutes or it might have been two hours before the
flashlight picked up what looked like a ranger trail. From
there, we staggered along for a few more minutes before
light glinted off metal and I heard a quiet whoop of
triumph from our rescuers.

With some careful maneuvering, I was bundled into the back
of a dark colored SUV and eased along the seat with my
right leg stretched out in front of me.

"We need something under his leg. If this ankle is broken,
as I suspect it is, we need to stabilize it." 

I lay with my head resting against the side window, eyes
and lips clenched tightly shut and my left arm draped
across my chest.

Jerry's voice floated through the fog in my head. "Here's
a pen light. Try to keep the beam contained within the
vehicle. We don't want to advertise our position. There are
blankets, a first aid kit and water in the trunk. That
should keep you going until we get back."

Before Jerry had even finished speaking, Scully was out of
the car and confronting him.

"Hey! Woah, wait. Where are you going?"

"Max is out there somewhere."

"My partner needs a hospital!"

"Sc  . . . Scully, it's . . .  it's okay."

"We're wasting time, Agent Scully. Take care of Agent
Mulder. We'll be back as soon as we can."

"But--" 

Even as she started to argue again I heard two sets of
footfalls fading into the darkness.

"Dammit!"

"It's okay . . . . Scully. If . . . . I'm right . . .about
what just happened . . .then they'll . . . .find him."

She didn't answer me, instead she turned her attention to
rummaging around in the rear of the vehicle.  I felt her
lift my leg and I bit back a scream as she pushed a blanket
under it, easing the pressure on my ankle. Then she covered
me with another blanket and I huddled under it, still
shivering.

"Mulder, I need to stabilize your foot." She leaned in and
took my right hand and pushed something into my palm.
"Here, at least these will help with the pain."

I gulped the pills down with a bottle of water then
collapsed back against the passenger door again.

"Okay, I'm going to rewrap the bandage on your ankle."
Resting a hand lightly on my knee she added, "Try to relax."

'Relax' didn't exist in my vocabulary. From the moment
Scully started to undo the bandage, agony shot in short,
sharp, spurts from my toes to my hip. I squirmed and moaned
and failed miserably to exhibit any kind of teeth-clenching
control. I could hear myself whimpering, but was powerless
to stop it, until finally, the tugging on my ankle let up.

By then sweat was pouring down my face, the blanket a
twisted knot of wool in my right fist. And Scully's voice
was an abstract sound echoing down a long tunnel.
Eventually, I became aware of her hand sifting through my
hair, occasionally stroking along my cheek.

"Mulder, are you with me?"

"Mm." I grunted.

She didn't say anything else, instead pulled my left hand
from under the blanket and started the whole agonizing
bandage-wrapping process all over.  I continued to shiver
violently, the blanket barely having any effect on keeping
me warm.

When Scully had run out of body parts on which to inflict
her torture, she closed the driver's side door and made her
way around to where my head was leaning against the
passenger window. Carefully, she opened the door and eased
herself in under me so I was resting on her lap. She
wrapped her arms around me and I nestled closer, seeking
out her body heat.

"Do you really think they'll find him?" She asked.

"I . . . I don't see why not. It follows the pattern. Max
has always been returned. I think that what happened back
at the army base were the aliens bringing him back."

Scully shuddered and shifted in her seat. "Well, they
better get back soon. I feel like a sitting duck here." She
turned her head, peering into the darkness.

When the driver's door was suddenly swung open, we both
nearly jumped through the roof. Jerry climbed in behind the
wheel while simultaneously starting the engine. A split
second later the rear doors were flung open and two figures
bundled into to the storage area behind the back seat.

I recognized Jake. There was another smaller figure with
him - I couldn't see their face.

Jake slammed the doors behind him, yelling. "Go, go, go.
We're in."

Jerry shoved on the gear shift and hit the accelerator,
sending a spray of dirt and leaves into the air. The rear
end fish-tailed left and right until eventually the tires
found traction and we sped off along the trail.

Scully gripped me tightly and I lay in her arms gritting
my teeth. Every shudder and bounce of the car sent a spasm
of agony through my foot. No one said a word; the only
sound was the whine of the engine and Jerry's quiet cursing
under his breath.

I struggled to sit up, "Scully . . .  is . . .  is it Max?
Did they find him?"

I had to see him, I had to know.

"Lay still, Mulder. It's him.  They found him."

Max was safe. Thank God. Relief washed over me. I slumped
back against Scully, weak and light-headed and unable to
keep my eyes open one second longer.



xxxXXXxxx

Angel by My Side part seven


Time Unknown
*************


Drifting half in and half out of consciousness, I was only
vaguely aware of the SUV pulling up outside of the ER.

"We're here, Mulder."

Scully slid from under me and opened the car door. I felt
her hand grip my shoulder. "Just hold on, Mulder, I'm going
to get some help."

A blast of frigid air blew through the open door; I
shivered harder and huddled under my blanket. A few seconds
later the door slammed shut and Scully was gone.

I had to know how Max was doing. Bracing my elbows on the
seat, I tried to push up, but even small movements caused
big pain and the best I could manage was a feeble attempt
at lifting my head.

"Max?" 

"He's all right, Agent Mulder, he's sleeping it off."

Sleeping. Yeah, that sounded good. I closed my eyes and
drifted off again.

*******************


My awakening was rude and sudden. Pain exploded through my
ankle and I shot back to consciousness with a scream caught
in my throat.  I was being dragged, pulled from the vehicle.

"Sto . . .  Stop. Nonononononono . . .  hurts . . ."

"Easy, take it easy. Watch that right leg. Someone support
his ankle."  A man's voice.

I was being lifted.  For a second, I was suspended in mid
air until I felt something soft and springy beneath me.

A pathetic whimper trembled on my lips.

"Mulder, look at me." Warmth covered my brow, crept along
the side of my face and stroked my jaw.

Forcing my eyes open, I was only just able to make out
Scully's blurry face swimming above me.

"It's okay.  It's going to be all right, we're at the
hospital."

I nodded, I understood, but I was past caring.  My right
leg felt as if it was on fire and it was taking all of my
energy just to deal with that.

"Okay, let's get him inside."

The gurney started moving.  I alternated between clenching
my eyes shut and staring wide-eyed at the overhead lights.

"Sc . . .  Sc . . . Scully?" 

"Here, Mulder, I'm right here." She came into view, her
hand snaking under the blankets to grip mine."

Darkness continued to tug at the edge of my consciousness,
but sharp, stabbing pain through my foot kept me from
slipping under.

Once in the ER, I was stripped of my jacket, sweatshirt
and tee. Cold air assaulted my body, bright light shone in
my eyes and all through it I could feel the pain. In my
foot, my hand, even my chest hurt.

"Let's start an IV. Normal Saline at 200cc an hour. One
gram of Ancef.  I want blood cultures and type and cross
him for four units packed red blood cells, on hold. I want
routine labs--CBC and Diff, and Chem Panel."

I was aware of a needle being inserted into the crook of
my elbow.

"Scu . . .  Scully." My tongue seemed too big for my
mouth, I was having trouble saying her name. 

"Mr. Mulder, hey there, I'm Doctor Crawford, I'm going to
be taking care of you tonight. How are you feeling?"

I stared up at the smiling face of a twenty-something year
old man and grunted my response.

"Okay, not that good, huh? Well let's see if we can help
you out a little. First I need to ask you some questions."
He glanced towards Scully then looked back at me. "I
understand you hurt your ankle about two days ago and re-
injured it today. Is that right?"

I nodded, gritting my teeth and moving restlessly when one
of the nurses started to cut my jeans while another worked
on my hand, unwrapping the bandage Scully had applied, God,
how long ago was it?

"Where does it hurt now?"

"Ankle."

"Is the pain only in your ankle or does your knee, foot or
shin hurt also?"

I grunted in the affirmative again.  "Mostly . . . ankle."

My jeans were cut above my knee. The doctor moved towards
my feet and watched while the nurse started to unwrap the
bandage. I squirmed on the table and tried not to whimper.

"How did the injury happen, Mr. Mulder?" 

"I fell. Down a ravine. Twisted . . . my ankle."

"Okay, did you your ankle turn in or out?"

"Out."

"Did you hear a crack or a pop?"

"Not sure . . . think . . . I felt . . . something crack."

"Were you able to walk immediately after the injury?"

"No choice. Had to get away."

I saw him glance towards Scully, then at the nurse working
on my hand.

"What about now, were you able to bear weight before you
were brought in?"

"No. Uh-uh."

"Any numbness or tingling in your leg, ankle or foot?"  He
prodded along my calf.

I shook my head.

"Can you move your toes for me?"

I tried, I really did, but even the slightest movement
hurt too much.

I felt the doctor's hand rest lightly on my ankle then he
started to palpate along my foot and that's when I
completely lost what little composure I'd been managing to
hold onto. The Emergency Room shrunk to a pinprick of light
and bile hovered dangerously at the back of my throat. If
I'd been able to unlock my jaw I would have let out a long,
healthy scream.

Slowly, the light grew brighter and when the ER came back
into focus, it was Scully's face I saw first. "It's okay,
Mulder. It's okay. Try to relax."

I was beginning to hate the word 'relax.' It had no
business even being in the same hemisphere as me.

Scully was threading her fingers through my hair. I stared
up at her, not trusting myself to speak. Tears leaked from
the corner of my eyes and I was shivering so hard I was
afraid I was going to shake myself right off the table.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Mulder. Just a couple more questions
before I send you off for an X ray. I'm going to run a pin
lightly over the tips of your toes and I want you to tell
me if you can feel it, okay?"

I grunted.

A few seconds later I felt something scrape lightly across
my toes, my foot twitched in response and another explosion
of pain shot through my ankle.

"NO! STOP!"

"Okay, that's a good sign." He patted my good leg and
moved to stand beside my chest.

"Now, have you had previous ankle fractures, sprains or
surgeries?"

I licked my lips and swallowed hard, trying to get some
lubrication back in my mouth. "Sprains. No fractures. No
surgeries."

"Good, good. Okay, well, I suspect you've got a fracture
this time. I'm going to send you up to radiology for an X-
ray of your foot and shin as well as your ankle. The
swelling seems to be contained to the ankle joint and
lower calf but just to be on the safe side we want to rule
out any other injuries to your leg. We'll also get a
picture of your hand just to be sure what we're dealing
with there." He turned towards one of the nurses.

"Pattie, phone through to Craig and let him know we're
sending Mr. Mulder up in a few minutes." His attention
returned to me." Now, have you had any pain relief since
your injury?"

At this point, Scully picked up the ball. "He had two
Tylenol about ninety minutes ago."

Crawford smiled at me. "I bet that barely took the edge
off. Let's get your pain under control and I'll guarantee
you'll feel a lot better." He turned to the nurse who had
been working on my hand which was now swathed in a clean
gauze dressing.

"Let's give him 4 mgs of Morphine, IV push."

"Judging by the swelling, I'd say you've suffered
considerable soft tissue damage as well as the fracture.
I'll wait on the x-rays then decide exactly how we'll treat
you and whether we need to call in an orthopedic surgeon or
not. I want to get someone to look at that hand of yours,
too." His gaze shifted from me to Scully and he asked,
"Any questions?"

I shook my head. I wasn't interested in anything but pain
relief and prolonging this conversation was only going to
delay the meds. Scully didn't have anything to add, either.

*********


When I next awoke it was to a dull throb in both my right
ankle and left hand. Attempting to wet my lips with my
tongue proved to be a fruitless exercise. I managed to
articulate my discomfort with a dry cough and a long groan.
Then, as if by magic, a plastic straw was pressed against
my mouth.  It slid between my teeth and I sucked greedily,
relishing the feel of cool water sliding down my raw throat.

It took three attempts at opening my eyes before they
adjusted enough to cope with the bright fluorescent
lighting.

"Hey, welcome back."

I turned my head towards the voice, blinking a few times
to bring its owner into focus.

"Where . . .  where's Scully?"

The nurse attending to me checked the IV line and wrapped
a blood pressure cuff around my upper arm, inflating it
with enthusiastic efficiency.

"Agent Scully told me to tell you she had some urgent
business to attend to and will be back just as soon as she
can." Noting the blood pressure readout in my chart, she
asked,   "Now, how are you feeling?"

"That . . . depends."  I let my eyes wander around the
room, taking in the various items of hospital equipment
attached to my body, the thick dressing encompassing my
left hand which was suspended in a sling above my chest,
and the tented bed clothes arching over my right leg. "What
. . .  happened to . . . me?"

"You don't remember?" 

"I think I remember arriving at the hospital. The ER, but--
" I shook my head helplessly and appealed to the nurse.
"Then . . .  it gets a little hazy."

"You've had surgery to repair the fracture to your right
ankle. The doctor will be along a little later to talk to
you."

I glanced down at the cage-like contraption keeping the
bed clothes off my right ankle which I discovered was
propped up on several pillows. I tried wiggling my toes.
Excruciating pain exploded in my ankle. I swallowed hard,
fighting back a sudden attack of nausea, and while trying
to breathe through the agony radiating from my foot, I
decided to never attempt anything so stupid again.

"Mr. Mulder?"

The nurse's voice broke through the roaring in my ears.

I nodded quickly and bit hard on my lip, not daring to
open my eyes.

"Do you need something for the pain?"

I nodded again.

I was vaguely aware of the nurse moving around beside me.
I felt a slight tug on my IV line and then a few seconds
later a burning sensation climbed up my arm. Gradually, my
muscles started to relax until I found myself slipping
under a grey, foggy cloud, all traces of the earlier agony
fading slowly into the background.

"You get some rest, Agent Mulder. I'm sure your partner
will be back soon."

Always the model patient, I did as the nurse suggested,
letting the pain meds take me on a soothing ride into
oblivion.

xxxXXXxxx

Step down unit

10:07 am

************

"Is he going to be all right?"

"He looks dead."

"No, he's just sleeping. It's been a rough night."

I wasn't sure if it was the conversation volleying back
and forth above my bed or the interminable throb in my
ankle that eventually pulled me back into the land of the
conscious.

"I think he's waking up."  A male voice.

"Mulder?" I recognized Scully.

Light pressure brushed along my right forearm. A warm,
soothing stroke.

Definitely Scully.

"Can you hear me?"

I think I groaned at her.

"He looks like he's in pain."

Same male voice. Jake?

I groaned again. The closer I came to full consciousness,
the more aware I became of the growing ache in my leg.

"Mulder, are you okay?"  The stroking moved to my
forehead, along the side of my face and I couldn't help
leaning my cheek against her palm.

"Scully."  It came out more of a gasp than an actual word.

"Are you okay?  Do you need something for the pain?"

I felt my teeth start to dig into my bottom lip. I think I
groaned again. "Mrrrrm. Shi . . .it."

"I'll take that as a yes."  The IV line moved against my
arm, then that burning sensation was back.  It climbed
towards my shoulder and spread through my whole body.
Gradually my teeth let go of my lip and with a little more
effort I managed to open my eyes.

Three faces hovered above me; three pairs of eyes, each
framed by a frown waited expectantly for  . . .  something.

"Hey," I said, hoping that might fulfill the expectation.

Three sets of shoulders visibly relaxed.

I looked from Scully, to Jake and then to  . . .  Max!

My God! It wasn't a dream. We really did rescue him. I
stared at him as if he might suddenly evaporate.

"Agent Mulder? Are you okay?"

"Max," I said.  "Look at you. You're here, you're okay."

He looked nervously at Scully then back to me, but said
nothing. The subdued man beside my bed was nothing like the
hyperactive guy who had so enthusiastically taken me on a
tour of his motor home.

Scully came and stood beside my bed. Again she ran her
hand lightly over my brow before making a cursory check of
the IV.  "How are you feeling, Mulder?"

How was I feeling? Like absolute shit.

"I'm fine.  Where . . . where were you? The nurse said you
had urgent business."

"We went back for the Jeep."

"You what?!"  Without thinking I tried to push myself up
and was rewarded for my effort with white-hot pain searing
through my hand and ankle. I silently added 'sudden
movement' to my mental check list of things to avoid.

"Mulder?"

I forced my teeth from my lip again, swallowed a couple of
times to stop my head from spinning and rasped a quick,
"I'm okay."  If I could just get that bear trap off my
ankle I'd be even better.

"Then open your eyes and look at me."

I did.

"Jeezus, Scully, what were you thinking? The military
could have been out there."

"Which is why I thought it would be wise to retrieve the
Jeep."

It was hard to dispute the logic in Scully's argument, but
I wasn't happy about her risking capture again. "Did anyone
see you?"

"Mulder, there was no one left to see us. The campsite was
virtually obliterated."

She looked tired. And there was a dark bruise along the
line of her jaw. On closer inspection I could see a small
dried cut on the corner of her lip, and scratches on her
forehead that her hair wasn't able to hide. But despite
that, she was safe. And I guess that's all that really
mattered.

"It's okay, Scully.  You did good."

For a second, she looked shocked, then she smiled.  It was
beautiful. She should do that more often.

"A . . . Agent Mulder?  I . . . I want to thank you for
what you did."  Max shuffled nervously as he spoke.  Jake
seemed in awe of the medical equipment and was studying it
closely.

"Max, I didn't do anything. Trust me, I had nothing to do
with your rescue. It's Jake you need to thank."

"Oh . . . Oh, I have. But, you didn't give up, Agent
Mulder. You believed in me. You have no idea what it's like
to have people look at you as if you belong in a
psychiatric institution every time you mention UFO's."

"Oh, I don't know, Max.  I think I if I really stretch my
imagination I might be able to get the drift."

"Hmmm."  As always, Scully's input was invaluable.

"What are you going to do now, Max?"

Jake fielded this one. "We're going to Houston.  Me, Max
and Jerry. We have some friends there who will help us."

"Agent Mulder?" Max was talking to me again. "I know what
happened to me. It's been happening for years and this is
the first time I've remembered it.  I've got something to
work with now and I'm going to find more evidence. It's
real. I'm going to prove it."

I nodded. I, of all people, understood his need for proof.
I turned to Scully. "Did my wallet make it through last
night?"

She fished something out of the bedside cabinet; a plastic
bag containing my clothing.  She dug through the contents
and pulled out my wallet. I guess they didn't see that as
threat when they searched me.

"Scully, there should be some business cards in there.
Would you give one to Max, please?"

Jake had taken to pacing the room. The guy certainly had a
problem with staying in one place for too long.

Max took the card off Scully and turned it over, studying
it before turning a questioning gaze to me.

"If there's anything at all I can do to help, anything at
all, call me."

He slipped the small card inside his jeans pocket and held
out his right hand. "Thank you."

We shook hands.

Jake bounced towards me and held out his hand, too.  I
tensed, and took it, surprised and very relieved when he
showed a lot more self-restraint from the shoulder-
wrenching effort he'd put into shaking hands when we first
met.

"I don't know what to say, Jake; you saved our lives." I
looked from Max to Scully then back at Jake.  "Thank you."

Jake blushed and shuffled his feet then checked his watch.
"If you don't mind, Agent Mulder, we're going to get going.
We've got a long trip ahead of us."

Scully stepped forward. She gave both guys a hug and
walked them to the door. There was one last glance back at
me and then the two men were gone.

I slumped back against the pillows. We did it. We really
did it. We got Max back. Not that I'll ever be able to use
him against the conspiracy I've been fighting, not if he
was to have any chance of staying safe.

I closed my eyes, feeling suddenly drained.

Scully pulled her chair closer to the bed.  I heard her
sit, felt the bed dip as she leaned on the mattress.  I
waited, but she didn't say anything. After awhile the
silence got to me and I opened my eyes.

She smiled. "I thought you'd dozed off."

"Scully, about what happened out in the woods . . . . I .
. .  I'm so--"

"Ssshh."  She put a finger over my lips. "No, Mulder.
What happened in the woods was just part of the job."

"No, I should have told them where the film was before . .
.  before they . . ."

"Stop.  You were only protecting the evidence. I know
that. I've already told you; I'm a big girl and can take
care of myself."

She was trying to make me feel better, but I couldn't help
thinking about what they did to her in the tent.

I reached up with my good hand and traced a finger lightly
along the bruise colouring her jaw. "Are you okay?"

She gave a soft snort.  "All things considered, I'm fine."
She clasped my hand and gave it a quick squeeze. "I really
am." There was that smile again.

"Thank you,"  I said.

She tilted her head, one eyebrow arched in query.

"For watching my back. For not quitting on me."

She studied me intently for a couple of seconds, before
answering. "You're welcome, Mulder."

There was a short, sharp rap on the door and then a man
dressed in hospital scrubs and a white coat entered.

"Ah, Mr. Mulder, you're awake." He grabbed my chart from
the end of the bed, scanned it briefly, then looked back at
me. "We haven't had the opportunity to be formally
introduced.  I'm Doctor Simmons. I operated on you last
night."

I almost made the mistake of trying to sit up, but my
mental checklist kicked in and I stayed put.

"When can I get out of here?"

"Mulder!"  Who needs a mom when Scully is around?

He chuckled softly.  "I think we're going to have the
pleasure of your company for a little while yet." He
proceeded to turn back the sheet covering my ankle. "How
are feeling?  Have you had much pain."

"Only if I move," I answered honestly.

"Well, that's to be expected. We had to do a pretty big
repair job on that ankle of yours."  He ran his fingers
lightly over the tops of my toes.

I gasped and gnawed on my bottom lip.

"Tour toes are a nice colour. Can you move them for me?
Just take it slow."

"I tried that once. I didn't like it."

"Just a little wriggle," he insisted. 

Scully pushed her chair back and moved next to the doctor,
her medical curiosity getting the better of her.

I gritted my teeth and wriggled my toes.  Sweat broke out
on my forehead and my stomach rolled nervously.

"Good, good. That's excellent."

He then produced a needle. "I want you to tell me if you
can feel this."

He lightly pricked each toe with the needle, nodding with
satisfaction at every involuntary twitch and gasp.

After scribbling some notes on my chart, he pulled a
plastic chair alongside my bed. Scully resumed her place in
the comfortable settee.

"Okay, I'm going to talk to you about your surgery." He
glanced at Scully and then back at me again.

The doctor rattled off a medical encyclopedia's worth of
doctor-talk explaining how he repaired my ankle. For the
next few months, I was going to be airport security's worst
nightmare. When Scully translated med-speak into layman's
terms, it turned out the doc had put my ankle back together
with a metal plate and three screws.

I swallowed hard.  It wasn't sounding good. It wasn't
sounding like I was going to be back in the office any time
soon.

The doctor continued his explanation.

"There was considerable soft tissue damage as well, so
while we were in there, we repaired a tear to your anterior
talo-fibular ligament and a partial tear to the calcaneo-
fibula ligament." He pulled the sheet back further,
exposing more of my leg.  "Due to the extensive swelling,
we've given you a half cast until we can get that swelling
down. It will also enable us to monitor the wound for
infection.  If all goes well, we'll replace the half cast
with a short-leg non-walking cast. This means no weight
bearing *at all* for at least 6 weeks."

Six weeks! Translated from doctor-speak to words of two
syllables and allowing for around 60% exaggeration, that
meant I should be able to start putting weight on it in
about a week or two.

"And I can't stress that enough, Agent Mulder. You are not
to put any weight through the leg for the first six weeks."

I noticed Scully scowling at me over the doctor's shoulder.

"Right, no weight bearing," I agreed.  Scully's expression
lightened up.

"In a few days we'll get you started on some physical
therapy. Again, I cannot stress the importance of your
working with a physical therapist. If you are to regain
full range of motion in that ankle, you must be diligent
with your therapy. Do you have a physical therapist in DC?"

"Yeah, there is someone I've seen once or twice."

"Good. I'll write a letter explaining your injury and
treatment. Now, about your hand."  We looked at my heavily
bandaged hand suspended in a sling above my left shoulder.

He then went on to inform me that I had a hairline
fracture of my left index finger and 16 stitches to close
the gunshot wound.  "We've splinted the hand and finger and
are currently treating the infection with broad spectrum
antibiotics. This will also lower the chances of infection
in your ankle."

"When can I go back to work?"  Assuming of course that I
still had a job.

"Let's just take this one step at a time, Agent Mulder.
When the swelling subsides, I'll order another set of x-
rays to see how the healing is progressing and all being
well, then you'll be fitted with the cast. Taking into
account your hand injury, it's going to be awhile before
you can manage crutches. So, best guess I can give you at
the moment is that maybe you'll be fit for desk duty in
about 4 to 6 weeks."

Six weeks!

I looked at Scully.  Her right eyebrow was just daring me
to argue with the doc.

Six weeks! They had to be kidding. I had work to do. Leads
to follow up. Just because Max was out of the picture
didn't mean my line of investigation was finished.

The doc stood up. "Have you had any nausea?"

Yeah, just now. Six weeks! I wanted to throw up!

"No."

"And how's the pain. Are you getting the right dosage to
keep it under control?"

I nodded.

"Good. You should be able to have something to eat
tonight.  I'll organize for a light meal to be sent to your
room."  He made a quick note on my chart while I stared at
him in stunned silence.

One thing I knew for sure--providing I still had a job; I
wasn't going to be out of the office for six weeks, despite
Scully's threatening eyebrow.

"All right, you take it easy, Agent Mulder, and I'll be
back tomorrow to check on your progress."

Scully stood as the doc left my room. I glared at his back.

When we were left alone, Scully pulled her chair closer
and sat, leaning forward so her arms were resting on the
edge of my bed. She placed a hand on my right forearm.
"It's not the end of the world, Mulder. It could have been
worse."

"Oh yeah.  My right ankle is being held together with a
metal plate and a bunch of screws. I've got months of
physical therapy ahead of me and lets be honest, Scully,
even though the doctor didn't come right out and say it, my
ankle may never heal completely and that means I'll lose my
field agent status."

Shit!

I slumped back hard against the pillows and turned my face
away from Scully, my chest heaving with anger.

An uneasy silence hung over us. Scully's hand was still on
my arm.  What was I supposed to do for six weeks?  Hell,
what was I supposed to do during the time I was waiting for
my hand to heal so I could at least use crutches?  Even
maneuvering a wheelchair was going to be near impossible. 

"Mulder?"

"What?"

I felt her hand pull gently on my jaw.  "Look at me."

Slowly, I turned to face her.

"You're going to be fine."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know you.     And I know your determination.
Once you put your mind to something, there's no stopping
you.  With physical therapy there's no reason you can't be
back as good as new in a few months."

A few months. Yeah.  I snorted indelicately.

"I can help you, Mulder. If you'll let me."

"How? Unless you've suddenly developed the art of psychic
healing?"

She smiled indulgently, then continued. "You're going to
need somewhere to stay while you recuperate.  I've got a
spare room at my apartment, it's a bit untidy at the moment
but --"

I looked at her incredulously. She was offering for me to
go stay at her place? I shook my head..

"Scully, stop.  You don't know what you'd be letting
yourself in for. I appreciate the offer but I can't ask you
to do that.  I'm a pain in the ass at the best of times and
when I'm sick I'm twice as bad . . . . "

Scully did that smile again.  "You think I don't know
that, Mulder?"  She stroked my arm absently. "You need
somewhere to stay until you can take care of yourself."
She shrugged lightly. "I have space at my apartment . . .
and besides, you know I'd be worrying about you all the
time if you were on your own or stuck in some rehab
facility. So, you'd actually be doing me a favour. It would
just be until you're mobile." Her hand stilled on my arm
and she locked her gaze squarely on my face. "So, what do
you say?"

"Why Scully? Why are you doing this?"

"Because you're my friend. And because I care about you."

I felt an ache in my chest that had nothing to do with the
bruising to my ribs. "Have you got cable?"

"HBO."

"Really?"

She nodded, smugly.

"In that case, how can I refuse?"

A short, sharp nod of her head. "Good, then that's
settled."  She pulled at my bedcovers, straightening them
and smoothing down the sheet. "How's the pain?"

"As long as I don't move or laugh, or breathe too hard,
it's fine."  I let out a long yawn, a sudden overwhelming
lethargy falling over me.

Scully stood, ran her hand across my brow and said, "Why
don't you get some sleep? I'm going to go back to the motel
and freshen up, and check in with the Bureau. We're going
to have to let them know where we are."

"What are you going to say?"

"I'll tell them the truth. You fell and broke your ankle."

"But . . ."

"Something tells me that there won't be anything official
coming from the military. Whoever those soldiers were out
in the woods, I don't think they're going to be knocking
down doors to let anyone know about their activities out
there." She shrugged. "So, what the Bureau doesn't know,
won't hurt them."

"What about you? I don't know how long I'll be laid up
here. You can't stay in Townsend indefinitely."

"I have some vacation time owed to me. Now seems like as
good a time as any to take it." She grinned at me. "And
anyway, Blevins told me to take some time to consider my
options. I'm only doing what I was told."

I nodded slowly, and yawned again. I was having trouble
keeping my eyes open.

"Get some rest."  Scully patted my arm. "It'll be all
right, Mulder. You just need to concentrate on getting
better."  And then she leaned forward and cupped my cheek
with her palm. "I'll see you later."

Even through the heavy cloud of exhaustion, and long after
she'd left the room, I could still feel the heat on my skin
where Scully's hand had lingered against my cheek.

I let my eyes slide shut.  Morphine tugged me towards
oblivion.  I couldn't help thinking that despite our ordeal
over the past few days, and even though it looked as though
I'd be out of action for several weeks, we'd managed to get
out of this fairly lightly.

We got Max back and we made it out alive.

And then there was Scully. She'd stood by me the whole
time.  Blevins could try all the dirty tactics he liked,
but he couldn't take Scully from me. For the first time in
days I felt at ease.  And for the first time in days the
darkness pulling at me was peaceful and I could think of no
good reason to fight it. So I didn't.


The End.


Authors notes:  Thank you to everyone who has managed to
make it through to the end of this story. I would really
love to hear what you thought. Feedback is lovingly
treasured and always answered.  I'd just like to thank all
my beta readers - Vickie, Lisa, Ten, Mary and my medical
advisor, Sheila. Thank you so much.  Sally B.

rbahnsen@optusnet.com.au