By Pattie
trish59@444.net
 

Rated: NC-17 for graphic imagery and inappropriate
behavior.

Category: MSR, UST, X, SA, MA, MT.

Summary: Scully is called away on a family emergency
as a post-case depressed Mulder is sent to a doctor
and prescribed Prozac.
 

Spoilers: Season 6.

Archive: Gossamer.  Anyone else just ask and I will
probably answer "yes".

Feedback: trish59@444.net

Disclaimer: Mulder, Scully, any other X-Files original
characters and The X-Files belong to Chris Carter,
Ten Thirteen Productions, and Fox Studios. I have not
been reimbursed, favored, tipped, or treated in any
way, shape or form.  No copyright infringement is
planned, premeditated, concocted, invented, intended,
or whatever else the thesaurus says.  I just LOVE to
pay tribute and salute these fine characters.
 

~~~

Prozac Days and Wasted Knights
By Pattie
 

2360 HEGAL PLACE
ALEXANDRIA,VA
3:30 A.M.

Mulder anxiously paced his apartment in his shorts
and tee shirt in the darkness of his livingroom. Sure,
he was a constant insomniac, but tonight there was more
to his sleepnessness.  He and Scully had just
investigated one of the most depraved serial killers of
the decade, if not the century.  As he paced, the grizzly
images of human bodies piled into a cabin outside of
Raleigh still flashed through his mind in one long,
repetitive slide-show.

"It was my fault he killed as many people as he did,"
he had shouted to Scully, as they were driving to the
airport to fly home.  "Eleven victims, and six could
have been prevented if I had just followed my... "

"Mulder, there's no possible way you could have even
suspected Ron Holly, a Presbyterian Minister.  There
was nothing in his demeanor to indicate... "

"Scully, you have always said to go on solid evidence
and not "feelings" and "hunches". Well, I ignored the
hunches and the evidence pointed toward some teenage kid
who was a boyfriend of that minister's daughter. He was
victim number eight, as I was sketching my little profile
on my yellow pad in my motel room."

"You're being too hard on yourself, Mulder. You can't
be perfect.  None of us can. You need some sleep. I
know you didn't sleep the past three nights," she said
softly.  "Give yourself a break.  For all our sakes."

"We have a remarkable record, Scully.  We've solved
more cases like this than any of the other agents.
Let's just get home."

That was the end of the conversation. During the flight,
he didn't utter another word.  He went over his case
notes several times, and just convinced himself of what
he considered obvious: Fox Mulder had screwed up.

Scully knew better than to disturb him. She decided
perhaps he needed some quiet time, and that's what he
was going to have.

Once back home, Mulder and Scully headed straight for
their respective apartments. Mulder was just in the
door when the phone rang.

"Mulder."

"Mulder, it's me.  I just got a message that Mom broke
her leg.  Skinner says I can use the two weeks I have
coming in vacaton time, and Mom needs me.  Mulder?"

"Yeah. Take care of your mother, Scully. At least
it'll get YOUR mind off of this damn mess."

"Mulder, it's not a mess. We still caught the perp and
it's finished.  I faxed my report to the office, and
I'm on my way out.  Now, get some sleep and take a few
days off. Okay?"

"Yeah.  Sure.  Better get going, Scully. Say "Hi" for
me."

"I will. Bye." Scully wasn't sure her partner was
going to be able to put the case out of his thoughts,
but she reluctantly hung up and packed her bags.

                          ***

But Mulder didn't take the time to recoup his sleep or
energy. The constant barrage of images in photos and
at the cabin haunted his days and nights. This night
was about the worst he had had in a long time.

It was 4:32 a.m. when he decided to take a run. "Maybe
that will clear my mind," he reasoned. However, even
the "runner's high" from pushing his body to the limit
was not enough to chase the ghosts away.

FBI HEADQUARTERS,
WSHINGTON, D.C.
8:30 A.M.

Although he had showered and shaved, he looked absolutely
enhausted. The tell-tale dark circles around his eyes,
and his blood-shot eyeballs were hidden behind sunglasses
when he entered the office.  After he removed them and
hung his jacket on the rack, he retrieved several faxes
from the machine, and took Scully's report straight
to the desk. Was he going to read it, or not? He knew
better.  He really did. He ignored another hunch. A hunch
that this was not going to make his day any more bearable.
He'd almost forgotten just what a bearable day was, since
about six days ago, and he sat there reliving every
call they'd received at the motel, every crime scene, and
every image of macerated, mutilated, amputated and even
ground, yes, ground like hamburger, organ tissue. A man of
the cloth invested in such evil had reduced Mulder's
self-esteem to even lower levels.

He was absolutely convinced he had no business smiling,
resting, tasting, enjoying comfort.  After several hours
of gorging on the horrible incidents over and over, he
stood and trashed the office.  File cabinets were emptied,
pictures torn off of the walls, even the paper shredder
suffered the wrath of Mulder. He threw the last of his
cold morning coffee across the room and watched it splatter
onto the window sill.  Then, he threw a paperweight through
the window.

A maintenance man who had been passing the office looked in
on him during his wild frenzy, and gently closed the door
and caled Skinner and security.

Mulder had sunken into his chair in a daze by the time
Skinner and two other men reached the office.  Skinner
noticed that Mulder had not stirred when they arrived, so
he motioned for security to leave.

"Agent Mulder? Are you going to answer me?  Mulder?" The
man wasn't sure what to say or do next.  Still, he
approached Mulder cautiously and took a seat in front of
the desk. "Scully called me this morning.  She was quite
concerned about you. This case.  Tell me what I can do."

"Do," Mulder repeated. His faze was fixed at some point on
the wall across from his desk. "Do."

"Look, I'm down here as a friend, not just your superior.
At first, I thought Scully was just being overly protective,
but now I know there's something wrong."

"Wrong." Mulder's voice was hoarse and low. "Everything was
wrong."

"You got him, Mulder. He'll never see the light of day
again.  That's what you and Scully did. It's over and done
with."

"Really." There was that glazed stare and monotone voice
that lacked sincerity.

Skinner's cell phone broke the silence between the men.
"Shinner. Yes. Okay, I think it would be a good time. We
can do that. Right."

"Who was that?  Scully and her Pollyanna *everything's
gonna be all right* pep talk?" From silence to sarcasm. At
any other time that would have been a sign Mulder was all
right.  But this time, it wasn't.

"No.  Just someone arranging a meeting with me. Look, to
be honest, I'm very worried about you.  You show all the
signs of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder."

He stood and towered over Skinner. "PTSD my ass!" Mulder
yelled wildly, as he pounded his deak.  "You don't know
anything about what happened out there! You don't know
what I saw and you're just here to make everything worse.
So, you can just go right back upstairs and... "

At that moment, two EMS paramedics arrived with a gurney,
and quickly strapped Mulder down. One of them had
pre-filled a syinge, and quickly sedated Mulder. "It's
just to relax him till we get to the hospital, Mr.
Skinner. Is there anyone who can fill out the forms,
speak on his behalf?"

"Yes," Skinner answered quietly. "I'll go with you."

GEORGETOWN UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL
7:30 PM

Skinner didn't want to have Scully worrying over her
partner as well as her mother, so he decided not to call
her until Mulder had settled down and a proper treatment
plan was decided upon. Besides, he could tell by having
read the report he had taken from Mulder's desk, that
she needed some time with her mother, away from work. It
wasn't that he thought she wouldn't be able to handle
news of her partner's condition. She was just best left
to heal her own wounds and needed the break.

It was well after the supper hour when a doctor emerged
from Mulder's cubicle.  "Mr. Skinner? I'm Dr. Ogilvey.
I'm a psychiatrist." Oglivey was very tall compared to
Skinner.  He appeared to be about 55, and had salt and
pepper hair.  There was a youthfullness in his stance and
disposition, which told Skinner he was an optimist.

Skinner stood and the men shook hands. "Yes.  How is
Agent Mulder?"

"He's resting comfortably right now. We want to keep him
overnight for observation. I thought I would sedate him
enough to give him some sleep. You told us earlier his
partner was concerned he hadn't slept in at least three
days? That he was obsessed with a rather gruesome serial
murderer and his arrest?"

"Yes.  Frankly, as I understand it, severe sleep loss can
have some strange effects on people."

"You're right, Sir.  People who haven't slept at all for
even a few nights tend to have hallucinations, feelings of
unreality, heightened anxiety and may become estremely
agitated.  With some rest, and perhaps therapy in his
case, he can return to his regular self. I know he was
exposed to a very traumatic investigation. Tomorrow,
staff will assess his conditon further.  I suggest you go
home and come back in the morning.  You'll be called if
anything happens."

Shinner wasn't exactly convinced nothing would happen, but
her nodded. "All right. I've left my home and office
numbers with the front desk. Does he need anything from
home?"

"No. We'd prefer he didn't have anything that... "

"I understand, Doctor.  I'll be at home all night."
 

GEORGETOWN UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL
10:00 A.M.

When Skinner returned the next morning, he was told Mulder
had been transferred to the psychiatric ward. Sure, it had
often been the subject of jokes around the halls at the
FBI, but people knew that Mulder was solidly sane when it
came to doing the job.

Skinner pressed the buzzer outside the ward.

"Yes?" A nurse asked via speaker.

"Walter Skinner to see Fox Mulder. I brought him to
Emergency yesterday."

"Thank you."

The doors were electronically unlocked, and as he entered,
he saw a woman talking to a wall, two visitors chatting in
a common room, and a very thin young woman trying her best
to smile for her sister, who knew the girl was not eating.
He passed a schizophrenic swatting at something imaginary,
and wondered how anyone could visit here without feeling
the world had turned upside down.  After all, Mulder was
here. He reached room 427, and walked in.

Mulder was awake.  Calm but sombre.

"Mulder?"

"Yeah, that's me." There was a lack of liveliness that
stunned Skinner. "Sit down.  Watch the world go by in all
it's darkness."

"Mulder, do you remember anything about yesterday?"

"Most. Up until I did a tap dance on the Holly case.  Some
case."

"Yes, you and Scully did a fine job nabbing him."

"A fine mess," Mulder whispered. "Where was I when victims
six through eleven went through the meat grinder, huh? I
was going by the book, writing up my little thumbnail sketch
of who would do such a thing. I'm *Spooky Mulder*, not *By
The Book Mulder*. Well, Walter! Wanna kick my ass? Go
ahead."

"No, I don't want to do that. Have you been seen by the
doctor, yet?"

"Yeah.  He said I'd be a great story teller. I mean, my
expressiveness is just awe inspiring."
 

"Mulder, cut the sarcastic crap. At times that's the real
you, but this time you are having problems. We all want to
help you. You have to let us do that."

"Yeah, I'll bet. The Tin Man, The Scarecrow and Dorothy,
too. So, is the red-head still at her mother's?"

"She doesn't know about this."

"Good. Keep it that way." Mulder turned away from Skinner.

Dr. Ogilvey walked in with Mulder's chart. "Good morning,
Mr. Mulder. I see you finally had a good sleep."

"Yeah. Just like a fuzzy little baby kitten: All curled up
and harmless."

"Could you please turn around so I can see you?"

Mulder moved his head back. "Okay. So, when do I get to
go home?"

"Well, it says here you didn't eat breakfast."

"Wasn't hungry."

"You seem almost expressionless, Mr. Mulder. I know you've
been through hell.  You were talking in your sleep last
night.  Those must have been some really violent
nightmares."

"Well, there ya go.  I'm back to my old self, Doc. So,
spring me outta here and I'll just get back... "

"Hold on now, Mr. Mulder.  We want to keep you here one more
day.  I have someone who specializes in PTSD, and I think you
should see him. Before you pooh-pooh the idea, consider your
friend here and the person you were calling out for all
night."

Mulder closed his eyes. "Just... don't call her right now.
She has enough on her mind. If I stay here and talk to your
colleague, then can I go home tomorrow?"

"We'll make that decision tomorrow. Mr. Skinner. I'd like
to speak with you a minute."

The doctor led Skinner out of the room. "I realize most of
the files he has on this particular case are confidential,
but can you at least give me a rough idea of what we're up
against here?"

Skinner didn't really know what to say. He had not been able
to finish reading the case reports, and only knew of one
person who could fill in the blanks. "Doctor Ogilvey, I
can't release the case file to you, but I can put you in
touch with his partner, Dana Scully. She's also a doctor."

"Well, if he was calling out for her, maybe she can help
him," Ogilvey suggested.

"She's been through hell these past few weeks, too.  She is
taking a couple of weeks off, and attending to a family
matter. Look, just don't tell her what's been happening
in living color.  She needs this time away. I can't have
two agents breaking down on me."

"I'm a professional, Mr. Skinner. I think I can word things
in such a way as to find out what is going on, and then
assure her that it's... all right to be out of town."

Skinner pulled out a writing pad, pen, and a piece of paper
whick had Scully's mother's number written on it. "This is
the number where you can reach her. Please just ask for the
facts and I can only hope she doesn't run right back. That's
for both their sakes. Understand?"

"I do. Believe me, I've been there, only in a different
setting.  We're going to keep your friend on sedatives in
the meantime.  He needs as much rest as he can get. We're
monitoring him closely.  He's on Q-15."

"What?"

"Every fifteen minutes, a nurse checks in on him. So far,
there's been no problem. Don't worry. I think he's actually
faring better than last night."

"All right. I'll be by later in the day. You have my private
line. I'd better get to work. Thanks for everything, Doctor
Ogilvey."

"My job." The doctor's beeper went off, and Skinner asked
the nurse to let him out of the ward.

                                ***

HOME OF MARGARET SCULLY
11:45 A.M.

Scully was still thinking about Mulder and the guilt he
had been feeling over the case in Raleigh, as she leafed
through an old photo album of her father's.  The picture of
a seven-year-old Bill Scully bore a remarkable resemblance
to Bill Jr. at that age. She smiled warmly. Fond memories
of her father's stories of his childhood coursed through
her mind, as she wiped a tear from her eye. "Miss you,
Ahab. I can't believe it's been six years. " Then, her
thoughts returned to her other Ahab. "Mulder," she whispered.
"I hope you got some sleep." She closed the album and headed
downstairs to the livingroom. To her surprise, Tara and
little Matthew had arrived and were sitting with Margaret
Scully.

"Tara! It's so god to see you.  You look great!"

"Well, what's been happening, Dana? Your mother was just
telling me you took two weeks off to help!"

"I needed some time away from work anyway, and when they
called about her leg, I thought I'd come down and spend
some time here.  Is Bill back?"

"He's still somewhere in the Pacific," Margaret replied.
"I'm always glad to see my two favorite girls and my handsome
grandson."

"Well, I guess I'll make us some lunch, then. It's almost
noon. Maybe Matthew would like to help Auntie Dana?"

"May I Mom?"

"Sure, honey.  But don't eat anything until she's done.
Okay?"

"I know, Mom."

As Scully took her nephew by the hand into the kitchen,
Tara's smile faded. "Mom?  What's wrong? Dana doesn't seem
herself."

"Tara, there are some things she sees in her line of work
which are just... well, even worse than gets out on the
news. I think she's more worried about Fox than she is about
whatever they were investigating."

"She's very fond of Fox. We all know that. I'm sure he's
all right."

"Well, I'm not. She came out here to look after me. Don't
get me wrong, I love seeing my baby.  But I can still do
a lot of things with one good leg. It's just a hairline
fracture.  I think I'll have a little talk with her after
lunch. I'm pretty sure she should be at her apartment. I
know she needs to do a lot whenever she is there."

"Maybe she doen't want to see Fox suffering what she's
going through. Has she said anything?"

"Only a little about a horrible serial killer, some of the
things he did. She was tossing and turning last night. I
had to get up to take a pain pill. Come to think of it, I
bet she didn't sleep at all."

"Well," Tara said quietly, "We'll be here a few days. Maybe
she should rest after lunch."

Margaret thought for a minute.  "Maybe she should go home
tonight.  If she can get some rest, she can leave after
dinner. I just have this feeling... " Margaret Scully
sensed that her daughter was very strong, and that her
partner needed her. She was certain her daughter had
concerns about Fox Mulder.

It was about three in the afternoon when the phone rang
at Margaret Scully's home. "Scully residence."

"May I speak with Dana Scully?" It was Doctor Ogilvey.

"She's sleeping right now, Doctor. I won't wake her up
for anyone right now.  I will take a message." So stern, so
insistent.

"I'm calling regarding a recent case she was investigating.
Would you please tell her I need some information."

"Yes, I'll do that.  You're at which hospital?"

"Georgetown University."

"All right.  As soon as she wakes up, I'll ask her to
call you." Margaret turned to Tara as she hung up the
phone. "I think Dana needs to leave tonight. My instincts
were right. Fox isn't well. I just have this nagging
feeling she should be there."

                               ***

GEORGETOWN UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL,
4:30 P.M.

Mulder's session with the Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder
specialist was rocky at best, and that was to be expected.
Dr. Ogilvey spoke to the specialist in a meeting at about
3:30.

Velding was approaching 40, brunette and blue eyed. He
met up with Dr. Ogilvey at the Mursing Station.

"Doctor Velding, what's your impression on Mr. Mulder?"

"Well, I think he has a lot of survivor guilt. He also
shows classic signs of depression.  I'd prescribe Prozac,
to be increased next week, and he would benefit from a
few counselling sessions here or at the FBI Employee
Services Office. If he has a good night, I think we can
release him tomorrow. This guy has more problems than
that TV guy they write about at Rogue Agent's Sanctuary."

"Okay, I don't care what you do in your spare time. Frank.
I have a call in to his partner. Apparently the case was
hard on her as well. She should be calling back later. I
want to hear from her before I decide what to do."

Skinner arrived that evening to check on Mulder. While
he seemed more at ease, he still appeared bewildered
and uninterested in anything. "I hear you night be
released tomorrow. That's good news, Mulder."

"Yeah.  I feel better sleeping on my couch anyway. I
hope Scully's doing better than I am."

"I haven't heard from her, Mulder. This is her chance to
recover from what the two of you went through out there.
If she calls, can I tell her... "

"No.  Don't get her back here for me.  I've taken her way
down the road with nothing but futile attempts at making
life safe for the American public. Maybe she'll see the
light and resign. I sure as hell wouldn't stop her."

                            ***

HOME OF MARGARET SCULLY
11:00 P.M.

Scully slept from 2:00 in the afternoon and didn't awaken
until 11:00 that night. Since her mother didn't want to
disturb her clearly exhausted daughter, there was a note
left on her pillow.

"Dana, dear. A doctor Ogilvey at Georgetown U Hospital
called. He wanted to speak with you about your last case.
I didn't want to wake you."

"Mulder!" Scully gasped. As she gathered her belongings
and began to pack, her mother walked past her room. When
she noticed the light on, she opened the door.

"Dana? I was just about to... well, I thought yoe were going
to sleep the night, so I was going to nake sure you weren't
hungry, or having a rough time like last night."

"No, Mom. I got your message.  I think I should go back
to D.C. That was a long sleep I had, and I can't go back to
sleep knowing Mulder's in trouble.  That's the only reason
I can think a doctor there would want to talk to me about
the case in Raleigh."

"Honey, I was going to suggest you leave tonight if you
were up, anyway.  A mother knows. Tara's here for three
weeks. We'll be fine. Do you want anything before I go
to bed."

"I'll be fine, Mom. I'll grab something on the way home."
Scully kissed her mother. "Good night, Mom."

"Good night, dear. Drive safely."

As her mother closed the bedroon door, Scully was more
determined than ever to find out how her partner was feeling.
She tried to call his apartment, but there was no answer.
His answering nachine tape had been filled. Now, she knew
where her partner was, and she needed to be there.
 

~~~
 

2360 HEGAL PLACE
ALEXANDRIA,VA
1:15 AM

Scully hadn't bothered to go home just yet. She wanted
to check Mulder's place to see if he had arrived home.
Using her key to the apartment, she went into his home
hoping he would be there. The place was dark, and his travel
bag still on the floor beside the couch.

The light on his fish tank was on, and she reasoned they may
not have been fed. He shook some food into the tank, then
went to his desk. It was dusty, but there were no new pieces
of mail or his case notes. This was definitely not a god
sign, and not really a surprise to her, considering the
condition he was in when they had last spoken.

She called Skinner on her cell phone.

He woke, looked at the clock and rubbed his eyes. "Skinner."

"I'm sorry to disturb you so late, Sir. Where's Mulder? A
doctor at Georgetown U has been trying to contact me, and I
think for some reason Mulder's involved."

"Yes.  Look, he's stabilized right now, and being carefully
watched.  I told Doctor Ogilvey he should not call you unless
it was completely necessary.  By the way, I still think you
should take the vacation days."

"I'm at Mulder's right now.  My mother has Bill's wife
around and I think I should be here."

"Look, it's been a very hard couple of days. Do you have
Ogilvey's number?"

"Yes.  I plan to call him as soon as I finish this call.
Did you read the reports?"

"Yes.  I think under the circumstances... Look, I'll be
seeing Agent Mulder tomorrow.  He may be released some time
later. Why don't you get some sleep and I'll talk to you
then."

"All right,  Good night, Sir." Scully had no intention of
going home. "Next stop, Georgetown U."

GEROGETOWN UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL
3:01 A.M.

Scully went straight to the Emergency Room and inquired
as to Mulder's condition and whereabouts. "Omigod, what
happened to you, Mulder," was all she could think as she
pushed the button for the elevator.

She identified herself to the nurse on the psychiatric
ward as Dr. Scully and an FBI agent, and was allowed
access, but not without first reading his chart. "I'm
his personal physician," he told the charge nurse, a
middle-aged petite woman, with a kindly face. Maybe she
was someone's grandmother, Scully supposed. "I know Agent
Mulder better than anyone, and I'd like to look in on
him."

"Sure.  One thing, though.  We have strict orders to see
that he has an undisturbed night. We're not to wake him.
But, it wouldn't hurt to see you when he wakes up. Last
night he was terribly restless, tossed and turned, and
called for you a few times. He had some dandy nightmares."

"I'll just watch. Let me know when Doctor Ogilvey gets
here. Maybe I can offer some information he doesn't have."

"We will. He had a much better day than when he first came
in."

"Well, I'm a bit relieved now. Which room is he in?"

"427."

"Thank you." Scully quietly made her way to the room, and
drew a chair to his bedside. She removed her coat, and
sat, watching Mulder's face, and remembered the grizzly
finds in the cabin where Ron Holly had stored his victims
outside of Raleigh. "Mulder," she whispered. "I shouldn't
have gone. What can I do to help you?" She took his hand
in hers, and held it for a few minutes, being careful not
to disturb his slumber.

8:00 A.M.

Scully had managed to fall asleep just before sunrise, so
she hadn't expected to be awakened by a nurse carrying
Mulder's breakfast tray.  "Agent Scully?"

"Umm. Yes.  I'm Agent Scully."

The nurse put the tray on Mulder's table. "Night staff said
you were here. Looks like someone's still asleep."

That someone began to stir.  He opened his eyes and saw
Scully, tears glistening on her face like glassy waterfalls.
"Scully, no."

"Yes, Mulder. Don't give me any of that *No* crap. "Why
didn't you talk to me?" Her face showed both sadness and
anger.

"You couldn't do anything, Scully." That disturbing
monotone was in his voice again.  Scully had once been
used to it, but now, it seemed a regression to the first
days of thier partnership."

The nurse interrupted as she could see an impending
argument. "Agent Mulder, breakfast.  Doctor Scully, Doctor
Ogilvey is on the ward. He'd very much like to see you."

"Thank you.  I'll be right out."

"Your Mom... "

"Tara's with her. I'm more concerned about you."

The nurse gently toucked Scully's arm. "Please, let's
allow him to eat.  The Doctor's waiting in his office."

"All right."  Scully rose, grabbing her coat. "I'll be
back Mulder."

"I wouldn't, if I were you.  I'm not so great to be around
right now."

The nurse raised Mulder's back and pulled the table
over his bed. "Scrambled eggs. You're in luck. I'll be
in with your meds in about a half-hour."

Mulder wasn't hungry.  He was crestfallen that Scully had
to come back to see him in this condition. He felt guilty
enough without dragging her into his miserable existence.
 

                             ***

"So, what you're saying is this has been coming for a long
time. That this depression was beneath the surface, and
the Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder contributed to it."

"Well, that and the last case you were working on. I know it
was very horrible, I know that he feel's a sense of survivor
guilt because you were both working on the case while several
people were murdered and mutilated. It must have been very
hard on you, as well."

Scully hung her head.  "Yes. It was. But I have been able to
handle it.  Mulder has a tendancy to become so absorbed in
a lot of our cases. He tried to put himself in the shoes of
the victims and the perpetrators.  Often, he becomes lost
to the whole concept of the illness, maybe evil, that people
represent."

"Then he's a workaholic as well."

"I'm afraid so.  Dr. Ogilvey, you're going to send him home
with Prozac, from what I understand. Can you tell me why?"

"Well, the underlying depression needs to be addressed.
Don't get me wrong, I don't want him becoming a pill-popper.
He will need some therapy as well."

"I would have thought he'd confide in me by now," Scully
said disappointedly. "He knows he can trust me. I've trusted
him when things have gone wrong."

"My guess is he's very fond of you.  He wants to protect you.
I have a couple of other people to see this morning. It was
nice to see you, Doctor Scully."

"Well, thank you. I want to see him again before I speak
with the Assistant Director, Mr. Skinner."

"Then he has two very good friends."  The doctor smiled, as
he and Scully left the office and went their separate ways.

FBI HEADQUARTERS,
WASHINGTON, D.C.
1:32 P.M.

Skinner's assistant was away from her desk, so Scully knocked
inner office door. "Come in."

"I'm sorry, I'm late, Sir.  I had to go home for a change of
clothes." She took a seat. "So, I understand you were in to
see Mulder this morning, too?"

"Yes.  Agent Scully, how long do you think he's been
depressed?"

"I don't know, Sir.  It may go back to his father's death,
and at that point in his search, he was getting close to a
lot of things someone was trying very carefully to keep from
him. I guess that's always been in the back of his mind.
He looked much better this morning than when I went in last
night."

"Yes.  I saw him an hour ago, Agent Scully." Skinner stood
and paced. "From what I understand, this was one of the
most disgusting cases both of you have ever seen."

"It was the worst, Sir. People eviscerated, dismembered,
mutilated... "

"I... get the idea, Agent Scully. He'll need some therapy,
but in the meantime, he needs some support. Since his
mother can't seem to play that role right now, it's up to
us to seeto it that he has someone he can count on."

"Sir, he can always count on me.  Now, in your position, I
think you should maintain a distance. He'll be back to work
when he gets this out of his system. Two or three weeks from
now, the Prozac will begin to take full effect, and in that
time, he will have had a few sessions with the therapist to
whom he's being referred."

"Well, then. I expect a call later this afternoon. I think
you could drive him home, see to it that he gets his
prescription filled. I have a conference at three, so I
won't keep you any longer."

"I'll be downstairs, Sir.  I think the office could use
some cleaning up."

"You have two weeks off, Scully. Use them. The Raleigh
case was just as hard on you."

"I'd rather pick up the pieces of that case, before they
repair that window," Scully stood. "Call me down there."

"I will. And Scully?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"Try not to read that... garbage."

"Yes, Sir."

                               ***

GOERGETOWN UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL
5:00 P.M.

Assistant Director Walkter Skinner had received a message
at 3:15 that Agent Mulder was being discharged from the
psychiatric ward with a prescription for Prozac. Scully
arrived with some fresh clothing for her partner, and
accompanied him to the pharmacy in his neighborhood.
Mulder seemed rather hesitant to leave the car.

"Mulder.  You have to come with me. The pharmacist has
to explain this drug to you in person.

Mulser just stared at the windshield."Scully, I don't want
to see anyone. Just go get it over with."

"No, Mulder. I want you to come with me. Now let's go."

"All right. Much as I'd like not to... "

"I'm sure you'll feel differently in a few days." Scully
held Mulder's arm. "It's okay, really."

The pharmacist took the prescription from Scully. "It'll
only take a few minutes. Please, have a seat."

They sat in the waiting area, and there was an uncomfortable
silence between them. Mulder felt the shame of Scully's
knowledge that he was not strong as ever, Scully thought
it best she let him relax, and she felt a bit powerless.

While the pharmacist was pouring out the capsules and
counting them, his assistant informed him there was an
urgent call. Another pharmacist's assistant took care of
Mulder's order."

"Well, he's new," Mulder remarked. "I guess that last one
quit."

When the pharmacist was through with his caller, he handed
a bag containing the vial and instructions over to Mulder.
"Now, no alcohol while on Prozac. Take one capsule at
bedtime for four days, then increase to two every night.
If you have any side effects that the printout says are
severe, call us or your doctor immediately."

"Yeah. Jack, isn't this an SSRI?"

"Yes. It's a relatively new class of drugs. It has a
more specific effect than the other classes of mood
elevating medications."

"I see. Well, I guess I'll let you know.  See ya."

"Okay, Mr. Mulder.  Remember, call if you have any
problems.  Read the print out, please."

"We will. Mulder, dinner at your place. My treat. Let's
go."

They walked quickly to the exit. "Go home, Scully.  Just
drop me off, and go home."

"No, I think I need a little company," Scully said as they
reached the car. "Anyhow, I think you'll like the movie
I bought when I went to get your clothes."

Mulder took the passenger side seat. "I doubt *Steel
Magnolias* will help me, Scully."

She started the car. "Well, maybe *Mars Attacks* will
interest you."

"Maybe."

"Then let's go. After the movie, you can take your meds and
get to sleep."

"Fun. Wow."

"I understand, Mulder. I do." As she pulled the car out of
the parking lot, she wondered just how long Mulder was going
to seem numb. "It'll be good for you to get home. You'll see."

"Okay. Fine. Dinner, the movie, and then you go home. I'll
be fine."

When they reached a red light, she turned to him. "Mulder,
look at me. You need someone there. Now, whether you like
it or not, I am your doctor, and you need someone to be
there for you. No more. Do you hear me?"

"Yeah. Look, I know what you're trying to do, and I
appreciate it.  I just think you'd be better off in your own
place."

The light turned green and they were moving again. "Been
there, watered my plants, and re-stocked my overnight bag.
So, Chinese or pizza?"

"I can't decide. I think the tranquillizers they gave me
are still in my system."

"Well, I don't doubt that. You needed a high dose that
night. We'll get you through this, Mulder."
 

2360 HEGAL PLACE
ALEXANDRIA,VA
7:30 P.M.

Mulder hadn't eaten much of the Chinese food Scully had
ordered, but at least he had eaten something. He stood
beside the fish tank after he fed the and said he'd lost
another molly. "So much for responsible pet ownership, huh
Scully?"

"Mulder, sit down and relax. I'll pop the movie in and
we can watch it.  I also want to run that laundry of yours
downstairs."

"Oh, don't do that. My neighbors like to come out before
bedtime. It's their last chance to be out before there's
a shooting or stabbing. They seem to know my schedule."

"Mulder, will you listen to yourself?  There hasn't been
anything like that here for a year. Now, here's the
remote.  Start the movie and I'll get your clothes into the
washer before they run there."

9:30 P.M.

Scully had put away the left-over Chinese food and Mulder's
laundry, while he watched *Mars Attacks*.  She had been
doing some research on Mulder's computer, and checking her
e-mail, when she noticed Mulder had fallen asleep. The movie
was over.

She went to the kirchen and returned with a glass of water
and Mulder's medication. "Hey, time to take your meds."

"Scully.  You're still here?"

"Yes, Mulder.  Take your medication. Then you can go back to
sleep."

He relctantly swallowed the capsule and washed it down with
water. "Night, Scully." He immediately fell back to sleep.
Scully grabbed a blankey and covered him up. She read
the information on Prozac, then decided to sleep in the chair
in the livingroom.

Mulder and Scully went through thois routine the next day.
Mulder seemed much calmer, and Scully wrote some of her
report on his computer, sending it to their office via e-mail.

The third night Mulder had taken his Prozac at 10:00 P.M.
and felt no need to sleep. In fact, he was more than wide
awake.  Scully had gone to a nearby corner store for some
groceries, and returned to find Mulder bouncing a basketball
off of a wall.

"Mulder, what the hell are you doing? It's past ten!"

"Thought I'd get a little exercise, Scully.  Lighten up!"
He was smiling. Prozac wasn't supposed to work that quickly.
"So, what did you buy? Liver pate? Tongue? Maybe some rump
roast? Brains? Bet it cost you an arm and a leg for the
ground beef!" He broke out into a fit of laughter. "Get it?
I mean, you could have made it a day trip to Raleigh! I know a
little shack..."

"Mulder! Stop it! What's going on with you?"

"Hell, I'm just having the time of my life!" He thought
everything was hilarious. "Smile, Sweetie! I took my Prozac
while you were out, and I feel fantastic! Just one capsule
and I am great!"

"I'm calling an ambulance. This is insame."

When the paramedic arriced, Scully stopped one who was
filling a syringe.

"Don't give him anything until we find out what's going
on," she oredered. "I'm going to have these analyzed."
She grabbed the vial and her coat.

Once more, Mulder needed to be restrained, and once more
he was off to the ER.

GEORGETOWN UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL
7:51 P.M.

Mulder was wheeled into an a psychiatric observation room,
and a doctor checked his pupils and reflexes. "We're a
little high, aren't we?" The blonde doctor charted her
findings.

"I'd say more than a little," Scully grumbled. "He was
precribed Prozac. Look, Dr. Ogilvey is the doctor he
was assigned to a few days ago."

"We've had him paged," the doctor replied. "This man just
started Prozac?"

"Yes. I have something to attend to, and a call to make.
The front desk has a munber where you can reach me."

"Bye hon."

"Save it, Mulder."

Scully called Skinner to notify him of Mulder's condition,
and decided to make use of the lab at The Hoover Building.
To do that, she enlisted the help of one of the agents
assigned to the lab.

FBI HEADQUATERTERS
WASHINGTON, D.C.
9:04 P.M.

"Well, we've opened up every capsule, Agent Scully. Out of
the sixteen we had here, nine of them were not filled with
Prozac."

"What were they filled with?"

"Cocaine. I'd say Agent Mulder's pharmacy needs an inspection."

Scully's phone chirped. "Scully."

It was Dr. Ogilvey. "We ran some bloodwork, and Agent Mulder
had some rather interesting results... "

"Cocaine, I know. I had his capsules analyzed."

"We'll have to just let his system eliminate it."

"How long will that take?"

"Overnight, maybe into tomorrow.  I don't believe he's used
to cocaine. Sometime tomorrow, we should see some improvement."

"Thank you."  Scully ended the call and her thoughts drifted
back to the pharmacy.  She remembered Mulder's words. *He's
new.*  "Agent, thanks for coming out this late."

"No problem, Agent Scully.  He's one of us."

Scully made her way to the elevator, and called the operator.
"I need a home number for Luigi Accetti.  He's a pharmacist
in Alexandria, Virginia.  Great, thanks." She then called the
pharmacist as she entered the elevator.

GEORGETOWN UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL
11:00 P.M.

Skinner had been waiting at the hospital for over an hour
when Scully returned to the ward.

"Thanks for coming, Sir. Is there any word on Mulder?"

"Only what they told you over the phone. He's been put
into a padded room.  Any idea how he got a hold of coke?"

"Yes. It was planted in his prescribed medication. I had
the lab analyze the capsules. Apparently, someone knew
which pharmacy Mulder frequents, and a very short-term
employee had time and opportunity to tamper with his meds."

"Did you call the Washington PD?"

"Sir, the man gave a false name, false references, false
Social Security Number.  I believe he's just another part
of a group of a nameless, above-the-law element of society
that have been thwarting our efforts for several years."

48 HOURS LATER

Mulder was well enough to receive visitors.

Scully brought him wildflowers, and arranged them in a vase.
"You were lucky, Mulder. You may have a long way to go, but
you're alive. They're releasing you this afternoon."

"Yeah, how about that.  Look, Scully... I don't know how to
say this exactly. I wanted to protect you from all that went
on in Raleigh, and I failed.  Some knight in shining armor.
I couldn't protect myself."

"That's where you're wrong.  You wouldn't be human if you
weren't affected by what we saw. God knows, I was affected by
it. You should have told me sooner, and maybe this drug
tampering wouldn't have happened. I trust you, Mulder.  Why
can't you trust me to help you?"

"I didn't want to make you suffer any more than you had. I
felt like such a waste as an Agent and a person."

"Then you don't really know just how strong you are. Or, for
that matter, how strong I am. We have a few more days off, and
I suggest you use the time to take a break, see your therapist,
and just hang out."

"What are you going to be doing? Writing up more drug
monograms?

"No.  I need a break.  Maybe I can hang out with you. If that's
okay... "

"It's okay." Mulder smiled. "I'm going to be eating a lot of
fruits and vegetables for a long time."
 
 

                                 END