By Mary Kleinsmith
Buc252@adelphia.net
 
 

Category:   Missing Scene, Sort of AU, and the

slightest hint of MSR

Rating:  Should be okay for anybody over 10 (Happy

now, MPAA?)

Spoilers:  Theef

Archive: Eph, Gossamer, MIJ, and ATF, naturally.  Anybody

else is welcome, just let me know so I can visit.

Summary:  What if it had been Mulder who'd been

blinded in that last scene instead of Scully?

Acknowledgments:  Thank you to Laura and Obfusc8ter

for the wonderful and quick betas.

Author's Notes:  Written for After_The_Fact's Theef

Challenge.  Sorry it took so long to finish, but I

did my best. <g>  Alternating POV.

Feedback:  It would be treasured and appreciated
 
 
 
 

Robbed

By Mary Kleinsmith (Buc252@adelphia.net)
 
 

He had them right where he wanted them, and now the

so-called medical man would pay, Peattie thought.

A more educated man might have quoted the passage

about revenge being a dish best served cold, but Oral

Peattie's education was centered more on folk cures

and spells than on literature and grammar.  It suited

him, though, and at one time, it had suited his

daughter Lynnette as well.  But that time was long

in the past.
 
 

Now, he'd nearly finished what he came to the city to

accomplish.  The father-in-law and the wife were

dead.  The daughter would be next, followed by her

father, the man who, in Peattie's eyes, was to blame

for it all.  The two of them were hiding inside the

cabin he watched from nearby, along with the FBI

woman who he knew had been pursuing him.  At least

she was alone ˆ her meddlesome partner was nowhere to

be seen.
 
 

But he was prepared for them both, nonetheless.  His

thin-boned hand clenched around the poppets in his

fist, two for the remaining Wieders and two for the

federal agents who were trying to keep him from

having his revenge.  It had been easy enough.  The

red-haired woman's car had held a photo of herself

and, buried deeper, one of her partner.  Brown hair

on the passenger seat's headrest and red on the

driver's.  It was all he needed.
 
 

The shrubbery provided an adequate hiding place,

letting the three inside get comfortable.  Nobody

could see him in his hiding place, and wouldn't until

he wanted them to.  Then, he'd make a noise . . .

draw the woman out . . . and he'd be free to sneak in

and finish what he'd started:  The dissolution of the

Wieder family.
 
 

XxXxXxXxXxXxX
 
 

Peattie was on to her.  Mulder's words rang in his

own ears, reminding him of Scully's desperate

position.  She didn't believe the supernatural things

of which Peattie was capable, but he knew.  He

believed.  Two dead members of the Wieder family were

more than enough proof for him.
 
 

He pulled up behind Scully's car, his eyes alert for

any movement not coming from within, but all that

greeted him was the darkness of night.  No stars or

moon even shone in the sky, leaving a blackness so

solid he could only see the lights where they beamed

from the cabin windows.  He momentarily longed for

that light, that comfort.  The feel of Scully's arms

about him lending safety as nothing else.
 
 

So dark was it that he almost missed the damage to

Scully's car.  However, he stopped abruptly when he

drew abreast.  There was no mistaking the shards of

glass, which were the only remains of her passenger

window.  Was he too late?
 
 

Pulling a small flashlight from his pocket, he shone

it at the interior, where the glove compartment gaped

open.  Scully would never have left it like that, he

thought, the fear strong in his throat.  He was sure

now that Peattie had gotten here before him, but was

the house quiet because the Appalachian man had

already gotten to his next victims, or because he

hadn't gotten into the house yet at all?
 
 

There was only one way to find out.
 
 

Hoping to God that the way was without obstacles, he

began to race towards the cabin.  With every step,

his concern grew, his hearing trying to overcome the

pounding of the blood in his ears.  He couldn't see

anything either, but he squinted all the same.
 
 

He hadn't covered half the distance when a sharp pain

lanced through both his eyes, nearly sending him to

his knees.  He rubbed them hard, the pain eased a

bit, and he blinked as it improved even more.  In the

near-fall, he'd gotten turned around, and he searched

in the darkness for the windows that would lead him

back to the cabin.  Spinning three hundred sixty

degrees, he could no longer see them.
 
 

Peattie must have figured out how to cut the power,

he thought, flicking the switch on his flashlight,

but its batteries had apparently gone dead, for no

light emanated from it.    What else could go wrong?
 
 

At least the backup he'd actually called for should

be arriving shortly, he thought, wondering at the

time.  Looking at his watch, he fingered the button

that would light up its face and give him the time.

He pushed it once, and then again.  What the hell . .

.
 
 

Suddenly, it hit him what was going on. He was blind.

Blind!  But he couldn't let it keep him from helping

Scully.
 
 

He heard a sound . . . a click like the opening of a

door . . . and he used it to zero in on the cabin.

Whether it was Scully coming out or somebody more

nefarious going in, it let him find the house.
 
 

The walk was frustrating, slower than it should have

been.  Normally, he'd have taken it at a slow gallop,

but this time, he couldn't risk falling or turning an

ankle.  He had to get there before something happened

to his partner or the surviving Wieders.
 
 

It seemed like forever before his foot came into

contact with something hard, the thunk of wood

indicating it was the cabin.  He found the steps and

ran up them to the door.  Drawing up short, he

listened again, but only silence came from the

interior.  Laying his hand on the doorknob, he tested

to see if it was unlocked before barging through,

prepared to take on their killer.
 
 

XxXxXxXxXxXxX
 
 

Scully's attention, previously on the pair upstairs

and the threat against them, was drawn to a sudden

ruckus at the door.
 
 

"Mulder!" she said in astonishment as he burst

through.  She didn't have the chance to say any more

as a sudden impact to the side of her head knocked

her to the floor, the room spinning around her.

Through the fog, she saw Peattie closing in on

Mulder, who stood as still as a statue.  Why wasn't

he moving to capture the man?
 
 

"You havin' problems d'ere, Agent Muld'r?" Peattie

was saying venemously.  "You 'tink you gonna save

dese peeple from gettin' what dey deserve?"
 
 

"Yes, I'll stop you," Mulder ground out, but he

didn't move.
 
 

"I don't tink you be able to stop me if you canna

even find me," Peattie said, moving around Mulder

just as Scully's vision came back into focus.
 
 

"I can find you just fine!" Mulder exclaimed, taking

a swing towards their killer but missing by a mile.

His swing threw him off balance, and Peattie easily

used his momentum to push him to the floor.
 
 

"And now, Mista Muld'r, 'tis time to finish it."  He

raised his hands in front of him, but she couldn't

see what he had.  Nevertheless, it was time for her

to take her own action.
 
 

Jumping to her feet, she hit Peattie like a defensive

lineman, sending him crashing to the floor.

Fortunately, she managed to land on him without both

of them then landing on Mulder.  Once he was down,

her Bureau training allowed her to incapacitate him

and get the cuffs on his empty hands.  She searched

him thoroughly, but he held no weapons, and she

wondered briefly how he'd intended to kill Dr.

Wieder.  She didn't believe in curses.
 
 

Flicking her phone open, she began to dial from her

position sitting on their prisoner's back.
 
 

"Don't bother," Mulder said.  "Backup's already on

its way."
 
 

She snapped the phone shut, severing the connection.
 
 

"Can we come down?" a shaky-sounding Wieder came from

the stairway.
 
 

"Yeah, you're safe.  We got him," she said.  "The

police will be here any moment."
 
 

"Thank God," the doctor sighed deeply, hugging his

daughter close to him.
 
 

"Scully, not to put a damper on the celebration, but

. . ."  Her partner's words were quiet in the silent

room.
 
 

Looking up to her partner, she was shocked by what

she saw.  Mulder almost seemed to be looking at her,

but his eyes were milky white, his irises and pupils

covered in a solid opaqueness.
 
 

"Mulder, your eyes!"
 
 

"I can't see, Scully," he said, obviously trying to

remain calm.
 
 

"But how, Mulder?"
 
 

He just shrugged his shoulders, lost for any

theories.
 
 

"Well, we'll figure it out, don't worry," she

encouraged.
 
 

"'ey, you get offa me," Peattie said from under her.
 
 

"When hell freezes over," she snapped back at him,

pulling on the cuffs.  "Considering what you've done,

you're lucky that's all I'm doing to you."
 
 

"I think you should get up, Agent Scully," came a

low, even voice from behind her.
 
 

Turning around, she almost didn't recognize the man

pointing her own weapon at her.  The warm, caring

physician had been replaced by a creature of

vengeance, so cold it sent a chill through her.
 
 

"Dr. Wieder, you don't want to do this. You're better

than he is."
 
 

"He took my wife . . . Almost killed my daughter.  He

deserves it!"
 
 

"Revenge isn't the way," Scully entreated.  "It's not

a solution.  You're better than this.  Now give me

the gun."
 
 

"That's where you're wrong," he answered, the gun

shaking in his fists.  "I'm not."
 
 

"You're right," Mulder said, obviously sensing the

danger and what was going on. "You say you love your

daughter. . . ."
 
 

"Don't bring her into this!" Wieder demanded.
 
 

"You've already brought her into it," Mulder said in

a calming voice.  "If you do this, what does that

leave her?   A young girl whose mother was killed and

whose father went to jail.  She'll have nobody,

Robert.  Nobody!"
 
 

"Daddy, please!" Lucy cried on cue.
 
 

It was enough to get to Wieder, who suddenly dropped

the gun and fell to his knees, sobbing.  "I'm sorry,

I'm sorry!"
 
 

"It's okay, Dr. Wieder.  Nobody blames you."
 
 

"Your life is worth more than revenge," Scully said,

breathing heavily with released tension.
 
 

Lucy rushed into the room and wrapped her arms around

her sobbing father.  "It's okay, daddy."
 
 

"I t'ank you for savin' me life," Peattie said

insincerely, finishing with a sneer, from his place

on the floor.
 
 

"I didn't do it for you!" Scully nearly snarled.
 
 

"Thank God," Mulder whispered, and it was the first

that Scully realized that the sirens were very, very

close, and white and red lights were bouncing through

the cabin's windows.
 
 

"Mulder, do you think you can hold him so I can go

greet our guests?"
 
 

"No, stay where you are," he said, getting to his

feet.  "The least I can do is find the damned door."
 
 

Heavy footfalls pounded on the porch just as Mulder

jerked open the door, admitting the local police

department.
 
 

"Everybody freeze!" the lead officer called, his gun

dawn.
 
 

"It's okay, Officer," Scully said.  "I'm Agent

Scully, and this is my partner, Mulder.  We're FBI."
 
 

He turned to Mulder.  "You're the one who called us?"
 
 

"That would be me," he responded flatly, flashing his

badge in the direction of the voice.
 
 

Peattie began to buck up under her, nearly tossing

her off.
 
 

"Now that the formalities are in order, could one of

you give me a hand here?"  Two young men in uniforms

quickly raced to her, grabbing her securely by the

arms so Peattie couldn't toss her off.
 
 

"This man is wanted for the murder of two people.

Please take him into custody, and don't forget to

Mirandize him."
 
 

"Yes, ma'am," they responded smartly, escorting

Peattie out the door.  The officer with the most

stripes on his arms stayed behind.
 
 

"Is there an ambulance out there, Lieutenant?"
 
 

"No, ma'am," he responded.  "Is somebody hurt?"
 
 

"Yes, but I'll drive him to the nearest hospital in

his car if you'll give us an escort.  I don't know

the area that well."
 
 

"Of course, Agent Scully."
 
 

"And could you please drive Dr. Wieder and his

daughter back to their home afterwards?  I think

they've had enough excitement for one day."
 
 

"Yes, ma'am."  He turned to face the doctor and

daughter.  "If you'll just follow me."
 
 

Just that suddenly, they were alone.  And for one of

the first times in their entire partnership, she

realized she didn't know what to say.  Apparently,

however, their unspoken communication was still

functioning.
 
 

"Say something, Scully, so I know you're still here."

He chuckled nervously.  "Anything will do. You could

even sing Joy to the World."
 
 

"You're not hurt that bad, so I'll spare you," she

said with a slight smile.  "You ready to head out?"
 
 

"Yeah, I think I'm done here."
 
 

"You're not gonna give me a hard time about going to

the hospital, are you?"
 
 

"This time . . ." he said, grasping her arm tightly.

"This time, you won't hear a peep."
 
 

"It's about time," she smiled, leading him carefully

from the house.
 
 

Of all the odd experiences in their partnership, it

had to have been one of the strangest.  Settling

Mulder into the passenger side of his own car,

climbing behind the wheel and adjusting the seat, and

then pulling out into traffic behind the patrol car.
 
 

She had to keep him talking or he'd clam up for sure.

"What happened, Mulder?"
 
 

"We found the boarding house where Peattie was

staying, and we found his daughter's body ˆ well,

most of it.  The head was missing."
 
 

"Ew, that's lovely."
 
 

"Yeah, I think a few young rookies lost their lunches

on that one.  Anyway, I realized from what he left

behind that he knew where you were, so I jumped in my

car and raced up here."
 
 

"Why didn't you call me?"
 
 

"I tried, but you didn't answer.  I thought . . .

well, I was afraid of the worst."  His voice had

grown quiet, barely above a whisper.
 
 

"Thank you, Mulder.  But what happened to your eyes?"
 
 

"If I knew, believe me, I'd tell you.  After I saw

your broken car window, there was just this pain, and

then it was gone."
 
 

"I'd have been terrified," she said quietly, putting

herself into Mulder's shoes.
 
 

"No, you'd have been fine.  You don't give yourself

enough credit."  It was an uncommon compliment.
 
 

"To be stumbling about in a place I've never been

before, unable to see, and thinking that my partner

was quite likely already incapacitated?  I think you

give me too much," she said softly.  "But thank you."
 
 

"Scully, what if . . ."
 
 

"Don't think about it.  You'll be okay."
 
 

"As they say, from your mouth to God's ears."
 
 

They rode the rest of the way in silence, each deep

in their own thoughts.  Finally, Scully pulled into

the ambulance bay at the emergency room.  Mulder

reached for he door handle, but her voice stilled

him.
 
 

"Hold on a sec, Mulder.  I'll come around and help

you."  Leaving the keys in the car, she scrambled

around the front end, arriving just as he opened the

door anyway.
 
 

"Just once, can't you do things my way?" She said

with a humorously exasperated tone.
 
 

"I'm here, aren't I?" he responded with a grin.
 
 

"Yes, you are, small miracle," she grinned back.

"Let's get you taken care of."
 
 

She led him through the doors, which parted like

magic at their approach.  He could hear the change as

his heels struck tiled floor instead of concrete,

traveling ten steps on the new surface before Scully

came to a stop.
 
 

"May I help you?" came a slightly-accented feminine

voice.  Irish, or maybe Scottish, he wasn't certain.
 
 

"Yes, I'm Special Agent Dana Scully, and this is my

partner, Agent Fox Mulder.  We were on an assignment

when something happened to his eyes."  Well, that

sounded ambiguous, she thought.
 
 

 "I see, and how long as Agent Mulder been blind?"
 
 

"He's not," she snapped, then her voice evened out.

"I'm sorry.  His eyes were fine until an hour ago

except for a slight tendency towards farsightedness."
 
 

"It had to have been Peattie," he said to her.  "He

did something."
 
 

Instead of responding to his comment, she continued

to the woman.  "Could we please see somebody as soon

as possible?  Eye damage could risk his career."
 
 

"Of course, Agent Scully.  If you'll complete these

forms, I'll page the on-call optical specialist.  He

should be here before you're done."
 
 

"Thank you," Scully sighed.
 
 

They sat in uncomfortable chairs and he could hear

the pen or pencil scraping on the paper as she

completed the required paperwork.  He felt lost,

unable to think of anything to do and wondering,

distractedly, if anybody was looking at him.
 
 

"Agent Mulder?"
 
 

Damn, that was a shock.  He must've jumped a mile.
 
 

"Warn a guy when you do that, wouldya?" he said, his

voice a bit strained.
 
 

"I'm sorry, Sir,"  a young voice said from beside

him.  "We're ready for you in treatment room four, if

you'll come this way."
 
 

He rose, feeling Scully doing the same beside him,

one woman taking each arm to escort him to the room

where they'd hopefully solve this mess.  He hated

this already.
 
 

He felt like a ninety-year-old man being walked

around this way and hearing his feet shuffle on the

floor.  It reminded him of his grandfather when

Mulder had been very small.
 
 

They walked some distance, and then Scully was

putting his hand on a flat surface to his left.
 
 

"Can you sit up there, Agent Mulder?" The young voice

asked.
 
 

"I can't see, but I'm not crippled," he responded,

pushing himself up onto the gurney.  It was a

position in which he'd been more times than he cared

to count.  Next would come the gown. . .
 
 

"Could you change into this, please?" the nurse

asked, and cloth was suddenly in his lap.
 
 

Got it in one.
 
 

"What makes you think I need to put on a hospital

gown to have my eyes examined?" he asked, trying to

sound oh-so logical.
 
 

There was silence in response, and then the rustling

of clothes indicating that the nurse had left.  He'd

been through this before, too.  She was leaving

Scully to deal with him.
 
 

"Scully, you can just give it a rest because nothing

short of you proposing marriage to me right this

second would get me out of my clothes."
 
 

"Not that that doesn't sound like a ball of fun,

Mulder, this time I happen to agree with you.  The

gown is extreme, but she was just doing as she was

taught."
 
 

"I'm not faulting her either ˆ I'm just also not

putting on the gown."
 
 

"Good enough."  She drew close, resting both hands on

his thighs, rubbing them comfortingly.  If he hadn't

been so scared, he would have had a very different

emotional reaction.  "Now tell me about it.  Can you

see anything at all?"
 
 

"Not a thing, although there's faint light."
 
 

"How could this have happened?" she asked

plaintively.
 
 

"It's gotta be Peattie.  He used some kind of

witchcraft on me."
 
 

"There's no such thing as witchcraft, Mulder."
 
 

"Then whatever you call what we've been investigating

the last few days.  Voodoo, magic, hokus pokus . . .

Whatever he did to kill Mrs. Wieder, he did again

tonight to my eyes."
 
 

She shook her head, unable to admit that the

possibility existed.  "It just doesn't make . . ."
 
 

"I'm sorry for the delay, folks," a booming voice

came as a shadow entered the curtained area.  "I had

an emergency that just couldn't wait."
 
 

"It's completely understandable in your situation,

Doctor," Scully said genially.  She was on her best

behavior, it seemed.
 
 

"Agent Scully, I presume?  And this is Agent Mulder?"
 
 

"Forgive me if I don't get up, Doctor.  I'm a bit . .

. disoriented at the moment."
 
 

"Most understandable, Mr. Mulder.  Now how about you

tell me what happened?"
 
 

While Mulder spoke, the doctor looked into his eyes

with first a pen light, then with a special

ophthalmoscope.
 
 

"I really can't tell you very much, I'm afraid. I was

outside, closing in on a cabin where a suspect was

trying to kill a victim we were protecting.  It was a

very dark night to begin with, so I almost didn't

notice until I tried to use my flashlight and then

look at my watch.  My vision was just . . . gone."
 
 

"Was it raining, Agent Mulder?"
 
 

"No, there were clouds, but no rain."
 
 

"And was anybody with you?"  He looked to Scully, who

spoke for herself.
 
 

"I was inside the cabin.  I didn't see him until it

had already happened."
 
 

Although his face was kind, she was distressed by his

next words.
 
 

"If you wouldn't mind, Agent Scully, I'd like to

examine Agent Mulder more thoroughly in private."

Seeing her hesitation, he added, "please."
 
 

"Mulder?" she asked, unsure whether she could leave

him.  Or if she should.
 
 

"It's okay, Scully.  It's been a long day, and I have

a feeling I'm in for a battery of tests."
 
 

The doctor nodded his assent.
 
 

"But, Mulder . . ."
 
 

"Scully, it's okay.  We've both been through a lot,

and you need some sleep."
 
 

"But . . ."
 
 

"And I'm going to need some clean clothes.  Go home,

get a few hours of sleep, and I'll see you in the

morning."
 
 

Scully smiled.  There was no fear or concern in her

partner's tone.  He was holding together well, and

she *was* awfully tired.
 
 

Coming close to him, she kissed his forehead gently.

"I'll say a prayer that you do," she whispered before

squeezing his hand briefly, then releasing it again.

Then, louder, she added, "Take good care of him,

Doctor."
 
 

"I'll do my best, Ma'am," the doctor smiled and

turned his back on her as she left.
 
 

XxXxXxXxXxXxX
 
 

A hot shower was never so good, and her bed never so

soft.  She felt a little guilty in the less-than-five

minutes that transpired between her climbing under

the covers and her falling fast asleep, for once not

even thinking about setting her alarm clock.
 
 

Before she knew it, there was sunlight streaming in

her window, and she rubbed her eyes, trying to focus

on her surroundings.  It was several seconds before

she could read the clock.  9:58.
 
 

"Damn!"  The reality came slamming back at her, and

the previous night's events came back in spades.

She had to get going, stop at Mulder's to pick up

some of his stuff and feed his fish, then get to the

hospital ˆ before the medical staff had had it up to

there with Mulder and tossed him out onto the

sidewalk without a second thought.
 

~~~
 

Robbed 2/2

by Mary Kleinsmith
 
 

She was still berating herself when she arrived at

the hospital about an hour and a quarter later,

despite the fact that she'd made good time.  She

still hadn't briefed Skinner, either, but that would

have to wait until she was reassured about Mulder's

condition, whatever that was this morning.
 
 

Stopping at the admissions desk, she had to wait

while the older woman there finished on the

telephone, and every second of the wait made her more

and more jittery.  She couldn't explain it, but

something was . . . foreboding.
 
 

Finally, the woman hung up the receiver.  "May I help

you?" she asked.
 
 

"Yes, I'm here to see Fox Mulder?  He was admitted

through Emergency last night."
 
 

"And the nature of his ailment?"
 
 

"He had had an eye . . . I mean, a visual . . .

injury."  How did you describe what had happened to

him?  She didn't even know what had.
 
 

The woman tapped on the keyboard, shaking her head.

"I'm not seeing anything in Optometrics.  Let me

check the general patient database."
 
 

Scully tried very hard not to tap her foot while she

waited.
 
 

"Ah, here he is!" The matronly woman exclaimed.

"Seventh floor, Room 715."
 
 

"Thank you," Scully said at the smiling woman.
 
 

As she searched out the elevators, she wondered if

there would be other patients with visual problems,

or if it was just a general ward.  She had the car to

herself, and thought about calling Skinner, but then

had second thoughts.  There was no point until she

got an update on his condition, since their boss was

certain to ask.
 
 

The doors opened, and she immediately knew to what

floor she had been directed, and to say she was

shocked and angry was an understatement.  Physical

injuries were most definitely not the main concern of

the patients she was seeing and hearing.
 
 

Rushing to the nearest nurses' station, she bit back

a, "what the hell is going on here?" in favor of a

more contained approach, knowing her anger would get

her nowhere.
 
 

"Excuse me, but can you tell me if Fox Mulder is on

this floor?"
 
 

The young, uniformed woman looked up from the

patient's folder she was studying with a less-than-

welcoming expression.
 
 

"Room 715," she said quickly, motioning to her right.

"Take this hall, then go down the next corridor on

the right."
 
 

"Thank you.  I'd like to speak to his doctor

immediately, so could you page him, please?"
 
 

"Doctor Rogerson is gone to lunch," she responded, as

if that explained everything.
 
 

"I don't care if Doctor Rogerson is at NASA examining

astronauts for fleas," Scully said, nearly losing her

temper.  She flipped open her badge.  "Get him here

now."
 
 

"Yes, ma'am," the woman said quickly, picking up the

phone.  If Scully hadn't been so worried about

Mulder, the change in level of cooperation would have

been nearly laughable.
 
 

Turning away, Scully made her way down the hall,

eagerly counting off the doors until she finally came

upon #715.  Taking in a large breath and holding it,

she entered.
 
 

"Who's there?"  She recognized the voice as Mulder's

even before she saw him in the bed, but when she did,

she was shocked.
 
 

"Oh, Mulder!"  Her partner lay in a hospital bed,

distinguishable from the standard type only by the

restraints which held his arms and legs securely in

place.
 
 

"Scully," he slurred, and it was apparent that he'd

been sedated.  "'S that you?"
 
 

"Yes, Mulder, it's me," she answered, wrapping his

cold hand in her own.  "How are you?"
 
 

"It's still dark," he said drowsily.  "Only now I'm

tired, too."
 
 

"I'm going to get you out of here.  What the hell is

the matter with that doctor?"
 
 

"Tried to tell'm, but they said I was crazy.

'Course, they din't say 'crazy', but tha's wha' they

meant."  His head started to lull to the side; the

conversation had obviously taken it out of him.
 
 

"What did you try to tell them, Mulder?  What did you

say?"  No answer came immediately, so she squeezed

his hand harder.  "Stay with me, here.  What did you

tell the doctors?"
 
 

"Told 'em that I couldn't see 'cause Peattie put hex

on me.  Pro'lly used a puppet."
 
 

"A poppet, Mulder?  We didn't find one on him when he

was arrested," she responded.
 
 

Before he could reply, the door opened and a dark-

haired man with a swagger the size of Texas came into

the room.  She hated him on sight.
 
 

"I was told somebody from the FBI was demanding my

presence."  His expression clearly said he wasn't so

sure he could believe that she was said agent.
 
 

"Yes, I'm also Agent Mulder's partner.  Would you

care to tell me what the hell is going on here?"
 
 

If her animosity was clear, he took it in stride.  "I

was called in when the other doctors could find

nothing physically wrong with your partner.  I was

able to quickly diagnose a somatosome disorder, but

Agent Mulder became antagonistic and had to be

sedated.  In a few hours, we'll let the sedatives

wear off, and we'll try again to see if we can get to

the bottom of what's bothering him."
 
 

"Are you telling me that you diagnosed a member of

the Federal Bureau of Investigation as having a very

physical injury that's all in his head, doctor? That

his blindness is psychosomatic?  Have you *looked* at

his eyes?"
 
 

Her ire took him off guard, and he immediately became

defensive.  "I'll have you know that somatosome

disorders can have very clear physical symptoms. It's

nothing to be ashamed of as long as the patient gets

the help he needs.  And I'd appreciate it if you

didn't look at me as if I'm a first year psych

student.  I'm very well respected in my field."
 
 

"Yeah, maybe . . . but you'll *never* be respected by

mine."
 
 

"You'll forgive me if the respect of a federal agent

isn't of utmost importance to me."  Now the guy was

just getting nasty, but she could admit, she provoked

it.  However, most people would be a bit more

concerned at attracting the dislike of a member of

the FBI.
 
 

"I'm not just a federal agent, Dr. Rogerson.  I'm a

licensed pathologist, a medical doctor, and a member

of the AMA.  And I have just two things to say to

you.  Firstly, effective immediately, are you no

longer in any kind of control over Agent Mulder's

treatment, and secondly, my partner is to be moved

into a normal hospital room *off* this floor as soon

as humanly possible."
 
 

For one of the first times, her "mama bear" routine

in regard to her partner wasn't going over with

flying colors.  "Now that he's admitted to my

department, you can't make those kinds of decisions

unless you have his power of attorney."
 
 

"I *have* his power of attorney," she responded

sharply.
 
 

"Prove it," he replied abruptly.  "Because nothing

short of the legal documents will get him transferred

out of my care."
 
 

"He has a card in his wallet.  He'll confirm it."
 
 

"A card isn't legally binding, and neither is the

word of a man in Mr. Mulder's condition.  I know you

don't think so, but I *do* care about my patients,

Agent Scully.  Even if they're not in complete

control of their faculties."
 
 

She tried to stifle the snarl that grew in her

throat.  It wasn't easy.  "Agent Mulder is probably

more sane than the entire medical staff of this

hospital, and definitely  more so than you!  Now I'm

going to go have my boss fax over the legal documents

for Mulder's power of attorney that you're insisting

on, and when I get back, I'd better not find out that

he's had any more sedative.  I want him up and aware

for his ride to his new room."  With that, she

stormed out, certain that there was smoke coming out

of her ears.
 
 

How dare he, she fumed?  How dare he write Mulder off

so casually when there had to be a better reason for

. . .
 
 

Wait . . . what was it Mulder had said?
 
 

Her mind raced, going over his few, garbled words

under the effect of the sedation.
 
 

Wishing she could use her cell instead, she rushed to

find a pay phone, dropping coins in the slot until

she made her connection.
 
 

"Yes, this is Agent Scully.  Please connect me to AD

Skinner."
 
 

It was a moment before his gruff voice came on the

line.
 
 

"Where are you, Scully?" Although it was phrased as a

question, it definitely was not.
 
 

"I'm at the hospital with Agent Mulder, Sir.  I need

you to fax them over his paperwork giving me power of

attorney when he's incapacitated."
 
 

"The police report said he'd only suffered vision

damage," Skinner stated, sounding puzzled.  He

already knew more than she'd expected.
 
 

"He did.  But because the inept doctors here can't

figure out why, they've written him off as a psych

case and sedated him into the next century.  I need

to get him out of their care."
 
 

"I'll fax it right over," her boss said, completely

agreeing with her stance on the situation.  "Is there

anything else I can do for you?"
 
 

"Yes, sir.  What is the situation out at the cabin

where we apprehended Peattie?"
 
 

"Forensics has been out there and collected all the

evidence.  Carted off everything except the

furniture, just in case.  But I don't . . ."
 
 

"I need to see everything that was found at the

scene, Sir.  Right away."
 
 

"Scully, it's all in the evidence lockup.  Can't you

come down . . ."
 
 

"No, sir.  I don't dare leave Mulder's side."
 
 

There was a heavy sigh from Skinner's end of the

line.  "Well, that intern of mine has been

complaining about not being able to get out of the

office.  Do I want to know why you want this stuff?"
 
 

"Not right now, no, I don't think so, Sir.  You'll

just have to trust me."
 
 

"Don't make me regret this, Scully," he said quietly.

"And I expect everything to be returned to the lockup

by five o'clock today.  That's five hours."
 
 

"Yes, sir, thank you.  That should be plenty of

time," she reassured.
 
 

"And keep me updated on Mulder's condition," he

added, just before hanging up without saying goodbye.
 
 

When she returned to Mulder's room, she found a new

nurse removing the IV.
 
 

"Dr. Rogerson ordered the removal of his IV," she

explained sympathetically.  "However, he insists that

Agent Mulder remain on this floor."
 
 

"And the restraints?"
 
 

"He didn't mention them either way," she stated,

seeming a bit scared.  "In light of that, I think we

can take them off as long as you'll be staying with

him."  She smiled warmly at Scully.
 
 

"I will be," Scully said in no uncertain terms.
 
 

"I'm Sharon, and I'll be on duty until ten.  If you

need anything, you can ask for me at the desk."  Her

unwritten message was clear; she was sympathetic, but

not everybody would be.  Scully wondered why this

woman was so different.
 
 

"Thank you, Sharon.  Just out of curiosity, what

makes your attitude so different."
 
 

"I've seen some things that . . . well, let's just

say that if I talked about them openly, I'd likely be

in the room next door if some people had their way.

I'm not so willing to write off unusual occurrences

as insanity."
 
 

Somewhere, a light bulb came on.
 
 

"You know who he is, don't you?"
 
 

"Most members of Mufon do, Agent Scully.  As they

know who you are."  Scully knew her expression

revealed her surprise.  "He's believed us, and we owe

it to him to believe him, too.  So do you."  It was

said with not malice or reprimand in her voice, just

simple fact.
 
 

Scully wasn't sure whether or not she should be

comfortable with this woman, but the nurse's warm

smile and caring touch with her partner made her

definitely lean on the side of the former.  "I do

believe him.  Now, I'm just trying to find a way to

help him."
 
 

Smiling, Sharon simply nodded.  "Then I'll wish you

good luck and leave you with him."
 
 

After she'd left, Scully held his motionless hand,

pondering their new friend.  She was nothing like

Scully expected a member of Mufon to be.  She seemed

. . . well . . . normal.  Sane.  It made her rethink

a lot of her preconceived notions about believers.
 
 

They must have really pumped Mulder full of drugs,

she realized when, two hours later, he was still

asleep.  She thought he'd have awoken by now, but

apparently, he was going to do so all in his own good

time.  But she'd wait.  As long as it took, she'd

wait.
 
 

A soft knock on the door preceded its being cracked

open, a fresh, freckled face with red hair peeking

around the door.  "Agent Scully?" asked the boy she

recognized as Skinner's intern.
 
 

"Yes, Kevin?"
 
 

"I brought the material forensics collected at the

scene, but there's three boxes of it.  Do you want it

in there or out here?"
 
 

Looking from the young man to her partner in the bed,

she was torn.  She didn't want to wake him, nor did

she want to leave his side.
 
 

"Where are they?"
 
 

"I have them right outside the door, ma'am."
 
 

"Good, I'll be out in a second," she said, dismissing

the young man, who left her in peace.  Walking to

Mulder's bedside, she bent to whisper in his ear.

"I'll be right back, Mulder.  Don't go anywhere."
 
 

She tore through the first box, and then the second,

where she found an odd-looking item, which she

snatched up.  A poppet!
 
 

"Did you find something, Agent Scully?" Kevin asked,

looking at the small doll.  "What is that?"
 
 

"It's called a poppet," she said as she distractedly

studied the item.  "Sort of like a voodoo doll."  She

had no idea what the proper procedure was for

disenchanting a poppet, but figured she'd start by

removing what she knew should be inside: a photo,

thorns, a hair . . .
 
 

Ripping open the crudely-sewn seam with her bare

hands, she was shocked when the picture she pulled

out of the interior wasn't of Mulder, but of her.
 
 

"That's you, Agent Scully!" the intern said,

surprised.
 
 

"Yes, it is," she responded, throwing it to the floor

and beginning to dig again.  "There's got to be one

in here for Mulder, and we need to find it!"
 
 

Rushing to help, Kevin cracked open the third box and

began rummaging through it with all his strength.

His supervisor had been clear that he was to assist

Agent Scully in any way possible, and if this would

help, he'd do it.
 
 

They unburied two more untouched dolls before a

victorious Kevin stood up, a tan object in a plastic

evidence bag in his hand.  "Agent Scully!"
 
 

It was more than enough to grab her instant

attention, and he held the object out to her: a crude

poppet . . . with two nails securely fixed through

the doll's eyes.
 
 

"Oh, my God," she said, taking it with trembling

fingers.  She wanted to yank out the nails instantly,

but second nature kept her from completing the act.

Instead, she walked the five or so steps to the

nurses' station where Sharon was working on some

charts.
 
 

"Could you please have Dr. Rogerson paged to Mulder's

room immediately?" she asked with a smile.
 
 

"Good news?" the nurse asked after making the call.
 
 

"Maybe.  We're going to hold a little demonstration

on being judgmental for our friend the doctor,"

Scully said, exchanging a wink with the woman.
 
 

The trio, Scully, Sharon, and Kevin, returned to

Mulder's door to wait, using the few minutes until

Rogerson arrived to re-box the remaining items that

had to go back to the bureau, including the poppet

made for her.  It would prove possible malicious

intent, at the very least.
 
 

Finally, he arrived.  "Agent Scully, I was in the

middle of making my rounds.  What is so important

that it couldn't wait?"
 
 

Scully couldn't believe the man's arrogance.  "I

wanted you to be here when we did this, so there'd be

no doubt whatsoever that Mulder should be released.

I'm so sorry if seeing to the well-being of a patient

interrupted your drugging others into oblivion."  She

knew she was probably being unfair; many of the

patients here really did need the sedation.  But her

ire at the way he'd treated Mulder had blinded her,

and she recognized that.  Heck, she was enjoying

being able to be the irrational one for a change.
 
 

"I'll have you know . . ." he said, beginning to

defend himself.
 
 

"Forgive me if your needs aren't my first priority at

the moment, Dr. Rogerson," she said in a biting tone.

"My priority is my partner."
 
 

With that, she opened the door and entered Mulder's

room.  If he'd planned to flee, the opportunity

wasn't afforded him when Sharon and Kevin closed

ranks behind him so he had nowhere else he could go.

Once in the room, Scully waved him to the opposite

site of Mulder's bed.
 
 

"Mulder, wake up," she said gently.  "C'mon, Mulder.

You can't sleep the day away."
 
 

Slowly, ever so slowly, Mulder's eyes opened, the

cloudy corneas striking her as if for the first time.

She tried very hard to keep her actions from showing

in her words.
 
 

"So, you planning on lazing around all day?  I

thought maybe we could take a walk down to the

commissary for some lunch."  As she spoke, she held

the poppet up for everybody to see.  "I hear they're

having tacos today.  Are you hungry?"
 
 

"I'm starved," Mulder said with a smile.  "Want me to

lead the way?"  His chuckle was self-deprecating, but

she knew him well enough to know he was fighting

despair.
 
 

"Can't you let me be in charge just once?" she

responded in a light tone, that belied the action of

her hands as she held the doll securely in one and

removed first one, then the other, nail.
 
 

It was magical ˆ there was no other way she could

think of to describe it.  One minute, he was looking

sightlessly into space, and a moment later he

blinked, and, suddenly, hazel eyes looked out

clearly, fully taking in his surroundings.
 
 

He looked from one face to the next, his gaze finally

falling on Scully.  "Scully, have I ever told you how

beautiful you are?" he asked, smiling.
 
 

"Oh, Mulder!"  Her happiness spilled over in the form

of tears.  Truth be told, she hadn't been totally

certain it would work, but she'd trusted, and that

trust had been rewarded.  Leaning down, she embraced

him briefly.  "The next time I doubt one of your

freaky theories," she said, "remind me of this day,

okay?"
 
 

"I never give up the chance to say 'I told you so,'"

he smiled back.
 
 

She tore her gaze from him to the doctor standing in

shock opposite her.  "Do you have anything to say,

Dr. Rogerson?"
 
 

Rogerson stammered, then blushed, then stammered some

more before finally regaining control of his tongue.

"Um . . . Nurse . . ."  He cleared his throat and

tried again.  "Nurse, would you please put in a call

to optical?"  He tried to smile, but was clearly

shaken.  "I'm sure Agent Mulder would appreciate a

clean bill of health before being released into his

partner's care."
 
 

Sharon chuckled and squeezed Scully's arm as she

walked by on her way out of the room.
 
 

Mulder watched for another moment as Kevin made a

sound in the back of his throat.  "If you'll excuse

me, Agent Scully, I'll return the evidence and report

back to AD Skinner.  I'm sure he'll expect an update

on Agent Mulder's condition."
 
 

"Do me a favor?" Scully asked the young man, who

nodded.  "Don't tell him exactly how it happened?  I

can't wait to see his expression."
 
 

"What did you do?" Mulder asked, reaching for her

hand.  "Whatever it was, thank you."
 
 

"I trusted in your beliefs, Mulder," she said as he

eyes filled again.  "I trusted in your beliefs."
 
 

The End