"Wishing Thinking" by Jen & Lauren JenR13@aol.com & JRDG1013@aol.com SPOILERS: A mention of Die Hand Die Verletzt and (very) small mentions of episodes up to and including Detour (if you would like a timeline of this story, assume it takes place before "The End" in Season 5) RATING: PG-13 CLASSIFICATION: XA (Yes, it has a plot) KEYWORDS: Mulder/Scully UST, Muldertorture ARCHIVE: Sure, why not? :-) SUMMARY: Wishes can't come true, or can they? DISCLAIMER: Well, we have all heard it a million times, but here goes: Don't worry Chris, we only _borrowed_ your toys, and our mommies taught that borrowing means _you have to give them back_. So, although Mulder is bit damaged (but Chris, when is he not? ), we hand all your characters back into your hands. AUTHOR'S NOTES: Happy 2nd story to us! :-) This is the second story that we have written together, but certainly not the last! :-) And as it has to be said, if you find some minor mistakes, please don't write us countless letters about them, because we already know they exist :-). We, like the rest of the whole world, are not perfect, especially when it comes to proofreading 158 pages! "Wishful Thinking" By Jen and Lauren c1998 The crowd cheered as 14-year-old Sarah Martin finished her piano piece. her sister, Katie, thought sarcastically as her sister stood up for another bow. And Katie was only 12. Katie watched her sister Sarah get congratulated by her family, friends, and her piano teacher. Besides Sarah's piano skills, she also had a 4.0 GPA. Katie always heard her parents say: "Why can't you more like your sister?" God, she hated that. So, what if she didn't have the best grades or fantastic music skills? So what if she wasn't as pretty or popular? So what if she didn't turn the heads? she thought She turned back to her sister. Her parents came up to her. "Katie, aren't you proud of your sister?" her mother asked. Katie smiled. "Of course, Mom. Of course." But Katie was thinking the opposite. she thought in the same way every kid thought of their over-achieving sister. But this time it was different. Katie watched her smiling sister walk toward her. Sarah suddenly stumbled and fell to the floor. People started running toward her. "She's not breathing!! Someone call an ambulance!!" Katie watched the scene unfold before her eyes. She half heard the cries behind her. She was only focused on one thing in the room: her sister. "I didn't mean it," she whispered, tears falling from her eyes. "I didn't mean it." J. Edgar Hoover Building Washington, D.C. 8:30 a.m. "Earth to Mulder." Fox Mulder jumped and looked up from the file he was reading. His partner, Dana Scully, stood in front of his desk. "I've been calling your name for the last three minutes. What has you so involved?" she asked, walking around the desk to get a better look at the folder. "This." Mulder handed the folder up over his shoulders to Scully. She walked around to the front of the desk again, flipping through it as she walked. After a minute she shut it. "Why don't we save time and you tell what is in here," she said, indicating the folder. "Thought you would never ask." Mulder picked up a picture off of his desk and held it up. "This is 14-year-old Sarah Martin. A resident of a little town in New Jersey called Rutherford. Not far from the Meadowlands Sports complex," he said with a smile. "Pretty little girl. Quite a piano player, too." Scully took the photo from Mulder's hand and took a closer look at it. The girl in the photo was pretty, with brown hair and brown eyes. "And?. . . ." "And she was a happy, healthy, active teenager until two days ago. Now she's a corpse. Collapsed shortly after playing in her piano recital. In front of 200 people. The cause of death, well, that why this file made it way down to the basement, Scully." "And the cause of death would be?. . . ." Mulder got up, walked over to Scully, and opened the folder in her hands. "I believe you will find it on page 9." Scully raised her eyebrows and looked at the folder. "Strangulation?" "Yep. With the signs of it around her neck. Sarah, apparently, fell to the floor, at her recital, in front of 200 people remember, gasping for air. She was dead by the time the ambulance arrived. Not one of the people there saw anyone close to Sarah in those seconds before she collapsed, never mind close enough to strangle her." He walked back his desk and opened the drawer. Scully's skepticism shot up at once. "Mulder, that's not possible. Maybe there was a mistake in the autopsy." Mulder looked up her. "Look at those photos, Scully. I don't think that is a mistake. But I did arrange for you to look at the body when we get there. So you can check it out for yourself." He put two airline tickets on the desk. "Our flight is at noon. We lucked out. An hour flight." Scully sighed. "I guess I better go home and pack." Flight 456 On the runway 12:27 p.m. Scully tapped her fingers on her arm rest. They had been stuck on the runway for the last half an hour. She took her fingers off of the armrest and was now playing with them on her lap. "Impatient, Scully?" Mulder asked as he sat down in his seat next to Scully. "I just wish we would get this over with," Scully muttered. She wasn't fond of plane rides. She remembered the first plane ride she took with Mulder. The plane had dipped and while she had grabbed her seat, Mulder acted like nothing was happening. she thought. "Well, I just talked to one of the flight attendants. She said there was a long line for take-off. We should get going in a minute," Mulder said, settling down in his seat. "Which flight attendant, Mulder? The blond one?" Scully teased. "Of course, who else?" he answered with a grin. The plane started moving then. The seatbelt sign flashed on and Scully buckled her seatbelt. It was a calm peaceful ride for about 10 minutes. Mulder was sitting in his seat with his eyes closed. Scully thought with a smile. Suddenly turbulence hit. The plane jostled. Scully gripped her seat so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She turned toward her partner. He was looking with her, with a sly grin on her face. With the plane still in turbulence, Mulder said, with a straight face, "Scully, I've never seen someone grip something so tight. Your boyfriends must be very satisfied." Scully thought, still holding her seat. Mulder noticed that and gripped her hand with his. They looked at each other. "Dare me to hit on that flight attendant now?" Mulder said with a smile. Scully had to smile at that. The turbulence subsided then. "Thanks for the distraction, Mulder," she said softly. "Aw Scully, I'd offer to hit on any flight attendant for you," he answered and settled into his seat and closed his eyes again. Newark Airport Newark, NJ 2:39 p.m. Mulder rubbed his eyes as he walked up to the rent-a-car. "What's the matter?" Scully asked. "The flight too short for you this time?" she thought "Maybe," he said and gave their names to the people at the desk. She then handed him a key and pointed toward the parking lot. They walked in silence to the parking lot. "Give me the keys, Mulder," Scully said simply when hey reached the car. Mulder looked at her. "You're tired and I want to drive. That too much to ask for?" Mulder handed the keys over to her without a word. On the Highway 3:15 p.m. As Scully kept her eyes on the road, Mulder took the opportunity to look over the case some more. "You can do your autopsy whenever, Scully," he said. "I want to talk to the family." "And I wouldn't? Where is this motel, by the way?" she asked, as she turned off of the highway. "There, Scully." Mulder pointed to a small motel sandwiched between houses and a Burger King. The sign outside proudly announced "Free HBO." "We even get free HBO, Scully. Guess the perks just don't stop." Scully parked the car on the street, not seeing a parking lot. "This is the only motel in Rutherford?" Scully asked, still gazing at it through her window. "Well, no. Actually Rutherford doesn't have a motel. We are about 50 feet from Rutherford in Lyndhurst." "Didn't know you knew so much about New Jersey, Mulder," Scully remarked, as she climbed out of the car. "See, Scully, I do my homework. Let's get checked in." He headed for the motel. Scully sighed and followed. Motel Lyndhurst, NJ 4:03 p.m. Scully quickly rummaged through her suitcase for a more comfortable pair of shoes. She had just spent a half hour on her feet as Mulder tried to get a room in the motel. They had arrived at the clerk's desk and found no one there. Mulder had tracked down two maids, but no manager. Finally the guy arrived and they got to check in. And it was 4 o'clock. Scully sighed as she found another pair of shoes that (fortunately) matched her outfit, put them on, and walked next door to Mulder's room and knocked on the door. "Who is it?" came the reply from within. "Mulder, it's me," she replied, knowing that Mulder would instantly know who it was. "Scully, come in, the door's open." Scully walked in to an empty room. Mulder's suitcase lay open and the contents lay spawled out on the bed. she thought. "I'm almost ready to go," Mulder said as he peeked his head out the bathroom door. Scully noticed something different about him. True to his word, Mulder was out of the bathroom two minutes later. Scully immediately eyed him. Mulder felt Scully's eyes on him as he grabbed his badge and gun from the dresser. "Do I look that good today to have the pleasure of being ogled?" Scully ignored that comment and walked up to him and fingered his tie. "Your tie! It's...it's..." "It's what?" Mulder was clueless now. "It's nice and......normal." Scully dropped his tie. Mulder looked down. "Yeah, well, I kinda spilled iced tea on my alien one on the plane," he said and walked toward the door. Scully stood there for a moment. "Scully, are you coming? You said you wanted to come to the Martins' with me." Mulder looked at her oddly. Scully shook her head. "Yeah, I'm coming." Since when did her partner's tie bother her? On the Road 5:17 p.m. Scully drove again. "I never said I knew New Jersey well. You did, remember?" Mulder was saying. Scully slouched in the driver's seat and mumbled some- thing incoherent. "Hm?" She glared at him. "I can't believe you got us lost." "We're not lost. I know exactly where we are... we're at," He turned to read the sign. "Bobby's Bar and Afghani cuisine and gift shop." He opened his door and jumped out. "Maybe Bobby's got a map or at least an employee with a sense of direction. And Scully? It wasn't my fault we got lost, it was that woman at the gas station who convinced us to turn left when I said right." "Uh huh." She had past him and was inside Bobby's. "Phew," she said when a blast of smoke hit her full in the face. She walked up to the counter where a bored looking lady was smoking a cigarette and simultaneously chewing gum, a feat which Scully figured must take some talent. "Excuse me, can you direct us to Partrick Rd... in Rutherford?" The lady eyed Scully. "You're on Partrick." Scully felt an overwhelming urge to pull out her badge and flash her officialness in the rude lady's face, but instead she dug the toe of her shoe into the scuffed tile floor. "All right, I'm looking for number 47." "Congratulations." There was a long pause. Scully glanced longingly over her shoulder to locate Mulder; she found him reading Hallmark cards across the room. She turned back to the lady. "Look, what number are we on Partrick." The lady took a moment, apparently trying to come up with a smart-alec remark but, finding none, replied, "Forty- three." "We're two houses down from forty seven?" She nodded and rubbed her cigarette out on the filthy counter top and popped her gum. Scully glared at Mulder. "Thanks a lot," she told the lady. On the way out she tapped her partner on the arm. She drove the full 20 feet to the Martins' house then got out of the car and moved quickly up to the house, still not saying anything to Mulder. "Hey," He had caught up with her in a few long strides. "What's up with--" The door opened and cut off his inquiry. A middle aged woman, most likely Mrs. Martin, stood before them, wearing a moo-moo and her hair in a loose bun. "Hello?" Scully asserted, pulled out her badge. "Hello, I'm Agent Scully, we spoke on the phone earlier." She acknowledged Mulder. "And this is Agent Mulder." "Yes, yes," she gave a warm smile. Scully wondered. "Please come in, my husband should be home any moment now." They entered a dimly lit living room area; a floral print couch was in the middle and Scully and Mulder sat there while Mrs. Martin went to the stairs. With one hand on the banister she leaned up and called, "Katie. Katie, come downstairs, I need you to talk to some people." There was a silence then a Scully heard a voice call, "Okay." and a minute later a young girl came down the steps, jumping from the third to the bottom to land with a thud on the uneven wooden planks. "Katie, these are Agents Mulder and Scully. Will you sit with us for a few minutes to talk about Sarah?" Her voice softened when she said her older daughter's name. Katie looked hesitant but stepped over to the armchair, draped in another floral print, and sat, arms wrapped around her pulled up knees. She watched the agents carefully, waiting for one of them to speak. "Katie--" Agent Scully started. She cut her off. "Yes?" she replied abruptly. "Uh," Agent Scully smiled. "How old are you, Katie?" "Twelve," she replied faster than she had meant to. She realized she sounded nervous then realized she was. Agent Scully began speaking quietly to her mom so she turned her attention to Agent Mulder. He was apparently listening closely to the other adults' conversation, he had his long legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles and his eyes flicked from her mother to Agent Scully and back again, depending on who was talking. she realized. Katie suddenly realized the agents were standing up to leave. That was strange... they'd only been here a couple minutes. "...we'll be calling you in a couple days, Mrs. Martin." Agent Scully was saying. She smiled politely and they left. In the driveway, Scully was accepting the keys from Mulder. "You really are tired, aren't you?" she asked. "What's the matter?" He shrugged and got into the passenger's seat. "I dunno. Nothing, I guess." She frowned. "You hardly said anything in there. Mulder!" "WHAT??" He flinched, alarmed. She was staring at his chest and he too looked down. "What?" "Your tie! It's..... bright!" she said. He pulled it away from his body to get a closer look and sure enough it was. "Mulder, it looks like Walt Disney threw up on it." He dropped the tie and gave a little laugh. "C'mon Scully, let's go back." She stared at it one more time, wondering how he had changed ties without her noticing and stuck the key in the ignition. Mulder hardly said a word all the way back to the motel. Scully was getting worried. Mulder was usually never this quiet. She glanced at him, hoping he wouldn't notice. No such luck. "What are you looking at?" Mulder asked, sounding annoyed. "You're so quiet. Are you okay?" Scully asked her eyes turning back to the road. "I'm FINE," Mulder said, quiet loudly, and in the same way Scully had said that line over and over again when she was sick. Scully got the hint. Whatever problem Mulder had, he would tell her when he was ready. Though sometimes when he was ready happened to be too late. Scully pushed the thoughts out of her head. She pulled up at the motel without another word from Mulder. As they walked to their rooms, she saw Mulder yawn out of the corner of her eye. "I'm going to grab something to eat, then head out to the medical examiner's office and take a look at Sarah Martin's body," Scully said, and she watched Mulder nod slightly. Then she added, "Mulder, you look beat. Get some sleep." She braced herself for another outburst, like in the car, but was greeted instead by a simple, "Ok, Scully." Scully sighed and watched Mulder walk into his room. She headed to the lobby to see if she could get something to eat. Medical Examiner's Office 6:15 p.m. The place was almost deserted when Scully arrived. She spotted a man in blue scrubs and guessing him to be John Jacobs, head medical examiner, and walked over to him. "Dr. Jacobs?" Scully asked when she reached him. "Yes?" He looked up from the chart he was looking at. "I'm Special Agent Dana Scully from the FBI. You were holding the body of Sarah Martin for me to look at?" Scully said, an air of question to her last remark. "Ah, yes, Dr. Scully. I was expecting you. This way." He led her to the back and to an autopsy bay. "It's all yours. I'll be reviewing cases at the main desk if you need me." Scully thanked him and watched him walk away. Then she got to work. Medical Examiner's office 6:45 p.m. Scully sighed. When she had first seen the body of Sarah Martins, she had seen the cause of death was apparent. There was major bruising on the neck and further examination confirmed strangulation as cause of death. But Scully was puzzled as to how the strangling took place. There had to be an explanation. She took off her latex gloves in frustration. There was nothing else to learn from this autopsy. So she just cleaned up and headed back toward the car. "Find anything new?" Dr. Jacobs asked, as she passed him on the way out. Scully shook her head. "I didn't think you would. It's just a puzzle." thought Scully as she headed out the door. Now she understood Mulder's fatigue. She was beginning to feel a little of it herself. Motel 7:35 p.m. Scully shook her head as she turned the key into the lock of her room. Just as she was about to enter it, she was interrupted by a scream. She turned her head and noticed it had come from Mulder's room. "Sam! NO!!!!" she heard him scream, loud. She knew it was another dream. He had many of them. She instinctively went for Mulder's door and turned the handle. Surprisingly it was unlocked. She walked in and found the lights out and Mulder tangled in the covers of his bed, in a white T-shirt and boxers, twisting and turning. "Sam--don't!!" Scully walked toward him to wake him when his cries changed. "Scully--don't take Scully!! You already have Sam, don't take her too!" he mumbled. Scully stood back at that call. Her? Why was he dreaming of her? Mulder tended to believe that everything was his fault. Her thoughts were cut off by Mulder muttering something else, unrecognizable. She walked over and turned on the lamp next to his bed. "Mulder," she said gently, shaking him. Mulder mumbled something else. "Mulder. Mulder." She shook him a little harder. Finally hazel eyes greeted her. A look of confusion crossed them, then a look of relief. "Scully, you're here....," Mulder whispered. Scully noticed the beads of sweat that covered his face. She would have dismissed it as normal, because of the nightmare, but she also noticed his cheeks were flushed a light red. She frowned in concern. Mulder focused a bit more on his surroundings. He had been surprised to see Scully's face looking into his own; but he felt relieved. Then he watched her mouth turn into a frown, a look he knew a little _too_ well. He pushed the covers away; then he noticed that he had already pushed most of them away in his sleep. He got up out of the bed and escaped Scully's gaze and frown. "So what did you find out?" he asked, as if the nightmare he just had had not occurred. Mulder watched Scully's frown lessen. "Nothing much. She was strangled. How? I don't know," she admitted. Mulder grabbed his clothes and walked into the bathroom. "So did you eat?" he shouted from the bathroom. "Yes, but only a little," Scully said. "I'm up for something else now." Mulder appeared two minutes later fully dressed, straightening the same outrageous tie Scully had noticed in the car. "Let's go find a decent restaurant around here," he suggested as he grabbed his badge and gun from the dresser, something Scully had watched him do only a few hours before. "Mulder, couldn't you at least wear that tie that you wore to the Martins'? _Before_ you changed it?" Scully urged. Mulder broke into a grin. "Well, Scully, the funny thing about that is, that tie, was misplaced." He walked toward the door. Scully followed shaking her head. Someday she would get him to wear a normal tie for more than five minutes. _Someday_. McDonald's Rutherford, NJ 8:03 p.m. Scully watched Mulder sink his teeth into a Big Mac and grin widely so she could see the contents of his mouth. "That's disgusting, chew with your mouth closed." Scully couldn't help but smile a bit too. She had long finished her salad but Mulder was already into his second Big Mac. "I thought you said a decent restaurant, Mulder." "Thith ithn dethen?" he asked around a mouthful. He finished off the burger. "Think I could get another one of these?" He stood and walked to the counter, not waiting for her response. "Keep that up, you're gonna make yourself sick," she said when he came back. He shrugged. "Mulder, do you have any idea where we're going with this case?" He cocked his head in inquiry and she continued, "Sarah Martin was a healthy teenager when she was killed. She was in a room full of people, someone would've noticed if anyone had come up and.... and strangled her. She...." Scully struggled for a way to put this. "Mulder, her death is impossible. There was no one NEAR her, and..... and how do you explain the strangulation marks? Huh?" He was licking grease off his fingers. "That's why it's an X-File, remember?" Scully sighed, opened her mouth, then shut it again. "Look, I'm tired. I just did an autopsy while you were napping." Remembering the terror he was in while "napping", she immediately regretted bringing it up. "I'm going back to the motel. I recommend you do too." "Actually, I want to check out the crime scene." Mulder had stood up and was shrugging into his trench coat. "I'll drop you off at the motel." He held the door open for her and she slipped under his arm and out into the cold night air. "All right, but, Mulder?" "Mm?" "Don't stay out too late. You need all the sleep you can get." She thought he would argue but instead he smiled. "Yes, Mom." Motel Rutherford, NJ 9:00 p.m. Scully had just showered and changed into her pajamas and was now sitting on the corner of the bed, brushing out her wet hair and taking advantage of the free HBO. The end of Contact was on. She'd never seen it before so following the plot when watching from the end took a bit too much concentration so she clicked off the TV with the remote and sat back. Pulling her book off the bedside table, she flipped on the small lantern light by the bed and opened her book. A glance of her watch, it was 9:23. She read a few chapters then, yawning, looked down at her watch again. 10:04. Where was Mulder? she thought, not believing a word of it. Her hand groped on the wall for the light, found it and switched it off. She slipped under the covers, yawning, and, though she was tired, she couldn't fall asleep. 8:39 p.m. Mulder paced the hall, thinking. He had come to the scene of the crime, the piano recital hall. He had gotten their just as the director of the studio, Jenna Hall, was leaving. She kindly let him to explore and showed him how to lock up when he was done. So now , it was just Mulder and the empty studio. He walked to the piano and looked around it. There was no places for a person to hide there, at least without being seen. The piano was at the north end of the room, with a huge window behind it. You could watch someone play easily from outside, Mulder noted. He yawned then and tried to push his fatigue aside and concentrate. Something was bothering him; it was in the back of his mind, his couldn't quite grasp it. He remembered how Sarah's sister, Katie had acted that afternoon. She seemed nervous, then again, her sister did just die. Mulder knew that was a frightening thing, his mind returning to his dream. He shook his head. He didn't think that he would be getting any sleep tonight. Mulder sighed. He wished he had brought Scully. Then he would someone to bounce ideas off of. This was frustrating. He checked his watch. 9:15. Had he been here that long? Mulder got up to leave when a sparkle of gold caught his eye. He bent down and picked it up. It was a simple gold bracelet with a simple K engraved on it. Mulder thought as he looked at it. In fact, he had remembered Katie wearing a similar bracelet when he and Scully were at the Martin's. Mulder held the bracelet up to the light, when he caught a shadow creeping up behind him. He turned to see what it was when he felt something hard slam into the back of his head. As darkness threatened him, Mulder looked up and saw nothing. Darkness cut off Mulder's thoughts. 10:26 p.m. Back at the motel Scully laid awake in her bed, listening to every sound that she heard. She had heard cars pass by, but not one of them turned toward the motel. No sign of Mulder. Scully was growing worried. She had seen him over 2 hours ago. she thought. But it was that "or something" that bothered her. "That's it," Scully muttered. She threw the covers off and grabbed her coat. She wouldn't be able to sleep until she saw him. And then, she would kill him for worrying her. Piano Studio 11:55 p.m. Since Mulder had the car Scully had to call a cab. It took _forever_. Scully was growing more worried by the moment. Luckily, the cabby knew where the studio was. Scully ran out of the cab and saw a light on in the studio. she thought. That meant Mulder must still be here. Or at least someone that might know where Mulder went would be there. She rushed toward the door, hoping it was unlocked. It was. Scully opened the door, found the stairs, and went up to the room where the light was on. "Mulder!" she cried when she walked in. Mulder lay in a heap by the piano, with a gold bracelet laying beside him. She saw a broken footstool at his feet. Two situations came to mind. Either Mulder 1) tripped over the footstool, or 2) he was hit over the head with it. Scully hoped it was one, but had it a feeling it was two. She crept beside Mulder and felt his pulse. At least that was strong. She touched the tickle of blood that was coming from a spot near Mulder's hairline. He groaned at her touch. "Mulder? Mulder, can you hear me?" Mulder groaned again and wondered what Scully was doing here. And why did he have such a headache? Mulder tried to open his eyes, but found it difficult. When he was finally able to open them, all he saw was a dizzying tangle of lights. "Mulder?" Scully asked again, concern in her voice. Mulder blinked his eyes again and was able to focus. He saw Scully knelt down next to the piano. Then he remembered. "Some-thing hit....me," he mumbled, not quite sure of the words. He started to sit up, but both a strong pain and Scully pushed him back down. "Stay down, Mulder," Scully said, reassuringly. "Do you think they are still here?" she asked, grabbing for her gun. Then Mulder remembered what he had seen right before he passed out. "There was no one," he mumbled, then got a strength on the words. "I was able to turn around before I blacked out and there was no one there." "You sure?" Mulder nodded, regretting that move when pain radiated from his head. Scully relaxed a little and Mulder tried to sit up again. Scully tried to push him back, but he pushed her hands away. But he regretted sitting up as soon as he did it. The room went back to being a dizzying circle of lights. He closed his eyes again and when he opened them, things were in focus, and Scully was in front of him, frowning. "How long where you out?" she asked. Mulder himself frowned. "When I last looked at my watch it was 9 something...." He couldn't remember the time exactly; his brain was still fuzzy. Scully's frown deepened. "It's midnight now, Mulder. You've been out at least 2 hours, probably more. Mulder, I want you to get checked out at the hospital." But as soon as she had said those words Mulder was shaking his head. "Mulder, you could, hell, with your track record, you probably have a concussion. Plus that cut on your head is going to need a couple of stitches," Scully pointed out and was getting her cell phone out. Mulder clapped his hand over the cell phone. "Please, Scully, you take care of it. Wake me up every two hours if you have too. I don't want to go to the hospital." His eyes were so pleading that Scully sighed. A 24- hour observation period could put a damper into their investigation. Plus, Mulder was pretty lucky when it came to head injuries. She sighed again. "Ok, Mulder. You win. No hospital. But you _are_ going to listen to me, right?" Scully warned rather than asked. Mulder nodded. "Now can you get up?" Scully asked and she helped him to his feet. He swayed a lot when he got there, though. Scully put her hand around him and led him to the car. She sighed for the third time in five minutes. Couldn't Mulder ever survive a case without injury? Motel Rutherford, NJ 12:17 a.m. After stopping by the local drug store in search for some painkillers for Mulder and finding it closed, Scully returned to the motel with a pretty much zoned out Mulder. "C'mon," she said and gently shook his shoulder. In an action of half-leading/ half-carrying her six-foot partner back to the motel, Scully managed to unlock the door and step inside just before the rain started to fall. Sheets of gray rain pounded incessantly on the tin roof. After just a few seconds, it was beginning to give Scully a headache and she couldn't begin to imagine what Mulder was going through. He had collapsed on the bed, fortunately the one in his room, because Scully wasn't sure if she would be able to get him up anytime soon. She sat at the edge of his bed, a few wet tissues in hand, and dabbed at the cut on his head. She spoke softly. "This isn't as bad as I thought, no stitches. But we still have to be cautious with that concussion." He didn't respond to that. Louder, she said, "Mulder, think you can get out of your suit? Do you have anything... any sweats, maybe?" He gave a barely perceptible nod. Scully smiled and patted his hand. "I'll go look in your suitcase. Be right back." When she returned, he had his eyes clenched tightly shut, forehead scrunched against the headache. He was curled up, head thrown back, one hand held loosely onto his collar as if it had been trying to loosen it but had given up in the effort. Scully pushed his hand away, careful not to disturb him, and undid the knot in his tie. She managed to pull it off without him noticing but when it was time for the suit jacket to come off, she needed to move him. "Mulder," she whispered. "Mulder," she said a little louder. "C'mon, sit up for me." His eyes opened, he licked his lips and sat up, his movements slow and lethargic. Still moving slowly, he shrugged out of the suit jacket and messed with the buttons on his shirt. However, he was exhausted and some of his usual coordination was lost with the concussion so Scully ended up helping him with the rest of his clothing. When he was clad in black sweatpants and a gray FBI T-shirt and safely under the covers, Scully turned off the light by his bed. "Goodnight," she said, knowing he was already asleep. She began to walk backwards, watching him warily in the sliver of light coming from under the door, nervous about l eaving him. Just as she reached the door, the light glinted on something in his hand. Scully moved back to the bed and found the source of attention; a small, golden bracelet, the one she had found by Mulder in the studio, held in his fist, loosened and relaxed with sleep. Carefully, she nudged apart his fist and pulled the bracelet out. her tired mind said. She pulled her sleeve over her hand and held the bracelet in it, as to not wipe away potential fingerprints on it. Then, returning to her room, she dropped the evidence in a plastic bag and went to bed for the second time that night. This time, she slept well. Motel 9:57 a.m. Scully had woken up early and dropped the bag with the bracelet off at the local crime lab to be examined for fingerprints. She was now sitting restlessly in her room, getting bored of the free HBO and waiting for Mulder to wake up. So far she'd watched the end of Ferris Beuller's Day Off and most of Parenthood. She was laughing at Steve Martin in Parenthood when she heard a crash from the next room. Reaching for the remote, she turned down the volume a bit so she could hear better what was going on in the next room and waited for Mulder to appear at her door. When she heard nothing more after several minutes, she began to get worried. She turned off the TV. and walked through the door joining her and Mulder's room. She found him sprawled on the floor near his bed, hair sticking up in thirty-five different directions, looking confused. Scully knelt by him. "Hey. How you feeling?" Before he answered she noticed he was squinting. "Head hurts, huh? I'll go out and get you some pain killers in a couple minutes. Do you want some breakfast first?" He was staring at her face, still not fully awake, slow at answering, "Breakfast?" "Yeah, you want some?" His mouth turned in a frown. "Uh uh." Scully had stood and was trying to pull Mulder up with her. She succeeded and let him drop onto the bed then sat next to him. "Are you nauseous?" she asked gently. He swallowed sluggishly. "I dunno." "All right." Scully pushed him down. "Stay here, I'm going into town. I'll be back in a couple minutes." While she talked, Mulder had managed to lift his head, a difficult task, to see her better, but now he dropped it. "Why?" "To get you medicine." She was already out the door. The day was frigid. A light rain still fell, but nothing compared to the downpour of the previous night. Scully drove into town, picked up a package of extra-strength Tylenol, the strongest thing the drug store carried. Realizing she was close to the lab, she stopped by there too. A young man who reminded her a bit of Pendrell, even though his coloring was opposite, greeted her. "We got the results back, Agent Scully. There were three sets of fingerprints on the bracelet; Katherine Martin's, you partner's--" Scully interrupted him. "Agent Mulder found it yesterday. He was holding it and was in a situation where he didn't have gloves for proper--" "I understand." The lab technician smiled warmly. "But there was a third set of prints that..." He pulled out a sheet of paper with a picture of a young girl on it as well as several lines of information about her. "matched this. Her name is, I'm sorry, WAS, Joanna Wasserman. She lived in Texas--" "Why the past tense?" "Well," His eyes narrowed. "That's the thing. Joanna was killed in 1993 in a hit and run while she was visiting Rutherford." He frowned. "Nobody seemed too devastated by her death, not even the parents. She was something of a trouble maker." Scully extended a hand. "Can I have that sheet?" "Sure." He gave it to her. "One minute, uh...here." He had picked up a folder from the cluttered countertop. "This gives details on her death... as well as her LIFE. Joanna was... well, not an ordinary child. She caused alot of stir around Texas." Scully accepted it. "Thank you. I'll return this by tomorrow." "No, no." He waved it off. "Keep that as long as you want." A mischievous smile lit his face. "Actually, I've been interested in Joanna's death since the case came in years ago. We don't really have that many hit and runs around here. Hardly any. And when her fingerprints show up in THIS case, well..." Scully smiled. "Thank you," she said and left. Motel 10:31 a.m. Holding the information about Joanna in one hand, Scully opened her motel door with the other. She was greeted by complete silence, a silence that worried her a little. She dropped Joanna's file on her dresser, grabbed her medical bag and the Tylenol she had bought at the drug store and headed into Mulder's room, not even pausing to knock. She found Mulder sitting up in bed, his glasses on, his journal sitting face down on his lap. A pen was in his hand, indicating Mulder had tried to write something, but Scully doubted he succeeded. Even now, his eyes weren't focused, something Scully knew Mulder could do to zone out when the pain got bad. "Mulder," Scully said gently, taking the pen out of his hand. Mulder blinked and swallowed, turning his head slightly toward Scully. But as soon as he turned, he shut his eyes against the pain of the movement. thought Scully as she watched him. Mulder opened his eyes and looked at her. "You were gone more than a few minutes," he said, and Scully was glad he wasn't as confused as he had been a hour ago. "Well, I stopped by the lab to pick up the bracelet I found in your hand last night. I had it dusted for fingerprints." Mulder squinted again and Scully got out her penlight. "I remember that bracelet," Mulder said slowly, "It looked like the one I saw Katie wearing." Scully shined the light into Mulder's eyes. He closed them against the light. "No, just stay still," she said, and he opened his eyes again. "The one and only. It had her fingerprints and yours all over it." She shut off the light, satisfied with what she saw. "Sorry about that," Mulder said sheepishly. "It's okay, Mulder. I understand. Follow my finger," she said, holding one finger in front of Mulder's eyes, and moving it back and forth. She took her finger down. "Good," she said shortly. "Is that all you found out from the bracelet?" Mulder asked. He was interested in discovering why it was there. Scully, who had been opening the Tylenol bottle, stopped. "Well, there was something else," she said carefully. "What?" "There was another set of fingerprints on the bracelet. A Joanna Wasserman's." Scully paused and looked thoughtful. "And?" "And, the thing is Joanna was a resident of Texas who did visit Rutherford." "Why the past tense Scully?" Mulder forgot the pain in his head for a second and just waited for Scully's answer. "The past tense, because she was killed in 1993 in a hit-and-run. I have the police report as well as a record of Joanna's life in my room. She was twelve years old when she died." The last sentence peaked something in Mulder's mind. "Just like Katie," he said thinking. "Can I see those reports, Scully?" He straightened up more, but grimaced when he moved his head. Scully went back to opening the Tylenol bottle. "Maybe you should wait awhile, Mulder. I mean, you can't move your head without pain, never mind reading small print. I know you tried writing before. From the looks of it you weren't successful." Mulder looked down at the book on his lap. "Yeah, well....." "I thought so." She handed him two pills. "Tylenol is the strongest thing they had without prescription. I'll get you some water." She went into the bathroom and reappeared a minute later with a glass of water. Mulder eyed the pills. "Without prescription?" he repeated, looking up at her. "Mulder, you have had enough concussions to know that you can't get any pain killers stronger than that because it could mask the symptoms of a serious head injury, even if I did write a prescription." Mulder sighed. He had already known that. "Okay," he said simply and downed both pills. Scully sat on the edge on the bed. "You must be really hurting if you are asking for a stronger pain killer," she said, gently, looking at him concerned. Mulder saw the look of concern. "Scully, I'm fine. Just a headache." "I'm sure it was just a headache when you fell out of bed this morning and could hardly remember your name," she said, not believing him for a second. Mulder just glared at her. She took the glass from him and put it on the nightstand. "How about just resting a little while longer, then I will let you see those files. You can't think with that headache now anyway." Mulder nodded. He remembered how he tried to write some case details into his journal, but how the words just swam in front of his eyes. Scully was right, maybe in a little while. But just a little while, because Mulder knew he had a theory in the still fuzzy brain of his. He just needed to put it together. Motel 12:24 p.m. Scully frowned as she glanced at the information once again. But it didn't change. "Twelve-year-old responsible for school fire," she read from a newspaper clipping that had been included with Joanna's file. "Twelve-year-old Joanna Wasserman reportedly admitted to being involved in the fire that burned Kendlebridge Middle School to the ground last week. The fire was a four alarm blaze, ripping through the building in seconds, injuring over 50 and killing 2, a teacher, Kerry Brooks, 32, and a student, Pete Robinson, 12." Scully took her glasses off and put the article down. She found it highly unlikely that a twelve-year old could be responsible, single-handedly, for such a huge fire. But it was in black-and-white, and this was not the only incident that Joanna had been linked to. Scully had read through half a dozen other articles that Joanna was mentioned in. And not one of those articles regarded her very highly. Even in the article about her death, the press seemed to mention the bad things Joanna had been involved in. Scully was beginning to realize why no one had real remorse when she died. Scully got up from the bed and walked over the dresser, where she had placed the bracelet Mulder found. Sealed in an evidence bag, she just looked at it. Scully hoped Mulder was feeling better soon. She was even up to listening to some of his theories. At first, Scully had thought that maybe Joanna had known Katie, those 5 years ago. But no such luck. The Martins' hadn't even lived here then. They moved in May 14, 1993. Joanna had been killed May 13, 1993. But the closeness in dates was enough to give Scully a shudder. She returned to the bed and spread the articles out one by one, and looked at them. She was so involved, she didn't hear Mulder approach her. "Scully?" Scully almost jumped when Mulder said her name. She turned to him. "Sorry, Scully. Didn't mean to scare you." He walked toward her, but put a hand to his head when he reached her. Scully touched the cut on his head. It had started to bleed again and looked a little red. "Feeling any better?" she asked. Mulder winced as she touched his cut. "I would if you would stop touching that spot," he answered. "Sorry, Mulder." She frowned. "Like I said last night, if you remember," she added, "That cut doesn't need stitches. But I'd like to close it with some butterflies, Mulder. You don't want to get an infection." For once, Mulder nodded and he sat on the bed. "So what's with the articles all spread out?" he asked as she approached him with some gauze in hand. "Just reading up a little on Joanna Wasserman." "Ouch, that stings," Mulder said as she dabbed antiseptic on his cut. "Sorry about that, Mulder, but it can't be helped." She paused a second, going back to cleaning his cut. "So what was she like? She must have been something to be mentioned in all of these articles," Mulder commented. "Yeah, she was something. Something bad. Not one of those articles regards her highly, not even the one about her death. Seems she was some kind of a young terror." "Like Carrie at the prom?" Mulder said with a smile. Scully smiled. "I guess you are getting back to normal." "So what we need to find out now is how her fingerprints got on the bracelet." "Yep," Scully said, finishing up with the cut. "There's probably a logical explanation." "Don't start me on that logical explanation crap, Scully. Sarah Martin's death doesn't have a logical explanation." "It could." Mulder let out a breath. "Normally I would love to argue logic with you Scully, but today it is giving me a headache." Scully bent down a little, so they were eye level. "Okay, Mulder." "I want to talk to the family again. Katie particularly." "Why Katie?" "She seemed a little nervous last time we saw her." "Her sister just died, Mulder." Mulder got up off the bed. "Yeah, but something about her is still bothering me. I have a pretty strong hunch. Humor me. Some of my hunches have worked." Scully smiled. "Ok, but if we turn up nothing, which is my bet, you owe me dinner. In a _decent_ restaurant." "McDonald's not on your list of decent restaurants anymore?" he teased. "Not when I watch you eat four Big Macs in one sitting." "It's quality food, Scully," he argued with a smile. "Yeah, quality food that spends quality time in your arteries." Mulder just grinned at that. He grabbed a folder. "Now I'm going to spend some quality time with these files. Want to call the Martins' and ask them when we come back?" "Ok," Scully agreed. "But, Mulder?" "Yeah?" he said turning around. "Go easy. If the words swim in front of you, stop reading. And tell me." Mulder smiled. "Yes, Doctor," he said as he headed back to his room. On the road Rutherford, NJ 2:31 p.m. "Mulder, put that down, you're starting to give ME a headache." Scully took her eyes off the road for a minute to study her partner; he was leaning forward, eye buried in the file, one hand absently rubbing his forehead. He didn't respond. A few minutes passed and Scully found herself going in circles around the town area. "Hey Mulder, I don't know about you but I'm starved. Could you put that down for a minute and help me find a restaurant?" Slowly, he looked up. "What?" "A restaurant." She stared at Mulder. "Are you sure you're up to this? We can interview them tomorrow if you want." She realized after she said it that "if you want" was not the right phrasing. "I mean--" "I know what you mean. Look, I'm ready. We can eat wherever you want, just let's get to the Martin's before 3:30." When she shot him and inquiring look he added, "I want plenty of time before Mr. Martin gets home. I saw his statistics in Sarah's file, they had her mother and father's vitals and all. Mr. Martin, Samuel "Buster" Martin, is six foot three, two hundred fifteen pounds, former high school boxer," Mulder recited. "I just don't wanna piss off Buster if that's okay with you." Scully smiled. "Okay, we'll get there early enough to avoid a run-in with ole Buster." Satisfied, Mulder closed the file folder, tipped back his seat and closed his eyes. Ten minutes later, when Scully found a decent looking restaurant called The Village Gourmet, and a parking space, her partner was breathing steadily. Scully walked out of the car, circled around to Mulder's side and lay a hand on his upper arm. "Mulder," she whispered. "C'mon, time to wake up, we're here." His eyes slowly drifted open, focused on her face. He squirmed under her touch and, yawning, stretched best he could in the cramped space of the car. She stepped aside so he could get out. "Let's get something to eat then go see Buster and friends." "Right," he mumbled. Inside the restaurant was heated, a nice contrast to the gusty November that reigned outside. Mulder and Scully seated themselves in a booth overhung by flowers and other greenery and Mulder leaned over the table to whisper in her ear, "This is gonna be healthy isn't it?" "I'm afraid so." Mulder groaned and settled back in his side of the booth. A perky waitress by the name of Leanna took their order. Scully got a grilled chicken sandwich with a variety of green things she called vegetables and Mulder referred to as "torture devices in third world countries". Mulder requested an extra bread basket and the wine list. "No wine, Mulder. You do not need wine. Order some real food." Mulder glared at her but didn't move to order anything. The waitress stood tentatively, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, then smiled politely and left. Mulder had brought the file along. "Scully, listen to this." "No! We're eating lunch. Can't you give me a few precious case-free moments a day? Just a few?" She felt bad as soon as she saw the look of pain that crossed Mulder's face. She knew he must still have a headache that would incapacitate any normal man and didn't need to be yelled at by her. "But... the bracelet..." "We had it analyzed already." He carefully studied his fingernails. "But... we haven't considered... why it was there. We know Katie didn't go up to the piano or anywhere near there. Everyone saw her sitting in her seat a few rows back. There was no way she could've gotten up without people noticing. Also, have you considered that Katie possibly visited the crime scene AFTER the time her sister was killed? And left her bracelet there by accident THEN?" Nothing was fitting together and he was frustrated and his head was pounding. "We just.... we need to consider....." He paused. "I just think we need to think about this more." Thinking was the last thing he wanted to do. Sleeping was number one on the list.. in the comfortable hotel bed. Mulder had never held beds in high respect but at this moment he wanted nothing more than a bed and a couple pillows and a blanket. Scully placed her hand over his. "Don't worry. Let's eat and we'll discuss this later." Mulder grimaced at the thought of eating. His stomach was already doing flip-flops. Katie Martin's room Rutherford, NJ 3:00 p.m. Katie scowled at her homework. "This is so stupid. I KNOW these answers, I KNOW how to do them... it just takes forever to write them all out." She gazed out the window and absently chewed a fingernail. She tried something. "I wish my homework was all done so I could talk on the phone." She squeezed her eyes closed. "I wish it was done, I wish it was done." She looked down at her paper. Twenty neat rows of number greeted her eyes. Alarmed, she sucked in a deep breath. "I wish I had long, blue hair." She leaned over to look in the mirror. "Shit! Change it back, change it back!!!! Uh, I wish I had my old hair back." She breathed a sigh of relief. "All right... I wish those stupid FBI agents and their boring clothes would leave us alone." The Village Gourmet Rutherford, NJ 3:04 p.m. Mulder had been zoning out. He suddenly gasped for air, sharply jerked his head up. "Scully," he whispered. Looking up from her chicken sandwich, Scully stared at him. "Yeah?" "Let's go back," he said breathlessly, and struggled clumsily to get into his trenchcoat. "Hey, hold on their a minute, G-man. I'm still eating, remember." She eyed him worriedly. "What's the matter? I thought you were so desperate to get to the Martin's." He shook his head wildly, then tried to push aside the stabbing pain. Scully frowned. "All right. Let me just finish up." Mulder looked around the restaurant quickly. His breathing seemed to becoming in short gasps. Scully immediately dropped her chicken sandwich and looked at him. "Mulder, are you all right?" she asked, trying to get a good look at his face. "What?" Mulder said turning around, distracted. He seemed on edge about something. Scully noticed a red flush in his cheeks, not unlike the one she had seen after his "nap" the day before. She frowned and reached out to touch his hand. It was unusually warm. She frowned. "What, Scully?" Mulder repeated. He shook his head again and scrunched his eyes against the pain. "You're right, Mulder. Let's go." Scully dumped some cash on the table and motioned for Mulder to get up. "To the Martins'?" he asked hopefully. "No back to the motel. You have a fever. I can tell from your eyes." Scully knew Mulder would argue at that. He didn't disappoint her, though it was a weak argument. Mulder shook his head. "I'm fine, Scully." Scully just glared him. "We're going back to the motel," she said in her best 'doctor's orders' voice. Scully was shocked to see Mulder stand up and say, "Ok." He started to walk back toward the car. Scully frowned even more, and stood there for a second. Then she picked up her purse and followed Mulder out. 3:23 p.m. Scully pulled up to the motel and glanced at her partner. He had fallen asleep in the five minutes that the drive back to the motel had taken. She turned the ignition off and quietly laid a hand on his forehead. Mulder stirred but didn't wake. He was warm, but not too bad. she thought, "Mulder," she said as she tapped his shoulder. "What?!" Mulder woke alarmed, ready to grab his gun. "We're here." Scully frowned again. "I want to get you into bed. I should have never let you come out today." Mulder looked out at a spot that Scully couldn't identify. He didn't seem to be paying attention. Scully pulled on his shoulder and he got out of the car and followed her to his room, without saying a word. Scully wished he was arguing because she was getting really worried. Mulder turned the key and opened his room and went to the bed and collapsed on it. He laid there with his eyes at half mast. "Scully, I never thought I'd say this, but, I'm glad I have this bed instead of my couch at home." Scully sat on the edge of the bed. "That doesn't sound like you," Scully said quietly. "Stay here. I'm going to get my thermometer and some aspirin." Mulder immediately rose up and that remark. "I'm okay, Scully. Just a little tired. Just a little nap and I'll be ready and raring to go. Then we can go to the Martins', regardless of Buster," he said, forcing a small smile. Scully couldn't help smiling a little. That sounded more like Mulder. She shook her head. "You are not going anywhere besides this bed," she ordered in her 'doctor's orders' voice again. "The Martins' can wait till your fever breaks." She threw his sweats at him. "Change into these, and when I come back you better not be anywhere else but in that bed, or you better pray I don't have my gun." Scully walked into her room the find her thermometer. Mulder watched Scully walk into her room. He took his suit jacket off. Scully returned a couple of minutes later, happy to see Mulder in his sweats and more importantly, in bed. "See, it's not that hard to listen," she said, smiling cheerfully. A little too cheerfully for Mulder's taste. Mulder yawned but still glared at Scully. He shivered and burrowed deeper into the covers. Scully took that opportunity to put her thermometer into Mulder's ear. He stared at her and frowned until it beeped. "101. Not too serious. It's probably your body telling you to get your ass into bed and stay there. God knows I am." She handed him two more aspirins and went into the bathroom and came back with a glass of water. Mulder sighed and downed the two pills in one gulp. He laid back down. Scully tucked the covers around him. "Don't worry, I'm sure it will be down by tomorrow," Scully reassured him. "It's not that Scully. I get the feeling that something is trying to get us off this case." "Mulder, you're being paranoid, as usual." "No, Scully. I'm sure of it. I got this feeling today th-" Scully cut him off. "I'll listen to your feelings later, Mulder. Now you are going to sleep." She shut the light off and walked to her room, closing the door behind her. Mulder closed his eyes, but didn't sleep. He knew something was trying to stop them. But what? And why? The Martin's House Rutherford, NJ 5:08 p.m. Much to Katie's relief, the FBI agents didn't return today. What scared her, though, was that she thought she had something to do with it. "Katie-- dinner." "All right," she called back. "Hmm..." She smiled mischievously. "I wish I could eat my dinner in the living room and watch TV. "Katie, honey? Would you like to eat in the living room tonight?" She raised her eyebrows, feigning surprise. "Uh, sure, mom. Why?" There was a long pause. "I don't know, honey. I just thought it would be nice." "Okay, I'll be right there." Katie sank back on her bed, confused. Her newly found "power" was nice... but she wasn't sure the extent of it. She lay back so her head was at the foot of her bed and her feet were on the pillow and studied the cracks in the paint on the ceiling. "Who's doing this?" She asked aloud. On second thought, "I wish I knew who was doing this." JOANNA the walls whispered. The walls whispered? "Joanna who?" Katie asked. "I wish I knew Joanna who." The rhyme made her shudder. JOANNA IS ENOUGH "I wish I knew why the walls were talking to me," she said and whimpered. "I wish I understood this all. I wish I knew who killed my sister." YOU DID YOU DID YOU DID "I did not," she said through clenched teeth. DID TOO "DID NOT!" "Katie, sweetie, who are you talking to?" Her mom said. "Uh.. no one, mom." She could picture her mom's frown. "Okay," she said. Katie thought. "Honey, dinner's getting cold." "Right, mom," Katie said. "I wish I could see you... Joanna." She ended in a whisper. YOU CAN'T. The voice was taunting. "Why not?" JUST BECAUSE. And then a silence filled the room. Motel Rutherford, NJ 6:00 p.m. From the next room Scully could hear retching. She grimaced and stepped through the conjoining doors. "Mulder?" she said gently. She found him on the bathroom floor, shivering in earnest. "Hey, c'mon." Scully knelt by him. "Let's get you back to bed." She lay a hand on his cheek, felt the heat radiating off him. The Martin's Rutherford, NJ 5:58 p.m. Katie was back in the privacy of her room. "I wish that FBI agent would die. The one with the boring tie, I wish he would die." NO YOU DON'T the walls taunted her. "Yes I do." THAT WOULD MAKE PEOPLE SUSPICIOUS THOUGH Katie frowned. "You think they're suspicious, now?" A pause then YEAH "Oh. Well." Katie fiddled with her sweatshirt, bringing the zipper up, then down, then settling on it somewhere in the middle. She fixed the hood, pushed it down, then to the sides, and finally solved the whole mess by pulling the sweatshirt over her head and throwing it on the floor. "I hate you," Katie said. YOU HATE YOUR SISTER "Do not. Did not. I DUNNO. You're the one who started this whole mess." YOU WANTED IT "Wanted," Katie reminded her. "WANTED. Past tense. I want Sarah alive now." I CAN'T BRING PEOPLE BACK TO LIFE. KILLING HER WAS YOUR CHOICE, YOU DEAL WITH THE AFTERMATH NOW. "I am," Katie said and sulked. After a couple minutes the walls suggested LEAVE THE FBI AGENT ALONE. HE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING Katie glared at the walls. "Katie! Phone call!" Katie took one more glance at the walls. "Coming Mom," she called and walked out of the room glancing at the walls again. She'd leave the FBI man alone. For now. Motel 6:09 p.m. Scully frowned as she looked at the thermometer in front of her. 103. She blinked. It didn't change. she thought, as her medical mind tried to come up with a cause. Mulder looked miserable. Scully thought, This was it. Scully placed the thermometer on the nightstand and went for Mulder's coat. She placed it next to him and sat down on the bed. She wiped some hair out of his face and spoke softly. "Come on, G-Man. We're going to the hospital." Mulder shook his head, wincing at the shooting pain it sent through his temples. "Please, no hospital," he croaked weakly. "Mulder, you have a temp of 103. You need to get checked out." She spoke gently. But Mulder shook his head again. Fever bright eyes met Scully's. Just like in the piano hall his eyes pleaded silently. Scully just shook her head. "The sooner you feel better, the sooner you can go back to your files. And you will feel better after a trip to the ER." Scully's own eyes pleaded. Her eyes softened. "Please, Mulder." Mulder just reached weakly for his coat. "Good boy," Scully said and handed it to him. ER 9:12 p.m. "Well, Dr. Scully, I'm not sure what's wrong with him. We'll know more when the test results come back. But there is good news, his temperature dropped a degree." Scully turned toward Mulder, who was laying down, with his eyes closed. He hadn't protested since Scully brought him here, except for the "look" he gave Scully every time a nurse approached him with a needle. "That's good to hear." Scully shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "How much longer do you think it will be for the bloodwork to come back?" "Maybe another 20 minutes or so. Meanwhile, I've want to start a course of IV antibiotics while we are waiting for the results," the doctor continued. Scully nodded. "Mulder won't like that. He _hates_ IVs." The doctor smiled. "Don't worry I've had patients like that before. I'm going to check on that bloodwork." The doctor walked away. Scully approached Mulder just as the nurse approached with the IV equipment. The nurse reached for his arm. Mulder promptly pulled his arm away. "No," he said and looked up at Scully. "I came. I gave blood. I let the doctor poke and prod me. But I'm not going to give in to an IV." Scully just raised her eyebrows and placed one hand over her gun. Five minutes later the IV was in. Mulder just frowned and looked at Scully with the same "look" he had been giving her all evening. Scully smiled a little. If Mulder was complaining, he must be feeling better. "I've got the results of the bloodwork, Dr. Scully." Scully turned to see the doctor holding a piece of paper in hand. He walked over to her and Mulder. "It looks like a virus. Of what origin, I'm not sure. I'd like to keep him overnight, have him on fluids. There are signs of mild dehydration." As soon as the doctor said "overnight" Mulder's eyes widened and pleaded with Scully. "Actually we've on a case and need to get back. Since I am a physician, I think I could care for him back at the motel. Monitored closely, of course," Scully added. The doctor nodded. "We'll pump him full of antibiotics here, and I'll write you a script for orals. They should be taken for 10 days. That should kill the infection." He handed Scully the prescription along with another. He pulled her away a little and spoke softly. "This one is for a sedative." Scully opened to her mouth to ask how he knew, but the doctor just smiled. "I've had patients like him before. He's exhausted, but I'm willing to bet my pension that he's isn't a good sleeper." Scully nodded. "Make sure he takes one tonight. A good night's sleep will help out the infection." Scully nodded again and thanked the doctor. She walked to Mulder and smiled. "Doctor says as soon as they get a good amount of antibiotics into you, we can go back to the motel. Good news?" "Thanks, Scully," Mulder said gratefully. "Anytime partner." Anytime seemed to more frequent then Scully would like, but with Mulder, what could she do? Motel 10:23 p.m. Scully sat on the edge of Mulder's bed, holding a glass of water in one hand, and two pills in the other. Mulder eyed the pills. "I thought I was supposed to take only one pill," he said suspiciously. "What's this other one?" Scully eyed him and replied calmly, knowing he would protest as soon as she said it. "It's a sedative, Mulder." Mulder shook his head strongly. A dull ache remained from the concussion. "I knew that doctor was letting me off a little too easily," he muttered. "I'm not leaving until you swallow both pills," Scully said firmly, feeling as if she were a mother trying to coax her child to take cough medicine. Mulder eyed them again. "Don't make me get my gun, Mulder," Scully teased. Mulder slowly took the two pills from Scully's hand and swallowed them. He laid back on the pillows. "I still want to talk to the Martins' and Katie," he said, his eyes straying to the files on his dresser. "There will be plenty of time to do that. But first you get well. If I bring you back damaged one more time, Skinner's going to be pissed at the insurance premiums you're costing the FBI. You think you expense reports are legendary," she said with a smile. Mulder just nodded. The sedative was taking effect. Mulder closed his eyes. "Good night, Scully," he whispered. Scully shut the lights. "'Night, Mulder." Scully laid a hand on Mulder's forehead before she left. It felt much cooler. She was still puzzled on how quickly Mulder had gotten sick, but now she was puzzled as how much better he seemed. she thought as she closed Mulder's door. Motel 8:04 a.m. "Rise and shine, Mulder." Scully was overly cheerful on a dreadfully overcast morning. When that go no response she shook his shoulder roughly. "C'mon, partner, we've got work to do. C'mon-- wake u-up." A groan emitted from the heap under the covers that was Mulder. He muttered something Scully recognized as, "Too early." "Nah, it's after eight." That earned her another groan. "Hey, I thought you wanted to talk to the Martins'." Mulder buried his face in the pillow. "I was just kidding." "Ooooh, I don't think so." She yanked the covers down. "Get up and take a shower, Mulder. Then we can get some breakfast and you can take your pills!" "Oh joy." With the covers gone and Scully's voice echoing in his once again pounding head, Mulder sat up. He ran a tongue over his teeth; they were sticky and dry. "What time did you say it was?" "Um... eight-ten." "Scu-lly," he whined. "Katie's at school, there's no point in going over." He dropped back on the bed, fully prepared to go back to sleep. "Nope, you see Mulder, it's a special day of the week called Saturday where the children don't go to school and the grown-ups-- the grown-ups with normal jobs-- don't work. It's a family time for love and play and--" "Oh, shut up." Mulder threw a pillow at her and stumbled into the bathroom. Scully heard the water running then a minute later a yelp. "SCULLY! You used up the hot water!" Scully grinned, knowing he couldn't see her. "Sorry!" She shrugged. The Martin's Rutherford, NJ 8:50 a.m. Samuel Buster Martin could hear his youngest daughter's voice from all the way downstairs. Buster stared down at his hands. He wasn't a sensitive man, but the thinking of Sarah still caused him to shudder. How could she have died just like-- "I wish they were dead." A pause. "Yes I do!" Pause. "I'm not taking this... why don't YOU fuck off?" Buster frowned. "Katie?" He walked down the hall and to the foot of the stairs. "Katie, come down, what are you doing?" She appeared from the door of her room, her face flushed, hair tousled. "In a minute dad," she said. He stood there, a confused expression glued to his face, listening. A minute later the heated conversation picked up once again. "Listen, I don't want to KILL him.... I just... will you let me FINISH?? I want to incapacitate him for a little bit. Yeah I know I... you... whatever, already have. Yes I'm perfectly aware this is an butt ugly sweater. I have to wear it cause Aunt Martha made it and it's polite to...." She sighed. "Yeah, I know. Don't worry, I won't wear it to school." Buster was so intrigued with his daughter's conversation with herself he didn't hear his wife come out of the kitchen. She stood behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "What're you doing, honey?" He turned around as best he could in her grip. "Just listening to Katie." "Hmm?" "Oh, nevermind. Honey, you know that sweater you're sister made Katie last year? Do you like it? Cause..." Restaurant Rutherford, NJ 8:40 a.m. "Mulder, may I remind you that just last night you were dehydrated?" He shrugged. He had swallowed his pills dry on the way to the restaurant, despite Scully's objections, and was now refusing to eat or drink anything. Scully sighed and tried a different approach. "Plus, this is the second time in two day you've gone to a restaurant and not ordered anything. In some places they kick you out for that." That earned her another indifferent shrug. "Fine," she said and returned her attention to her coffee. Across the table, Mulder was having a blast exploring straws and water. He dipped his plastic straw into the glass, squeezed with his third and fourth fingers and covered the top with his pointer. He then lifted the straw, pulled his pointer finger away and eased the vice that squeezed it shut. The water flowed out and back down into the cup in a single curved, fluid, graceful motion. Mulder then repeated the process, bringing the straw up a little high every time to see it he could get it to a point where the water missed the cup, or spread out of the neat traveling line. "Will you stop messing with that?" Scully pushed away her plate. "C'mon, let's get to the Martins' while it's still early." They walked through the parking lot, a thin layer of rain dampening their hair. "Hey, Scully?" "Mm?" She turned around. A cold wind picked up his hair in a cow lick. "Think we'll get to meet Buster?" Scully smiled. "Could be." The Martin Household 9:30 a.m. Scully sat on the floral printed couch. Mulder sat beside her. "Would you like something to drink?" asked Mrs. Martin. "Coffee?" "That would be great," Scully answered. Mulder just looked at Buster. He was a _very_ well built man. Mulder gulped. Mulder reminded himself. He put a hand to his head, still feeling the remains of last night's headache. Scully had told him that his fever had broken at about midnight last night. Not that he remembered. After he had gone to bed, the night was kind of a blur. "Are you all right, Agent Mulder?" Mulder looked up to see Mrs. Martin looking at him. She held out a cup of coffee. Mulder took it gratefully. "I'm fine," he said, but Scully put in her two cents in. "Agent Mulder's just nursing a cold," she explained. Mrs. Martin smiled knowingly. Mulder opened his mouth to start asking questions, when he was interrupted by a yell from upstairs. "You SAID you'd incapacitate him for awhile!! but..... yeah, he's h-" Mulder turned his head to the stairs, to see if that was where the noise was coming from. He frowned. Buster sighed. "Not again," said Christina Martin. Buster immediately went to the stairs. "KATIE!" he yelled, "What IS going on up there??" Some more muffled words followed. Then Katie appeared, at the top of the stairs, and looked down at her father. "Nothing, Dad. Sorry about the noise." Katie saw the two agents and her eyes narrowed, partically on Mulder. As soon as Mulder saw Katie Martin, his suspiciousions were confirmed. He knew she was hiding something. his tired mind told him. He needed to solve this case, but the fact that all he wanted to do was crawl into his bed and sleep till next week was _not_ helping him. "Katie, come downstairs please," Christina instructed. "Yes, Mom." Katie walked down slowly, not taking her eyes off of Mulder. Mulder watched Katie watch him as she walked down the stairs. Suddenly the room begun to spin. It swirled. Mulder blinked and shook his head, awakening a new bolt of pain Mulder thought he had seen the last of. He reached up to his head gingerly. The room suddenly got very dark at the edges of his vision. He squinted. "Katie, Agent Mulder wants....to you......nice." The words seemed to fade in and out, like an echo. Mulder felt himself start to teeter. He watched as everything went by in slow motion. He saw Scully rush to him, then nothing. Hospital 12:38 p.m. "Doctor Smith please report to emergency. Doctor Smith please report to emergency." The sharp antiseptic odor was the first thing Mulder was aware of. It was a smell he was growing _very_ tried of. "hmmm.." He tried to open his eyelids but they wouldn't cooperate. "Mulder?" Mulder pried his eyes open. He was greeted by a circle of swirling lights. In the middle of those lights was a blob of red. Mulder blinked his eyes a few times and was able to focus on the woman in front of him. "Hey," she said and smiled. "Hey." His voice sounded rusty. His mind tried to recall what had happened. He was in a hospital. But why? He remembered being at the Martins'.......then what? He must have looked confused, because Scully gripped his hand and smiled. "You collapsed at the Martins' and got treated to a first class ambulance ride," she explained. Then Mulder remembered. He was at the Martins' when he felt dizzy. In fact right before he passed out he remembered Katie looking relieved. Mulder frowned at that. "Katie...was.." He couldn't phrase it. It was a feeling he couldn't express. "Don't worry about talking to the Martins now, Mulder," Scully said gently, and was going to say more, when Mulder's door opened. The same doctor that had treated Mulder in the ER the night before walked in. "Looks like someone's awake." He paused at Mulder's bedside and opened his chart. "How are you feeling?" "I've been better," Mulder answered. "When can I get out of here?" Scully knew that would be the first question out of Mulder's mouth, and apparently, so did the doctor. "You just collapsed. I'm afraid you won't be going home tonight. We still don't know what triggered your collapse, Agent Mulder. The virus I treated you for last night seems to be in check. I'd like to keep you overnight for observation. If all checks out, you leave first thing tomorrow morning." "Tomorrow morning? Look Doctor--" Mulder looked at his tag. "Dr. Andrews. I have things to do. A case to investigate." "The case can wait, Mulder." Scully pushed him gently back into the bed. Mulder was still weak; he didn't put up much of a struggle. "Listen to the doctor. A night in the hospital could do you some good." Scully had used her own 'doctor's orders' voice. The voice Mulder usually backed down to. Today was not an exception. "One night," he said, "One night." "Good," the doctor said. "You also seem to be dehydrating again, Agent Mulder. The best thing to do when you are sick is drink liquids." He looked down at Mulder. "I'm figuring you weren't doing that, right?" Mulder shrank back down in the bed. "No he hasn't," Scully answered for him. "Well, then, you just earned yourself an IV, Agent Mulder. I'll send Peggy in to set it up. I'll be back to check on you later." Mulder looked at Scully, his eyes taking on the familiar pleading look. Scully shrugged. "Sorry, Mulder. One night won't kill you." "Yeah, right," he muttered. This was the day from hell. The Martin's Rutherford, NJ 11:34 Katie lay face down on her bed crying. "It's not fair!" She pounded her fists on the couch. THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED "But it's not ME," she told the walls. "The Katie I know wouldn't do that. The Katie I know wouldn't--" She broke off sobbing. YOU WANTED THE FBI AGENT KILLED. I TOLD YOU NOT TO BUT... She looked up suddenly. "He's not DEAD, is he?" NOT YET "Yet?" Katie sniffed. "I changed my mind, I don't want him dead. Make him okay." IT'S UP TO YOU. LISTEN. YOUR PARENTS THINK YOU'RE A PSYCHO TALKING TO YOUR ROOM. WE NEED A NEW WAY OF COMMUNICATING. I WANT YOU TO TRY THIS. TELL ME "I AM KATIE" "I am Katie," said Katie, very softly. NOW, SAY IT THE NEW WAY. THINK IT REALLY HARD. THINK "I AM KATIE" "I am Katie," Katie said again. NO, NO, NO. THINK IT. DON'T SAY IT. YES!!! RIGHT! NOW, THINK SOMETHING ELSE TO ME. WELL... I CAN'T TELL YOU THAT RIGHT NOW. I TOLD YOU. JOANNA. A pause. JOANNA WASSERMAN. AND NO, I'M NOT ALIVE. I DIED IN 1993. I KNOW CAR. HIT AND RUN. I THINK IT WAS DELIBERATE BUT... I DUNNO. Katie thought. The walls were silent for a minute, then they said very softly. I JUST DON'T KNOW. Hospital 1:35 a.m. Mulder was struggling desperately to keep his eyes open. They had given him a sedative what felt like hours ago-- looking at his watch he saw it was only twenty minutes ago-- but so far he'd managed to stay awake. Scully was back at the hotel and the nurses had FINALLY left him alone so he planned to get up at 2:00 a.m. when he knew nobody would bother checking on him. He knew Scully had left the case file on the chair across the room, so he'd have to dislodge the IV first, but then he could turn on the light and get some work done. He pressed down the Indiglo on his watch again. 1:42. He yanked on his IV line until it pulled out and left it dangling, dripping onto the floor. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed he had to rest his head between his knees for a minute so he wouldn't pass out. Taking a deep breath, he slid down to the floor, finding it smooth and cold under his bare feet. He shivered and quickly made his way over to where his bag with his clothes was. She had left him jeans and a T-shirt. Mulder grabbed a tissue from a convenient box on the window sill and pressed it up against the spot where his IV had been. He quickly changed into the jeans and T-shirt and made himself as comfortable as possible in the impossibly uncomfortable visitor's chair. Spreading the folder in his lap, he rummaged in the bag, found his glasses, slipped them on and stared down. "Oh no," he groaned. The words swam before him. He squinted, tried to focus his eyes, to no avail, the words were barely there now, just dark blurs on a white surface. He then had to squeeze his eyes shut when his body threatened to either pass out or throw up... or both. Mulder whimpered as pain shot through his head and he felt like melting into the upholstery and disappearing. His shoulder's slumped and his head fell back to the top of the chair. The Martin's Rutherford, NJ 2:03 a.m. Katie couldn't sleep so she talked to Joanna. She could almost see Joanna's frown. I'M SORRY... I CAN'T TAKE THINGS BACK. Katie sat up. OH, YEAH. Joanna reassured her. I JUST GAVE HIM AN INTRICATE VIRUS THE DOCTORS WON'T BE ABLE TO TREAT SO HE'LL JUST HAVE TO... ROUGH IT OUT, I GUESS. I'D SAY TWO-- THREE WEEKS Katie groaned. SORRY. Hospital 8:35 a.m. "He what?" "Apparently he pulled out his IV, got out of bed, got dressed and tried to read this." Dr. Andrews held up a brown folder. "Damn," Scully muttered, grabbing the folder. "I knew I left it here." She sighed. "So what exactly happened after that?" "The night nurse found him collapsed in the chair. Most likely the combination of the Valium, exhaustion, and the illness he seems to be suffering from. Of course, I don't know the real story. He's still unconscious. But I did order a strong dose of Valium so he'd sleep last night. He sure can fight that stuff off." Scully nodded in agreement. "So, how is he health-wise?" She looked up to face Dr. Andrews. "Well, he started to run a temp last night. Nothing major. About 101. It went down to 100, but there's no way I'm discharging him this morning. And I'm telling him that as soon as he wakes up." Scully glanced down the hall toward Mulder's room. He wasn't going to like this. "He'll put up a fight, but it's for the best. Have any idea what's causing this?" Dr. Andrews dropped his eyes down and shook his head. "Nope. Tests are showing it's a virus, though it's different from the virus I treated him for the other night.. This one I've never seen. I've started him on a course of IV antibiotics. Hopefully they should help." "I hope so, Dr. Andrews. Mulder's insurance premium is high enough." Dr. Andrews held up a stack of papers. "So I've heard." They both laughed. Hospital 8:55 a.m. "mmmm." Mulder turned his head, sending a sharp pain from his head down through his spine. His head hurt. His eyes hurt. Hell, everything hurt. He laid with his eyes closed, afraid of what the light would do to them. So instead he tried to remember what happened. The last thing he remembered was going to the chair to read the file. He remembered tearing his IV out, changing and getting his reading glasses. He had to know what was going on. He struggled to open his eyes, blinking against the light. Finally his eyes adjusted and he looked around. His hospital room. He looked down at his arm. The IV was back. He glanced down at his chest. The nurses had obliviously exchanged his jeans and shirt for a hospital gown. Mulder groaned again. The only thing that perked his spirits was his remembering Dr. Andrews said he could leave today. Speak of the devil. Dr. Andrews chose that moment to walk in, holding a stack of papers. Scully followed behind. She had been talking about him to the good doctor no doubt. "Morning, Mulder," Scully said, sitting at the edge of the bed. Dr. Andrews had placed the papers down on the table next to Mulder's bed and had grabbed his chart. "Care to explain what happened last night, Agent Mulder?" Dr. Andrews said, opening the chart and making some notes with his pen. "Would you believe that I couldn't sleep?" Mulder deadpanned. "Haha, Mulder. Very funny." Mulder was sure if Scully had a pillow she'd throw it at him. "I don't appreciate patients who are under strict orders to rest, taking things into their own hands by ripping out their IV and deciding to do some late night studying." Mulder looked toward Scully. "Don't look at me Mulder, I agree with the man." "Great, gang up on me," he mumbled. "So what time am I getting out of here today?" Dr. Andrews closed Mulder's chart. "You're not." "What?" Mulder asked. He _had_ to get out of here. This was slowing turning into the case from hell. "I'm not discharging you today." Scully eyed Mulder and excepted an outburst. But Dr. Andrews beat Mulder to the punch. "I'm not discharging you because you developed a fever last night. There are signs of the virus I diagnosed you with the other night in the ER. Looks like the antibiotics were a temporary fix. Hopefully we can find the right one. Then when your fever breaks, and only then, can you go home. Hopefully that will be within the next 24 hours." Mulder opened his mouth to protest, but Dr. Andrews waved him off. "Doesn't matter anyway, Agent Mulder. I signed you off active duty and talked with your Director. I'll check back later." And with that Andrews left the room. "I think he's the worst yet," Mulder said under his breath. Scully just shook her head and looked him in the eyes. "Did he really talk to Skinner?" he asked Scully. Scully nodded. "Afraid so, Mulder." "But who gave him the number?" Mulder looked at her suspiciously. "Sorry about that, Mulder. But you need the rest. Skinner agreed I could handle the investigation for a couple of days." "But, Sculleee," Mulder started. "I can handle it, Mulder. It's not like we are getting anywhere, anyway. The case will probably still be unsolved in two days." "Can I at least read the file?" Scully sighed, but handed over the file. "Fine, but you better stay out of trouble." Mulder was already reaching for his glasses. "Yes, Mom." The Martins' Rutherford, NJ 9:00 a.m. The Martins studied their breakfast intently, fully expecting it to get up and start reciting the Constitution at any moment. Buster finally broke the silence. "Katie--" His wife cut him off. "Katie, we're worried about you. First you're sitting in your room all day talking to no one and now you haven't said anything but you keep staring at the walls. What's happening?" she rambled. she begged her breakfast. She looked up at the wall. YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN NOPE, JUST YOU. DON'T WORRY, IT'S OKAY. JUST MAKE UP SOMETHING. "Katie, what's going on?" Buster demanded. He put down his fork and gave his daughter a glare that said no one was leaving the table till she started talking. Katie bit her lip. "Uh... well, you see, I have a big Geometry test." "Geometry." Her father repeated. "Geometry," she said. "Sweetie, I thought you took Algebra," her mother chimed in. A look from Buster silenced her. "Is that it?" Buster said. She nodded vigorously. "Mm hm." Buster and his wife exchanged looks. Hospital 12:07 p.m. Scully entered the room to find her partner asleep. Just not in the conventional position. He was sitting cross legged on the bed-- he had somehow acquired a pair of sweats and lost the hospital gown fashion statement-- various folders and papers spilling out of his lap, a pencil poised in hand, reading glasses on his nose. She stepped over and looked down at his notebook. He had scribbled down several barely legible notes which she struggled to read. Connection Joanna Wasserman-- Katie Martin. Do they communicate? Look up on Joanna Wasserman, full history. Ask Scully... She couldn't read anything after that. He must've been half asleep by that point. She looked at him and frowned; his face was death pale besides the crimson fever spots on his cheeks and ears. Laying a hand on his forehead, she gasped. She marched quickly down the hall and stopped at the nurse's station. "Excuse me, where's Doctor Andrews?" she asked breathlessly. One nurse looked up. "Down the hall, there..." Scully had already run down the hall and into a room with a patient with a broken leg. "Doctor Andrews, may I have a word with you?" He looked up. "In a minute, Doctor Scully." Scully waited impatiently by the wall until he was ready to leave. "Doctor Andrews, have you been in to see my partner this morning?" The doctor frowned. "Not since you left... Is he responding well to the new medication?" "Hardly. His fever's spiked, come see this. And why did you let him work? His head is killing him as it is--" "I'm SORRY, Doctor Scully," Andrews said brusquely. "We do have other patients and I wasn't even aware you had left." "Yeah, well, I had to do an interview." She snorted. "The Martin's youngest daughter's gone nuts. Oh, but don't tell Mulder, I don't want him worrying about that now.... and believe me, he'll be out of bed in a second if he knew there was something wrong with Katie." The Doctor gave her a strange look and she waved her hand. "Nevermind, let's just go see him." Andrews clucked when he saw his fever bright cheeks. "Damn, you're right, we need to try a new medication. Let's get all those folders off of him then I'll check him out." It took several minutes to get the various files and folders and notebooks of him, but pretty soon they had him lying down on his back. He was oblivious to them. Doctor Andrews frowned when he read the thermometer. Scully looked over his shoulder. "One oh three point four," she said softly. "Let's get him off this medication. Then I'll have to do some more tests and find something different." "He won't like that." "I know. Let's get him more comfortable." He directed Scully to take off his sweatshirt and went into the small bathroom to dampen a washcloth. When he returned, Mulder was shirtless and Scully had pulled a chair over-- the same one Mulder had escaped to the previous night-- and was sitting by his side, brushing his damp hair with her fingers. Andrews handed her the washcloth and she gently bathed his face, arms and chest, then left it on his forehead. Andrews put a hand on Scully's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Doctor Scully. I'm going right now to try to find some new medication. But..." "What?" Scully looked up. He sighed. "I'm not sure if I'll have any success. We still don't know what this virus is, these first two medications we used were simple guesses, but I have a feeling we're not even close. I just..." He sighed again and left. The Martin's Rutherford, NJ 1:00 p.m. THE LADY FBI AGENT CAME TODAY Joanna said. OF COURSE. I HAD TO LISTEN TO YOU MAKE A FOOL OF YOURSELF TALKING TO HER. On second thought, She added quickly. I DUNNO. I GUESS YOUR PARENTS CALLED HER UP AND SAID THEIR DAUGHTER WASACTING STRANGE AND SHE SHOULD COME AND INTERROGATE YOU. BUT... I THINK IT'S THE MALE AGENT, AGENT MULDER, WE SHOULD REALLY BE WORRYING ABOUT. EXACTLY. YOU DON'T THINK PEOPLE WILL SOMEHOW CONNECT YOU TO AGENT MULDER? WELL... I DO. OF COURSE. YOU WOULD BE TOO IF YOU HAD BEEN KILLED WHEN YOU WERE 12. After a minute, she said slowly I KNOW. Hospital 2:04 p.m. Mulder woke up around two. He was confused and thirsty and wanted to know where Scully was. "Hey," She squeezed his hand. "I'm right here, G-man." He blinked his eyes several times. "Scully," he said hoarsely. "Water." She found the Styrofoam cup of ice chips and held out a spoonful of chips and brought them up to his lips. He shook his head, wincing. "Water," he demanded, his voice gravely. "Try this first." Scully pushed the spoon into his mouth. He closed his eyes and let them melt slowly in his mouth. "Now water." Scully shook her head. "Take it slow, Mulder." She spooned him more ice chips. He leaned back, exhausted. "I feel like shit," he said slowly. "Yeah, I know." "How could you?" he said. Despite the ice chips, his throat was painfully dry again and he began to choke. "Whoah, shhh." Scully quickly gave him more ice. He closed his eyes. "Doctor Andrews is trying to get some new medicine for you. The old one wasn't any good." Mulder didn't respond but sank back down in the bed. Scully watched Mulder sink back into the pillow, his eyes at half-mast. He looked up at her, and she could see him battling to stay awake. She brushed his bangs aside. "Go to sleep, Mulder," she said gently. Mulder just nodded and closed his eyes. After making sure Mulder was asleep, Scully got up and her eyes strayed to the folders that she and Dr. Andrews had moved to the window sill. She picked them up and one fell out. It was the same paper Mulder had scribbled his notes on. Scully didn't know about the connection between Katie and Joanna, but one thing Mulder wrote did make sense. She should go find out more about Joanna's death. Glancing at Mulder one last time, she backed out of the room. She left her cell phone number at the nurses station so she could be reached and left. Police Station 3:15 p.m. "Yeah, I remember Joanna Wasserman. Here one week and already causing trouble. I caught her shoplifting at the candy store." Scully had come to the police station, hoping to find someone that would remember Joanna and her death. She hit jackpot with Detective Linda Parks, the officer in charge of that investigation. "I read about that," Scully answered. "What about the day she died?" Detective Parks nodded. "I remember that. Poor girl was just crossing the street. She got hit dead on. Driver fled the scene. Still haven't found him." She shook her head, then stopped in thought. "What?" Scully asked. "It was just a shame how her parents didn't really get too upset at the news. In fact they seemed kind of relieved. I even got a little suspicious, but turned up nothing. Joanna may have not been an angel, but still...." Scully nodded, writing things in her notebook. "Think I could talk to Joanna's parents?" Parks walked to her desk and shuffled some papers, finally producing one for Scully. "Here's their number in Texas." "Thanks." Scully put the number in her pocket and started to leave. "Agent Scully?" "Yes?" She turned around. "I thought you were investigating Sarah Martin's death. What does that have to do with Joanna?" Scully just smiled lightly. "I'm not at liberty to say." Parks nodded. Scully breathed a sigh of relief as she walked out. That detective just looked a little too much like Detective White. The car 3:35 p.m. Scully was just about to put her key into the ignition when her cell phone rang. She put the keys down and flipped it open. "Scully." "Dr. Scully?" Scully immediately recognized the voice as Dr. Andrews. She sat up straighter, worry furrowing her brow. "How is he?" she asked immediately, her voice trembling a little as she spoke. "His fever spiked up to 104. And his breathing is a bit labored. I'm afraid that the infection may have spread to his lungs. We were able to get his temperature down half a degree, but now he's awake and won't let us touch him anymore until you get here." Scully sighed. "I'll be there right away." She hung up and placed her cell phone on the seat beside her. Then she put the key into the ignition and sped off. Hospital 3:55 p.m. "Where's Scully?" It was the hundredth time Mulder had asked that question and he still wasn't getting a straight answer. The nurse who was poised to draw some blood just shrugged. "She's on the way, Agent Mulder." Mulder looked up and saw Dr. Andrews walk in. "How about letting us draw some blood then?" Mulder just shook his head. He knew they had already poked and prodded him while he was asleep. And he wasn't happy to wake up and find, in addition to the IV, he also had an oxygen tube under his nose. He felt like shit and wanted everyone to leave him alone. But most of all he wanted Scully. "Mulder, stop being a pain in the ass and let them draw blood." Mulder smiled. He'd know that voice anywhere. He looked toward the door and saw her standing there, not looking very happy. Mulder reluctantly let the nurse take his arm. Dr. Andrews wrote some more on Mulder's chart and left. Five minutes later, the nurse left as well. "You're not happy till you have pissed off every hospital in the country, are you?" Scully sighed and sat on the bed. "Where did you go?" Scully sighed again. She wouldn't tell him about Katie, but she could tell him that she went to the police station. "I went to the police station. Talked to a detective who investigated her death." Scully also failed to mention the likeness she had to Detective White. Mulder laid back on the pillows and looked at her. "Guess you read my notes." "The ones that were legible, yes." Scully smiled. "I found nothing out of the ordinary. She was hit while crossing the street. Though her parents did not seem to saddened by her death. Because of that they were investigated. Came out clean." Scully conveniently left out the fact she had the Wassermans' phone number. Tell that to Mulder and he would be on the phone in a moment. And all she wanted him to do was rest. "I'm surprised to see you fighting back," Scully admitted. "Doctor Andrews says your fever went up a degree." Mulder grimaced at that. Obviously he had been told that. Scully noted the oxygen cannula under his nose. She knew Mulder hated those. She could also hear him breathing a little heavier after each time he spoke. He didn't need a long discussion now. She walked over to him, sitting next to him on what was coming to be known as "her spot" and tucked the blankets around him closer. "Listen. This is tiring you out. Fighting the doctor is tiring you out. We can talk later." Mulder looked up at her. For a minute he didn't speak. Then he nodded. "But one more thing," he said, then pausing to take a breath. "What?" Scully asked, hoping it wasn't about Katie. No such luck. "Did you talk to the Martins' since I've been here? To Katie?" "No," she lied. "Go back to sleep." She watched Mulder's eyes slip closed. She felt bad about lying to him, but she had to. She just had to. Hospital Rutherford, NJ 4:17 p.m. Scully sat by Mulder's side for a while, to make sure he wouldn't wake up again, then went downstairs in search of a decent cup of coffee and a pay phone. She found the coffee-- well, it was ALMOST recognizable as coffee--without much trouble in the cafeteria, and though it wasn't exactly eligible to be called "coffee" she drank it all and felt a little better. Pulling a chair up to the phone booth, she sat down and, pulling out the slip of paper with the Wasserman's number, dialed in the numbers and charged it to the Bureau. Well, Mrs. Wasserman was not the happiest thing running around on two legs. "What do you want?" she greeted Scully cordially. "Ah, yes. I'm Agent Scully with the FBI--" She was cut off. "We already answered all the questions that needed to be answered for the Rutherford Police. No, we had no part in the death of our daughter and yes, we are devastated by her departure." She spat out the last word. "Mrs. Wasserman, I understand that and believe me you have my condolences on the death of--" "Oh, get on with it." Scully cut to the chase. "Recently, we found a piece of evidence in the study of a murder case, the murder of a Sarah Martin, a bracelet, and we found Joanna's fingerprints on it. Now--" "Oh right, so now you think she's ALIVE. Am I responsible for that, too?" Scully cleared her throat, trying to keep her cool. "Ah, no, Mrs. Wasserman. I was just wondering if you know if your daughter ever met or had a relationship with a girl named Katie Martin." "Are you now suggesting my daughter was a homosexual?" Scully ground her teeth. "Not that kind of relationship." "Is your husband home?" she said. "Don't bring my husband into this. You know what? I don't have to talk to you. I have to go. I'm going now, goodbye." she said brusquely. "GOOD-bye to you too," Scully said. When Scully entered the room, a crowd had gathered around Mulder. "What the...?" Scully pushed through and saw Mulder thrashing around on the bed. "Clear out, people. Give the man some air." Doctor Andrews looked like he was either directing traffic or herding cattle. He looked up pleadingly when Scully came into view. "I don't know what to do with him; he's pushing away everyone. He's gonna hurt someone." "He's sleeping, damnit," Scully said between clenched teeth. She pushed past Doctor Andrews and the few remaining nurses and doctors and sat on the edge of Mulder's bed. Gently grabbing his wrists, she held them together, noticing he had dislodged the IV. "Mulder," she said. "It's just a dream. It's okay, shhhh." He had started to whimper and still wasn't responding to her. His legs began trembling, then his whole body, until she could barely keep her hold on his wrists. "Mulder, Mulder. Shhhh, it's okay. C'mon Mulder, wake up now. It's Scully, I'm here." As soon as she said her name his eyes shot open. "Scully." His voice sounded awful, rusty and sore. "You're here Scully. You left." "I know, shhhh." He was still shaking uncontrollably. "Relax, it's okay. It was just a dream. It was--" "Joanna," Mulder said. "She's it." "What?" "Joanna," he said again, then gasped for breath. "Okay. Relax, I'm going to get the doctor." Scully watched him warily as she walked out of the door. Doctor Andrews was standing right outside of it. "His breathing is getting worse. He needs to calm down," Scully said quietly to the doctor. Andrews simply nodded and walked toward the nurses station. Scully walked back into the room. Mulder was still breathing hard and gasping. Scully went back to her place on the bed. "Shhhh, Mulder. Relax. The doctor is going to give you something to help," she whispered gently. "No more," he rasped, and paused to take a breath, "sedatives." Scully just looked at him and stroked his face gently. The action was simple, but it made Mulder feel a hundred times better. His breathing relaxed a little and he found himself just staring into Scully's blue eyes. He lost himself in those eyes. Scully just whispered "it's okay" over and over. She walked Mulder calm a bit and saw Dr. Andrews walk in behind her, a needle in his hand. Mulder didn't seem to notice, he just stared at Scully, as if she was the only thing there. Scully motioned with the back of her hand for Andrews to give her the needle. Scully keep her eyes on Mulder and whispered, "it's okay" as she reattached Mulder's IV and injected the contents of the syringe into the line. "Joanna," he whispered, as he closed his eyes. Scully just pushed some hair out of his face and nodded. Martin Household 7:15 p.m. Scully had waited by Mulder's bedside for awhile, just watching him sleep. Mulder still tossed and turned, even in a drugged sleep. Scully didn't want to leave him, but Doctor Andrews insisted she should get something to eat and that he would be fine for a couple of hours. Scully had reluctantly left Mulder's side and grabbed a bite to eat at the McDonald's she and Mulder had dined in their first night, then had headed to the Martins'. Why she headed there, she didn't know. But when Mulder had said "Joanna" she had to admit, she got chills. So she was going to prove to herself--as well as Mulder that there was nothing going on with Katie. Christina Martin welcomed her in warmly, asking her to sit down. Buster sat down on the chair across from her. He had a serious expression on his face. "Agent Scully," he began, "We're glad you came. Katie's been acting strange." "My poor girl's talking to walls and taking geometry now," Christina muttered. "I see," Scully said, choosing her words carefully. "Can I talk to Katie?" "Of course." Buster walked to the stairs. "KATIE!" Katie heard her father call her from her bedroom. YES, BUT DON'T WORRY. DON'T WORRY I'LL TELL YOU WHAT TO SAY. "Coming Dad!" Scully heard the "coming dad!" and then Katie bounded down the stairs, landing on the last one quite loudly. Katie stopped it front of Scully and smiled. "Yes?" she said innocently. "Agent Scully wants to talk to you, Katie," her father said. Katie nodded. "Shoot." Katie directed at the walls. YEP, it echoed back. Scully launched into the easy questions, like "What happened when Sarah died?", and "Where were you?" and questions like that. Katie relaxed until Scully asked her last question. "Katie, have you ever heard of a Joanna Wasserman?" Katie paused and looked at the walls. SAY YOU HEARD OF ME FROM THE NEIGHBORS. JUST TALK. "I heard of her. From the neighbors. Just talk though," Katie said smoothly, crossing her fingers behind her back. Scully noted that Katie had her hand behind her back. "Just talk?" Scully repeated. "Just talk." Katie looked toward the walls. IT WILL. Scully opened her mouth to ask about it further, when she was interrupted by her cell phone. "Excuse me," she said as she got it out. "Scully." "Doctor Scully, I think you ought to get down here." Scully sighed. "What happened?" Scully heard Dr. Andrews sigh as well. "Agent Mulder is awake and well, let's just say, my nursing staff is threatening to quit on me." Scully again, louder. "Okay, I will there soon. How is his health faring?" "Not well. Fever's down to 102, but his breathing seems to be getting worse. His lack of cooperation is not helping." "I'll be there in ten minutes." Scully disconnected the line. As soon as she did she could swear she heard something say "I told you so." Hospital 7:50 p.m. As soon as she walked out of the elevator, Scully knew Mulder was being a pest. "No! Leave me alone!" she heard from the direction she knew Mulder's room was in. It didn't take brainpower for her to know it _was_ Mulder. She entered the room and found Mulder thrashing about on the bed. He looked terrible. His face was sheet white, with the exception of the red patches that resided on his cheeks. Beads of sweat covered his forehead. He had managed to dislodge his IV again and she saw Dr. Andrews trying to reattach it. Scully would never forget the look of relief that Andrews gave her when she reached Mulder's bedside. Scully just smiled in return. Mulder's face light up when he saw her at his bedside. Scully took the IV equipment from Andrews hand and said "Allow me." Andrews shot her another grateful look and left her and Mulder alone. "I thought he'd," Mulder wheezed, "never leave." "I'm sure he wanted to Mulder. You're not actually the world's greatest patient." She heard him gasping and noticed he had removed the oxygen cannula and it was sitting in his lap. "Mulder, you shouldn't take this off," she scolded as she picked it up. "Scully, I hate those things," he protested. Scully just raised her eyebrows in the look she had perfected long ago. She repositioned the oxygen cannula under his nose and pulled out the IV on his hand. "Yeah, Scully, now you're thinking," Mulder said grinning. She looked up at him. "You wish. You pulled on it too much. I'll have to start a new one." Mulder grimaced as she slid the new needle in. Scully attached the IV and then looked at him seriously. "I don't know if I can ever leave you alone again," she said. Mulder suddenly found a part of the wall very interesting. A few minutes of ilence passed between them. Finally Mulder mumbled something Scully couldn't make out. "What did you say?" she asked innocently. He turned to her. "I said, I'm sorry for being such a pain in the ass. Really." "Does that mean you will behave?" Mulder's fever-bright eyes twinkled. "I'll try." "Yeah, well, try hard." She got up and walked toward the window and looked out at the sky. She didn't see any stars. Not even a tiny little sparkle. she thought ruefully. "How's the case?" Mulder voice brought Scully out of her own thoughts. She turned to him. "I don't know if I should talk about it," Scully said matter-of-factly. "I'll be good," Mulder promised. A few couched escaped him then. Scully looked on concerned. Mulder laid back down on the pillow. "I'm ok," he reassured her. "How about the case?" "Mulder, the case is doing just about as well as you are." More silence passed between them. "Well, I do have theories. But since the nurses seem to be coming with needles a lot, I haven't really been able to think long enough. At least with a clear head." Then he reached the hand without the IV up to his head gingerly. "That isn't pounding." "That's okay Mulder. I don't know if want to hear your 'theories' anyway," she teased. Then her face turned serious. She had to tell him something so that he would relax a little. "I talked to Katie today," she said quietly. Mulder picked his head up. "And?" he asked and winced when a pain ran through him, forcing him to put his head down. "And, she was acting a bit.....strange," Scully admitted, hoping this won't affect his health. "How so?" He asked, shutting his eyes against another pain. "Before I go on, I'm going to remind you that you are off active duty. By order of the AD." "I know, Scully." "Just keep it in mind. She was answering quickly. When I asked her about if she had heard of Joanna, she glanced at the walls, put her hand behind her back, and said she had heard about through neighbors. 'Just talk' were her words." "I was right-" Mulder started, when he suddenly gasped. He looked at Scully. "Scu.." He couldn't even get her name out; he didn't have enough air. Scully bolted out of the room calling for the doctor. The Martin's Rutherford, NJ 7:55 p.m. "What do you mean you're just gonna deprive him of air for a couple minutes???" MIND SPEAK!!! Joanna reminded her. YOUR PARENTS THINK YOU'RE CRAZY ENOUGH AS IT IS. Her voice calmed, WELL, JUST TO STOP THAT PARTNER OF HIS. SHE KNOWS TOO MUCH AND SHE'S ABOUT TO TELL IT. RELAX, I WON'T KILL 'IM I WON'T. HERE, YOU WANT HIM TO BREATHE? YOU GOT IT Hospital 7:56 p.m. Doctor Andrews was running around flustered when Mulder started coughing. Scully had remained at Mulder's side the whole time, trying to convince him that breathing couldn't be THAT hard. The doctor had checked and there was nothing blocking his passage and nothing he had choked on, but he wasn't able to take a breath for some reason. Almost like his throat was squeezed to a point where no air could get through. So when he started hacking and gasping for air and his face lost the sickening blue tinge, it was a relief for Scully. "Deep breaths," she cooed, rubbing his back to try to cease the ceaseless coughing. The Martin's Rutherford, NJ 7:59 p.m. THERE. DONE WELL, NOT FULLY HEALED. HE'LL PROBABLY PASS OUT IN ABOUT A MINUTE FROM THE LACK OF OXYGEN FOR SO LONG YEAH, BUT MY HANDYWORK ALWAYS HAS SOME.... UH, AFTERMATH Katie leaned back against the wall. NO, NO, NO. I'D NEVER DO ANYTHING PERMANENT. WELL, NOT UNLESS YOU ASK ME TO. JUST ENOUGH TO STOP THE TRUTH FROM GETTING TO HIM "The truth..." Katie said aloud, quietly. Hospital 8:04 p.m. After several terrible moments of hacking and gasping to get his air back, on the verge of hyperventilation, Mulder passed out. It was probably for the best. Doctor Andrews and Scully fell back, exhausted, in the visitor's chairs. "Doctor Scully, I don't know what to do," Andrews admitted. "I've never seen anything like it. I think..." He took a deep breath then puffed it out in slow intervals. "I think we're just going to have to tough it out, wait for it to pass. It doesn't seem to.... well, yes, it IS getting worse, but any medication I try just makes his fever spike. I just don't think--" Scully put a hand over his. "It's okay. I have a feeling this virus is a bit... out of the ordinary." She leaned back in her chair, squinting intently at the wall, and appeared to be in deep thought. Hospital 10:00 p.m. Somewhere around ten o'clock, Doctor Andrews convinced Scully to go back to the hotel. Mulder wouldn't be waking up for quite a while-- after he passed out they had given him a sedative to insure his rest, and give the medical staff a break-- and Scully should get some sleep to be fresh for tomorrow. At ten-thirty, Doctor Andrews had finished his rounds and was preparing to go home when he heard gut wrenching screams coming from down the hall. He placed his briefcase back on the desk and followed the sounds to Mulder's room. But he could never have prepared himself for the scene he was about to witness. Mulder's legs were wrapped and twisted in the sheets. His IV was once again dislodged and blood dripped from his left arm, onto his hand and down his fingers. His head was thrown back, features twisted in a grimace, his hair damp from fear and fever. "Scully," he mumbled. His head lolled around on the pillow like it wasn't attached properly to his neck. "Scully. Gotta find.... Joanna. Joanna and Katie." He groaned loudly and took a deep rasping breath. "Joanna is.... the key. She..." In his sleep, he whimpered then stopped. His neck relaxed and his head dropped on a quite uncomfortable angle to the side. With a deep sigh, Doctor Andrews glanced at his patient one last time, then left. Hospital 8:13 a.m. Mulder was surprised to see sunlight streaming through his window when he opened his eyes. He thought it was night. He narrowed his eyes trying to remember what happened last night, but came up empty. He remembered that Scully was talking about Katie, but then what? He was still trying to come up with an answer when the morning nurse walked in. "Morning, Agent Mulder," she said cheerfully and went over to check his IV. Mulder looked at her confused. "Morning?" he rasped, confused and surprised at the sound of his voice. His throat was raw and felt like a bed of cotton. His head hurt. But confusion rose over all of that. "Yes, Agent Mulder. It's 8 a.m.," she said as she took his wrist to check his pulse. "8 a.m.? What happened last night?" Mulder sat up, his head protesting the move. But he needed to get to the bottom of this. The nurse just smiled. "I'll get the doctor." She was gone as soon as she said that. Mulder just rubbed his head. He looked down and noticed that his IV was in a different place. So, instead of one nice little bruise, he had two. He frowned and laid back. He felt like shit. He was just to tired to think. He was about to close his eyes when Dr. Andrews walked into his room. He looked at Mulder carefully, eyeing him seeming to expect the worst to happen. He took Mulder's chart in his hands. He opened the chart, glancing over it. He closed it and looked at Mulder with his best professional look. "How are you feeling?" he asked, even though he knew the answer. "Like shit. How are you?" Mulder deadpanned, then broke into a series of coughs. Finally he looked up and asked, with a serious look, "What happened last night?" "You really want to know?" Dr. Andrews asked evenly. Mulder nodded. "You stopped breathing. For a couple of minutes. Then you passed out. It's not unusual for you not to remember. Trust me, you wouldn't want to remember." Mulder squinted and tried to recall that. "Why?" The doctor didn't meet his eyes. "I don't know." Motel 8:25 a.m. Scully finished brushing her hair, setting the brush on the dresser and glanced toward the open door between hers and Mulder's rooms. Mulder's room was in the same condition he left it in--tangled sheets, clothes on the floor, and his suitcase sitting open in a corner. Scully thought and bundled some of the clothes on the floor into her arms. She heard her cell phone ringing from the other room, so she dumped the clothes on Mulder's bed and went to answer it. "Scully." Scully took the phone into Mulder's room. "He's awake, Doctor Scully." Scully smiled at that. She had asked Dr. Andrews to call her when Mulder awoke. "Thanks, I'll be there soon," she said and pushed the end button. She got Mulder's toothbrush from the bathroom, along with his shaving cream. This was something she did for him every time he was in the hospital. she thought Hospital 9:07 a.m. Mulder looked up at the ceiling and counted the ceiling cracks for the hundredth time. Scully had taken away his case files, he had noticed. Mulder still shuddered when he thought of what Andrews told him about last night. He probably scared the hell out of Scully, as well. he thought. He looked down at his hand, itching to take his IV out. The tube under nose was bothering him, and if not for the people were coming in and out of his room, he would have taken it off a long time ago. He glanced around the room. he thought and he reached his hand up to his nose. "Don't even think about it, Mulder." Mulder looked at the door and saw his red-headed partner with her eyebrows raised in a look that said 'do it and die.' Mulder dropped his hand. "I wasn't going to-" "Yeah and I believe in little green men." "_Gray_ men, Scully. How many times do I have to tell you?" Mulder gave a mock sigh of frustration. He noticed a Dunkin' Donuts bag in her hand. "Ah, Scully. What did you bring me?" he said, staring at the bag. "Nice to see you're feeling better." "Slightly," he answered and Scully's hand reached for his forehead. "You still have a fever," she said, frowning. "Yeah, but it's not stopping me from eating what's in that bag." Scully sighed. "It's a bagel, Mulder. Just a bagel." "Still better than the stuff they call food here." Scully smiled, remembering the taste of hospital food. "Are you sure you can keep it down?" Mulder dropped his eyes down. "I'd better," he muttered. Scully plopped down in the chair by the bed. "Seriously, Mulder?" Mulder looked up at that word. "How do you feel?" "Seriously?" "Seriously." "Well, my head hurts, my throat hurts, and my chest hurts. It feels like someone had a boxing match with my lungs." Mulder brought into a fit of coughing. "And won," he choked out when he finished. "Well, they almost did, Mulder." Scully still felt shaky about last night. Mulder had stopped breathing, for no reason at all. It was something you didn't take lightly. "I'm assuming Dr. Andrews told you about last night," she said quietly. "Yeah." Silence filled the room. Neither wanted to think of that moment. Losing each other was just too much to even think about. "So, how about that bagel?" Mulder asked, smiled. Scully tossed the bag at him, laughing. The Martin's Rutherford, NJ 9:26 a.m. WHAT D'YA MEAN I COULD TAKE CARE OF HER TOO IF YOU WANT YOU WANTED IT YOU SAID INCAPACITATE HIM Katie took a deep breath and held it, trying to hold her patience along with it. Joanna sounded hurt. WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH TAKING ANSWERS FROM ME Hospital 9:28 a.m. The bagel didn't stay down. After a change of clothes and a round of frustrated sobbing from Mulder, he now lay back in bed, eyes staring lazily down at his chest, his brain fogged with anti-nausea medication. Scully held his hand, softly stroking the web between his thumb and forefinger with her own small thumb. "Agent Scully, may I have a word with you?" "Mm?" She turned to see Andrews leaning in the doorway. "Oh, sure." Doctor Andrews held out Mulder's chart for her inspection. When she finished reading it she looked up. "He's dehydrated." "Not only is he dehydrated, despite an IV line we finally managed to keep established, his temperature is remaining at a steady 102.5. He seems to be responding well to Valium or anything else that temporarily puts him out of discomfort, but once we try to control the virus, it rages back, making his fever spike. So, I think we're going to have to let him ride this one out, making him as comfortable as possible, and see what happens." Scully continued to stare down at the chart. "...see what happens..." she repeated slowly, and swallowed hard. Hospital 1:34 p.m. "Smntha," he mumbled. Scully looked up. Mulder was rolling around in bed, sheets tangled around his legs, shuddering. She put a hand on his arm and felt the fever rising from him. "Smntha.... Scully! Don't..." He rolled over again so his face was in the pillow, and rested there, still shaking. She sighed but looked up when Mulder groaned loudly in his sleep. she thought. <> He began sobbing. <> Mulder wouldn't stop shaking and it was starting to scare her. "Mulder, c'mon, just a dream, c'mon, wake up, now. Can you wake up for me, now? C'mon." Scully grasped his shoulders and shook. "Wake up, Mulder." The Martin's Rutherford, NJ 1:40 p.m. "Katie, c'mon down. You've been in your room all day.... c'mon down, we'll go do something." "No, later, mom," she said. NO... Joanna said, and Katie thought she sounded scared. HE'S JUST...DREAMING. HE'LL BE OKAY YES NO.... I DIDN'T MAKE THEM. AND EVEN IF I DID MAKE THEM I WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO TAKE THEM BACK... THESE ARE HIS OWN DREAMS. I THINK HE'S BEEN HAVING THEM FOR A LONG TIME Frustrated that she couldn't do anything, Katie called down, "Mom, I'm coming." WAIT.... WHERE ARE YOU... Katie ignored the walls and ran downstairs. She had to stop this. "Mom?" Christina looked up and smiled. "You're finally getting out of that room," she said with a bit of relief. She picked up her purse. "So where should we go?" Katie took a deep breath. "I want to go to the hospital, Mom. I need to talk with Agent Scully." Hospital 2:03 p.m. Scully sighed as she repositioned herself in the uncomfortable chair. Mulder had finally settled down and stopped thrashing about. She knew it was only temporary, though. Mulder's nightmares always returned, and were especially magnified when he was sick. She glanced at his sleeping form. She wished there was something she could do. Scully, herself, had had a few nightmares (more than she would like) since her abduction. She never told Mulder about them, so she couldn't scold him for not talking to her. Scully closed her eyes in frustration. She just wanted this case solved, but most of all, she wanted her partner well. She knew he had stood by her own hospital bed many times. She could pick out his voice. She knew the words that her brother, Bill Jr., had said to him, blaming him for her illness. For her pain. But the saddest thing was Mulder believed that. She knew, still to this day, he believed that. She sighed again. Nothing she could ever say could stop him from blaming himself. "Agent Scully?" A voice shook Scully out of her thoughts. She looked toward the doorway and saw Christina Martin standing with Katie. Christina had her arms on Katie's shoulders, as if she were protecting her from something. "We're sorry to disturb you, but the doctor said you were here." Christina looked to the bed. "How is he?" "He's stable," Scully answered. She rubbed her weary eyes. "I can see you're tired, Agent Scully. We can come back later." Christina steered Katie to the door. "No, I'm fine," Scully said, and Christina stopped. "Why are you here?" Mrs. Martin looked at Katie, urging her. Finally Katie spoke in a shaky voice, "I wanted to talk to you." "Ok," Scully said, interested in what Katie had to say. "I'm going to get a cup of what they call 'coffee' in the cafeteria. We can talk there." Scully grabbed her cell phone, and casting one long worry-filled glance at Mulder, she walked out the door. Hospital Cafeteria 2:18 p.m. Scully placed her coffee on the table and faced Katie. Katie glanced at her mom, giving her a look that said she wanted to talk to Agent Scully alone. Mrs. Martin left saying she would be back after she did her grocery shopping. Scully watched Katie look at the walls worriedly, then smiled. "You know, they do say the walls have ears," Katie said, trying to joke, though Scully had a feeling she was serious. Dead serious. Scully waited as Katie hesitantly continued. "When Sarah was playing the piano, all everyone would say was how good she was, and how pretty she looked up there. My sister, Sarah Martin, perfect in every way." Katie sighed. DON'T TELL HER. YOU'LL REGRET IT. DON'T TELL HER. SHE WON'T BELIEVE YOU. THIS ISN'T GOING TO WORK. KEEP QUIET. Scully watched Katie look at the walls, as if she were communicating with them. "When Sarah was up there playing her piece," Katie started, her voice shaking as she did. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. "I was jealous. I wished she was dead." The tears started falling down her cheeks, sobs getting louder and louder. "I didn't mean for it to come true." Scully's heart went out for the girl. She dug into her pocket and handed her a tissue. "It's not your fault," she said, lifting Katie's chin up. Katie shook her head. "No, you don't understand. It _is_ my fault." She sobbed and then her head shot straight up. NOW YOU DID IT. I CAN'T HELP YOU NOW. Suddenly all the lights around Katie and Scully grew dark. Hospital Cafeteria Rutherford, NJ 2:20 p.m. "What the--?" Scully turned sharply around as the lights flickered and dimmed to black. Katie's words still rang in her ears: "No, you don't understand. It _is_ my fault." How could it.... one thing at a time. Scully had just stood up, prepared to find some technicians and get them to start up the electricity (losing electricity in a hospital was an extremely dangerous thing, most of the patients were hooked up to various machines that needed to be running to keep them stable), when the lights came back on. She breathed a sigh of relief and sat down again. "Katie, I'm sorry, what were you saying?" "I was... I..." she was torn. "I said it IS my fault that Sarah is dead. I wished she was dead and..." "Katie," Scully said softly. "We know you didn't do it, you were sitting down, far away from your sister as was everyone else." Katie had begun to cry. Scully placed a hand on her arm, awkwardly trying to comfort her. "It's okay. Shh, it's okay, we know you didn't do it." "But I DID!" Half of the occupants of the cafeteria turned towards Katie. A wide-spread glare from Scully caused them to turn back to their own conversations. SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP. WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING? YOU? TAKE CHARGE? HA, THAT'S A GOOD ONE. KATIE, YOU CAN'T DO ANYTHING BY YOURSELF! YOU WERE ALWAYS IN SARAH'S SHADOW TILL I CAME ALONG. FACE IT-YOU'RE NOTHING WITHOUT ME Katie was outraged. She pounded her fist on the table. "Just go away! I don't need you and I never did! And it wasn't me who killed Sarah, it wasn't me." Scully, who had been speaking softly the whole time, trying to get Katie's attention, was alarmed by her outburst and silenced abruptly. "Katie, are you okay? Katie-- we know you didn't kill her." Katie ignored her. There was no answer. No answer. "Katie, are you okay?" Scully asked again. She looked up and smiled. "Yeah." Hospital 2:55 p.m. After speaking to Katie and her mother for another few minutes, Scully left them to go check on Mulder. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully, so she decided to go back to the hotel for a shower and a lunch/dinner type meal at the Village Gourmet. It was almost four forty-five when she decided to go back to the hospital to check on Mulder. On her way down the sterile hallway to Mulder's room, Doctor Andrews caught up with her. "Doctor Scully," he said. "Have you been to see Mulder?" Noting the concern in his voice, she frowned. "Not for a couple hours, why?" Andrews took a deep breath. "He's taken a turn for the worse. Come with me." When she entered Mulder's room, Scully immediately noticed that the oxygen cannula had been replaced with a respirator tube down his throat. She shook her head. "Mulder's gonna have a hissy fit when he wakes up and feels that." "It couldn't be helped, he stopped breathing for a minute and a half. We still can't figure out what's causing it, but this should make it so it won't happen again. I do recommend that you're near by when he wakes up though, just to keep him calm." Scully nodded. "Did you give him anything to put him out?" Andrews shook his head and fingered Mulder's chart. "Nope, he passed out again, like the last time. It wasn't as bad this time... he stopped breathing for a minute and a half, then he seemed fine and he was getting enough oxygen.... then about a minute after he recovered, he stopped breathing again, just for 10 seconds, and passed out immediately after." Scully had pulled up a chair to the side of his bed and seated herself. "There's one more thing," Doctor Andrews continued. "His fever's spiked. A little above 103, but it was sudden enough to cause quite an uproar. The nurses gave him a sponge bath which he slept through-- too bad, it probably would've been quite an enjoyable experience for him-- and that brought the temp down to 102.9, but not nearly enough as it should've. I've got him on Saline to keep him hydrated, which should help a little, but we're going to have to ride this out. I'll get you a washcloth you can bath his face and arms and chest in, that might help, but..... I'm just scared to try any other medication. If the fever goes much higher, he'll be on the point of convulsions, and we DON'T want to go there." Scully nodded silently. "All right," she said finally. "Can you get me the washcloth please?" She stroked Mulder's damp hair. "Sure, I'll be right back." Hospital 10:30 p.m. Scully rubbed her tired eyes for what seemed the hundred time. As she shifted positions in the still very uncomfortable chair next to Mulder's bed, she sighed. She glanced again at Mulder's still form, the sound of the respirator echoing throughout her mind. Scully glanced at her cell phone on her lap. She should call Skinner and let him know what was up. She even considering calling Mulder's mom. But she knew that woman won't exactly care. In fact, she seemed to remind Scully a bit of Mrs. Wasserman. Scully suddenly got a pang of sympathy for Joanna. Scully grabbed her cell phone and stood up, and paced. She paced Mulder's room, back and forth thinking. Her thoughts wandered to the case, how Katie had reacted in the cafeteria, crying then suddenly stopping. She wished that would be the last she would hear about this case, but knew it probably wasn't. Glancing back over at Mulder, she frowned. How many times was he going to scare her? She sat back down in her chair, her eyes watching the monitors that had been added to the clutter of Mulder's room. Soon, she knew, they would probably move him down to ICU. He probably would have been there already, if not for the huge load the ICU already had, due to an auto accident a few days ago. Scully pulled her chair closer to Mulder and took his hand. As she sat there she wondered if this was the way Mulder felt when he was at her bedside. She knew he had held back from her about his feelings, how he blamed himself for her being in that hospital bed. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't hers. Bad things just happen. They just do. Scully looked at her cell phone again, thinking of how many times she had been called on that phone, how many times the voice on the other end told her to come down to the hospital, Mulder's been hurt again. She often teased Mulder on how times he had been to the hospital, though sadly, deep inside, she was frightened. She was scared that one of the times he wouldn't come home. she thought, looking out the window. She understood. She was not afraid of dying. Not since her abduction. As she had told Mulder she was sure of one thing in this life: there was nothing to fear when it's over. But she hoped it would be years from then, it fact, more than 3 years had passed from that night, and in that time, they had faced other dangers. Mulder faced his demons; she had faced her cancer. But she had overcome her cancer (at least for now), but she knew Mulder was far from overcoming his demons. But those thoughts aside, Scully knew what she was most afraid of. That he faced death before she had a chance to tell him she really cared. To tell him she loved him. She felt a tear roll down her check. Scully's cell phone rang and brought her back to earth. She rubbed her eyes and flipped open her phone. "Scully." Only silence followed. "Damn hangups." Scully listened to the dial tone that followed, suddenly getting a huge urge to call her mother. She finally hit the end button, not wanting to burden her mother with her rambling. Though she was supposed to have dinner at her house in two days, her mother knew that may change because of the case she was assigned. Scully sighed again. Her blue eyes strayed again to the bed, but the sight brought a small smile to her lips. She saw Mulder's fingers move and leaned closer to him, entwining her fingers in his. She saw his eyelids flutter. "Mulder," she said softly. Mulder opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was the blob of red above his face. He felt Scully's fingers around his. But he also felt the tube down his throat, and hated it. He instinctively gagged. "Whoah, Mulder. I know you don't like it, but don't fight it." Scully's voice was gentle, caring. Mulder understood what she was saying, but he still didn't like it. He gagged again. "Mulder, let it do the work. Just relax, and then I'll get the doctor." She had a worried look on her face, but it seemed to be combined with a small smile. Seeing her smile made him relax a little. He stopped gagging. Just as long as he could see Scully he'd be fine. Scully knew that too. She leaned over the bed and pressed the nurses call button A minute later, a petite brown- haired nurse walked into Mulder's room. Scully looked at her name tag. Peggy. "Peggy, could you tell Doctor Andrews that Agent Mulder's awake?" "Sure, Dr. Scully," Peggy replied, then left the room with the message. Scully turned away from Mulder and toward the door. As soon as she looked away, Mulder started gagging again. Scully immediately turned back and calmed him. She stroked his cheek and whispered, "it's okay, just relax." And that's how Dr. Andrews found her. Sitting on the edge of Mulder's bed, stroking his cheek and whispering. "Ahem." Scully looked and saw Dr. Andrews looking at them. He held Mulder's chart in his hand. Scully blushed and got off of the bed. Mulder's eyes followed hers and as soon as she stood away from him, he started gagging again. "Mulder, don't fight it," she said softly again, then turned to the doctor. "How much longer does he stay on the respirator?" Mulder looked up at her, pleading when she asked that question. Dr. Andrews looked down at his chart, and tapped his pen. "I think we can remove it now, but another episode and he's," He paused and looked directly at Mulder on the bed, "Back on it for awhile longer." Fifteen minutes later, Scully was back at her place at the edge of Mulder's bed. Mulder had put up a fight when doctor insisted he stayed on oxygen, but other than that, Mulder seemed to be on good behavior. His temperature was down to 101.9. "I really hate this thing," Mulder said, his voice horse and low, and pointed to the oxygen cannula under his nose. "Well, we could just go back to the respirator," Scully teased. "Well, it's not that bad," Mulder said quickly. He looked up her. He still felt like crap. His head hurt, his throat hurt, and for once he didn't want to even think about food, but he noticed the circles under Scully's eyes. "You need some sleep," he said, his eyes concerned. Scully smiled. "I'm fine," she started, but seeing his eyes she continued, "But I'm going to go back to the motel soon, I promise." "Good." For a minute they just stared at each other, not speaking. Their eyes seemed to read each other's, though neither spoke outloud. Finally Mulder looked down at his IV. "So how's the case?" he said. "Still there. Still unsolved." Scully got up and went the window sill and got the folder off of it. "This is going with me." "Anything happen?" "Katie came to talk to me," Scully said suddenly. "She did?" Mulder lifted his head off the pillow, interested. Scully just walked over and pushed his head back down. "Yes. But nothing big happened. I took her down to the cafeteria and she broke down, saying she was responsible for Sarah's death." "She did?" Mulder's voice perked up, causing him to twinge. "You should rest your vocal cords, Mulder. Yes, but it was just hysterics. She was just guiltstricken. She said she wished her sister dead." Mulder eyes peaked up again at that one. Scully sighed. "Mulder, I've thought the same thing about any of my siblings many times during my childhood. It's natural. It just happened at a bad time." "But, Scully-" Scully cut him off. "You need your rest, Mulder. I'm going to get mine. We'll talk tomorrow." She pulled the covers around him tighter. Only then did Mulder realize how tired he was. He felt his eyes start to close. "'Night Mulder," she said softly. "'Night Scully," he whispered back. Hospital 11:21 a.m. "Allografts may be rejected through either a cell- mediated or a humoral immune reaction of the recipient against transplantation (histocompatibility) antigens present on the donor's cell membranes. The stronger antigens--" "Scully." Mulder's voice from the bed sounded horrible, rusty and cracked. "Mm?" She looked up from the book. "Oh sorry, I thought you were asleep." "If you thought I was asleep why were you reading that crap to me?" He coughed weakly. "Actually, it's quite interesting. I picked it up from the doctor's lounge. Besides, you didn't seem to mind." "I was asleep," Mulder said flatly. "Then go back to sleep! ....They are the chief transplantation antigents presently detectable in man. Because transplantations..." Mulder groaned loudly and rolled over, not really caring whether he dislodged the IV or other contraptions he was hooked up to. Scully stopped dictating. "Mulder, can I talk to you about something serious?" Without turning to face her, he grunted in response. "All right, but I'm not promising to return the interesting conversation." She rubbed his arm. "That's okay. Roll over and look at me, though, so I can make sure you're awake and listening," Scully joked. Truthfully, she wanted to keep an eye on his condition. The doctors had been exuberant when his fever had broke last night, but now it hung at a steady 101.9, not bad, but the rest of his symptoms persisted, making him miserable. If he could only... "Scully?" "Hm?" She broke out of her reverie. "What are you doing?" "Nothing. Kay, I want to talk to you about this case. I think you were right when you said Joanna is the _key_. She... I don't know how to explain it. I just... well, when Katie was talking, I started thinking about Joanna for some reason. I'm going to go back to the crime lab and talk to the guy that works there. When I was last there, he said that he had taken a certain interest in Joanna's death and I think he might be able to tell us more about it. He seemed very eager to help." "Makin' friends everywhere we go, huh Scully? Okay, then, you can go." "Oh, how kind of you to release me from your strong hold, Sir Mulder. Actually, the crime lab's closed on Sundays so I'll have to wait till tomorrow." "Okay." Mulder coughed a few times and she could tell he still felt really bad. He stared off in the direction of the window, not really admiring the scenery, just gazing blankly. "Hey," Scully put her hand over his and squeezed it to get his attention. His eyes slowly focused and floated over to her face. "You doing okay? I can leave and let you rest--" "No!" Mulder said too quickly. "Uh, no, please stay. I don't need to rest." She smiled. "I wouldn't be so sure about that, you were about to drift off a minute ago. How about I go in search of some... more appropriate reading material and then we'll have a reading date." He nodded slowly and she smiled, squeezed his hand one more time and left the room. When she returned, five minutes later, with a dog-eared copy of Alice in Wonderland in her hand, Mulder was fast asleep. In the car Rutherford, NJ 2:45 p.m. "He wants to _what_??" Scully demanded? She leaned the cell phone against her shoulder and, using both hands, pushed down on the horn. "Hurry it up, buddy," she yelled to the snail driver in front of her, knowing very well he couldn't hear her. "He wants to leave, Doctor Scully. And frankly, I'm thinking that wouldn't be such a bad idea." Scully frowned and, lacking nothing better to do, honked the car horn again. "Does that mean he's doing better?" "Well, no, not really," Doctor Andrews admitted. "He woke up soon after you left, complaining of a splitting headache. All the nurses were on lunch break except one, a nurse in training, Beverly Conners, a scared little thing whose not allowed to give out medication, yet. Mulder wasn't in the best of moods and when she denied him his drugs he had a fit and ripped out the IVs. Beverly tried her best to calm him down but she finally gave up and ran to the lunch room, trying to find a doctor to help out. By the time she found me and we made our way upstairs, Mulder was passed out in the visitors chair... the same one we found him in last time, by the way. When we tried to move him, he came to and began thrashing around. Now nobody'll go near him.... look, Doctor Scully, I'll be frank with you." Scully, nervous about Mulder and frustrated with the slow traffic said, "Hi, Frank, I'm Dana." "Uh, right." Andrews cleared his throat. "Scully, there was an airplane crash nearby." "I know, I heard about that, isn't it terrible? First that big car crash, then the airplane..." "We're almost out of beds. This is a small town hospital, NOT meant for big accidents like this... and, Scully, I don't know what to do about your partner. He's not getting any better and, truthfully, he's more trouble than he's worth." "Don't say that," she said slowly. "All right. All right, look, as soon as I get out of this traffic jam I'll stop by the hospital and pick him up. Can you have him ready and dressed?" "I'm not sure if we can get him to..." "Believe me, tell him he's going home and he'll do _anything_." Andrews smiled. "Okay, uh, one more thing. Mulder is still dehydrated and yanking out his IV did nothing to help that. I don't think an IV will be good to handle but you should be able to get some fluids into him, well, I know you'll be able to get them into him, it's whether or not he'll keep them down is the question. I'll give you plenty of Compazine, though and you can shoot him full of that... you know what? I'll go now and get you a large assortment of drugs and you can have fun with those. And just come back if you need more. Think it'll be okay?" Scully didn't realize why she hadn't thought of it sooner. The hospital really wasn't doing much to help Mulder get better, any medicines they tried to stop the virus just made it worse, and she could take just as good care of him... oh, she remembered. When he was at the hospital, he was out of her hair. Thinking back, he'd actually given the hospital staff minimum amount of trouble... well, until now that was. "Yes, Doctor Andrews, that'll be fine. Looks like the traffic is getting better, I should be there in about ten-- fifteen minutes, at the most." "Great," Andrews sounded relieved. "And, Doctor Scully?" "Mm?" "Please bring him back if it starts getting serious. I wouldn't want to be responsible for anything..." "I know. I'll see you in a few minutes." She pressed the off button. Hospital Rutherford, NJ 3:15 p.m. When Scully entered the room, Mulder was sitting in the visitor's chair, facing the full-length windows on the other side of the room. His knees were pulled up to his chest and his sneakered feet rested on the ledge of the chair, almost falling off. As she stepped closer, she could see he was indeed dressed, wearing jeans and an Oxford sweatshirt, and his bag was packed (probably by Doctor Andrews) and squatting next to him. "Mulder," she said softly. He didn't move. Scully put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, whatcha doing?" Ever so slowly, he twisted around in the chair so he faced his partner. Scully frowned at the sight of his face; his forehead was scrunched in obvious pain, and the fever splotches on his pale features were back from when he had been going through the worst of the fever. She raised a hand to his forehead and he swatted it away before she could make contact. Even so, she could feel the heat emanating, even from a few inches away. Pushing aside her worry, she straightened, picked up his bag and stood. "Ready?" She reached out a hand to pull him up and, surprisingly, he took it, using her full help to get him vertical. "I already signed him out for you," Doctor Andrews said from the door. Scully turned. "Oh, thank you." To Mulder, she said, "C'mon, let's get you home." He was starting to sway on his feet and she quickly wrapped an arm around his waist, and escorted him briskly down the stairs and out to the car. She let go of him for a minute to open the back door. "In here. You can stretch your legs out and get some rest since it looks as if you've been deprived of it for the last few hours." He shook his head very slightly, even so, grimacing at the pain. "Why not, Mulder. You _need_ rest--" "No," he said. He coughed a little, wincing again. In explanation his rubbed his stomach. "Nauseous." "Ohh, okay, sit in the front, it'll be better. When we get to the motel, I've got some Compazine for you." He nodded his thanks and slipped into the front seat. Scully got into the driver's seat, stuck the key in the ignition and drove off. Luckily, the traffic had all disappeared by this time and she got to the motel in relatively no time. She pulled into a parking space close to their rooms and looked over at Mulder. He had his eyes scrunched tightly closed but when he caught her staring they flew open. "What?" Mulder demanded hoarsely. "Are you sure you're okay?" "They seemed to think so." He opened the door and got out. Scully was right on his heels, opening the motel door for him, leading him to sit on the bed, pushing him down so he was lying on the bed in the middle of the day, fully dressed including shoes and his jacket. She perched on the corner of his bed next to him. "I thought you _wanted_ to get out. You wouldn't cooperate with anyone, you got yourself expelled," she joked. He sighed, and the deep breath made him cough. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I just feel so..." Scully moved closer and stroked his hair. "Feel what? What can I do?" "I don't know. Just bad. I'm gonna go to sleep now," he said and closed his eyes. Scully watched in amazement as his breathing evened out in less than half a minute. "Mulder?" she whispered. He didn't respond. Scully sighed and worked to gingerly pull off his shoes and jacket, trying not to wake him. She didn't have to try very hard, he was dead to the world. She sat for a few minutes, studying his pain streaked face, then ran a hand through his hair, feeling how soft it was even soaked in sweat. She frowned, remembering she hadn't gotten to take his temperature. Going over to her medical bag, she found her ear thermometer and carefully took his temperature. "Oh, shit," she said simply and dropped into the arm chair across the room. She sighed loudly again, then put the thermometer away and went into the bathroom. She splashed water as cold as she could get it on her face and stared in the mirror. Scully looked back at Mulder one last time then went to her room, dropped on the bed and turned on HBO. Motel 10:34 p.m. Scully was still lying on her bed, vegging out on the HBO when a gut wrenching scream caused her to nearly jump through the cheap motel ceiling. She ran out of her room. The light was still on in his room so she saw right away her partner, lying on the floor, tangled in blankets and sheets, screaming his head off. "Mulder, Mulder, Mulder, shhhhh...." She had gathered her partner up in her arms and was rocking him back and forth. He was sitting up and crying and rocking with her but he didn't seem to be aware or even awake. He seemed even hotter than he had been before, and Scully was becoming seriously alarmed. He eased her mind somewhat when he sat up on his own and groaned loudly. Two fists came up and sluggishly rubbed at his tear streaked face. Then he sat, slouched over in exhaustion, and stared, blinking owlishly at Scully until she half helped, half lifted him up and dropped him on the bed. When he was more or less resting comfortably, she went into the bathroom and came backwith a cup of water for him. He managed to get half of it in him, half of it on him (the usual percentage) but after half a glass he pushed it away violently. "Mulder, you need to--" "Remember Mrs. Paddock?" As an afterthought he mumbled, "I'm gonna be sick." She took a deep breath, then realized he'd probably be okay if he sat still for a minute, he had just had too much water too fast. "Here," she said and gently pushed his head between his knees. He stayed in that position for several minutes, Scully with her hand on the back of his neck, ready to help if he needed it. After a while, he fell back on the bed and closed his eyes. "I'm okay," he said. He was shivering now. "Cold," he muttered and tried to slip under the blankets. "No, you need to let off body heat. Mulder... Mulder, c'mon listen to me. You need to..." It was too late. He had coocooned himself in the thin motel room blankets and was breathing evenly again. Scully thought, confused. Mulder stirred a bit as Scully turned the lights out. she thought again. She sighed, and brushed the thought off as a fever dream. She glanced over at her thermometer, which sat on the small table next to Mulder's bed. She was tempted to take his temperature again, but didn't want to disturb him. she thought, rubbing her eyes She yawned and headed back to her room and turned the TV off. She glanced over at the door the connected both of their rooms. It was open, just as she had left it, and she could hear Mulder's slightly uneven breathing from the next room. She sighed, knowing she couldn't do anything else, flipped off her light and went to sleep. Motel 8:33 a.m. Scully smiled as she looked in the reflection in the mirror. She still looked tired, but she managed a decent night's sleep last night. She could only hope that Mulder had too. She peered in the door for the first time that morning and sighed loudly at what she saw. Mulder was asleep, in a half sitting position, his head slumped back on the headboard. His glasses lay next his pillow, discarded without care. Joanna's files were sprawled in his lap, scattered in a million different directions. Taking him out of the hospital was beginning to sound like a very bad idea. she reminded herself, Scully sighed again and walked toward Mulder. He did look a little better, she had to admit. His cheeks were a little less red. She shoved some folders off the bed, not caring if they landed on the floor. She'd pick them up later. "Mulder." She shook him lightly and he groaned. She reached for the thermometer and placed it in his ear. He groaned again, but didn't open his eyes. The thermometer beeped. 102.5. Down from last night's 104. That was something to be happy about. But she was going to give Mulder one hell of a lecture about getting up for 'late night studying.' Mulder chose that moment to grace her with his hazel eyes. They searched the room and landed on her. "Morning," she said softly and reached for a folder. She held in up in front of him, not saying a word. Mulder swallowed and looked at her sheepishly. "I had an idea, and...." His voice was soft, hardly above a whisper. He swallowed again and grimaced. "I'm sorry, Scully." He looked up at her, his eyes shining from the fever. Scully sighed. she thought. She brushed some hair off his forehead. "It's okay." She got up from the bed. "I want you to take these." She handed him two aspirin and then got him some water. She stood there and walked him swallow. "What's the matter, Scully? Don't trust me?" he croaked, with a small smile. "Not when it comes to taking medication," she replied lightly and sat back down on the bed. "Mulder, I want you to get some rest. I'm going to the crime lab to talk with someone. I'll be back in a bit." She scooped up the remaining papers on the bed and bent down to pick up the ones on the floor. She got up and smiled. "These," she said, pointing to the files, "are coming with me." "Scully-" "Sleep, Mulder. You need it. And I'm sure you don't want to listen to another lecture." She started to push him back down. "And I don't want to have to bring you back to the hospital." Her voice was low on that last line. He knew what she meant. She didn't want any more scares. He nodded and laid down. She started to walk to the door. "Scully?" She turned and looked at him. "What?" "What if Joanna's death wasn't an accident? Just like Shannon Ausbury. Her death was no accident." "We don't know that, Mulder." "Mrs. Paddock was responsible. You know that." "Mulder," Scully began. Mulder just rolled over and closed his eyes. "Fine, Scully. Go talk to that guy at the crime lab." Scully frowned and cast one last glance at Mulder before walking out. Crime Lab 9:46 a.m. "Joanna's death was a shock to the community. In Rutherford you don't get too many hit-and-runs. People were appalled that someone would run down a child and flee the scene, no matter how much trouble the child caused. We're a small community, Agent Scully. Very close to each other. Everyone knows everyone else here," said Sean Matthews, shaking his head. "Even though Joanna wasn't an angel, I, myself, and I know quite a few others were very suspicious of her death. Her parents didn't shed one tear. Even when the police called them. Of course, feelings aren't part of an investigation, so the parents weren't suspects." Scully nodded, remembering her short conversation with Mrs. Wasserman. "I talked to Mrs. Wasserman. She was less than friendly," Scully said, carefully, hoping to get some more insight into Joanna's death without taking a side. At least not yet. Matthews nodded and Scully continued. "The parent were checked though?" Matthews nodded. "Yep. To rule out the possible angle of, well, parents paying someone to do it." "Paying someone to do it?" Suddenly this case was going beyond the death of Sarah Martin. There seemed to be no logical connection between Joanna and Katie. Scully was getting more confused by the minute. "Yeah. People around town were saying that the Wassermans knocked her off. Got rid of her. I don't know if that's true, people around here can go overboard, believe me, but those parents were strange. A full autopsy was done, as you read in those files, we even did some bloodwork, at the request of the parents. Looked at that myself. Normal." "The request of the parents?" Now Scully was getting a little suspicious herself. "Yeah, they were real nervous about it. When I told them it was clear, they looked relieved, almost as if they thought something was going to be there." Motel 11:13 a.m. Scully clutched the files, along with a bag full of juice she hoped she could get Mulder to drink. Scully thought as she opened her motel door. She entered her room, glad to see the maid had respected the "no maid service" sign she had left on the door before leaving that morning. Scully placed the files on the dresser. "Mulder," she said softly as she opened the door to Mulder's room, juice in hand. She sighed loudly (God, she seemed to be doing that a lot) when she saw Mulder sitting up in bed, glasses on, and struggling to keep his eyes open. Scully's laptop sat on his lap, and she could see he was logged into the Bureau. Scully thought as she walked in and set the juice on the dresser. "Ahem." Mulder blinked his eyes and grimaced, then looked up at Scully. She stood there, her eyebrows raised in the look she had done to a science. Mulder raised a hand to his head, and rubbed his temples. "I was bored and-" he started, but Scully caught him off. "I don't want to hear it, Mulder." Scully walked over to the wall and pulled both the computer's plug and phone cord out. She then put them on Mulder's lap. "Sorry," he muttered, letting his hands fall to his sides. Scully took the laptop off of his lap and put it down on the floor. She then sat at the edge of his bed, took his glasses off, and placed them on the nightstand. "Do you understand the word rest, or do I have to define it for you?" Scully asked, her eyebrow still raised. "Rest isn't my favorite word, Scully," he muttered, and brought into a coughing fit. Scully walked into the bathroom and returned with a glass of water. Mulder's coughing fit subsided and she handed him the glass of water. He drank the whole thing without comment, but ending up coughing again and spilling half of it. "Don't drink it so fast," Scully warned. She reached for her thermometer again and before Mulder could protest, stuck in his ear. Mulder was too busy getting over his coughing to notice, anyway. "102," she said aloud. "Down half a degree." Mulder regained his composure and smiled. "See? I did rest a little while." But his smile soon faded as the coughing started up again. Scully pushed him down gently, until his head rested on the pillow. "Not enough, evidently." "How was the crime lab?" he asked, changing the subject. "Oh no, Mulder. I don't talk until you get some more rest." Scully looked dead serious. Mulder knew not to press. He had her mad enough already. And he knew that having Scully pissed off wasn't a good thing. So he closed his eyes, surprised at how tired he was. He didn't realize how he had been fighting to stay awake until now. "Good," he heard Scully say and felt her hands on his forehead. Inwardly he smiled and fell asleep with Scully sitting next to him. Motel Rutherford, NJ 12:35 p.m. With nothing better to do and wanting to keep a close eye on Mulder, Scully spent the rest of the day in the motel. Mulder slept for a large portion of the day-- he woke up around four and she managed to get some water in him before he started begging her for the files. When she refused, he had given one last weak protest, then shrugged and gone back to sleep. Scully had gotten into pajamas at around ten and read a little, then turned off the light and lay, staring at the cracks in the ceiling, trying to fall asleep. But she just wasn't tired; she hadn't really _done_ anything all day, and she had too much energy to fall asleep. Scully had counted only sixty-five sheep when the conjoining door between her and Mulder's room bust open. Her disheveled partner moved quickly into the room, tripping a few times over his own feet. "Mulder--" "Scully, we're going to Texas." "Excuse me??" Scully had flipped on the light switch and was studying her partner. Deciding him to be hallucinogenic, she reached a hand up to his forehead. He swatted it away and stared at her, his eyes intense, but the fever glaze was still painfully present. "Texas, Scully. Texas. Wassermans...... you need to...." He was having trouble putting together a complete sentence. Scully put a gentle hand on his arm. "Mulder, did you have a bad dream?" "No! No, I... well, yeah, but that's not what told me to.... well, sorta, but..." "Why don't you go back to sleep, and we'll talk about it in the morning?" "No! I'm not... " He made a noise close to whimpering, frustrated. "I slept all _day_, Scully. I wanna work now, you said I could." "I didn't say you could start working at midnight!" He studied her, suddenly realizing something. "Why are _you_ up? It's late." She sighed. "I couldn't sleep." She studied him, his face flushed, eyes glazed. "I somehow think _you_ could though. Go back to your room." "No... I wanna work now." Mulder crossed his arms in front of his chest and sat down on the corner of her bed, apparently not planning to move willingly for the next few hours or until Scully gave in. "No," Scully said. "No way, no how. We are not going to Texas until we seriously discuss this, AND discuss this with _Skinner_. Remember? Our _boss_? And, frankly, Mulder, you're not proving to me at all that you're fit to start working. And I definitely don't want to take you on a plane to Texas and have you collapse on me. You need to rest up--" That's where Mulder broke. "I _did_! I've been listening to you... I slept all day for crying out loud!" "You needed it," Scully said, trying to keep her calm. "I didn't... I...." Mulder was breathing heavily, on the verge of hyperventilating in his frustration. "Fine. I don't have to listen to you. There's no reason I _should_ listen to you. I--" He was gasping for breath. "I'm going now. I'm gonna go now. I'm.... yeah." He stood up, sweat streaming down his face, swayed a little before stumbling out the door and into the parking lot. "Mulder!!" Scully jumped up and began running towards him but a blast of cold air from the door stopped her in her tracks. She was only wearing pajamas and chasing after Mulder -- especially when he had the car and she was on foot-- was not a smart idea. She stood in the doorway, watching helplessly as the rental car pulled out of the motel parking lot, two sharp headlights in the still winter air, moving jerkily as its fever-impulsed driver struggled to concentrate enough in his exhaustion to keep the car straight and moving. Scully shivered and pulled the door closed. She stared down at her bare toes, digging, infuriated, into the thin motel carpet. "Shit," she whispered. "Great Dana, what're you gonna do now??" her reasonable mind was telling her. jeez she didn't even know his temperature. But, it was her responsibility to take care of Mulder and allowing him to go on such a mad hunt was her problem now. "Skinner." "Uh, sir, I'm sorry to wake you..." He sighed. "No, I wasn't sleeping." "Oh, well, uh, I don't know how to say this..." "What'd Mulder do, Scully?" Scully smiled a little then turned serious. "Well, he was very cooperative today, he slept all day, in fact." "Scully, is there something you're not telling me?" "Um, no, sir, why?" There was a long pause. "What's wrong, Scully?" She briefly wondered why they hadn't been reprimanded before. "Well, it's a long story, sir and it ends up with Mulder driving off into the sunset with our _only_ car and a 103 fever." "One oh three?" "... an estimate. It was 102 earlier today but it definitely looks like it's gone up." "Not that I don't trust your doctor's judgment, but one oh three is a bit high. And I thought he was in the hospital?" "Oh, it was higher and he's out. Before. Uh... let's not get into that. Anyway, he stole the car and he's going to Texas. Well, I think he's going to Texas." "Texas? Jesus, Scully it's one in the morning, what's the matter with him??" "Like I said, sir, he's got a hundred three temperature. Oh... and he's royally pissed at his partner." "You," Skinner said. "Okay, Scully, this is against all my best judgment, but I'm giving you permission to _follow_ your reckless partner on his wild goose hunt." "NOW, sir?" Scully had been hoping to leave in the morning. Even though she knew she'd have trouble falling asleep, she was in no mood to go chase Mulder. "Well, I'd recommend it. Pack up your stuff and go as soon as you can. By the way, did Mulder bring _anything_ with him?" "Uh, to the best of my knowledge, no." Skinner mumbled something that sounded like, "This keeps getting better and better." and swore under his breath. "All right, go ahead Scully. Keep me informed please.... I don't think I'll be sleeping tonight anyway." "Okay, thank you sir, I'll call you later." She hung up and hurried to pack up her bag and Mulder's. Airport New Jersey 1:26 a.m. "A plane to Texas... one oh five in the morning. Are you crazy?" The young lady behind the counter frowned at the crazed FBI agent before her. "Uh, no ma'am. Just convenient." "Convenient my ass," Scully muttered. "All right, uh...." She took a deep breath and regained her composure. "Tell me this. That one oh five plane, was there a man on it, about thirty seven years old, six feet, brown hair, hazel eyes, not quite sane?" "Yes!" The lady smiled. "He bought a ticket _right_ before take-off and had to run to catch the plane." Scully took a deep breath and let it out in three slow intervals. "When's the next plane to Dallas?" "Um, not till the morning." "Shit. Fine, I want a ticket for that." "Uh, it's sold out." "Jesus, I'm an FBI agent, you can't find a single seat? In the BACK?" "Oh, you're an FBI agent. Why didn't you say anything?? Sure, we can find you a seat in the back!" She said too cheerfully. "I did say something," Scully said through clenched teeth. "I want that flight. What time is it?" "One thirty." "Not now, what time is it. What time does the flight leave?!" "Oh, uh, nine thirty." Scully bit back the urge to start having a hissy fit on the filthy airport floor. "All right, I want one of those." "'K, you got it, miss. Here ya go." She printed out one ticket and handed it to Scully. "Thank you," Scully said, not sounding very thankful at all. She walked brusquely away. "Sheesh," the lady behind the counter said. Texas Airport 3:30 p.m. The flight had been late and then they'd hit turbulence. Scully was pissed off at the plane, but at least she'd managed to get enough sleep last night after all the commotion and all. She'd only gotten a few hours, but when she woke up, she'd found herself fresh and prepared to kick her partner's ass back to New Jersey once she found him. Unfortunately, her high disappeared as soon as she discovered just how many hotels there were in Dallas that Mulder could be staying with. _If_ he'd had the sense to find a hotel. It was possible he'd just gone straight to the Wasserman's. After a moment of thinking, Scully decided he'd probably gone straight to the Wasserman's. "Mrs. Wasserman, it's me again, Agent Scully." "Oh. Yes?" She was decidedly more pleasant than the last time Scully had spoken with her. "Yes, uh, I was wondering, has my partner, Mulder.. uh, Agent Mulder, come to you?" "Yes, why?" Scully felt like spilling her story about Mulder abandoning her but decided against it. Mrs. Wasserman might be nicer than the last time they had talked, but she still wasn't Scully's favorite person on the planet. "Do you happen to know where he's staying?" "No, but he did leave us a number." "Would you mind telling me that number?" After a slight hesitation she added, "Please." "No, not at all." The words were music to Scully's ears. "Five five five five three eight nine." "Thank you very much Mrs. Wasserman," she said. She then added, "Maybe we'll talk later today." And hung up before Mrs. Wasserman could protest. Scully stared at the phone in her hand. She was going to _kill_ Mulder at this moment. She punched in the number that Mrs. Wasserman had given her. "Hello. Holiday Inn. How may I help you?" a cheerful voice chimed after one ring. Scully thought. "I'm looking for a Fox Mulder. I believe he checked here, but I don't know which room number." Scully tapped her fingers on the side of the phone while she waited. "One moment, please." Scully conjured up what she was going to say to Mulder; she started forming the _perfect_ lecture. "He's in room 212. Would you like me to connect you?" "Yes, please." Scully listened to a distant ringing and waited for Mulder to pick up. Two rings. Three rings. Four rings. Finally the cheerful voice came back on the line. "It appears that Mr. Mulder is not in his room. Would you like to leave a message?" "Just tell him Scully called. And that he has ditched her for the last time," Scully said, calmly and sweetly, then asked for directions to the hotel, and hung up. She was prepared to camp out in front of Mulder's room and wait for him. And then she would kick his sorry ass all the way back to Washington. Holiday Inn 4:55 p.m. Scully had to rent another car to get to the hotel, and knew that Mulder had rented another one as well. She had described Mulder and asked at the rental counter if they had seen him. Of course, they had seen him, 'looking rather pale' as the clerk had described. This made Scully even more determined to find him. So here she was, walking down the hallway to Mulder's room, ready to pounce on him as soon as she saw him. She had her suitcase and Mulder's duffel bag in one hand, her medical bag in the other, and her room key in her fist. She had managed to get the room next to Mulder's and after a quick drop off of bags in her room, she was prepared to really sit in front of his door. She sighed as she realized that Skinner was going to kill them when he saw this expense report. But as soon as she reached her door, she noticed that the Mulder's room door was slightly ajar. She quickly dropped her bags in her room and walked over to the door, trying to think that housekeeping was there and Mulder hadn't really left the door slightly ajar. Because Mulder would _never_ do that. She rapped on the door lightly, but got no response. She frowned and opened the door quietly. A queen sized bed was in the middle of the room. And Mulder was on top of it, fast asleep, still in the clothes he had on when he stormed out last night. His face was hidden by a pillow, but Scully could hear a slight rasp in his breathing. The same rasp that had kept her up last night, only slightly worse. Scully sighed and walked back into her room to get her medical bag. At least with her thermometer she could get a reading without waking Mulder. Because as soon as he woke, he was going to get it. 6:15 p.m. An hour had past and Mulder was still out cold. Scully had taken his temperature and the 103 she had suspected last night was confirmed. She clutched some aspirin in her hand and was waiting for him to wake, so she could get him to take them and get him to drink something. She ordered some juice from room service and it sat on a table by the window, next to the chair Scully now resided in. She had been practicing her little "speech" to Mulder over and over in her head as she waited. she realized, but knew she would say it anyway. She glanced at her cell phone and decided to fill Skinner in, before Mulder awoke and ran out on her again. "Skinner." "It's Scully, sir. I found him." "Where?" Skinner sounded both relieved and annoyed at the same time. Scully herself had that reaction when she had discovered Mulder. "Holiday Inn in Dallas," she answered. "Don't let him out of your sight, Scully." "I won't, sir." And after she promised to keep him informed, she hung up. She glanced over at Mulder and saw him stir. She pushed her chair to the edge of the bed and sat there and watched him open his eyes. The first thing Mulder was aware of was his splitting headache. He groaned, opened his eyes, and was greeted by one very pissed off redhead. "I am getting sick of you ditching me, Mulder," Scully started and sighed, preparing to go into her lecture, but Mulder interrupted her. "I'm sorry, Scully. But you weren't listening to me." He brought his hand up to his temples and rubbed them. Then he proceeded to get up. Scully hands were pushing him down in an instant. "No, Mulder. Let's not start this again. You are _sick_. Normal people stay in bed when they are sick." "Scully you know by now that I'm not normal," Mulder remarked, and closed his eyes against his still throbbing head. "Of course you aren't. That would be too easy, wouldn't it?" Scully was pissed. She got off of her chair and started pacing. "Mulder, one these days, you are going to run off and I'm not going to find you. I don't want that to happen! You are-" "I said I was sor-" Mulder interjected, but was racked by a bought of coughing. Scully sighed and her anger turned into concern. He _was_ sick after all. She got the aspirin she had had out and handed then along with a glass of water to him. Mulder swallowed the aspirin and drank the water without a word. Scully just looked at him, and then walked to the bed and sat on the edge. She put her hand on his forehead, and Mulder had to admit he loved Scully's touch, even if it was while she was doctoring him. She frowned and reached for her thermometer again. "Turn your head for me." It was an order and not a request. Mulder knew that and let Scully stick the thermometer into his ear for a reading. "103.6," Scully said outloud to no one in particular. "It's up half a degree." She sighed and shook her head. She looked at the floor for a minute and then brought her eyes back to Mulder. "So what do you find out? What was so important you had to ditch me?" The words weren't angry, they were annoyed, but not angry, even though God knows she was angry. "Mrs. Wasserman can be a real bitch," Mulder said, simply. Scully laughed. "I could have told you that," she said, through her laughter. Mulder looked at her strangely. "Never mind. Anything else?" Mulder sighed and tried to remember. His eyelids were getting heavy and he couldn't really think that clearly. Scully saw him falling asleep. She put her hand on his arm. "You can tell me later, Mulder. Go to sleep. I'll get something for dinner." Mulder's eyes perked up at the idea of her leaving the room, but Scully quickly added: "From room service." Mulder sighed and coughed, then drifted off to sleep. Holiday Inn 7:30 p.m. Scully stared at the file folder as she ate. She wondered why Mulder had come here in the first place. She knew he wanted to talk to Mrs. Wasserman, but she doubted he got very far in his condition. But she still didn't know _why_ talking to Linda Wasserman was so important. She pushed her plate aside and looked at Mulder. He was still asleep, but stirred from time to time, so Scully didn't even want to leave the room, afraid he'd slip out again. she reminded herself. She closed the folder and sighed. She would talk to Mrs. Wasserman herself in the morning. She just needed to know what Mulder had asked her. What Mulder was looking for. This case was getting tiring. It had started at as a murder case, and now they were in Texas investigating a hit-and-run that took place 5 years ago! Scully seemed to be no closer to solving this case, but Mulder seemed to have same sort of hunch. But Mulder was sick. An illness that had struck him when he tried to investigate the connection between Katie and Joanna. she thought, smiling a little. Right now, she would wait for Mulder to wake up, try to get him to eat, and to keep it down. Her mind wandered back to the hospital and all the scares. Holiday Inn Dallas, Texas 9:47 p.m. It was after nine-thirty when Scully finally caved in and woke up Mulder. She knew he'd kill her for letting him sleep so long, but that wasn't her only motivation. Truth was, she was bored out of her mind and dying to hear what Mulder's "hunch" on the Wassermans was. Even before she shook him, she could tell the aspirin she'd given him hadn't done a thing. He was laying on his side, curled with his knees half way up, both arms wrapped around his rib cage as if protecting himself from some unknown predator. Listening to his harsh, rasping breathing made her realize he was probably in a great deal of pain. As Scully sat on the edge of Mulder's bed, stroking his damp bangs, feeling the heat coming off him, he began coughing; loud hacking that sounded as though it was trying to wake him up, but the exhaustion kept him from emerging from his slumber. Scully sat there for nearly ten minutes watching him before she decided she'd have to wake him up and do something about... about _everything_ that was making him sick; she wished desperately she could make it go away, but the doctor in her was clucking. "Mulder, wake up. Mulder... Mulder, wake up now." Scully had grasped his shoulders and was, gently but firmly, shaking him. "Mm," Mulder said elaborately and groaned. Quickly realizing she wouldn't have a chance to do this once he was fully lucid, Scully grabbed her thermometer off the bedside table and stuck it in his ear. <103.9.> Scully closed her eyes and concentrated on thinking of something she could possibly do to bring the fever down. At this point, nothing less than serious, IV applied, drugs would do anything. But... well, she wasn't ready to leave him in the hospital, yet. First, Scully wanted to hear his theory. "What's the matter?" Mulder croaked. "Scully, I'm sorry, what'd I do? Please, Scully, what's the matter? I'm sorry!!" He had pushed himself off the pillow as much as his weakened body could manage and was tugging at her sleeve. "Nothing. Shh, nothing." The look of terror in his eyes pained her. "I was just thinking." "Thinking about what?" "I'll tell you later." She paused, then regained her doctor mode. "Let's see if we can get you a bit more comfortable. Can you sit up for me?" She took his elbow and helped to get him upright. "All right.. let's get you out of these." Mulder looked down and noticed for the first time that his clothes were completely soaked in sweat. "I can do it." Scully frowned but decided he deserved at least a _ little_ bit of privacy. "Okay, I'll go into my room, call the minute you need something." She stepped back towards the door, still staring dubiously at her feverish partner. "Uh, right," Mulder said, struggling to stand up. Scully went into her room and stood right by the door, leaning against the wall and twiddling her thumbs, waiting to spring the second her partner showed any sign of distress. After an infinite amount of time, Scully heard Mulder moan and she popped into his room. "Whatsamatter?" She ran to his side. Mulder winced as she yelled in his ear and couldn't help the flinch when she laid her palm on his forehead when he was still recovering from the throbbing pain in his head. "Can I have some aspirin please?" he said, voice hardly above a whisper. "Sorry, Mulder, I'd love to give you some, I really would, but you swallow that on an empty stomach and I bet you anything it'll come back up to visit you in ten minutes." He flopped back down onto the bed, only he was sitting backwards, so now his head was on the foot of his bed and his feet on the pillow. Scully turned around quickly to make sure he was okay after the fall (she was feeling just a _bit_ overprotective) and found him with his eyes scrunched closed and his forehead creased in pain. "Okay, well, how 'bout this? I have some left over room service from earlier tonight. Think you can eat a little of that and then the aspirin is all yours. C'mon, sit up and we'll go into my room and eat a little something. And, _maybe_, if you're feeling okay, we can discuss the case a bit." Mulder groaned and scrubbed at his face with both fists. "That's okay, I think I'll just stay here and die... if that's okay with you." "Gee, Mulder, I've never known you to be so dramatic." "I minored in drama," he muttered from under the pillow he had pushed over his face. "Really?" "No. Can I have that aspirin?" "You need to eat something or you're gonna be puking your guts up." Very, very slowly, Mulder pushed himself up and, slower still, swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Scully followed him into her room, pushing gently on the small of his back to keep him moving, keeping one hand protectively on his lower arm to keep him upright. Once in Scully's room (that was identical to his own and he didn't understand her need to make him move to a room that looked just like his), Mulder collapsed again on her bed, but managed to stay sitting up. "Okay, let's see here..." Scully rubbed her hands together eagerly and picked up the tray with a couple of unappetizing plates of left over food from her meal earlier. She placed the food before her partner who held on his face a look of utter disgust. "Scully, I can't eat that." "Why not?" He swallowed, turning positively green. "Cause it looks like a hamster Samantha had when she was six. The hamster's name was..." He gulped again. "Fluffers." Mulder shut his eyes, forehead still scrunched against the headache that Scully knew must be killing him. Scully put a hand on his arm. "Okay, it's okay," she said gently. "How about something lighter? Some toast? Tea?" Mulder shook his head. "No, that's okay. I'm just gonna go to bed if that's okay with you." "Stay here a minute, I need to talk to you," Scully said softly. "Hold on, I'm gonna get you a wet washcloth; that'll bring down your fever a little. I bet you're pretty hot, huh?" He nodded, eyes still closed. "Okay, I'll be right back." Scully squeezed his knee and left. She returned a minute later with a washcloth. She pushed Mulder down a little so he was half-sitting up, but mostly slouched down by the pillow, and put the washcloth on his forehead. A deep shiver wracked him. "Scully," he moaned. "I'm cold." His voice cracked on "cold". He began shivering hard as if to prove it. "Scully, take it off," he said, his voice shaking. Scully pushed away his hand that was trying to remove the washcloth. "Stop-- believe me, you're going to want it when you start boiling up in a minute." "I won't," he protested hoarsely, his teeth chattering, distorting his words. "Yes, you will. That's what happens when you have a fever, you'll have the shakes one minute and think you're on fire the next." "No, I won't! I'm co-ho-ho-hold." "Mulder! A minute ago you were so hot...." She realized she was arguing for nothing. "Shh, its okay, just rest." She studied his face. "Mulder," she said softly. "You still with me? I'm gonna give you some aspirin, okay?" He nodded weakly, still shivering, and when she left and returned with 3 aspirin and a cup of water, he managed to pull himself up to swallow the pills. By now he was hot again, and kept flipping the pillows over in search of a cool spot. Finding none, he pushed the pillows aside, rolled over on the bare mattress which felt wonderfully cool against his burning skin and fell into a fitful sleep. When Scully came back from returning the cup to the bathroom, he was sound asleep. Scully thought and sighed deeply. She placed the cup on the nightstand, and considered waking Mulder again. He was in pain before, and would be again when he woke up. And maybe the aspirin would put a dent into his fever. She watched as, even when he slept, he had a pronounced grimace on his face. She decided that sleep was probably best for him and collapsed back into the chair beside Mulder's bed. She was ready to scream! At this rate she was ready to go back to Washington, dump Mulder in the hospital, give Skinner her report unfinished, and collapse into her _own_ bed. In her _own_ apartment. Only the threads of one very old case were keeping her here. And, frankly, she was ready to tear those threads out with her bear hands. she realized and then again thought about how each time he wanted to tell her a theory, his illness seemed to worsen, or he just fell asleep. Katie seemed to be back tonormal, and it was Joanna's death they seemed to be investigating, when they hadn't even solved Sarah Martin's! Scully thought and toyed with the idea of picking her cell phone up and calling Skinner for permission. But as her hand reached for the phone, she realized how lame that would sound to Skinner. Especially when he hadn't heard all the details about their case, and Scully wasn't in mood for sharing. So in the end, she fell asleep in the chair beside Mulder, her cell phone laying just within her reach. Back in Rutherford, NJ Katie Martin's room 12:13 a.m. Katie stared at the walls, listening for any source of sound. Joanna hadn't spoken for a few days, but Katie was still wary. She hoped her last sentence had driven her away for good, and so far it had. Plus, she hadn't heard from the FBI agents either. she thought. She listened to her room once more and all she heard was the faint noise coming for the TV downstairs. She smiled and shut her light, prepared to go to bed, and put Sarah's death and Joanna behind her. KATIE. Katie opened her eyes, and sat up in shock. She listened again and heard nothing but the TV. she told herself and laid back down. But she didn't close her eyes. KATIE, I KNOW YOU ARE THERE. WE HAVE TO TALK. Katie thought and swallowed hard. THE ONE AND ONLY. I BET YOU THOUGHT I WAS GONE. Katie thought angrily. NO YOU DON'T, KATIE. I HELPED YOU. YOU'RE NO LONGER IN SARAH'S SHADOW. YOU LOVE THAT. I KNOW YOU DO. TO BAD SHE HAD TO DIE, I'M REALLY SORRY ABOUT THAT. BUT IT WAS THE ONLY WAY. Katie just stared at the walls, not admitting anything. I DID SOMETHING FOR YOU, SO YOU DO SOMETHING FOR ME. I NEED YOU TO THROW SOME FBI AGENTS OFF THE TRACK. KATIE YOU HAVE TO HELP ME. IF YOU DON'T, I'LL JUST HAVE TO THROW THEM OFF THE TRACK MY WAY. AND THAT MIGHT NOT BE GOOD FOR YOU. Katie looked at the walls, Joanna's words echoing back to her. KATIE, YOU ARE SMART ENOUGH TO FIGURE THAT OUT. LISTEN, I'M NOT A BAD PERSON, JUST A TWELVE YEAR OLD THAT CAN SYMPATHIZE WITH YOU. I DIDN'T HAVE A SISTER. MY PARENTS HAD NO EXCUSE TO IGNORE ME. SO I TRIED TO GET THEM TO PAY ATTENTION, BUT IT DIDN'T WORK. IN FACT, IT BACKFIRED. I JUST DON'T WANT THOSE AGENTS TO FIND OUT ABOUT ME, IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK? Katie thought over. Katie knew if she could see Joanna, she would be smiling. GREAT. NOW I NEED YOU TO GET THEM AWAY FROM TEXAS. YES. NEAR MY HOME. AGENT MULDER TALKED TO MY MOTHER, BUT I CAN'T KEEP HIM FROM SHARING HIS THOUGHTS WITH HIS PARTNER FOR MUCH LONGER. YES, Joanna said simply, but didn't elaborate. I LET MY GUARD DOWN FOR AWHILE, I GUESS. I NEED YOU TO SAY YOU FOUND SOMETHING AND CONTACT AGENT SCULLY WITH IT. YES, CALL HER. WELL, I WANT YOU TO SAY YOU FOUND A LEAD. YES, SOME ROPE. YES, ROPE. GET IN CONTACT WITH AGENT SCULLY AND TELL HER YOU FOUND SOME ROPE INSIDE THE PIANO AT SCHOOL. YOU STOPPED BY THE PIANO STUDIO TO PICK UP SOME OF SARAH'S THINGS AND ONE OF THE STUDENTS WAS PLAYING THE PIANO. IT SOUNDED OUT OF TUNE, SO THEY OPENED THE PIANO TOP AND YOU HAPPENED TO PEER IN. AND THAT'S WHEN YOU SAW IT. THE ROPE. RELAX I'LL PUT IT THERE. DON'T WORRY. Dallas, Texas Holiday Inn 10:57 a.m. Scully surveyed the room and was glad to see it was the same it had been 20 minutes ago, including Mulder, who was still asleep on the bed in the same place he had been since 9 p.m. last night. Scully had awoken at 8:30 and waited to see if Mulder would awaken and while he stirred, he never woke. So Scully ducked into her bathroom and took a shower. So here she was, back in with Mulder brushing her wet hair, still not knowing what was going to happen today, and no where near finding a theory for the case. She placed her brush on the dresser, walked to the bed, and perched on the side. "Mulder." He didn't stir so she said it louder. "Mulder." Mulder groaned and stirred, but didn't awaken. She reached up to his forehead, frowning when she found it to be as warm as it was last night. She reached for her thermometer when she heard her cell phone ring from it's place on the dresser. She placed the thermometer down, momentarily and grabbed her cell phone. "Scully." "Agent Scully, I'm sorry to call you so early, but something happened this morning, so I found the number you left for my mom." "Who is this?" Scully asked, even though she recognized the voice as Katie Martin's. "Katie Martin." "What happened, Katie?" "Well, I was--" Katie started sobbing and Scully couldn't make out the words. "Katie, stop. I can't hear you." Scully strained her ears and the girl tried to calm down, succeeding after a few minutes. "I was at the piano studio picking up some of Sarah's things she left there, and," Katie paused, took a deep breath and continued. "and a student was there, taking an early lesson, and the piano was out of tune, and they opened it up to check it and there was-" Another pause. "a rope. Because of Sarah's death, the lady in charge called the police and they said they would call you, but I wanted to first." Katie finished on a sob. "Of course," Scully said, wishing she could comfort the girl. "We'll try to be back as soon as possible." "Thank you." Scully said goodbye, hung up, and looked Mulder and sighed for the millionth time. Rutherford, NJ 1:07 p.m. Katie hung up the phone and sighed. GOOD JOB, KATIE, Joanna's voice said, but all Katie could do was stare at the walls. Holiday Inn Dallas, Texas 11:16 a.m. Scully plopped back into the chair she had spent the night in and rolled her muscles; they ached terribly from sleeping in that same chair. Hearing Mulder groan, she forgot her own pains and moved to the bed to sit beside her stirring partner. "Mulder," she said softly, afraid he would wake and not know where he was. Placing a hand on his upper arm, she squeezed gently and said again, "Mulder. Wake up, I wanna talk to you about the case. Wake up." His eyelashes fluttered and slowly, the eyes dragged themselves open and, after a minute, managed to focus on Scully's face. "Where...?" Scully helped him sit up and handed him the glass of water she had left on the bedside table. "It's okay, you're in my room." She studied his face as he held the cup in both his hands, like a small child, and brought it up to his mouth, slowly sipping at it. After a couple of swallows he handed it back to her. "How do you feel about going back to New Jersey?" Scully had expected him to light up, but instead he turned a frightening shade of green and shuddered. Placing a hand on his shoulder, Scully tried to get him to meet her eyes. Finally, she held his chin and turned his face. "What's the matter?" He didn't answer. "Do you want to go back to DC, and we can get you in a hospital?" He shook his head. "I wanna stay with you," he said hoarsely. Scully sighed. "Okay, that means you're going to New Jersey. I promised Katie Martin we'd come, police there found a new piece of evidence." Mulder cocked his head. "What?" "A rope. She didn't give details. I'm thinking we should go to New Jersey and visit the local police and see what they found in the rope. How's that sound?" He seemed to have zoned out, his eyes, unfocused, not really looking, but directed towards the door. "We need to go to the Wasserman's." "No, _we_ don't. You already did, after you ditched me, remember?" Mulder bit his lip and seemed to seriously consider this. "I ditched you?" "Yeah, when you ran out of that cheap motel and caught a one a.m. flight to Dallas." The look on his face was one of poor confusion. "Dallas..... we're in Dallas?" Scully's frown deepened. "Yeah, Dallas. You okay?" Still gazing towards the door, he coughed a little, and a hand came up to rub the area where his throat met his chest. "Yeah," he said slowly. "Uh huh." A pause. "New Jersey?" "Hold still a minute, Mulder, I wanna take your temperature." He didn't respond at all, just kept staring. Scully stuck the thermometer in his ear. <104.1> "Mulder, lie down. I'm going to the store for some medicine, don't go anywhere." He didn't do anything. Very gently, Scully pushed him down to the pillow, and pulled the blankets over him since he had begun to shiver uncontrollably. "I'll be right back," she promised, smoothing his bangs. Joanna's room Rutherford, NJ 1:21 p.m. MM? NOTHING MUCH.... JUST TRYING TO THROW THE FBI AGENTS OFF COURSE. I PUT SOME FINGERPRINTS ON THE ROPE AND.... SOME OTHER STUFF. YOU KNOW HOW THEY SAY YOUR SISTER WAS STRANGLED? <...Yeah?> YEAH, WELL. WELL, YOU'LL SEE. BUT, I PUT MICHAEL AUSTIN'S FINGERPRINTS ON IT A KILLER JUST A KILLER. HE'S ON THE TEN MOST WANTED LIST. A REAL NASTY GUY, HE STRANGLES ALL HIS VICTIMS, FROM BEHIND, SO QUICKLY, THEY NEVER SEE HIM. BUT, HE NEVER DOES IT WHEN ANYONE ELSE IS AROUND, I MEAN, THAT WOULD BE A LITTLE OBVIOUS. HE'S MY INSPIRATION, ACTUALLY CONNECTICUT. CLOSE ENOUGH she admitted, She scowled. THANKS.... I THINK.... WAS THAT A COMPLIMENT? WELL, I'M NOT SURE. THE LADY IS DEFINITELY COMING, SHE'S TRYING TO GET RID OF THIS CASE AND SHE THINKS THE ROPE THING MIGHT HELP HER SOLVE IT AND _FINISH IT_. BUT SHE MIGHT LEAVE HER PARTNER OFF IN DC, I'M NOT SURE. HE'S REALLY SICK RIGHT NOW. IF YOU WANT, I CAN MAKE HIM GET BETTER SO HE COMES ALONG FOR THE RIDE TOO WELL.... WE COULD KILL HIM OFF..... Joanna said, and atie could almost see her rubbing her hands together eagerly. Katie reprimanded. She laughed out loud and so did Joanna. 104.1. YOU WANT IT HIGHER? PROBABLY. I DUNNO, THIS GUY'S GOT SOME WEIRD MEDICAL PROBLEMS, I'M NOT SURE I WANT TO MESS WITH IT. I'D SAY, WE CAN GET TO 104.7. AND IF I BRING IT UP REALLY QUICK, SAY WHILE HIS PARTNER IS AT THE DRUG STORE RIGHT NOW, THAT SHOULD GIVE THEM A SCARE. Katie said. She grinned and laughed out loud, proud of herself. Holiday Inn Dallas, Texas 11:49 a.m. "Mulder?" Scully called his name as she walked in the room. Looking over at the bed, she was relived to see his eyes were open and, though glazed over with fever and unfocused, he seemed to be conscious. "Sorry that took so long, it's raining pretty hard and the traffic here is horrible," Scully stopped, realizing he wasn't listening. Moving quickly, she sat down at the edge of his bed and he looked up, noticing her for the first time. "Hi," he said weakly. "Hey, how are you feeling?" Mulder didn't respond to that, just closed his eyes and bowed his head. "Yeah, I bet," Scully said. "Look, though, I got you a nice assortment of drugs. Cause guess what yours truly left at the motel in Rutherford?" "What?" Mulder asked. "Your medicine!!! Some doctor I am, I left all those good drugs Doctor Andrews gave you back in some cheap New Jersey motel. Bet some addict's having a good time with those, huh?" Mulder shrugged, indifferent. Frankly, his number one priority at this moment was slipping down under the covers and melting (he certainly felt hot enough to) but he thought he should wait till Scully left the room, seeing as he wouldn't want to leave her with the responsibility of cleaning up the mess. Scully studied him, noticed his eyelids were beginning to droop and decided she might as well get some medicine in him before he fell asleep again. Standing up, she went into the bathroom for a fresh cup of water for him to swallow all the pills with. "Scully, come back, I'm sorry, I promise I won't melt," Mulder was calling after her desperately. She rushed back to his side. "It's okay... don't worry you didn't do anything." "Scully." Mulder was struggling to get her attention. He managed to pull himself up. "Scully," he said as loud as he could. "Yeah?" Mulder bit his lip and stared down at his lap. "I don't feel good," he said, and he sounded sheepish, as though he was admitting something. Scully squeezed his hand. "I know, but now you're going to take some medicine and get some sleep and you'll feel better soon." "No, I _really_ don't feel good," he said, his voiced stressed. Scully thought, remembering all the scares he'd given her on this case. When he'd ditched her for Texas... when he'd stopped breathing in the hospital that time... "Scully," he moaned. "I think something's wrong. I really don't feel good. I... I think I might have a fever. I'm really hot." A strange noise came from his throat, almost a wrenched sob. Tear tracks ran down his face. "Shhh, don't cry." Scully wrapped her arms around him. "I know, Mulder. You're really sick and as soon as we can move you, you're going home, okay? Shhh, it's okay. It's okay." Mulder continued to cry in Scully's arms. He knew she was saying something important that he should be listening to but the effort to concentrate was just too much and the pounding in his head was too loud to hear above anyway. The sobbing brought unbelievable pain to his raw throat and he tried to stop but it just made him cry harder. Then the feeling that he was on fire disappeared as quickly as it had come and he began shivering, deep and hard, so bad he thought he'd never stop. And Scully held him through it, hugging him close to her own body. And when he finally slipped off, away from all the pain that had control of his body, she was still holding him. Very, very gingerly, Scully eased Mulder's sleeping form down on the bed. Scully found it, under all the junk on the bedside table and stuck it in his ear. One of four point seven. That couldn't be right, there was no way it could be that high. Scully cleared the thermometer and tried it again. Still one oh four seven. What was she going to do? Scully stared at the thermometer again. It didn't change. 104.7. That fever _had_ to come down. Scully went to the dresser and fingered her cell phone, and thought about dialing 911. She looked at the buttons as her mind seemed to be having a tug of war. She knew Mulder would not like waking up in another hospital. But he was so out of it as it was........ As if he was reading her thoughts, Mulder stirred and opened his eyes half-way. The glazed-over hazel orbs searched the room not really focusing, just searching. Finally they landed on Scully, and seemed, if just for a second, to focus. "Scully," he mumbled. Or Scully hoped it was Scully, she couldn't be sure. So, she just stroked his hair, hoping he would go back to sleep. "You won't bring me back to the hospital yet? Right?" He sounded like a five year, trying to prolong his bedtime. His eyes opened all the way and just stared at her pleading. "You can bring me later, but, please not yet." The words sounded surprisingly lucid for someone with such a high fever. Scully just looked at him, and kept stroking his hair. "Not yet," she promised, crossing her fingers on her other hand as she said it. Mulder didn't seem to notice. Satisfied at her answer, he drifted back to sleep. Scully carefully eased up the bed, sat back in her chair, and grabbed her cell phone to make some calls. Rutherford, NJ Martins' residence 5:45 p.m. Katie sat in front of the big bay window and gazed out. The streets were deserted because of the darkening skies. It was going to rain soon. Katie thought as she gazed at the wind blowing the leaves back and forth. IF THEY GET ONE. NEWARK AIRPORT IS BEING HIT BY A HUGE STORM. IT'S SUPPOSED TO HIT HERE IN FIFTEEN MINUTES. HURRICANE WINDS. NO AIRPLANE IS FLYING INTO NEWARK, AND NO PLANE IS LEAVING NEWARK. DAMN!! I CAN'T DO THAT! I _REALLY_ WISH I COULD, BUT I CAN'T. I DO HAVE SOME LIMIT TO MY RESOURCES. MOTHER NATURE CONTROLS THE WEATHER, NOT ME. I THINK SO. I JUST HOPE AGENT SCULLY DOESN'T GO LOOKING FOR HER PARTNER'S THEORIES. Joanna was silent for a minute. Then Katie heard a sigh of content. MAYBE YOU ARE RIGHT. I _DO_ ALWAYS TEND TO OVERREACT. THIS WILL WORK. A KILLER ON THE TEN MOST WANTED LIST WILL BE BLAMED. YOU AND I ARE IN THE CLEAR. Katie finally pulled herself away from the window. Joanna laughed. WE WOULD HAVE. BUT WHO SAYS I HAVE TO GO? WE STILL CAN HAVE FUN. Katie smiled as she thought that over. Dallas, Texas Holiday Inn 4:30 p.m. Scully was _frustrated_. She had tried to get a flight out to New Jersey, but because of a storm, they were no flights in Newark Airport. She had checked Mulder's temperature and was happy to see it had gone down a half. It was still 104.1, but at least it had gone down _some_. So, when she was sure Mulder was sound asleep and definitely not going anywhere, she had stepped out for awhile. She returned with the large pharmacy bag full of most of the drugs she had left behind in New Jersey. She had made another long-distance phone call and called him in New Jersey and had him phone the pharmacy and call in the meds. she thought as she opened the door to her room. If she could get his fever down, she could keep the promise Mulder wanted her too. But as soon as she walked into the room she realized that promise was going to harder to keep. She was greeted by the sound of retching from the bathroom and glanced at the bed. It was empty, the blankets thrown carelessly to the floor. She ran to the bathroom and found his head over the toilet. Nothing was coming up; he hadn't eaten in days. He was probably still dehydrated, too. She bend down next to him and rubbed his back. He hardly noticed her until he turned his head. "Scully. Sorry you saw the show," he said hoarsely, trying to smile but instead grimacing. Scully immediately felt his forehead, and for once Mulder didn't bat her hand away. She frowned and helped him up. "Come on, we have to get you to bed," she said and lead him to the bed. "I'm still..." Mulder trailed off, but Scully got the idea. "Nauseous?" Scully finished. Mulder nodded as Scully gently pushed him back down to the bed. "Well, I got you something for that." She gestured to the bag on the dresser and took something out of it and then rummaged through her medical bag as well. Mulder blinked, and tried to concentrate on Scully, but his mind couldn't stay focused. The world was spinning and all he wanted to do was throw it up. Even more so when Scully turned around with a needle it her hand. "What?.." Mulder said at the highest decibel he could manage. "Sorry, Mulder, but I can't give it to you in pill form. You'd probably throw it up in two minutes and then it wouldn't do anything it was supposed to do." She lifted his shirt and went for his hip. Mulder grimaced when the needle went in, but after a few minutes the nausea wasn't so bad and he was tired again. He felt Scully push him into a more comfortable position just before he feel asleep. Katie's Room Rutherford, NJ 4:35 a.m. Katie couldn't sleep. The rain pounded unceasingly on the roof, unbearably noisy in the silence. She had already been up to the bathroom twice and once checked in on her parents but they were sleeping peacefully so she left them alone. She tried. She had attempted to reach Joanna several times before during the night but it appeared even the mighty Joanna Wasserman could sleep through a thunderstorm. UHN?? Joanna's voice was groggy. I AM NOW. WHAT? Katie said again. BORED?? HOW CAN YOU BE BORED? IT'S 3 IN THE MORNING <4:37, actually. Soooo... what's up?> NOTHING. I WAS SLEEPING. SHEESH RELATING TO THE FBI AGENTS? Katie thought she heard Joanna sigh, then the voice said, OKAY, I'M ALL EARS, WHAT IS IT? TALK TO HIM? YOU CALL THAT AN IDEA?? HEY..... CAN YOU TRY TO BE JUST A LITTLE LESS CHEERFUL? IT'S ONLY 4:37 IN THE MORNING! <4:38 now. Sure, I'll try.> Katie lay there in the dark for a minute, then kicked off the blankets. YOU JOG? Katie sat up, flipped on the light and started to pull on her running shoes and a sweatshirt over her pajamas. Joanna sighed. I GUESS SO. WHAT ELSE IS THERE TO DO AT THIS GOD FORSAKEN HOUR? AND WE CAN DISCUSS THIS WHOLE MICHAEL AUSTIN IDEA WHILE WE'RE GOING. WILL YOUR PARENTS MIND? Katie laughed. Holiday Inn Dallas, Texas 4:39 a.m. Was the first thing that came to Mulder's mind as he slowly emerged from a drug and fever and pure exhaustion induced sleep. He sat up slowly and realized it was partially because he was minus his shirt. A fist came up to scrub his face and he realized how weird he felt..... a dizzy, blurry, half-nauseous feeling that was familiar but he couldn't pinpoint it. He tried to think back to the past few hours. His head was beginning to pound from thinking so hard and he decided what he really needed was a run. He knew the reasonable thing to do was put on a shirt so he recovered his old one (a bit sweaty but no worse for the wear) and slipped it over his head. Mulder's mind drifted back to a time when he'd been sick and had woken up the next morning in Scully's bed with his underwear on.... and _only_ his underwear on. Oh, yes, that was the time he'd been drugged. Mulder looked over, squinting to see in the dark room and saw Scully collapsed in an armchair. And with that, Mulder ran out into the November night. Rutherford, NJ 6:56 a.m. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? I CAN'T DO THAT.... THAT WOULD BE INSULTING HIM! NO GREAT ARTIST TURNS HIMSELF IN! AND SO ARE YOU, MISSY! She laughed. THE FINGERPRINT THING IS OKAY. LET'S JOG OVER TO THE PIANO STUDIO AND I'LL PUT SOME OF MICHAEL AUSTIN'S FINGERPRINTS ON THE PIANO AND THE AREA AROUND I _THINK_ HE'S STILL IN CONNECTICUT. I MEAN, HE GREW UP THERE AND LIVED THERE FOR HIS WHOLE LIFE SO THAT'S WHERE HE KNOWS BEST AND THAT'S WHERE HE CAN PERFORM HIS ART WITHOUT GETTING CAUGHT Katie laughed. WHAT CAN I SAY? THE MAN'S GOT SKILL. C'MON, LET'S GO TO THE PIANO STUDIO They turned the corner and headed towards the piano studio. Dallas, Texas 5:46 a.m. Mulder was beginning to think he'd better stop. He was currently hunched over in an alley, gasping for breath and wishing his head would stop pounding. Besides, he was _freezing_. Mulder's eyes scanned the street but he couldn't remember which way he'd come from. He started to walk towards the right, rubbing at the painful stitch in his side when he spotted a car driving his way. He waved his hands and the car pulled over. The driver was a nice looking guy, around Mulder's age, in a suit, looking for all the world like he wished he was back home with his family rather than driving around. He rolled down the window near Mulder. "Hey, man, what're you doing out in a neighborhood like this at this hour?" "Uh, just going for a jog," Mulder said and he was shocked how raw his throat was when he spoke. "Could tell me which way the Holiday Inn is?" "You're a tourist, huh? Figures. Well, the Holiday Inn is _way_ down that way, see, straight then take a left, then a right, then go till the stop sign at Green Street where you gotta take another left then.... hey, I'm going that way, you want a ride?" Mulder was still pissed at being called a tourist. "Actually, I'm an FBI agent doing a case here. Yeah, could you give me a lift please?" "Sure, hop in." The man opened the door for Mulder. "Jeez, you made it this far, how long've you been out?" Mulder slid in and shut the door. "I dunno. I don't have my watch on." The man looked over at Mulder, noticed the tips of his ears and his cheeks modeled a deep crimson color. "Why're you wearing short sleeves in this weather? You're nuts! You must be freezing!" The man lay a hand on his hitchhiker's arm, expecting to feel it cold but was shocked when he felt the heat radiating off Mulder. "Damn, what's the matter? You sick or something?" Mulder stared at the dashboard. "Maybe. I dunno, I might be." To tell the truth, he was beginning to feel like death warmed over and wondered why he hadn't noticed it earlier. The man stared worriedly at him. "Look, you look really bad, why don't you go see a doctor or something. Or go to the hospital... all right, man, here we are, Holiday Inn. You take care of yourself, hear? And, you know what? My wife's a doctor, if you want, you can come with me and she'll check you out." "No, that's okay, I have Scully." Mulder coughed and opened the door. "Scully? What's that?" "My partner. No, not _that_ kind of partner, my partner at the FBI. She's a doctor too." The man was still staring at him dubiously. "Well, all right, but take care of yourself, and no more jogs at 5 in the morning, you got that?" Mulder smiled a little and nodded. "Yeah. Bye. Thanks." The man watched his hitchhiker walk off, slowly, and prayed he would be okay. The man might not be considered gentle, but he was very sensitive and seeing a stranger like that, in trouble, concerned him. He just hoped the FBI agent would be okay. As he pulled off the curb, he heard a click, like a phone being picked up, then a voice, saying, "Thanks, Michael, you did the right thing. I don't _like_ the FBI agent, but I wouldn't want him dead either. And, hey, what are you doing in Texas? You're supposed to stay in Connecticut, that's where you do your art best!" Michael gasped and drove off as fast as he could. Holiday Inn Dallas, Texas 6:02 a.m. It took Mulder forever to get up the 12 flights of stairs (the elevators weren't running, apparently, the owners didn't think anyone needed to use them at 6 in the morning), and when he reached the door, Scully was waiting for him, and Scully was _mad_. "What the fuck do you mean you thought you'd go for a run???" Mulder cowered back in his place on the bed where his partner had thrown him as soon as he'd stepped through the threshold to hell. "My head hurt, I wanted to clear it." "Oh, yeah, _clear it_" Scully repeated. Mulder thought. "I bet your throat hurts too, huh Mulder? And I bet you had trouble catching your breath and your chest hurts...." "Oh yeah, Scully, I'm supposed to tell you that I think I'm getting sick. Could you check me out please?" Scully stared at him incredulously for so long Mulder thought she might've stopped breathing. "Mulder, what are you talking about?? You _know_ you're sick, you've been sick since we started the case, remember?" At his blank expression she began to get worried. "No? Stay there, I'll be right back." Scully ran back to her room to get her thermometer and stuck it in his ear. 104.5, up again. Mulder lay back on the bed with his eyes closed. He said softly, "Do I have a fever? The man said I might." Scully dismissed it. "Yes, you do." She lay her cool hand on his forehead. "That feel good?" He nodded slowly. "Yeah, I bet it does." She stood up to go get her magic bag of medicine but he sprang up and grabbed her arm. "Don't go!" Scully eased him back on the bed. "I just need to get some medicine to bring down that fever. You're radio-active. Relax, I'll be right back." She walked back to her room and found the medicine. With a bit of coaxing, she got half a cup of water and several pills in him. "You'll have to drink more later," she told him. "You're dehydrated. Did you know that?" Mulder shook his head. "I thought I might have a cold, but I wasn't sure," he said. Scully watched as his eyes slipped closed and his breathing evened out. She went back to her room and sat down on the bed. Why wasn't Mulder remembering anything?? Outside the piano studio Rutherford, NJ 8:02 a.m. Katie and Joanna were outside the piano studio, talking. Joanna had already put Michael Austin's fingerprints on the area around the crime scene but they didn't feel like going back home quite yet. WELL, HE DIDN'T EXACTLY SAY ANYTHING. TURNS OUT HE'S IN DALLAS. YEAH. ACTUALLY, THAT'S WHERE IT GETS INTERESTING. SEE, HE PICKED MULDER OFF THE STREET; MULDER HAD GONE OUT FOR A _REALLY_ EARLY MORNING JOG AND HAD GOTTEN LOST AND MICHAEL FOUND HIM AND BROUGHT HIM BACK TO THE HOLIDAY INN. WELL, UH.... THAT'S SOMETHING ELSE I HAVE TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT. SEE, I HAD TO PULL OUT. YEAH, OUR FAVORITE FBI AGENT WAS SUFFERING A BIT OF... WELL, SORTA BRAIN DAMAGE SO I HAD TO STOP CONTROLLING HIM. BEFORE I WAS RAISING AND LOWERING HIS FEVER, ADDING SYMPTOMS AND STUFF BUT I WAS MESSING WITH HIS MIND TOO MUCH, HE HAD BEGUN TO FORGET THINGS. HE STILL IS, BUT THAT'LL GET BETTER LIKE...... HE HAD NO IDEA HE WAS SICK, THAT'S WHY HE WENT OUT FOR A JOG. HE THOUGHT HE WAS PERFECTLY HEALTHY; HE COMPLETELY FORGOT. AND HE'S PROBABLY NOT AWARE THAT HE'S STILL ON OUR CASE; HE THINKS HE'S ON A CASE BUT YOU SAY "SARAH MARTIN" AND HE'LL SAY, "YEAH, WHO'S THAT?" IT'S SHORT TERM MEMORY STUFF, HE KNOWS HIS NAME AND EVERYTHING... AND HIS PARTNER. HEY, RELAX, IT'LL GO AWAY BY TOMORROW, IT'S JUST THE AFTERMATH OF ME MESSING WITH HIM Katie knew this was turning serious but she didn't want to aggravate Joanna. I'M NOT EXACTLY SURE BUT IT LOOKS LIKE HE'S GIVEN UP HIS ART FORM AND IS A BUSINESS MAN NOW. HE'S GOT A WIFE AND TWO KIDS.... Joanna smiled. I HAVE MY WAYS. Dallas, Texas Holiday Inn 9:30 a.m. Three and a half hours had passed since Mulder had decided to "go out for awhile." Scully eyed his sleeping form on the bed. She grabbed her own cell phone, totally ignoring the phone beside the bed. She looked at the buttons and decided to set a deadline. If Mulder's temp wasn't down by 5 o'clock this afternoon, she was taking him to the hospital. No questions asked. The storm in New Jersey seemed to have passed, and flights were running again, but Scully didn't want to leave Mulder here, even if it was in a hospital. She paced the room, thinking. She looked at her phone again and decided to dial through to the police in Rutherford. Her cell phone bill was going to be _huge_, but she could care less at this moment. She'd write it on the expense report. The expense report that was going up daily. She could only image what it would look like when the case was finally closed. _If_ it was ever closed. After calling information and getting some numbers Scully found herself on the phone with an Officer Carlton Brown. "After sending the rope through ballistics we were able to find some fingerprints. Belonging to a Michael Austin. But..." Brown trailed off. "But, what?" Scully shifted her weight from on foot to the other. "But, Mr. Austin lives in Dallas, Texas. And his wife saw him on the day of the murder. About 4 hours before it happened. If gives him a window, but a very, very small one. Still it's the only lead we have. We double-checked the crime scene once again early this morning to see it we could be mistaken, but we only turned up more of Mr. Austin's fingerprints. Which we seem to have missed the first time around." "Missed?" "Yes," Brown admitted, and sounded sheepish. "Though I thought we were very through that first time. Now, we have Mr. and Mrs. Martin on our backs. The newspaper is getting hold of the paper. We only called Dr. Austin, Michael Austin's wife, last night, while he was out. We haven't talked to him yet, and we are yet to charge him. But with the evidence we seem to be gathering, we may have to soon." Scully thought this over. "You sound reluctant," she said carefully. "Well, I am," the officer admitted. "To be quite frank, Agent Scully, I'm getting a very weird feeling about this whole thing." Scully thought as she thanked the officer and hung up. Rutherford, NJ 3:02 p.m. Katie checked the street as though she expected someone to jump in front of her and kill her. She had spent her school day worrying about what would happen if she and Joanna where somehow connected and now she was checking the streets. she realized as she ran to her door and went inside. WE BOTH ARE, Joanna said. Katie smiled. YEP. THINGS ARE LOOKING UP. MULDER IS STILL SICK, BUT HE WILL IMPROVE. I THINK EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE OKAY. YOU CAN BECOME THE CENTER OF YOUR PARENTS LIFE. SOMETHING I NEVER WAS. Joanna sounded sad, forlorn. IT WASN'T HORRIBLE. IT WAS JUST LONELY. MY PARENTS NEVER WANTED A KID. I WAS JUST A "MISTAKE." I HEARD MY DAD SAY THAT ONCE. I THINK THEY LOOKED FOR ANY REASON TO KNOCK ME OFF. I DIDN'T SAY THAT. BUT DON'T THINK I NEVER WONDERED. I WONDER EVERY DAY. BUT YOU DON'T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT THAT. I CAN MAKE SURE YOUR PARENTS PAY ATTENTION TO YOU. DON'T WORRY. DON'T WORRY, Joanna repeated, but somehow her words didn't seem reassuring. Dallas, Texas Holiday Inn 3:22 p.m. "Hey, Scully." Scully looked up from her files to find Mulder awake and looking surprisely better and even near lucid. Her face broke into a smile. "Hey, yourself." She got up and walked to the bed and sat down, reaching her hand for his forehead as she sat. It felt cooler than before. She reached for her thermometer and stuck it into his ear. She was surprised to hear no agrument from Mulder; she frowned at that. Mulder just looked at her, wondering why she was frowning. The thermometer beeped and Scully looked at it. 103.7. she thought, but frowned again when Mulder began coughing. "Scully, what's wrong?" he asked, as soon as he stopped coughing. "And what am I doing in your room?" He looked at his surroundings, trying to remember what happened. "Mulder, you're sick. Don't you remember?" she asked, concern written all over her face. "Sick. Right...." he said, unsure of his words. He struggled to remember, but he seemed to be drawing a big blank. Scully's look of concern deepened and she leaned closer to him, studying his face. Mulder suddenly grew very self-conscious of himself. He burrowed deeper under the covers, suddenly cold. But that just seemed to make Scully's concern grow. "Quit looking at me like that," he mumbled, and suddenly threw the covers off. "It's hot." "I know," she said gently as she walked into the bathroom. She returned a minute later with some water and to aspirin in her hand. "Drink this and take these." Mulder did both with no comment. Scully frowned the whole time, but was relieved to see him drink the whole glass. After he was done, she set the glass next the bed. She sighed. She had no idea what to do. Mulder was acting out of character, and he didn't seem to recall the events that happened only this morning. Taking him to a hospital was becoming a _very_ good idea. But she had promised him. Of course, he was semi-lucid at the time. "Scully, stop being so quiet," Mulder said quietly and started to sit up. Scully pushed him down. "I'm sorry, Mulder. Didn't mean to scare you." She brushed his hair off his forehead and noticed how sweat-soaked it was. "Mulder, do you remember what happened this morning?" Mulder looked her strangely. "This morning?" He swallowed and was surprised to find his throat so sore. He felt like he was swallowing a rock. "Throat hurt?" Scully asked sympathetically. Mulder nodded. Scully reached into her bag and pulled out some cough medicine. She reached for a spoon from the decaying room service dishes and poured some cough syrup on it. "Open up," she coaxed. Mulder eyed the spoon. "Cough syrup?" "Yep. And the bottle says it tastes just like cherry," she joked. "That's the worst kind. Fake-cherry taste." But Mulder opened up anyway. "One of the side-effects of this stuff is drowsiness," Scully said, putting the spoon away. "So you should get some sleep." Mulder wanted to open his mouth to protest. He really did. But his eyelids weren't cooperating. Before he knew it, he was sound asleep. Holiday Inn Dallas, Texas 9:55 a.m. Scully was there when he woke up with that same blurry, fuzzy, half-nauseous feeling he had woken up with the morning before. He was slow in opening his eyes and even slower in registering where he was. "Hey, there. You awake now?" Scully asked gently. He licked his lips. "Yeah," he said hoarsely. Scully handed him a cup of water and aspirin and he swallowed it. "You were half up a couple times. You called me but when I came all you said was 'Stay here now'. Maybe.... five times last night. You didn't let me get much sleep, Mister," she joked. He shrugged and swallowed, grimacing. "Sorry." A hand came up instinctively to his forehead. "You're still pretty warm. How would you feel about another dose of that cough syrup?" "How would you feel about getting wacked over the head with a two by four?" "That bad? You drank it yesterday with no complaint.... seemed to do you good for a while." "It was a suicide attempt," Mulder said blandly. "Right. Didn't it taste like cherry??" Scully was inspecting the bottle. "See, there's lotsa fun stuff in here.... some alcohol..., it didn't taste like cherry?" "Earwax," Mulder said. "Earwax," Scully repeated. "Really. Well that's interesting. How 'bout another couple spoonfuls?" Mulder whimpered. "Do I _have_ to??" Scully eyed him. "It'll make you feel better. After you drink this we'll see what we can do about getting you something for the throat, too." Mulder sighed. "What about the headache?" "Um... aspirin?" "Didn't I just have some of that?" "Then what are you complaining for!? Here, just drink this then you can have some water to wash out the taste." Reluctantly, her partner opened his mouth and swallowed the medicine. "There, that wasn't so bad." Scully smiled at him and returned the cap to the bottle. "Speak for yourself," he croaked and slid back into the bed. "Can I get up now?" Scully grinned. "What's so funny? I wanna get up!" She kept laughing so Mulder took the opportunity to sit up and slide out of bed and was almost to the door when a firm hand pushed him back on the bed. "Mulder, you _know_ you can't go out." "Fine." He scowled. "Fine, well can I work?" "On _what_, do you suggest? I don't know if you've noticed but we've reached a major stand-still on our case. We're not gonna get anything done till you get better?" "Why?" "Because, we need to go check out the status on a certain Mr. Michael Austin. Wait here a minute." Scully went over to the dresser and returned with a photo of Michael Austin the Rutherford Police had faxed her. She sat down on the corner of Mulder's bed and waved the picture in front of him. "Fox Mulder, meet Michael Austin. Fox, Michael, Michael, Fox." "Don't call me that," Mulder growled and took the picture from her. He studied it closely, squinting against a headache and trying to concentrate. "He looks familiar... did we ever study his case or anything?" "Nope," Scully said. She took the picture back and replaced it in the folder. "Michael Austin is thirty-five years old. He's been a suspect in several strangulation murders around the Tri-state area but has never been convicted. Plus, he always seems to conveniently disappear right after every crime is committed. His fingerprints were found all over the crime scene.... well, under first inspection they just found some of Joanna Wasserman's and, of course, Sarah's own. After the notorious "rope" was found, and they saw Michael Austin's prints on it, they rechecked the crime scene and found at least a dozen new sets of fingerprints: all Michael Austin's. Here, look at this." Scully handed him a brief report the Rutherford police had put together. Mulder held it in front of his face, squinted, moved the paper closer and further from his viewpoint but couldn't seem to get the words to focus. He looked over at Scully for help but she was busy reading another report. He looked back at the paper, the words swimming before his eyes and, suddenly feeling incredibly dizzy and nauseous, had to close his eyes. Several minutes later, Scully looked back at her partner and found him with his knees bent up to his chest, head between his knees, eyes scrunched closed (from what she could see), the report she had given him discarded to the side. Feeling horrible she had left him with work when he couldn't handle it, Scully began to hover; rubbing his back, trying to get him to look up, begging him to tell her what was wrong. "Leave me alone," he muttered between clenched teeth. "What's the matter?? Mulder, talk to me!" "Nothing," he said, his voice muffled from his current position. "I just got a little nauseous reading the report." Scully sighed, half in relief, half angry at herself for letting him work. "_Trying_ to read you mean. You probably didn't get anywhere. I don't know what I was thinking, I'm really sorry, Mulder. I don't know what I was thinking, you weren't ready for that." He hadn't moved and she was wondering whether he was listening. "Mulder?" Mulder heard his name being called but he was too tired to answer. The exhaustion had crept up on him suddenly but he couldn't figure it out. "Tired," he yelled, or maybe he whispered, he wasn't quite sure at this point. "I know," Scully said, rubbing his back. "It's that cough medicine, it puts you to sleep. It's supposed to have a 'side effect of drowsiness' but its particularly effective on you, apparently. C'mere, lie down and sleep it off." She helped him uncurl from his near fetal position, then pulled the covers over him. The Martins' Kitchen Rutherford, NJ 11:56 a.m. "Good morning to you too, sleepy head," Buster Martin said when Katie finally stumbled downstairs close to noon. Katie collapsed in a chair. "Coffee," she mumbled under her breath. "Get me some coffee." Her mother laughed. "Not yet, honey. When you turn thirteen, okay?" Katie mumbled something else incoherently then stood up and turned towards the steps. "I'm going back to my room," she muttered. Her parents looked up at her worriedly. "How late were you up last night?" her mother asked. "You don't even want to know." Holiday Inn Dallas, Texas 4:00 p.m. "That's the man!!!!!!!" Scully looked up from the case folder she had been reading. She was beginning to seriously regret letting Mulder work again. His temperature remained at a steady 102.9 but he seemed able to function fairly well for the moment so Scully left him alone. "Scully, that's the man!" her partner repeated. Scully let out a long sigh. "What man?" "The man that... the..., oh, c'mon,you know. The man that..." Mulder bit his lip in frustration and stared down at his lap. "The man," he said again softly. "You know, the _man_." She sighed again and rubbed his back comfortingly. He hadn't been able to remember several recent events and the frustration apparent in his eyes almost made her cry. "It's okay, Mulder, you'll think of it later." "I guess so," he muttered. He took a deep breath and let it out in slow intervals. "I'm gonna stop now." "Okay," Scully said gently. She took the folders off his lap and helped him lay down. Noticing he was squinting, she shut off the light by the bed. "Does your head hurt?" He nodded slowly and let his eyes drift shut. Scully watched him drift off and picked up the folder Mulder had been looking at. The picture of Michael Austin fell out. Scully bent down and picked it up, Mulder's words running through her mind. ("That's the man!") she thought; her brow furrowed in her own frustration. That would make sense, but she knew Mulder didn't mean that. If he did, he would have remembered more clearly. Deep down she hoped he meant that Michael Austin was the killer. Then they could get this case behind them. Hell, that night in Florida was less stressful! Rutherford, NJ 7:15 p.m. Katie thought as she rubbed her tired eyes. She had felt her parents prying eyes on her all day and she was getting seriously annoyed. She wished they would just leave her alone. But she didn't say that. She had enough of wishing, for awhile at least. I LIKED DAYS OFF, TOO. BUT MY PARENTS NEVER WORRIED ABOUT ME. HOW DOES IT FEEL? Katie was grumpy, tired, and beginning to worry about the FBI agents again. Joanna picked up on this. DON'T WORRY THE FBI AGENTS ARE STILL IN TEXAS. MULDER IS STILL SICK. THEY WILL BE THERE A FEW DAYS AT LEAST. WHY AREN'T YOU HAPPY? YOU THE CENTER OF YOUR PARENTS LIFE. THAT'S WHAT YOU WANTED, RIGHT? Katie thought sadly, Joanna was silent a minute. YOU'RE CRAZY. SHE WAS PERFECT JUST CAUSE SHE WANTED TO PISS YOU OFF. SHE _WANTED_ TO BE THE APPLE OF HER PARENTS EYE. SHE _WANTED_ TO STEAL THE SPOTLIGHT. SHE WANTED TO BE THE BEST, REGARDLESS OF HOW SHE HURT YOU. The way Joanna said those words, the bitterness she used, caused Katie to get angry at Sarah. The pity she had been feeling a minute ago disappeared, and bitterness seemed to replace it. THAT'S THE SPIRIT! And with that, Katie stormed down into Sarah's room. It was perfect, untouched since her death. The bed was made, just the way Sarah made it each morning. The books lined her book case, all alphabetized. Not on thing was on the floor. Katie's parents hadn't touched the room since Sarah's death. It was kept in the same way it had been when Sarah last left it. Katie stared at the room. The perfect bed. The perfect books. The perfect floor. Suddenly Katie grew angry from it all. She wanted to trash the room. She wanted to ruin the perfect image her sister had left behind. DO IT, Joanna coaxed. That's all Katie needed. She suddenly went crazy. She tore the covers off the bed. She threw all the books around the room. She poured Sarah's nail polish on the nice neat carpet. When she was done, she looked back in satifaction. she thought with a smile. Dallas, Texas Holiday Inn 6:45 p.m. Mulder actually surprised Scully by eating something. Not much but something. Scully was happy at least he had eaten something. Twenty minutes later, she was rubbing his back as he threw it all back up. she thought as she helped him get back into bed. "I can give you something to help the nausea," Scully offered, after she had settled him into bed. "No," Mulder said, almost shouting. "I don't need any more shots." Scully smiled at the fact he remembered the last shot. Maybe things were looking up. He _did_ seem more lucid, and his temp was 102.7. Still up there, but it seemed to be slowly coming down. Still, he had a long way to go. "It will calm your stomach," Scully coaxed and was already going threw her bag. "You haven't even anything for a long time, Mulder. You can't even seem to keep water down. And if you do, as soon as you eat some food, it comes right back up." Scully had gone into her "doctor-mode" and Mulder sighed in frustration. "I fall asleep from that stuff," he complained. "And then I still feel fuzzy after I wake up." Scully had already gotten the needle out, but put it down to talk to him. "Mulder, I know it does. But it's this or the hospital. Take you pick." Mulder groaned. "I guess you win." "I usually do," Scully replied with a smile and picked the needle back up. Five minutes later Mulder was watching her threw half-closed eyes, fighting to stay awake. He looked at Scully's eyes and saw the dark circles under her eyes. "Scully, you need some rest," he mumbled sleepily, and hoped Scully understood him. "I'm fine, Mulder," she replied as she retreated back to her chair and sat down. "No, you're not. If I told you I was fine, you'd be telling me what a load of shit that is. So, don't the same thing to me." Mulder sighed and closed his eyes. "I won't," Scully said, and thinking Mulder was asleep, went back to her chair. As soon as she sat down, Mulder's eyes popped back open. "Go sleep in the other room, Scully," he mumbled, half-asleep, but well aware of what he was saying. "It's more comfortable and I'm not going anywhere." He sleepily raised both hands and showed her that he wasn't crossing his fingers. "See? Scouts honor." Scully got up and walked to him. She _was_ tired. Maybe just one hour of sleep wouldn't hurt. "Ok, Mulder. I'll go take a nap. But if you as much as walk one foot from this bed, I will shoot you." She pointed to her gun, which was on the table. "Even if I have to use the john?" Mulder joked, and closed his eyes again. "Mulder, you leave this room and I will shoot you," she clarified. "I would have thought that shooting me would have bored you by now," he teased, not opening his eyes. "Mulder, nothing about you bores me," she said as she slipped out the door. Holiday Inn (Scully's room) Dallas, Texas 6:45 a.m. Scully woke up early but was surprised at how refreshed she felt. She lay in bed, staring up at ceiling, her arms crossed behind her head, just marveling how great she felt after getting some sleep. It was a good thing Mulder had convinced her to.... Mulder! Scully bolted out of bed. He had convinced her to go to bed, and had probably been plotting to ditch her again and she had missed it because she was so tired. "Damnit, Mulder, you'd better still be here." She pushed open the conjoining door and marched into the room. "Mulder??" Scully called. No one answered her. She moved closer and saw he was indeed still there, out cold on the bed. Sighing and laughing in relief, Scully didn't notice the folders strewn around Mulder's bed or the fact that he was sitting up with his glasses on in sleep until several minutes later. "Mulder!!!" Her partner physically jumped ten feet out of bed and landed, squashing several files. "You were working!" Scully accused, grabbing the folder that had been in his hand from him. Mulder ground his teeth. "You don't have to yell, I'm right here." "You were working," she said again for lack of a better topic of conversation. "You were working." Scully was starting to feel rather stupid, plus she had become increasingly redundant and unoriginal in a span of two minutes. "Thanks for noticing." Mulder put his glasses on the bedside table and, moving gingerly, got up and walked jerkily toward the bathroom. "Hey!" Scully called after him. "Hey, Mulder, get back here, we weren't finished!" He didn't answer her. "You were working!!!!!!" she yelled. Katie Martin's Room Rutherford, NJ 9:45 a.m. Frustration got the best of Katie after twenty minutes of talking to herself. Joanna sighed. LOOK, I'M SORRY. I'M JUST... THINKING. ABOUT SOMETHING ELSE. YOU HAVE _NO IDEA_ WHAT I GO THROUGH EVERY DAY!!! Joanna exploded. YOUR PARENTS _LOVE_ YOU. YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE HATED BY YOUR PARENTS, TO... TO.... TO HAVE THEM WANT YOU _DEAD_! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT ITS LIKE TO BE DEAD. Her voice had fallen to a low growl. YOU DON'T KNOW _ANYTHING_ ABOUT ME. I SPEND _MY_ TIME HELPING YOU, FIXING YOUR LIFE-- I GOT RID OF SARAH, FREED YOU FROM BLAME WITH THOSE FBI AGENTS AND... OH, ME?? DO _I_ GET ANY THANKS? ANY _CREDIT_? NO! AND WHY DO I DO IT?? BEATS ME! Katie, physically shaken, tried several times to summon a retort but none came to mind. She fiddled with her fingers and was silent for ten-- fifteen minutes before inquiring aloud in a trembling voice, "Joanna?" No answer. "Joanna, I'm sorry! Please come back," Katie pleaded. OKAY, OKAY, RELAX, I'M HERE. AND SHHHHH, DON'T TALK OUT LOUD, YOU KNOW YOUR PARENTS ALREADY THINK YOU'RE BONKERS. LISTEN, I'M NOT MAD AT YOU AND... I'M SORRY. BUT I REALLY NEED TO BE SOMEWHERE. I CAN'T EXPLAIN IT BUT I... I NEED TO CONTACT SOMEBODY There was a pause, then, NO. SOMEONE ELSE. I'LL... I'LL EXPLAIN LATER. ANOTHER TIME. I... I GOTTA GO, BYE Katie emitted a long sigh and stared at the silent walls. Place Unknown Time Unknown MO-- MOM? Mrs. Wasserman jumped at the sound of the voice, so familiar to her ears but somehow, so odd, like a foreign language. She stood up slowly, glancing warily around her. "Joanna, sweetie?" A choked voice responded. YES MOMMY Mrs. Wasserman gasped. "Oh my God, sweetie, where are you? Honey, honey, where are you?" She yelled frantically. MOM, STOP. CALM DOWN, IT'S OKAY. I'M... I'M NOT HERE. WELL, I'M NOT _PHYSICALLY_ THERE BUT... OH MOM! DON'T BE SCARED, I JUST WANT TO TALK TO YOU! Joanna's mother cowered back. "Okay baby," she said softly. MOM... I JUST WANT TO KNOW... ONE THING. ONE THING... OH, MOM, DID YOU _WANT_ ME TO DIE??? Tears sprang to Mrs. Wasserman's eyes. "Of course not, baby. You know how you... died." The conversation was obviously an odd one and explaining to your daughter how she died was not a usual topic of discussion. YEAH, I KNOW HOW I DIED. HIT AND RUN-- RUTHERFORD, NEW JERSEY. BUT... BUT... WAS IT... _PLANNED_? Her mother burst into tears. I'M SORRY, MOM, I'M SO SORRY BUT I NEED TO KNOW. ALL THESE YEARS..... ALL THESE YEARS I NEVER KNEW.... DID YOU LOVE ME, MOM? DID YOU EVER LOVE ME OR DID YOU WANT TO KILL ME? I KNOW I WAS BAD, I'M SO SORRY I WAS BAD, BUT DID YOU WANT TO KILL ME. "How could you ask such a question??" Mrs. Wasserman said, but her voice was unsteady. MOM....? An awkward silence filled the room until Mrs. Wasserman whispered, "It was your father." Joanna gasped. DAD? "Yes, sweetie, your father... he, he belonged to a.... a group, years ago." WHAT GROUP? Joanna prodded. Mrs. Wasserman took a deep breath. "A group that was... well, almost a _cult_ sort of group. Several people, all men actually, would meet Saturday mornings--" WHEN HE WENT TO THE GYM "Yes, that's what he told us, wasn't it? He went to the gym... actually, I found out later, he went to a man named Oliver Wright's house and they had... meetings. About what, I don't actually know. But... this group didn't believe in.... in children. I can't explain it. They... they didn't allow any of the group member's wives have children. When I was pregnant with you I was so happy, sweetie, I was SO happy. But your father wasn't pleased and I just couldn't understand it! He never spent time with you and if I asked him to watch you, for two-- three minutes, he'd refuse, saying he had to do something else. And," Mrs. Wasserman paused to take a shaky breath. "When you were three, he told me about this group. He-- he said you'd have to be..." she breathed the last word, "killed. Now I wouldn't let him do this of course! I filed for a divorce, I was scared to death of him by then, but your father was a very, very powerful man, he had _connections_ and he didn't want the divorce because of course he wouldn't be able to get to you and...., you know. So with nothing else I could do, I never took my eyes off of you. This went on for years and years and... finally, I thought your father had left the group because he had become more relaxed and didn't disappear Saturday mornings, anymore. And then..... then we went on that vacation in Rutherford, remember? And it was so nice, we were all getting along so well and then...., and then, the accident happened. And I swear, I saw your father's face, as you were being... h- hit. And he was.... he was _smiling_." Joanna was silent. "Sweetheart, are you still there?" YEAH. MOM, WHAT HAPPENED TO DAD? Mrs. Wasserman closed her eyes. "I just don't know." Dallas, Texas Holiday Inn 6:47 a.m. "You were working," Scully hissed again as she followed her partner into the bathroom. "I think we have established that," he answered, and just as she reached the door, he shut it in her face. "Can I have some privacy?" Scully sighed. "Fine, Mulder. But we are going to discuss this." "Sure. Fine. Whatever." Scully ignored that comment and went back to the bed and looked at the mess of folders Mulder had created. Although she was majorly ticked at him for getting up to work, she was glad he seemed to be feeling better. His cheeks looked a little less flushed and he didn't seem to sway when he walked, as he had been doing before. She busied herself cleaning up the files when a piece of paper fell out. Written in Mulder's handwriting, she knew it was another one of his case notes. Mrs. Wasserman was distant at interview. Seemed to show love for Joanna and even teared at the mention of her name. Mr. Wasserman? Divorce petitioned in 1983. Why?..... Scully glanced at Mulder's notes puzzled. The impression of Mrs. Wasserman Scully had perceived had been different. Then she remembered the softer tone she was greeted with when she first arrived in Dallas. Scully was so involved in reading Mulder's notes she didn't realize how much time had gone by. When she finally looked up, she realized she had spent over 20 minutes reading Mulder's notes. She frowned when she realized he hadn't even come out of the bathroom yet. She walked over to the door and knocked on it softly. "Mulder?" No response. She knocked louder this time. "Mulder?" Once again she got no response. Suddenly she got very worried. "Mulder, I'm coming in." She found him sitting in the corner, a confused look on his face. As she approached him, he smiled sheepishly. "Hi, Scully," he said casually. "Mulder, I knock on the door twice, you don't answer and now you say " 'Hi Scully'!" Scully didn't mean to shout, but she must have, because Mulder winced. "Jeez, Scully. I didn't hear you I guess," he replied weakly. Scully sighed and sat down next to him. She put her hand on his forehand, and he didn't even turn to look at her. "Mulder, you don't feel any warmer. But you're not any cooler, either. How did you end up on the floor?" She looked at him with her medical eye. Mulder swallowed sluggishly and turned to her. "I guess I got a little dizzy," he admitted. Scully frowned. "Why didn't you call me?" " 'Cause." Mulder sighed and started to pull himself up, but stumbled back when another dizzy spell hit. "Mulder, stay down. I'll help you." Scully offered him a hand up and he took it. Then Scully helped him ease slowly up, put her arm around him and helped him back to bed. Once he was tucked safely in, she sat on the edge. "Mulder, I have to go back to New Jersey tonight. I talked to Skinner and hopefully I can tie up the loose ends of the case there. You are _nowhere_ near 100%, so-" Mulder cut off her off, knowing what she was going to say. "Scully, I don't want to be in a hospital, either here or in DC, understand?" "Mulder, you're _sick_. You are _dehrydrated_. Whether you like it or not-" "I've been getting better. Even you know that. Just let me go back with you to Jersey, Scully. I have a theory about this case. And it sure as hell doesn't involve Michael Austin." "Oh?" Scully raised an eyebrow. "And this theory would be....?" "What if Joanna could be communicating with Katie?" His face was serious. "Communicating?" Scully raised in eyebrow in total disbelief. "Telepathically almost. A communication that exists only between Joanna and Katie. Maybe for some reason Joanna has a link to Katie. A common bond that allows her to communicate with Katie." "A communication bond? Mulder, even if that was true, and I am _not_ saying it is true, how does Sarah Martin's death tie in to all of this?" "Well, you did tell me you talked to Katie Martin. She said she wished her sister dead. What if Joanna made her wish come true?" "Mulder, that's-" "It's not crazy, Scully. Think about all the trouble Joanna caused during her life. She could have some way of being able to-" Mulder's sentence was cut off by a fit of coughing. Scully got up and picked up the cough medicine off the dresser. "Mulder, wishes can't come true, just at the snap of a finger. Even if that power did exist, why would a twelve-year- old girl possess it?" "Maybe she needed it." Scully sighed and picked up a spoon off of the nightstand. "Do I _really_ have to take that stuff?" Mulder whined. "Mulder, you sound like my nephew trying to get out of bedtime." She smiled. "And yes, you have to take it. Especially if you plan on accompanying me back to New Jersey." "Remind me never to get sick on a case again," Mulder mumbled after he was spoon-fed his medicine. "I keep trying, Mulder, but you never seem to listen to me." "Hurt and sick are two different things, Scully." "Well, they both send your insurance premium and our expense account ski-high. I don't know about you, but I am not looking forward to writing my report for Skinner." "Me neither." Mulder closed his eyes in a grimace. "I think I'm going to write a letter to the manufacturer of that cough syrup." Scully smiled. "It's not that bad." "Yes it is." He opened his eyes, yawned and sighed. "And _something_ has to be done about this drowsy thing." "You could use some more sleep anyway." "I _slept_ all day yesterday!" "So?" Scully said with a grin. "I take it you aren't impressed by my theory?" "Mulder, I'm impressed with the fact that you can keep coming up with stranger theories every time we have a case." The smile stayed on her face. "My theory isn't that strange," Mulder protested and yawned again. "No, it's definitely not as strange as some of your others," Scully agreed and tucked the blankets around him again. "You're falling asleep. We can discuss your theories later." "And go back to Jersey," Mulder said, closing his eyes. "Maybe," Scully said as she got off the bed. Rutherford, NJ 11:30 a.m. Katie walked the sidewalks and past the playground, where she could faintly hear chants of "Thank God for Teacher Strikes!" she agreed. It gave her the time to talk to Joanna, and to roam the streets with her thoughts. She was so involved in her thinking she didn't realize she had walked right past the graveyard. She stopped dead in her tracks, when a flower petal blew past her feet. She looked up and saw the gates to the graveyard open. Maybe it was curiosity that got the better of her. Maybe it was guilt. But whatever it was, Katie soon found herself in the middle of the graveyard standing in front of a newly erected headstone. "Sarah Ann Martin. 1984-1998," she read softly. "May she rest in heaven above." Tears rolled down Katie's cheeks. She had to get out of there. She ran as fast as her little legs could carry her and didn't stop until she was far away from the graveyard. Holiday Inn Dallas, Texas 5:48 p.m. Someone was shaking him but opening his eyes just wasn't his first priority at the moment. Sleeping, however, was. Mulder wasn't quite sure where or even _when_ he was but he figured he was on a long case somewhere, maybe working for Patterson, and hadn't slept in days and days and was maybe in the back of a car somewhere, passed out. He sure felt bad enough for it to be that. "Mulder, wake _up_." A voice from somewhere in the distance was trying to get through to him. "C'mon, wake up, now. It's time to wake up, Mulder." Argghhh! The damn voice was ruining all of his plans! "I'll do it later," he mumbled and rolled over in an attempt to escape it. "Mulder! There you are... c'mon, get up, we're going to New Jersey." Mulder jumped up. "New Jersey?" he asked hoarsely. "Yeah. I got tickets. Phew, I was wondering if you were ever going to get up. It's my fault, really, I'm sorry. I gave you a little too much cough syrup, even though I know you don't respond well to it. Well, think of it this way, you're not coughing anymore, right?!" Scully was so relieved he was awake that it took her several seconds to realize she was rambling. Mulder sat up, and, not wanting to ruin his partner's great mood, suppressed a cough. The sudden movement made him dizzy and he squeezed his eyes shut. "Scully, could you get me a cup of water please?" "Yeah, sure." She studied him. "We have an eight o'clock flight to Newark, okay, so you should probably take a shower and change your clothes." Scully wrinkled her nose and then went to the bathroom and returned with the water. "Thanks," Mulder said. He drained the glass, feeling extremely thirsty suddenly, and stood up. Walking to the bathroom made him dizzy and he was glad Scully was facing the other way and not watching his every move like she usually did. Come to think of it, why _was_ she acting like this? Strange.... Mulder turned the shower on cold, then stepped in. A long shudder ran through him, but he knew the cold would wake him up well, and he needed it; the lasting effects of that damn cough syrup making him fuzzy. Katie Martin's Room Rutherford, NJ 7:53 p.m. Katie had memorized the number. She pushed it in with shaky fingers and her heart pounded with the throbbing buzz of the phone. "Dana Scully," a cheerful voice answered. "Yeah, uh, this is Katie. Katie Martin." "Oh, hi Katie!" Scully's mood perplexed Katie. She'd never known the agent to be so.... _happy_. "We were just coming to visit you." "Agent Mulder's better??" Katie was relieved beyond belief. "Well, yes, he's feeling a little bit better, thank you. I'll tell him you were concerned." "Oh, no, no," Katie said too quickly. "Uh, no, don't. I don't want him to..... just, don't please." "Um, all right. So, why did you call?" Katie thought. "Um, I was just wondering when you're coming to look at the rope." "That's why we're coming up. We have an 8 o'clock flight..." Sensing something else was up, Scully said, "Do you want us to stop by your house in the morning? Anything you want to talk about?" "Um.... no. But..... well." Katie stared intently at the walls. I'M HERE, she said softly. I... I DON'T KNOW. she said gently. "Katie? KATIE?" Agent Scully was saying. "Yeah, I'm here. Uh, there's someone I want you to talk to. Her name is Joanna Wasserman." Katie added quietly after a minute, "She's a really good friend of mine." Holiday Inn Dallas, Texas 6:17 p.m. "MULDER!" Mulder just about jumped ten feet which, while in the shower, is _not_ a fun, or safe, thing to do. "What?" he asked meekly. He had no idea how long he'd been in the shower. The rhythm of the cold water on his back had somehow lulled him into a trance-like state; but with the sharp needles of cold he felt now, he couldn't figure out how. "Mulder, you were right!" He was _freezing_!!! He briefly heard something about being right but that dissolved when the shivering overtook him and he slid down to the floor of the shower, wanting to turn off the water, to get out, but unable to move. "Mulder.... what are you doing in there?" Mulder managed to lunge for the knob and turn off the water but the cold air on his skin wasn't much better. "No-o-o-thing," Between chattering teeth. "You coming out?" He could hear she was right by the door now and the last thing he wanted was for her to come in. He knew he'd never hear the end of it; taking a freezing shower in the middle of December. Putting forth all his strength, he managed to step out of the shower, grab a towel and more or less get it around himself before collapsing onto the shower ledge. Safely sitting, Mulder put his head in his hands and closed his eyes. Mulder sat up and considered it. "Mulder, would you hurry up?? We're gonna miss our flight!" Outside the bathroom door, Scully was getting impatient. Mulder almost began sobbing for all the anguish he was in. He felt sick, he had just taken an ice cold shower (big mistake!) and all his partner wanted to talk about was the flight they were going to miss because of him! Angrily, he threw on his clothes and stormed out. "Fine, I'm ready," he said, trying to sound stern, but sounding pathetic with his hoarse, cracking voice. Scully looked up and grinned when he came out. "Katie wants us to come. She wants us to talk to Joanna." Katie Martin's Room Rutherford, NJ 8:17 p.m. BUT I'M NOT TALKING TO THE LADY AGENT. SHE WOULDN'T BELIEVE US Katie sighed for the hundredth time in three and a half minutes. I WILL, I WILL In the awkward silence, Katie thought back to when Joanna had disappeared yesterday, claiming she had some business to tend to. YEAH. She added, < I won't tell anyone.> NOTHING. LOOK, I'LL TELL YOU SOME OTHER TIME, OKAY. Looking to change the subject quickly, she said, WHAT TIME'S THE AGENTS' FLIGHT? FINE. ALL RIGHT, FINE. BUT I'M _NOT_ TALKING TO THE LADY. SHE'LL JUST LAUGH AT YOU. I DON'T WANT THAT Airport 7:45 p.m. "Flight 452 to Newark now boarding at Gate 32. Flight 452 to Newark now boarding at Gate 32." Mulder closed his eyes and wished that they would just shut up. He had to run to the gate, with Scully practically pulling him the whole way, and now he had to listen to the damn loudspeaker over and over. He was definitely _not_ liking this. Scully grabbed her bag and his. "Come on, Mulder. We're boarding." She smiled brightly and offered him a hand up. He took it gratefully. He tried to push the still invading fuzziness out of his head as Scully handed their tickets in. He followed her silently into the plane and sighed with relief when they reached their seats. He plopped down with content. Scully put her things in the overhead, then joined him, that cheerful smile still painted on her face. "Well, Mulder, I think you are on the right track. Katie called and wants us to meet a Joanna Wesserman." The words "Katie" and "Joanna Wesserman" seemed to push through his tired and fogged mind. "She did?" he said lamely, interested, but not really as coherent as he wished he was. Scully nodded. "I don't know what going on here, Mulder, but I think we are going to find out." All Mulder could do was nod in return. Scully eyed him strangely, but brushing it off as effects from that cough syrup she settled into her seat. The flight attendant came by then, a perky blond with a great smile. Scully thought silently and looked at Mulder for his response, remembering the initial flight to New Jersey. "Are you all right, sir?" the flight attendant asked, looking a bit concerned. Scully braced herself for a "Mulder line", but was surprised by his reaction. "I'm fine. Just tired," he replied and didn't even look in the direction of the flight attendant. The blond cast him a look of disbelief and walked away. For the first time in 2 hours, Scully's smile faded. She put a hand on Mulder's arm. "Are you okay?" she asked, a tiny bit of worry to her voice. Mulder gave her a small smile. "I'm fine, Scully. Just that cough medicine. I really am going to write a letter," he joked weakly. "You sure?" Scully sounded doubtful and Mulder prayed she would pull all that "doctor" crap here. "Yes." "Ok," she replied and reached for the files she had left at her feet. Before Mulder could say anything else, the seat belt sign flashed on and take off began. Mulder watched Scully grip her seat, as she did on every flight. He gave her another smile, wishing he had enough energy to divert her attention. So instead he just placed his hand over hers. She looked down at his hand and their eyes met. "Thanks," she whispered. Mulder opened his mouth to say "you're welcome" but was interrupted by a flight attendant. he thought as he closed his eyes and tried to push the feeling of dizziness aside. Rutherford, NJ 10:00 p.m. Katie was pacing back and forth in her bedroom. She had walked around the room so many times, she won't be surprised if she worn the rug straight through. DON'T WORRY. WE SET MULDER STRAIGHT AND ALL OF OUR PROBLEMS GO AWAY. DON'T SAY MURDER! IT WASN'T A MURDER! IT WAS AN "ACCIDENT." IT WILL TRUST ME. DON'T WORRY. I'LL TAKE CARE OF EVERYTHING. WE JUST SAY HOW WE COMMUNICATE AND I THINK MULDER WILL UNDERSTAND BY THEN. UNDERSTAND OUR POSITION. WE TELL HIM THAT WE "SAW" MICHAEL AUSTIN DO IT. THAT HE IS CONNECTED IN "MY DEATH." OF COURSE IT'S NOT, BUT I CAN'T FIND THE REAL PERSON TO BLAME IN MY DEATH. IF WE SAY IT WAS MICHAEL AUSTIN, WE SAVE THE CASE AND OUR BEHINDS. A vision of the graveyard popped into Katie's mind. She suddenly had a _very_ bad feeling about this. Newark, NJ 2:37 a.m. The last thing that Mulder wanted was to be walking through an airport at 2:30 in the morning. He had slept through the whole flight and Scully had to awaken him for the landing. He was miserable. Scully seemed to still be cheerful, but she kept glancing at him every time she thought he wasn't looking. But he was. After another hour of picking up luggage, renting a car, and renting a motel room (the same ones they had rented before, concidently), Mulder was eternally grateful when he finally entered the room and popped down on the bed. Everything seemed to catch up with him then, and he broke into a long string of coughs. Scully had entered her room, but as soon as she heard Mulder coughing, she appeared the doorway between the two rooms, a pronounced frown on her face. She looked for a minute than turned back into her room. Mulder thought as he watched Scully walk out. Maybe she was going to leave him alone. Yes! With a small smile on his face, he let his head sink into the pillow, and enjoyed the quiet. He had closed his eyes and was on his way to sleep, when he felt a cool hand on his forehead. he thought sleepily and shifted onto his side, pulling away from Scully's hand. Then he felt cold plastic in his ear and opened his eyes to find Scully's concerned blue eyes gazing into his. The thermometer beeped and Scully pulled it from his ear. She frowned again, though it wasn't as bad as the frown she had given him in the doorway. Mulder turned his head so that he was staring at the ceiling. "So what's verdict, Dr. Scully? Am I hot enough for you?" he asked with a smile, then a grimace as he jerked his head in her direction. "103.1," she answered, ignoring his joke. "That's up from a few hours ago." She shook her head and sighed. "Mulder, why didn't you tell me you were feeling this bad?" "Because I didn't want to dragged off to the nearest hospital," he answered truthfully. "Fair enough, Mulder. But I want to know when you're feeling sick. You're my partner. I care about you." She sat next to him on the bed and pushed some hair off his forehead. Mulder closed his eyes and just concentrated on her touch. It felt so good to be touched by her. If he wasn't feeling so shitty right now, he might have jumped her, so to speak. God knows he wanted to. He really wanted to. But he was the sick one here, so he just settled deeper into the pillow, Scully's hands still on his forehead. "I'm tired," he mumbled, knowing he was avoiding her concerns. She did too and backed away. "I know you are. But I want you to take something, Mulder. We have an interview tomorrow with Katie Martin, and I don't think you want me leaving you here." She got up off the bed and walked to the dresser, where she had placed her medical bag. She rummaged through it and, after ducking into the bathroom, returned with two pills and a glass of water. Mulder had managed to doze off in the two minutes she was gone, so she shook him gently and placed the pills into his hand. "I need you to take these," she said and handed him the glass of water. Mulder blinked sleepily, but sat up. The room turned at dizzying speeds for him and Scully had to steady his shoulders. He then grimaced, swallowed both pills, and drank half the water. Scully tried to urge him to drink more, but he refused and fell back, exhausted. She then turned out the light and walked into her room. she thought Mulder's Room Rutherford, NJ 9:45 a.m. The light hurt his eyes. "Mulder. Mulder, wake up, we're running late." The situation was familiar: his partner waking him up and him wanting nothing more than to whack her with a pillow and go back to sleep. But there was something different this time.... "We're running late, Mulder," Scully said again. Mulder jumped up, wincing at the pain in his head. "What time is is?" Scully was relieved that her partner was back among the living. The thought of going in there alone scared her to death. "Nine forty-five. Get a move on, partner." He groaned loudly, realizing then that Joanna wasn't going to come to him, the meeting would require getting out of bed and getting dressed and possibly forcing a brush through his hair on his part. Slowly, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat for a moment, leaning forward, palms pressed into his eyes. Then, with a sudden energy he didn't really have, he jumped up, grabbed a suit off the top of his suitcase and hurried into the bathroom to get changed. Scully stared at the closed bathroom door for a few seconds, then dropped down on Mulder's bed, careful not to wrinkle her own pants suit. She'd woken up around seven and had been showered and ready by seven forty five, but the prospect of waking her exhausted partner was more than she could bear. He looked so tired, she felt bad dragging him along, but she knew he'd kill her if she didn't let him speak to Joanna. Speak to Joanna..... thinking it over, Scully realized how unrealistic speaking to "Joanna" was. How exactly were they going to do it? Deciding to push aside her worries on Joanna, she pushed her mind to the task at hand. Getting her partner in condition to interrogate, sorry, _talk to_, Joanna. "Mulder?" Scully stood and walked over to the bathroom. She leaned her ear against the door, feeling the cold, smooth paint on her cheek. "You okay in there?" He groaned. "Okay." There was a pause then he said, "Scully, could you come in here please?" Scully opened the door and entered. She saw Mulder sitting on the toilet, the seat down, head in hands. Moving quickly across the small bathroom, she dropped onto the tub's ledge and pushed aside his hands to lay her own across his forehead. "Damnit Mulder, you're hot." She let out a long sigh when her comment was followed by no smart alec rebuke. "Okay. Okay, Mulder, if you want to talk to Joanna we need to pump you full of drugs first." He looked up and gave her a pathetic grin. The Martin's Living Room Rutherford, NJ 10:30 a.m. Mulder sniffled for the thirtieth time that minute and Scully turned harshly to him. "Could you just try to sound a _little_ sicker?? At this point they probably won't let us see Katie at all; they'll be worried she'll catch whatever horrible illness you have." She felt sorry as soon as she said it, and didn't miss the look of hurt on his face. She knew he was trying extremely hard to keep his head up (missing _this_ opportunity would be like.... well it wouldn't be a good thing) and her yelling at him wasn't going to make him feel any better. Scully patted his hand. "I'm sorry," she said gently. "Let's get this over with and then we'll get you back to the hotel and you can get some sleep." "Promises, promises," he said hoarsely. Mrs. Martin came back with two lemonades in hand. "Here you go." She smiled as she gave one glass to each of the agents. "Thank you, Mrs. Martin," Scully said. "We're in town to check out the results on the piece of rope Katie found, but she also mentioned she'd like to, uh," Scully glanced at her partner and he nodded. "She'd like to talk to us." Mrs. Martin shook her head. "Yes, I know that. Very, very well." She laughed. "Katie hasn't talked about anything _else_ all week. She's up in her room, she said she wants to talk to you there." Then, as if suddenly remembering something, Mrs. Martin stood up. "Agent Scully, may I talk to you about something in the kitchen, please? Katie said it would be all right if just Agent Mulder spoke with her because she knew I needed to talk to you." Mrs. Martin realized she sounded rather idiotic but it was the most polite way she could think of to tell Agent Scully that Katie only wanted to speak to her partner and not her. _Now_ if she could only think of something to talk about to Agent Scully it would work! Mulder rose slowly and Mrs. Martin saw how unsteady he was on his feet. "Okay, I'll go see her now..." "Up the stairs and first door on your right," Mrs. Martin said. "Thanks," Mulder managed a weak smile and started up the stairs. "Agent Scully, could you come into the kitchen please so we could talk in private?" The Kitchen Rutherford, NJ 10:39 a.m. The move to the kitchen was a stall mechanism and nothing more. Mrs. Martin had no _idea_ what to say to Agent Scully but she certainly didn't want to be rude, what with all these agents were doing to solve her daughter's murder case.... Mrs. Martin shuddered at the thought of it. Plus, with her partner sick, the poor woman must have so much on her mind. "Agent Scully," Mrs. Martin said finally. "Dana... please." The agent gave tired smile. "If you don't mind, I'd like to be on a first name basis with someone for once." "That's fine. And its Christina. Now, I was wondering about your partner--" "Oh, we just call him Mulder." Dana told her. "He doesn't like his first name." Christina smiled. "Okay, but what I was wondering was, how is he doing? I remember when you first came to visit us he was terribly sick-- he passed out if I remember correctly, and had to be driven to the hospital-- and it doesn't seem as if he's getting much better. Do you know what's the matter?" Dana sighed. "It's as much a mystery to me as it is to you. He hasn't been feeling well since... soon after we started the case. Mulder is just, well, just cursed with bad luck and he gets hurt on almost every case, but never anything this long or persistent. He was in a hospital for a while, weeks and weeks ago, but nothing the doctor's tried made him better. He seems to be feeling a little better each day but unfortunately the plane ride didn't do him much good and he had a bad reaction to some medicine the other day so he's not doing too well." Christina was shaking her head. "Poor guy, what a shame. I'm sorry, I hope he feels better soon." "Yeah, well, so do I." Scully smiled. "Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?" "Yes." Katie's room Rutherford, NJ 10:39 a.m. "Hi Katie," Agent Mulder said when he entered the room. Katie was lying on her stomach on the floor, playing solitaire. "Hey. Um, I need to talk to you." She sat up and turned around to face him, while motioning for him to take a seat on the bed. Mulder complied and she added, "Actually, my friend needs to talk to you." YES TO TELL YOU THE TRUTH, KATIE, ME TOO "Okay, what you need to do is concentrate really hard," Katie told Mulder. "You're gonna hear a voice talking to you, like it's inside your head or something. When you want to answer back, DON'T TALK OUT LOUD. _Think_ what you want to say. She'll hear it." Mulder smiled a little, half-amused, half-befuddled. "Who'll hear it?" ME Katie saw him jump. "Remember what I said, just talk back to her in your head," she said softly. Mulder thought. GUESS. I THINK YOU KNOW C'MON. I'LL GIVE YOU THREE GUESSES. JUST TELL ME WHO YOU THINK I AM... JUST GUESS Mulder thought. The Kitchen Rutherford, NJ 10:49 a.m. Mrs. Martin had been babbling for the last ten minutes and Scully was getting annoyed. After she had brought up the subject of Mulder, she launched into other subjects, including her concern for Katie. Scully keep looking for a way out, but was finding none. She endured another ten minutes of talking, then decided she had had it and she wanted desperately wanted to catch up with Mulder. "Um, can you direct me to your bathroom?" Scully asked innocently, hoping the question would buy her freedom from this conversation. Mrs. Martin seemed to think about it for a minute, almost as if she didn't want to tell her where the bathroom was. Finally she said, "First door at the top the stairs. You can't miss it." Scully thanked her and breathed a sigh of relief as she climbed the stairs. Realizing she really _did_ have to make a stop in the bathroom, she found it and closed the door. A few minutes later, she was washing her hands, when she could hear voices from Katie's room. "Really?" Mulder's voice was doubtful. "Think, don't say it!" Katie's voice sounded worried. Scully quickly placed the hand towel back to it's place on the sink and peered out the bathroom door and glanced toward Katie's room. She started to walk toward it when Mrs. Martin blocked her path. "Dana, how strange do you think someone can act?" Mrs. Martin asked and steered Scully away from Katie's room with those words. "Depends on what you think strange is," Scully replied with a hint of a smile. Mrs. Martin walked down the stairs and Scully followed her out of curiosity. "As in the behavior of a twelve-year-old girl." At first Scully thought this may be a ploy to get her away from Katie's room, but she saw the serious look in the other woman's eyes. A look that resembled fear, but not quite. Scully couldn't pinpoint Christina's exact emotion but it sent a chill down her spine. This case was getting stranger and stranger. As much as Scully wanted to go up into that bedroom, she knew she needed to ask Mrs. Martin a few more questions first. Katie's room 10:58 a.m. "Really?" Mulder said aloud, doubt all over his voice. His illness shifted to the back of his mind. He doubted that Michael Austin was responsible for Sarah's death, let alone Joanna's. "Think, don't say it!" Katie said, afraid that Agent Scully would hear him from downstairs. Mulder thought and glared at the walls. AGENT MULDER, I DON'T LIE. I SAID HE WAS RESPONSIBLE, AND HE IS. LOOK AT THE EVIDENCE, EVEN IT POINTS TO HIM. YOU CAN'T DENY THAT. Mulder argued. His head still throbbed and his was certain Joanna was hiding something. And why wasn't Scully up here? AGENT MULDER, HE _DID_ IT! YOU HAVE ENOUGH EVIDENCE TO BRING HIM IN. END THIS CASE AND MAKE YOUR PARTNER HAPPY. YOU'RE TOO SICK TO KEPT WORKING LIKE THIS ANYWAY. Katie thought worriedly and glanced at Mulder. Mulder challenged, and emitted a series of coughs. Joanna paused long enough to let him finish. AGENT MULDER, ONE LOOK AT YOU AND ANYONE COULD TELL THAT YOU ARE READY TO COLLAPSE. YOUR PARTNER LOOKS LESS THAN THRILLED TO BE HERE. THAT ANSWER YOUR QUESTION. I _AM_ PRETTY SMART FOR A TWELVE-YEAR-OLD. Katie breathed a sigh of relief, when she saw Mulder silently digesting that information. Katie thought all was well, but then Mulder suddenly narrowed his eyes. Mulder winced at that memory. His twelve year was _not_ a happy one. Silence filled the room. Katie thought to the white walls. Living Room 11:15 a.m. "My daughter has always been strange, but never like this." Christina Martin handed Scully a cup of coffee and settled into the chair across from her. She placed her own coffee on the table next to her and seemed to play with hands. She seemed nervous now. "What do you mean?" Scully asked, and glanced at the stairs. "Katie was different. A tomboy. She was always a little unusual, but that's what made her unique. But now, I can catch her always watching the walls, almost as if they could talk." Christina continued to wring her hands together. Scully thought. Years of working on the X-Files had he thinking about a girl being able to communicate with the dead. "Then one day, she trashed her sister's room. She didn't give me a reason. I never would have known if I hadn't caught her walking out of Sarah's room." At the mention of Sarah's name, Mrs. Martin's eyes took on a faraway glaze. "Dana, it seems that I haven't just lost one daughter. It feels as if I'm going to lose two." Her words were soft, and had a sad quality to them. "Maybe you should take Katie to see a counselor," Scully suggested. Mrs. Martin shook her head. "Dana, I once caught her talking to the walls. She called the walls 'Joanna'." Silence feel between them. "Maybe I should go upstairs," Scully suggested, but Mrs. Martin shook her head. "Katie wanted you to stay away. She mumbled something about 'not understanding.' I don't know what that means, but...." Mrs. Martin let her voice fade away and Scully had an even stronger desire to run up those stairs. "Christina?" Scully laid a hand on her shoulder. Christina looked up and Scully noticed a determined look on her face. "But, she didn't say anything about the both of us going." Christina lifted her head higher. "I just want my little girl back." Scully nodded. "I know you do." On the road Rutherford, NJ 11:59 a.m. Scully looked over and her partner. His eyes flew open. "Scully, will you quit staring at me?" She jumped. She had thought he was asleep. "Sorry. I was worried." Mulder scowled. "No you weren't. You just want to know what Joanna said." Scully looked at the road, then at her partner, then at the road, then back at her partner. "Fine." She smiled a little but Mulder was not amused. "Fine, I _do_ want to know. How could you blame me? So, what'd she say?" "Nothing." Scully's shoulders slumped. "_Nothing_?? You didn't talk to her?" "No, she said something. Just nothing good." At Scully's inquiring look he said, "Joanna said that Michael Austin killed Sarah Martin. He was hiding behind the piano and Joanna happened to be watching over Katie-- she said something like 'watching over' and saw Michael Austin hiding there but she wasn't quick enough to stop him. His fingerprints are all over.... Scully, I hate to say this, but I think she might be right." "Wait a minute, here, Mulder. You just had a conversation with a girl that's been dead for.... _years_ and you're ready to just _go_ with the conceivable answer that Michael Austin killed this girl?? That is _not_ like you. C'mon, what's up?" Mulder took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh, coughing a little as he did. "I don't know. I don't.... it's just something about this case. We're not _getting_ anywhere and, as Joanna said, Michael Austin is the only plausible explanation. I think we need to get him in and interrogate him." After a minute he said, "I didn't mean _we_, us. I mean _someone_, I just don't know if I'm up to it." Scully had pulled the car into their parking space outside their motel room. "All right, I'll call Skinner and tell him that we want Michael Austin in for questioning," she said gently. "Now let's get you inside and let me check you out." Scully's Motel Room Rutherford, NJ 12:21 p.m. Mulder's mood seemed to be a little better after Scully had promised to call Skinner. Before, he had wanted to collapse into bed and sleep for a week, but now he had collapsed into an armchair in Scully's room so he could listen to her conversation with Skinner. However, he'd passed out in the chair before she'd even picked up the phone, so she guessed he wouldn't be an active member of the discussion. "Hi, Kim? It's Agent Scully, can I talk to the AD please? Thanks. Okay, I'll hold." A few seconds later, Walter Skinner's voice came on. "Agent Scully." "Yes, sir, it's me." "Do you have any news on the case?" Skinner sighed. It had been a tedious and frustrating case for him as well. "Uh, yes sir, Mulder thinks we may have a break." "Oh, good." He was relieved. "Let me talk to him then." Scully glanced over at the chair. "I don't think that's possible right now." "Hm....?" "He's sleeping. In the chair right here. I could wake him up if you want..." "No, don't, I'm sure he needs it. Is he still sick?" "He's doing a little better. I'd like to get him back to D.C. though for some serious rest and recuperating." "All right, we'll see what we can do about that. So what's going on with the case?" Scully thought. "Well, we checked out the rope, a piece of evidence found in the piano, with Michael Austin's fingerprints on it. Michael Austin is a wanted criminal. He strangles his victims when they're alone, so it seemed strange that he was able to kill Sarah Martin with everybody around, but we found a place where he could've hid behind the piano without anybody seeing him and then slipped out the back door. His fingerprints are _all_ over, so it's really the only plausible explanation." Scully wondered whether it was. "All right. Look, I'll get two agents on Michael Austin and you two come home. And, for God's sake Scully, do something about your partner. He's been sick for weeks now, and we're gonna need him well for the paperwork and possibly court trial." "Yes, sir." Katie Martin's Room Rutherford, NJ 12:30 p.m. There was a long pause. Then, YES. Katie relaxed and smiled at the walls. Scully's Motel Room 2:15 p.m. Scully was glad she hadn't really even bothered to unpack. She had called the airlines and gotten tickets for the 7:30 flight back to D.C. as soon as she had gotten off the phone with Skinner. She just wanted to get out of here before Mulder could change his mind about the case. she thought as closed her suitcase. She glanced over at Mulder, who was still asleep in the armchair. He had even stirred in the last hour and a half and she was getting worried. It was all the more important that they got home. She passed Mulder and walked into his room, and packed up the few things he had laying out. She carried his bag back into her room and stole another look at him. This time she was greeted by a pair of hazel eyes. "Did you call Skinner yet?" Mulder rasped, and he wondered when his voice had decided to take a time out. Scully looked at him, her gaze dripping with concern "Two hours ago, Mulder. I told him what you said, and-" "You told what I said?" Mulder sat up a little straighter, but grimaced when the slight movement of his head sent pain waves down his body. "Well, not really. I said we had enough evidence to investigate Michael Austin further, and he told me to get you well. So we are going back to D.C., Mulder. Case solved." Mulder frowned. "But it's not closed, Scully." Scully walked closer to him. "Yes it is, Mulder. Even you said there is just not another explanation." Mulder shook his head. "No, Scully. Joanna's lying. Katie's lying. We have to prove it." "We can't, Mulder," Scully said gently. "So we are going to catch a 7:30 flight and then as soon as we get back to D.C., I'm driving you to Georgetown. No questions asked. Just worry about getting better, Mulder." She offered him a hand out of the chair and he took it, swaying slightly when he got his feet. Scully helped him get over to the bed, which he promptly sat back down on. "No, Scully. Now that I think about it, Joanna's lying. She can communicate with anyone. I mean it's possible she got Michael Austin to do her dirty work, but that doesn't make any sense. Why get someone to do it for you when you can do a better job yourself?" Scully laid a hand on his forehead. "Mulder, you're delirious. Even if anything you are saying make any sense, we are talking about a twelve-year-old girl here." "Haven't you heard of a juvenile delinquent, Scully?" Mulder sighed and began another series of coughing. "Yes, I have Mulder. But most of them commit crimes when they are _alive_. I may be able to buy a _little_, and I mean a little, into the fact Katie claims to talk to Joanna, but Joanna, a dead twelve-year-old girl, being able to kill people at will? It sounds like the makings of a great science fiction novel." "Yes, but don't most of the cases we investigate have the makings of a great science fiction novel?" Mulder commented with a smile. Scully just shook her head and smiled back. Scully's Motel room 3:50 p.m. "Be careful what you wish for." "That's a stupid saying, Karen. Wishes can't come true." Mulder blinked and stared at the TV screen. Scully had gone to check out of the rooms, so he passed the time waiting for her by watching TV. This program had caught his eye. "My sister says wishes can come true. But that every time they do, something bad happens. Like you wish you were an only child and your sister dies, making you become an only child. Things like that." "Oh come on! I wish my brother was dead all the time, and it never happens." "It could." "Yeah, and my brother will start cleaning his room." "It could happen." "My brother would never clean his room." "No, I meant the wishes!" Mulder didn't take his eyes off the screen. He held back a cough and thought about the scene he just watched. Bingo. Mulder had a feeling his last thought was right. Suddenly Scully came into the room. "We're all checked out," she announced and picked up the bags off the bed. "Joanna did it." Scully looked confused, so he tried to explain. "Katie did something most kids do. She jokingly wished her sister dead. Only Joanna made her wish come true. So now Katie has to stick by Joanna or else someone will discover her secret. Katie changed. She needs to stop listening to Joanna and get on with her life. I don't think this case will find a real murderer, Scully. If we could manage to get Katie to push Joanna away, then maybe...." Mulder's voice drifted off exhausted. He had hardly any strength left. He needed rest. "Mulder, I suggest we go eat something before we head to the airport to wait," she said carefully, hoping she force some food into him. "We have to tell Katie, Scully. We have to....." His eyes were determined. "We have to get her to say she made up the story about Michael Austin. Then maybe she could ignore Joanna and..." He started coughing. Scully went into the bathroom and returned with some water. She handed it to Mulder and he drank most of it. "Then we can go back to D.C. We have enough time in-between our flight. Then we go home, case closed." Scully didn't know why, but she nodded and said, "Ok" as she took the empty glass from Mulder's hands. Martin's house 4:17 p.m. Katie stared lazily at the walls, bored. Her parents had gone furniture shopping, and had asked her to join them, but she declined. Katie half-expected Joanna to answer, but knew Joanna was somewhere else. she reasoned. She could hardly believe that Agent Mulder was leaving them alone. It was over. Joanna had gotten away with. Now she had a friend, a partner. But when she thought of all the things Joanna was capable of, it sent shivers down her spine. She moved from her place on the couch and walked to the window. Of course he is, a voice inside her answered. He's a killer, though. One more mark on his record won't matter. But it did matter. At least to Katie. Before she meant Joanna she did one thing better than her sister. She was more honest. But now, even that was gone. She smiled a little at that, but the smile was uneasy. She liked being honest. It was the one thing she was proud of. No this wasn't working out. She wanted to get Joanna out of her life, but knew she couldn't. Katie was a partner in crime. And partner stick together, or else. The "or else" was the thing Katie was afraid of. Outside the Martin's house 4:23 p.m. "Let's get this over with," Scully said as she pushed the doorbell. Mulder stood next to her, not looking very steady on his feet. But his eyes were determined and somewhat lucid. "If we can," he muttered to himself as the door opened. Dallas, Texas 4:30 p.m. MICHAEL Michael Austin grit his teeth. "I am _not_ going crazy, I am _not_ going crazy. I am a perfectly sane man. I am not what I was before." At this a sob escaped him and he let his head drop to the steering wheel. He had been driving home from the office had come again, intruding, frightening, deathly serious for such a sweet, young voice. MICHAEL. LISTEN TO ME "No!" The sharp outcry echoed around the walls of the car. "What do you want? Why won't you leave me alone??" I'M... I'M SORRY, the voice said resignedly. PLEASE LISTEN, JUST FOR A MINUTE? I'M... I'M JOANNA. I WANT TO HELP YOU BUT I NEED YOU TO HELP ME FIRST "I don't want your help!" he screamed. This time his wife, in the kitchen nearby, heard him and came running out. "Michael, what's the matter?" She pounded on the window. Michael opened the car door, got out and she wrapped her arms around him. "Nothing. It's nothing." He was trembling in her grasp. "I need to go. I'm going. I'm going to go upstairs for a little bit." Michael broke away and ran into the house and upstairs where he locked himself in his room. Katie's Room Rutherford, NJ 4:30 p.m. Scully was once again forced to hold small talk with Mrs. Martin while Mulder conducted the dirty work upstairs. Or maybe Scully's small talk was the dirty work. At this point, Mulder wasn't quite sure. All he knew was that his head was _pounding_. "Where is she?" he asked for the millionth time. "I don't know!" Katie insisted. "She's been gone all afternoon. Why do you need to talk to her, she told you everything already." Mulder sighed. "All right, Katie. I'm gonna have to trust you because, frankly, I don't _ever_ want to have to talk to Joanna again. I came to talk to you, I just wanted to make sure she wasn't listening in. Katie..." Katie was staring down at her hands. "Look, I know you're fingernails are quite interesting but could you listen to me for a minute please?" Katie giggled a little and looked up at him. "Yeah, sure." "Thanks." He managed a weak smile. "Now, I _know_ about you and Joanna. Or, I've been making an educated guess. I know she's helping you..." Now that it was time to actually confront Katie, Mulder was drawing a blank. "Yeah," she said softly and he jumped. He hadn't expected her to cooperate at all. "Yeah? Could you tell me what you've been doing? What _she's_ been doing?" Katie bit her lip. "I don't know." "I promise I won't tell her," Mulder said gently. "Oh. Well...." Katie was staring at the ground now, speaking shakily and uneasily. "That day at the... at the recital. That day, I was mad at Sarah, I... I said I wanted her to die. You know! Don't you have a sister you've ever wanted to die?" Mulder shuddered. "No, but I think I get what you're saying." "Oh. Well, I just, I kinda wished it to myself and...." "I know," he said softly. "Then what?" "Well, then Joanna started talking to me. And she helped me and she was my friend and she was gonna make it so nobody knew I killed her--" "You didn't kill your sister, Katie." "Yeah. I know. So anyway, she was a good friend but sometimes she did things I didn't like. She..." "She what?" Mulder prompted. "Oh, just mean things! And then she wants to blame it on this guy, Michael Austin, who she said he's her 'inspirating'. She wants to blame my sister's death on this poor guy!" "So he didn't really do it." "No! I did. Or.... I mean.... I guess I did. But I didn't mean it. You know I didn't mean it, right?" "Yeah. I know." "Okay... good." Katie slumped back and let out a relieved sigh. Michael Austin's room Dallas, Texas 6:47 p.m. "Honey, are you coming down for dinner? Sweetie? You've been lying there an awfully long time..... why don't you come down for a little bit?" Michael lifted his head from its burial place in the pillow. "Um, no, I think I'm gonna skip dinner." His wife leaned against the doorjamb. "Aren't you feeling well?" "Yeah, I'm okay. Maybe I'll be down later." He pushed his face back in the pillow. After a few minutes he heard the door click shut. MICHAEL, STILL THERE? "Shut up, I'm not talking to you. Whoever you are." I TOLD YOU, I'M JOANNA "I don't care! I'm not talking to you, I told you that. I'm not listening to you..... listening to who?? There's nobody in the room!" SHH, DON'T TALK, JUST THINK WHAT YOU WANT TO TELL ME-- "I don't want to tell you anything! I just told you that!" SHHHH! THINK IT. MICHAEL, YOU'RE GOING TO ENCOUNTER SOME PROBLEMS..... SOME PEOPLE, SOME FBI AGENTS ARE GOING TO BE COMING AFTER YOU IN THE NEXT FEW WEEKS. BUT YOU NEED TO PROVE YOURSELF INNOCENT AND THAT'S WHAT I'M GOING TO HELP YOU DO. I'M GOING TO HELP YOU BLAME IT ALL ON-- "Blame all of _what_? I didn't _do_ anything, remember??" YES YOU DID! YOU'RE A WANTED MURDERER! "I used to be," he said softly. "Not anymore though. No, not anymore. Now I've got Elaine..... and the kids, I've got my life straightened out. And no voice in my head is going to bring me back to being a wanted murderer." I JUST WANT TO HELP. I JUST WANT TO.... Martin Household 4:37 p.m. "Just stop?" Katie was confused. Mulder raised a hand to his head and rubbed it. "Yeah, then this whole thing can get put behind you." "But what about Joanna? And my sister? Who's going to...?" Katie's voice was close to tears. She was deadly afraid that she would be blamed for Sarah's death. Mulder shook his head. "Don't worry, many cases stay unsolved. I just think your parents would be a lot happier if Joanna left." His excuses where sounding lame, but he didn't now what to do. He _knew_ who killed Sarah, but he doubted a dead person could be tried. "But....," Katie protested, when a voice interrupted her. KATIE, WE NEED TO TALK....... "No!" Mulder said, a decible too loud for his head to handle. Katie eyed him and started to walk toward the door. She opened it and stood away from it. "Go away, Joanna. I mean it. I don't need your help. I never did!" Katie was getting closer to tears each minute and Mulder really wished Scully was up here. His head was still pounding, and he started to feel a little unsteady on his feet. KATIE, YOU DON'T MEAN THAT. THINK ABOUT EVERYTHING WE HAVE DONE. ALL THE THINGS WE CAN ACCOMPLISH. I _MADE_ YOU INTERESTING! I BETTERED YOUR LIFE! "No, you didn't. You made it worse. Sarah's dead and I've lost who I was. And I realized, I liked who I was." Katie was no longer close to tears. She stood up straight and looked much older than her twelve years. Mulder blinked to steady the dizzying circle of lights he saw. His vision cleared and he didn't know what else to do. He was witnessing a battle between two twelve-year-olds, but this went beyond your simple playground fight. This wasn't some bully you could tell the teacher about. He sat down on the bed and watched Katie, wishing he had that much conviction when he was twelve. "And you know what! I could care less about bettering my life!" Katie suddenly stopped and looked thoughtful. Then her lips turned into a smile. "I think that you're nothing without me! I'm sorry you had a nad life, but I don't!" Katie stopped shouting. "I've realized that wishes can come true. But only in the worst way. Nad if that's how it works, I don't want to make only more wishes!! Well, maybe just one." She paused. "I wish you would get the hell out of my life." Only silence followed her statement. Mulder watched the scene unfold before his eyes. Then the roon blurred a little. He didn't know how long he sat there, but the next thing he was aware of was Scully tapping his shoulders. "Mulder, we're going to miss our flight." He nodded absently and got up, shaky on his feet. Scully eyed him suspiously. "I'm going to call Georgetown as soon as we get off the plane," she announced and for once Mulder didn't agrue. 1 week later Georgetown Medical Center "I'm not eating that." "You are if you want to get out of here." Mulder eyed the green jello again with disdain. "But it moves...," he whined. "Mulder..." "Ok, ok, I'm eating it," he said as he dipped his spoon into it and reluctantly swallowed some. "I really, really hate jello." Scully laughed. "That because you've had to eat so much of it." "Well, not any longer. The next time I'm in the hospital, it's going to be a nice one that's never heard of jello." "Well, Mulder you exhausted most of the U.S. hospitals already..." Scully ducked and narrowly missed getting hit by a pillow. Scully was straightening up when she heard Mulder's voice turn serious. "You think the Joanna's of this world are still out there?" Scully just shrugged her shoulders. "Well, for everyone's sake, I hope not." Mulder nodded in agreement. **************** Field Report, X-File 453697-3 Dana Scully, reporting field agent No more incidents have occured at the Martin home and Katie Martin has withdrawn her claim that Michael Austin committed the murder. Additionally, Mrs. and Mr. Martin have also dropped the civil suit against Mr. Austin, and he has been released, all charges dropped. Agent Mulder's illness does not seem to be case related, though the stress may have added to it. With no other suspects having been investigated in the crime, I recommend that this case, X-File 453697-3, remain open. Somewhere in Ohio Susan watched as her brother got congratulated over and over for the 21 points he scored in the basketball game. She narrowed her eyes at him. PROBLEM SOLVED, the walls echoed.......... "The End" Send all feedback to JenR13@aol.com and JRDG1013@aol.com. :-)