Submission: "Wishful Thinking" (01/11)
Date: Sun, 4 Oct 1998

TITLE: “Wishful Thinking”
AUTHORS: Jen and Lauren
EMAIL: JenR13@aol.com (Jen) and JRDG1013@aol.com (Lauren)
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<g>)
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? <g>), 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! <g>

"Wishful Thinking”
By Jen and Lauren
©1998

Part 01/11

The crowd cheered as 14-year-old Sarah Martin finished her piano
piece.
<Another perfect one. What else would she play?> her sister, Katie, thought
sarcastically as her sister stood up for another bow. <Another piano
recital
down. Only about 6 million left to live through.> And Katie was only 12.
<Only 6 more years to go through, I hope.>

Katie watched her sister Sarah get congratulated by her family,
friends, and
her piano teacher. <Why does my sister have to be so perfect?> 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? <I'm
special,> she thought <In some way. I just haven't found what way that is
yet.> 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. <Typical Mulder> 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. <Of course he can sleep on a plane, but not in
his
apartment> 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."

<Of course, he think about sex at a time like this> 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?"
<Considering it is the only time you probably slept today> she thought <It
probably was.>

"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 they 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. <Leave it to Mulder. We are here less
than ten minutes and he's already made a mess> 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 something
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. <What did this poor woman do to
deserve
her daughter taken away?> 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.

<He's got hazel eyes> she realized. <They're pretty, I wish I had
them. He
seems like an okay guy... but, ugh, what a boring tie. I wish these FBI
agents would be a bit more creative in what they wear so when they're
interrogating you, at least you've got something interesting to look at. I
wish he had a nicer tie at least.>

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." <Ok Scully??? Did Mulder just say OK
Scully?? Maybe he is....calm down, Dana, he's probably just tired.> 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."

<You got that right> 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? <He can take care of himself> 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. <Where IS Mulder?>

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. <What is this doing so close to the piano?> 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. <Nothing? But
there was--> 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.
<How long does it take to investigate one room?> she thought. <Stop
worrying,
Dana. Mulder probably just stopped for food again or something.> 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.
<Light on?> 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?"

<Scully?> 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?

End Part 01 of 11.
=====================================
Part 02 of 11.

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.

<Speaking of Mulder....> 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 leaving 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. <Evidence> 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. <Mulder's up.> 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. <Maybe I should
rethink this hospital thing> 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.
<How did Joanna's fingerprints wind up on this bracelet?> 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 be
coming 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. <Probably a low
grade
fever> she thought, <Maybe a reaction to the concussion.>

"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.
<Damn it, Scully. Someday I'm going to _steal_ that gun.>

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.

<She thinks I'm crazy> 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.

End Part 02 of 11.
==============================================
Part 03 of 11.

Motel
6:09 p.m.

Scully frowned as she looked at the thermometer in front of her.
103. She
blinked. It didn't change. <How could his fever have gone up so fast?>
she
thought, as her medical mind tried to come up with a cause.

Mulder looked miserable. <Of course, he does> Scully thought, <You
would
too, if you just spent the last fifteen minutes retching.> 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. <Guess a trip to the ER
really
did help> 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.

<Correction, your ONLY daughter> 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. <The key to this case> 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?" <Scully?> 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.

<Who are you? Why are you talking to me?>

WELL... I CAN'T TELL YOU THAT RIGHT NOW.

<Well, when CAN you? You're USING me and I want to know. Are you
dead or
alive? What's your name?>

I TOLD YOU. JOANNA.

<Joanna what?>

A pause. JOANNA WASSERMAN. AND NO, I'M NOT ALIVE. I DIED IN 1993.

<We moved here in 1993.>

I KNOW

<How did you die?>

CAR. HIT AND RUN. I THINK IT WAS DELIBERATE BUT... I DUNNO.

<Yeah you do.> Katie thought. <Tell me. Can all dead people talk
like you
can?>

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. <Screw it,
I'm taking
this thing out.> 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. <It's probably the Valium-- or whatever-- that they gave me.> 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. <Ah, Scully.> 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.

<Is he feeling better, now?>

She could almost see Joanna's frown.

I'M SORRY... I CAN'T TAKE THINGS BACK.

Katie sat up. <What do you mean? You can't make him better? Will
he EVER
get better?>

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.

<How long?>

I'D SAY TWO-- THREE WEEKS

Katie groaned.

<You CAN'T take it back at all?>

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. <Damn.> 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.

<Please get up and recite the Constitution> she begged her
breakfast.
<Joanna?> She looked up at the wall.

YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN

<Can they hear you?>

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.

End Part 03 of 11.
===================================

Part 04 of 11.

The Martin's
Rutherford, NJ
1:00 p.m.

THE LADY FBI AGENT CAME TODAY Joanna said.

<Yeah I'm perfectly aware of that. I had to talk to her remember??>

OF COURSE. I HAD TO LISTEN TO YOU MAKE A FOOL OF YOURSELF TALKING
TO HER.

<Shut up.> On second thought, She added quickly. <Why do you
think she
cares that I'm talking to walls?>

I DUNNO. I GUESS YOUR PARENTS CALLED HER UP AND SAID THEIR DAUGHTER
WAS
ACTING STRANGE AND SHE SHOULD COME AND INTERROGATE YOU. BUT... I THINK IT'S
THE MALE AGENT, AGENT MULDER, WE SHOULD REALLY BE WORRYING ABOUT.

<Why? He's in the hospital now, isn't he?>

EXACTLY. YOU DON'T THINK PEOPLE WILL SOMEHOW CONNECT YOU TO AGENT
MULDER?

<Noooo.... I don't think so.>

WELL... I DO.

<You're paranoid.>

OF COURSE. YOU WOULD BE TOO IF YOU HAD BEEN KILLED WHEN YOU WERE
12.

<You were twelve? I'M twelve.>

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. <Mulder, why can't you ever listen?> "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. <Scully!> 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. <Now the
fun
part>

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.

<How did she...? Psychic ability? Jeez, I sound like Mulder!>
"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."

<I'm getting nowhere! Hmm... I wonder if her husband is more
cooperative...>

"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.

<She's back, isn't she?>

YES, BUT DON'T WORRY.

<Easy for you to say.>

DON'T WORRY I'LL TELL YOU WHAT TO SAY.

<Okay.>

"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." <Ready?> 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. <What?>

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
silence 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.
<Just like our case,> 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

<You could>

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

<He's okay, now?>

WELL, NOT FULLY HEALED. HE'LL PROBABLY PASS OUT IN ABOUT A MINUTE
FROM THE
LACK OF OXYGEN FOR SO LONG

<Wha-, whadya mean? You gave it back to him, didn't you?>

YEAH, BUT MY HANDYWORK ALWAYS HAS SOME.... UH, AFTERMATH

<Aftermath. Wonderful.> Katie leaned back against the wall. <Will
he be
okay, though? No brain damage or anything?>

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.

End Part 04 of 11.
============================