Date sent: Fri, 25 Jul 1997
From: TKDJen@aol.com

Disclaimers: The characters in this story do not belong to me. They belong
to the Holy Trio (Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and FOX Broadcasting).
They are being used with out permission, and are not being used for profit.
No 'fringes were intended in the use of the above material.

Title: "Struck Blind"

Author: Jennifer Garant (tkdjen@aol.com)

Rating: PG-13, Language

Category: MSR, Mulder-angst

Summary: After an accident that left him blind, Fox Mulder learns to deal
with his new disability.

Spoilers: None

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Washington Memorial Hospital
July 14, 1997
3:45 PM.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fox Mulder awoke to darkness. He heard someone moving around as he tried to
sit up, and was restrained by ties on his ankles and wrists, he felt gentle
hands pushing him back down to the bed. He could not see a face or where he
was.
A voice spoke, "Mulder? It's me. Scully. Dana Scully."
"Scully?" His voice was scratchy and his throat hurt from not talking for a
while. "I can't see. Where am I?"
A tear rolled down Scully's cheek, she didn't care. He couldn't see it.
She fought to hide the sobs in her voice as she answered him. "You're in a
hospital in D.C, Mulder." She didn't answer more than he'd asked. She
didn't want to tell him at all, but she knew she'd have to soon.
Mulder turned his head, trying to find where the voice came from. All he
could see through the darkness was a faint, dim, pinkish light. "Where are
you? I can't see."
More tears fell. She reached out to touch his arm, "I'm here, Mulder. To
your right."
He turned his head, and saw the silhouette of his partner. "Take the
blindfold off. Why am I blindfolded?"
This time she couldn't hold back the sobs, "You aren't blindfolded, Mulder.
There's nothing on your eyes." She choked out.
Mulder frowned, "What are you saying, Scully? Are you saying that I'm...oh,
God,... no... Am I blind?"
Scully began to cry, and Mulder saw the shadowy figure nod. "Yes, Mulder."

Mulder's head spun, and despite what Scully had just told him, he saw a
brilliant display of lights flash behind his eyes.
<Blind? No, I can't be. I can't! How? How could this have happened? No,
God, no! Please let her be lying!>
His throat began to close up, "Blind? No! No! *NO!*"
"It's going to be okay, Mulder. We're going to find out something.
Somehow." She touched his cheek and spoke comfortingly, trying to make
herself believe what she was saying.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Washington Memorial Hospital
July 17, 1997
10:30 AM
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three days. Mulder has been living in total darkness for three days. He
stopped talking. He sits there in his bed, his ties finally removed, staring
out the window beside the bed. I don't know why. He can't see anything
outside the window anyway. Still, he stares out into space. I want to help
him, but he won't let me. He won't even look at me. Or look TOWARDS me.
Maybe that's good. I can't stand to look into his eyes anymore. I've
always been able to tell what he's thinking and feeling by looking into those
deep, hazel eyes. But now, looking at them and seeing their glassy, glazed
over stare, it hurts. To know that he looks at me and sees nothing but a
shadow, to know that he will never see me again. I know this is hard for
him. It's hard for me. It has to be worse for him. I pray. I ask for God
to just make this a bad dream and make me wake up soon. I can't live in this
Hell anymore. I can't stand to see him like this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Washington Memorial Hospital
July 17, 1997
10:30 AM
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three days. I still can't see. It's true. I am blind. The doctor, a
woman named Dr. Smith, says I lost ninety- nine percent of my sight in both
eyes. She says that soon, they are going to teach me how to read Braille and
use a Braille typewriter. She says I'll be able to return to work, doing
deskjobs. I will have to write the case reports. She calls that work! What
about the stakeouts, and foot chases, investigations, and arrests? That is
my work. How will I find Samantha and the Truth? I can't even walk yet
without Scully holding me up and keeping me from running into walls! Oh,
God, why? Why me? There are more than five billion people in the world, why
did you have to choose me?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Washington Memorial Hospital
July 18, 1997
4:30 PM
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fox Mulder is like a big child. He has begun his therapy: learning how to
walk with the help of a cane, and learning how to read, and type Braille. He
has temper tantrums. He will be working with his tutor and just start
refusing to do anything. He does what he wants when he wants to do it, and
no one can stop him or make him behave. I try to talk to him, but what am I
supposed to do? Ground him? Threaten to spank him? <not that that would be
bad...> Send him to his room? No. He is a grown man. You can't discipline
an adult. Besides, he's nearly three feet taller than me and probably weighs
close to three times what I do.
I watch him now. He is working with the tutor, Julie, on a Braille typer.
He is doing well so far. He hasn't gotten the hang of feeding himself yet,
but he is doing good. We are trying to figure a way to teach him to
determine color, but that will be hard since he can't see, and he was color
blind when he could see.
We go for walks. He asks me to describe things I see. Colors and
shapes. He hears things and he can smell, touch and taste. Yesterday, he
asked a nurse to describe me. I started to cry. Thank God she didn't tell
him that. How can someone tell him what I look like? With that all he has
is his hearing. He could touch and taste me, though I doubt the nurses would
like that, and Skinner would blow his top if he found out. He may be able to
smell my perfume, and he hears my voice. I want him to see me. Will he
forget what I look like? I hope not.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Washington Memorial Hospital
July 18, 1997
6:10 PM
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I can't stand for Dana to see me like this. The nurse brought me my meal
while Dana was here. She's been here through all of this, Skinner gave her a
leave of absence.
I cringe when I think how I must look to her. I haven't quite learned how
to eat yet, and I get more of the meal on myself than I do in my mouth. I
have to wear a bib so I don't make a mess all over myself, it doesn't help
much. How must that look to her? A thirty-six year old man wearing a bib
and dropping food all over himself.
She tries to teach me. She has started learning Braille too, so that she
can read what I write. From now on all the X-files reports will be written
in Braille by me, and translated by her, so that Skinner can read them. She
works on teaching me how to walk again. It will probably be time for our
daily walk soon. We go through the park, and she tells me how things look.
I wish I could see them. I wish I could see her. Those sky blue eyes,
apricot red hair, creamy skin. I will forget soon. I don't want to forget.
Without my sight, all I have is hearing. I can't touch her. She holds my
hand when we walk sometimes, but I can't touch her enough to see what she is
like. I smell her. Her perfume, and the secret soap and water smell that is
hers alone. I can't taste her. I don't think I'll ever get that chance.
All I have now is my photographic memory and my hearing. Thank God, I've
always been able to recognize her by her voice. When I answer the phone, the
familiar "Hey, Mulder, it's me." that always greeted me. I miss that.
I hear the door open. It's Scully to take me for my walk. I feel like a
dog, going out for my daily walk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Washington Memorial Hospital
July 20, 1997
3:45 PM
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Julie says that you'll be able to go home soon, Mulder. We'll have to
come back to finish your therapy, but you'll be able to leave after." I tell
him. His face lights up. He is tired of this place, as am I. We have both
lived here for almost a week. The hospital food is nasty, and the nurses are
getting tired of Mulder's dry humor. I know how they feel. I've just
learned to live with it.
"Finally! I want out of here. I'll bet my fish are dead." He says
"I'll bet your fish were dead before you came here."
The look on his face suddenly melts and he looks away from me.
"Mulder? What's wrong? Did I say something?" I'm worried. I've never
seen a good mood die so quickly.
"I don't remember what happened, Scully. How I got like this. What
happened to me?" He asks, pointing at his eyes.
I had hoped that he wouldn't ask me that. I knew he didn't remember, and I
had hoped that he wouldn't want to. I have to tell him though. "Alan Kirby.
The man we were investigating a case on... got cornered in a old warehouse,
and you got too close. He sprayed something in your eyes. We don't know
what it is, but it made you blind. It basically ate away the eye tissue, and
without that tissue, you can't see." I tell him, it's the truth. I wouldn't
lie to him, but I know it isn't what he wanted to hear. He wanted it to be
some big fight, that he fought well until the end, not just a quick spray in
the eye and BAM it's done.
He looks at me. Well, more to the side of me, but he tries. His voice
drops to a whisper, "We're going to find the son-of-a-bitch that did this to
me, Scully. I'm going to find him."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Washington Memorial Hospital
July 21, 1997
2:00 PM
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They finally let me come home. Scully won't let me go home alone yet.
She's making me come to stay with her for a while. Making me. It's not
that hard to get me to stay at her house.
I feel a hand on my arm and I hear a voice in my ear. "Mulder, it's me,
Scully, come on, it's time to go." She tells me, tugging on my arm.
"Scully, you don't have to tell me who you are anymore. I knew who it was.
I know your voice so well, I could probably pick you out of the New York
City subway at rush hour." I tell her, I get up to start collecting my
things.
Scully chuckles. I have come to read her mood by her voice. Before the
accident, I looked at her eyes, but I can no longer do that, so I have
learned to measure the pitch of her voice. "Yes, you probably could, Mulder.
Come on, the nurses want you out of here."
"Me? I thought they'd be crying when I had to leave." I say sarcastically.
"You know, Mulder, sometimes I wish you'd lost your voice instead of your
sight." She says. I can imagine the look on her face. Her favorite,
enigmatic Skeptic Scully look. That's one thing I can go without seeing.
We reach the car, and I hear the engine turn and the car start to move.
This is weird. I haven't been in a car since the accident, and it's weird
not being able to see where you're going, I'm lucky Scully's always been the
one with a good sense of direction. Driving. That's something I hadn't
thought of. I guess Scully will be driving from now on. I hope her little
feet will be able to reach the pedals...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dana Scully's apartment
July 21, 1997
2:30 PM
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Okay, Mulder. We're here." Scully announces, getting out of the car and
going around to help me out of the car. "Remember the stairs. Stairs are
new for you."
Scully helps me carefully up each stair till we reached the top. I feel
like a baby, needing Scully's hand to get up the stairs, and I still need a
hand when walking in new places. Not that I mind holding Scully's hand. He
was glad that he finally had an excuse to do it, but sometimes he just felt
so helpless.
Once in Scully's apartment, she lets my hand go, and I begin my usual
process; wandering around the room carefully, finding each piece of furniture
and memorizing its location and feeling things so I know what went where. It
has become second nature to me.
Scully gave me the guest bedroom to stay in. I unpack some things we
brought from my apartment. Clothes, shoes, my fish, which are miraculously
still alive, my toothbrush and comb. I hang all my clothes in the closet, and
set all my stuff up in the bathroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dana Scully's apartment
July 21, 1997
6:30 PM
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cooking. One thing I've never been good at. Before I could see what I had
cooked, but I couldn't tell what it was, now I can't see what it is, but I
can tell what it is. Ironic. Scully has been trying to include me in
everything she does. Now we are making dinner. She has me stirring a pot of
something that smells like marinara sauce. She is on the other side of the
kitchen chopping carrots for a salad.
"Have you ever made spaghetti, Mulder?" Scully asks me.
"I tried, once, but it didn't work too well." I reply.
"Well, maybe you'll learn how to cook something other than a microwave
meal." She says playfully.
"Hey! Don't be getting on me just because I never took home-ec in High
School."
"Yeah, you were too busy with your French classes." She retorts. She
dishes the spaghetti noodles out of the pot onto plates and carries them to
the table. "Can you say one thing in French?"
I follow her to the table and pull out her chair for her. She sits and I
push it back to the table. "Bon appetite, Mademoiselle Dana." I smile. I
can just imagine her look, red eyebrows up almost to her hairline, and her
lips curved in a smile.
"Everyone knows what "Bon appetite" means, Mulder." She says taking a bite
of spaghetti.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dana Scully's apartment
July 21, 1997
8:00 PM
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We sit now, watching TV. Well, I listen to it. I work on reading a Braille
novel that Julie gave me. I hate this. It takes too long to read a book
written in Braille. I want to be able to look at something and read what it
says, not having to touch and feel the stupid little bumps to read it. I want
to be able to watch TV with Dana. I hear the voices, and I understand the
jokes, but when something funny happens that doesn't involve words, a
character doing something stupid, I hear Dana laughing, but I don't have the
faintest idea what she's laughing about.
"Mulder, do you want to play a game or something?" She asks. I think she's
using her mind reading powers again.
"No, I think I'm going to go to bed early. Good night, Scully." I get up
and feel my way to my room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dana Scully's apartment
July 22, 1997
9:00 AM
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wake up to find Dana eating breakfast in the kitchen. She pours me some
cereal, and I taste it tentitivley, not knowing what kind of cereal it is.
It's Frosted Flakes. Very un-Scullylike.
"Do you want to go out today, Mulder?"
"Where?" I asked, I'm not sure if I want to go out in public yet.
"Well, I was thinking that maybe we could go to the bookstore and get you
some more books, and you have you thearapy with Julie at 3:30."
"I think I'd like to go out, Scully." I lied, knowing that Scully would
probably make me go anyway.
"Okay, then. We'll go out later, do some shopping, and get some lunch."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dana Scully's apartment
July 22, 1997
10:00 AM
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We ate breakfast and got ready to go out. I wandered my way into the living
room looking for my shoes when I heard Scully laughing.
"What's so funny?" I ask
She stops laughing immeadiatley. "It's nothing." She says quietly.
I realize that she was laughing at me. I did something wrong. I frown.
"What is it? Tell me."
"Mulder..." Her voice is almost a whisper. "Your socks are different
colors." She pauses. "And your shirt doesn't match your pants."
I stop looking for my shoes and try to look at her. I see her shadow, but I
can't tell what she's doing. She gets up, takes my hand and leads me down
the hall to my room. I sit on the bed and I can hear her going through my
closet and the dresswer.
"Here, Mulder. These socks are white and they match your white shirt.
There now you match." She says handing me a pair of socks and a white T
shirt.
I change my shirt and put the socks on. Scully has my shoes. I put those
on, too.
"Oh, Mulder. It's okay." She says, wiping a tear off my cheek, I didn't
even realize that I was crying. The touch on my cheek breaks the dam, and I
let the tears fall. I don't want to cry. Men don't cry, but I'm so tired of
this. I'm tired of being looked after, and given things I can do, and having
to learn how to read Braille, and learning how to walk. I went to school. I
learned how to write and read. Why do I have to do it again?
Scully sits beside me on the bed and I feel her arms pull me closer, into
her strong but gentle embrace. "Mulder, you are doing fine. It's okay to
make a mistake once in a while."
"I'm tired." I cry "I don't want to be like this anymore. I don't want to
have to be taken care of like a little kid. I'm an adult. I can't even
dress myself anymore."
"It's okay, Mulder. I know that you don't understand this yet, and that
it's hard for you, but you have to try. You can't give up, okay?"
"I understand! I do! I got sprayed in the eyes with some chemical that
made me blind, and now I'm a helpless handicaped! What is there not to
understand?" I'm screaming at her now. I sit there in her arms for what
seems like hours, crying. She holds me, whispering into my ear. I finally
fall asleep. Something I've been wanting to do since the day I met Dana
Scully. Fall asleep in her arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dana Scully's apartment
July 22, 1997
8:30 PM
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day went along smoothly. I awoke still in Dana's arms, and we went to
my thearapy session with Julie. Dana left while I was working and bought me
a new book on extra terrestrials. Then we went home and made dinner, and now
sit here in total silence. I'm reading my new book, and Dana is reading
something. I don't know what it is. We have hardly spoken all day. I
figure that it's one of her pathology novels, but how would I know? I can't
see the cover.
This book Dana bought is stupid. It's about the Roswell cover-up. Nothing
I didn't already know. I'm suprized that Dana would buy it.
The silence is killing me. I begin to wonder if I've gone deaf too.
Scully reads my mind again. She breaks the silence. "Mulder, can we talk?"
"About what?" I reply. My voice is rough from not talking much.
"About us, Mulder." Scully says, her voice sounds strained. Like she's
trying not to cry.
"Why?" I know I'm being difficult, but Dana's used to that.
"Because, it's something I've been thinking about a lot."
<Oh, great!> I think to myself. <This is it. Dana's going to tell me that
she doesn't want me staying with her anymore. She's going to send me back to
the hospital for Julie to take care of. I'm a burden and she doesn't want me
anymore.>
"Talk." I tell her. I know she's going to anyway.
"Well, Mulder...Fox"
<Oh no, she called me "Fox"! This is serious.>
"I've been thinking that since...I-I-I" She stumbles over her words like
Porky Pig. This is different for her. She's usually able to say whatever is
on her mind. She pauses and sighs. "I want us to get married, Mulder." She
blurts out quickly.
My head spins and I see those flashes of color behind my eyes again. Red,
blue, green, and yellow. They are a comfort after the endless pinkish-black
I've been in for so long. <She wants to get married. So she can be here to
take care of me. She wants to take care of me.>
"Scully, I want to get married too, but I can't marry someone out of pity.
I want someone who loves me." I tell her firmly.
Now she starts to cry. Great, I made her cry. Why is everyone crying
today?
"*I* love you, Mulder. I wouldn't want to get married if I didn't."
I don't know what happened, but the colors behind my eyes got brighter.
Flourescent.
"Are the neighbors asking you questions, Scully? About why I've been here
so long. You want to make them think that whatever we've been doing in here
is getting ready for a wedding, Scully." I get up and start to leave. "I
can't marry you, Scully. I can't marry someone who feels sorry for me and
wants to take care of me. I can't. I *won't*!" I'm screaming again.
"Mulder, stop it! Stop it now!" She's yelling now too, I feel a sharp
sting across my cheek. She hit me. I never saw it coming. I couldn't see
it coming. "Stop trying to be difficult and feeling sorry for yourself!
That's what you're doing! Beating up on yourself for letting this happen!
You have to deal with this, Mulder. It's a fact that you're gonna have to
deal with sooner or later, and if you wait, it's going to be harder! You've
always been alone, because you isolate yourself. Stop isolating yourself and
let someone in! Let *me* in!" I hear her drop back to the sofa and cry.
I am stunned. Stunned by more than the sting from her slap. Stunned by her
words. They're true. I have isolated myself. Locked myself in my office
with all my aliens and mutants and phsycotic killers. I never even saw it.
Saw her. I *saw* her, but I never saw *inside* her. I never saw that she
loved me. I never saw that *I* loved *her*. I move to sit beside her on the
sofa, and hug her. I whisper to her.
"Oh, Scully. Dana, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I do love you. I just can't
marry someone who only wants to take care of me. I have to marry a woman who
loves me, someone that I love back. I never realized. I never saw it. Saw
that I had found that person. You. I found that person when I found you. I
do want to get married. Let's do it.
She freezes for a second. I feel her hand on my cheek again, rubbing at the
spot where she hit me. There is laughter in her voice.
"I made a handprint." She tells me, touching her hand to match the mark on
my face. "I'm sorry, Mulder. I don't know what happened. I- I just got so
angry. I'm sorry."
"Fox, Dana." I tell her.
"What?"
"Fox. Call me Fox."
"Only if you call me Dana."
"Agreed." I say, putting my hand out for her to shake it. She takes my
little finger and hooks hers around mine.
"Pinky swear." She whispers.
"I love you, Dana Scully." I whisper as I bend down and find her mouth with
mine. She is sweet, like sugar, and chocolate, hotter than fire, and cooler
than ice at the same time. I taste that secret, unique ingrident that
belongs to her alone. I don't know how we're going to do this, how we are
going to make it work, but I know that we will.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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e-mail tkdjen@aol.com.