Title: The Knack 2 (1/1)
Author: RocketMan >lebontrager@iname.com<
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to CC, 1013, and Fox. No fringe is
intended.
SPOILER:: Sixth Extinction, Amor Fati, etc.

=-=-=-=
The Knack 2
=-=-=-=

The tires were screeching, screeching, like condors cutting through the
sky in search of the hunted rat in the field. The car shuddered to a stop
and Scully fumbled with the door handle for an agonizing few seconds until
it popped open.

Mulder was shivering in the backseat, his face the white of clouds, but
not nearly as full or sun-slanted. His lips melted into the grey swatch of
his skin and she took only a moment to touch his forehead in promise
before running.

God, please.

She shot through the double doors, slamming into the emergency room with
her breath like bullets ripping out her lungs. No one turned, no one
noticed; she felt panic scrabble for a hold in her body, shaking.

"Hey, Hey! I need some help!"

Suddenly the eyes were shot through her, all eyes from every nurse and
orderly and doctor and patient. It was almost like the forest creatures
were coming out of their dark places to size her up.

She felt ready to collapse; the exertion of pushing Mulder to the car had
made her muscles like too tight rubber bands, stretched to break.

"There's a man. . .you have to help him. Please."

"Where, ma'am? Can you tell me where?"

Scully turned blindly to the man taking her shoulder, then ran back for
the doors, not even looking to see if the doctor was behind her.

Mulder. She had to get Mulder here, safe, now.

Please, God. He was too pale, too sick.
====

She was so weary, so very weary. Perpetual blackness hazed the edge of her
vision like darkness falling. Her hands refused to still, her fingers
shaking with every movement.

Her lips were dry with worry and she didn't even have the energy to fidget
in the cold plastic chair. The room was too bright, the chairs too hard,
the people all crowding around her as if they were packed tight into an
elevator heading down, down.

A nurse came to her side and touched her shoulder, causing Scully to jump
and lose her breath for a moment.

"Your friend, Mr. Mulder, has been placed in a room. If you want, I can
take you to see him."

"Has he woken up?"

The woman shook her head and Scully rose, her limbs heavy and limp with
fatigue and fear and the final relief of having Mulder back. She followed
the nurse down straight, sterile halls, frantic with activity at the
moment, but she was too concerned about Mulder to notice much.

"There you go," the woman said waving her hand inside.

"Thanks. I appreciate it."

She nodded tightly to the nurse and pushed aside the door to see Mulder.
His face was still that fish white pale that made her feel queasy and
worried, but his head was sterilized and bandaged and an IV dripped slowly
into his vein. She moved immediately to his bedside and took his hand,
smoothing her fingers over his dry, cracked knuckles.

"Mulder?"

She waited for a moment, but he was still, so she pulled up a chair and
pushed it close to his bed. Her weariness hit her hard, a tiny bird trying
to fly against hurricane winds, and she dipped her head to the bed, her
chin settling to the blankets.

"Mulder. . ."

There was silence still, and she sighed, trying to keep tears of relief
and worry from her eyes. He was going to be okay. He had to be okay now.
She wouldn't let him go back to that hospital; she would care for him
herself, even if he never regained full functioning.

She remembered their shuffle through the hallway, biting her lip. He had
seemed very sane, very capable. Maybe he would be okay. Maybe he would
wake up soon and smile at her and it would all be okay again.

She rested her cheek against the sheets then, giving in to the utter
weakness of her rebelling body. She wanted to stay up, watch him sleep,
watch him wake, but her screaming muscles would not let her.

"Wake up soon, Mulder," she whispered, reaching out a hand to stroke his
cheek from her resting position. His stubble was scratchy and it abraded
her palm, but she didn't mind because it was real and it was part of him
and he was back.

She sighed and let her eyes slip shut.

He was back. She could stop now. She could just stop.
====

Fingers were slipping clumsily down her cheek, over her neck, then to her
forehead, a continuous circle of clammy touch.

She took a breath, preparing to open her eyes, to confront the unknown.

She met dark brown and pale grey fingers, everything smiling at her.

"Mulder. . ."

He blinked and continued to stroke her cheek, but she raised up and took
his hand in hers, smiling brightly.

"Mulder?"

His lips parted to breathe, to think, to begin to speak. She watched his
throat work painfully, his eyes shift from hers to the bedside, then to
roam around the room.

"It's okay, Mulder. This isn't the psych ward. You're okay, safe."

He glanced back to her, then cleared his throat, wincing with the pain of
moving.

"Scully."

She smiled brightly at him, her eyes lighting up at the sound of her name
even in his weak, pitiful voice.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Hey," he replied, then squeezed her hand tightly.

"Do you. . .can you still. . .?"

"No. It's all quiet."

She bit her lip and smiled softly, then leaned forward and placed a gentle
kiss on his cheek.

"How'd you find me?"

"Some help. I. . .I really didn't expect it, but. . ."

She stopped and shook her head, watching his tongue dart to wet his lips,
then his head drop to the side.

"I'll tell you everything when you get some rest, Mulder. Just sleep now."

"'Kay, Scully. You sleep too."

She smiled and leaned in to give him a hug, not able to contain her joy.
It was like a bubbling in her, an eagle high and soaring.

"You look bad, Scully. Sleep."

She shook her head. "Look who's talking."

"Mm, I've been sleeping for a long time now."

"Yeah," she said softly and smoothed the hair away from his bandaged head.

"Thanks, Scully."

"Anytime, Mulder. I'm glad I got you back."

He attempted a smile then pursed his lips at her and blew a kiss, winking
as he did.

She leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his, despite the warnings
buried in her subconscious, despite the surprise they both felt.

"Mmm," he whispered.

"Well, thanks."

His eyes slipped close and then he was asleep again. Scully laid her head
back on the sheets and felt herself slipping away.

Everything back. She had everything back together again.

She smiled in her almost sleep.

She had a knack. Hadn't he said that before?

A knack.
=-=-=-=

end
adios
RM

======
Of making many books there is no end,
and much study is a weariness of the flesh.
--Ecclesiastes 12:12

For my webpage:
http://shannono.simplenet.com/basestation/
======