Disclaimer:  Yeah, right these characters are mine.

Category: SRA
Classification: Mulder/Scully UST
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Momento Mori and after
Archive: Gossamer. Others ask me.
Feedback: Knock yourself out. 
Summary: An accident disrupts Scully's normal routine.  
 
"Devotion" 
by Lisa  
(haven599@msn.com)


Trinity Hospital
Washington, D.C.
12:47 p.m.

    Mulder rushed through the emergency room doors, looking for 
Scully.  
    Why did this happen again?  He was tired of coming to 
hospitals fearing the worst for his partner.  That knot in his stomach 
when he received the call right in the middle of a meeting.  He felt
like he couldn't breathe.  
    He didn't bother with an explanation to anyone, just rushed out 
of the room and the FBI building, vaguely recalling Skinner's voice
demanding an answer.  
    He had to force himself to slow down on the drive over here - he 
was no good to Scully if his impatience caused an accident.    
    The woman who called him on the phone relayed that Scully had 
been in an accident and was hurt.  She didn't give many details 
over the phone, which scared him more than he already was, if possible.
Mulder gathered that she was conscious, more than likely she gave the 
nurse his cell phone number.  
    If only he hadn't ask her to run that errand for him.  She didn't
really want to go out in the noontime traffic, but he asked her - 
almost begged - her to pick up a book for him that he ordered at the
bookstore.  It was about, God he couldn't even remember the title
now, something along the lines of conspiracies in the government with
a touch of  extraterrestrial life as well.  Mulder remembered Scully
remarking that it would be good for a laugh or two, cheering her up
a little since she was having a bad day.  
    Which just got worse. 
    "Dana Scully?"  he said.  "Where is she?  I need to see her." 
Mulder told the woman behind the desk, who looked apathetic.  Didn't
she realize this was Scully? Didn't she understand?
    "The trauma nurses are in with her now."  The dark-haired woman
glanced at some paperwork, never looking up at him.  "In room number
three." she added.
    "Thanks,"  he said, rushing off in that direction.  He found 
Scully alone, lying on a bed with her eyes closed.  Her arm was 
bandaged.  There were some bruises and scrapes on her face.  
    Scully opened her eyes, hearing someone's presence. "I . . . 
never made it to the bookstore, Mulder."  
    Mulder reached for her good hand.  
    "It's not that serious.  Just a sprained wrist."  she whispered. 
    It looked worse than that to him.  She had been in a car 
accident.  Perhaps she was in a state of shock.  There were more
bandages on her face.  
    Mulder wasn't sure he wanted to know what happened.  Then 
the image would be burned into his memory.  Like all the other 
times she was in the hospital.  He hated to see her like this.  It 
brought back too many bad memories, especially of her cancer.
    When he was younger, Mulder thought when Samantha came back
it would be at a hospital, which was why he hated and feared them.
Now, he only thought of Scully.  The way she looked after her 
abduction.  When he thought she was going to die from cancer.  
    She looked like she was asleep.  Mulder crept out of the room
and found a nurse outside.  "Is it all right for her to leave?" 
    "I don't know, sir.  I'll have to ask her nurse."  The woman 
replied.  
    "I'm taking her with me."  Mulder couldn't stand to see her 
in another hospital, especially since this should have been him. 
Why did he ask her to do this for him?  
    He looked around the room and spotted Scully's purse and 
blazer, it still had her badge clamped to its lapel.  Scooping them
up, he turned his attention back to his partner.  
    A short, overweight blond woman burst into the room.  "Sir,
what are you doing with Miss Scully?" 
    "I'm taking her home."  
    "She may need to be kept overnight for observation."  
    "I'm the one they called.  I'll be taking her home." Mulder's
patience was running thin.  He was about ready to tell her he was 
an FBI agent.  Surely that would carry some weight. 
    "I have to get some discharge papers together for you to sign.
I'll be right back."  
    "It's going to be Ok, Scully.  You're going to be fine."  Mulder 
whispered to his sleeping partner.  The pain killers they gave her 
must have taken effect.  
    A few minutes later, the nurse returned with the papers and
 a prescription for Scully.  
    "Thanks,"  Mulder slipped both pieces into his jacket pocket. 
Scooping Scully into his arms, he carefully walked with her out 
of the building.  
    The nurse was about to say something, but instead just watched
them leave.  

****  
Mulder's apartment 
7:37 p.m.

    Mulder began to think about what she would need while staying
with him.  Clothes. Personal items.  Perhaps he would pick some
things up tomorrow, since he didn't want to leave her right now.  
    It could've been worse.  He should be grateful she only had a
sprained wrist and some cuts and bruises.  Still, he felt guilty. 
    Scully awakened, realizing she was in Mulder's apartment.  
Although she didn't remember leaving the hospital, she remembered
the accident.  
    She was turning left into the bookstore and another car turned 
in front of her.  It all happened so fast she couldn't recall who 
was at fault.  She thought there was a green arrow, but couldn't be
sure.  The traffic was heavy, since it was lunch time, and she began
to wonder why she agreed to run the errand.  
    Mulder. Of course, Mulder.
    She got out of bed and went into the living room.  
    "Scully, you need to rest."  Mulder got off the couch, coming
close to her.  
    "No, I need to make some phone calls - I have to call the 
insurance company and -"
    "I already did.  They'll call tomorrow to talk to you about the
accident.  Your car is at the body shop.  It may be a week before
it's fixed."  
    "Thank you."  Scully replied.  "But, I just can't stay here."
    "Yes, you can.  You are.  At least for a couple days." Mulder
took her arm, steering her back to the bedroom.  
    "What about work?" she asked.
    "Not for a couple to days.  Doctor's orders.  You should know
that."  
    Scully sat back on the bed.  Her arm was beginning to hurt again.
The injection must be wearing off.  
    Mulder noticed.  "I think your due for some medicine. I was 
going to go pick up some stuff at the store and go by your place
for some clothes.  Is there anything special you want?"
    "I can't think of anything."  She leaned back on the bed. All 
of a sudden her arm was throbbing more.  
    "Are you going to be all right while I'm gone?" He propped her
arm on a extra pillow.  
    She nodded.  "I think so." 
    Mulder brought her the bottle of pills and some water along 
with the phone.  "Call me if you can think of anything you need."
Kissing her softly on the forehead, he quietly left the apartment.     

****

    Mulder felt like he was doing something wrong being at Scully's
apartment all by himself.  He kept waiting for an alarm to go off 
or someone to knock on the door asking him who he was and why he
was here.  
    He didn't know what clothes she wanted and had a hard time finding
anything casual.  All her suits were precisely hung up in the closet. 
Nothing was wrinkled or had fallen to the floor.  Her shoes were 
neatly stacked in their original boxes on the floor.  
    Somehow, it didn't surprise him.  
    Mulder finally located some pants that weren't paired with a 
coordinating jacket and looked semi-casual.  She really didn't own
t-shirts, but he found some tops that he hadn't seen her wear, so 
figured those would do.  
    Pajamas.  She had tons of them hung up on the right side of the
closet.     
    He'd almost forgot underwear.  Opening the drawer, Mulder 
found mostly black and white pieces.  He pulled out a black silk 
bra that was virtually see-through.  
    "Oh God, Scully . . ." he whispered.  Now he would imagine 
*that* underneath her clothes when he looked at her.  Stuffing 
it back into the drawer, he knew he couldn't bring that back with 
him.  Scully would wonder about him even more so than she does
now.  He didn't need to give her any more ammunition.  So to speak. 
Choosing some more appropriate undergarments, he stuffed them 
in the suitcase. 
    Grabbing some things from the bathroom along with the books 
and magazines that were beside her bed, Mulder left the apartment 
and headed for the grocery store. 

****
Mulder's apartment 
1 hour later 

    She was watching TV when he returned.  
    "I couldn't sleep."  she said.  "I took some medicine.  It's 
beginning to work."  
    Setting the packages down, he asked her if she wanted to eat. 
Scully told him if he was making something, she would eat, but 
otherwise, she didn't want to be any trouble.  
    After sandwiches, Scully went to get ready for bed.  She found 
putting her pajamas on was harder than she thought it would be. 
Since her arm was bandaged to the elbow, that limited its movement
coupled with the pain, she couldn't button the top.  
    Mulder could help.  
    No, she would do it herself.  However, every time she tried 
it brought pain.  She'd have to ask him.  
    "Mulder, can you come help me with something?" 
    Scully was clutching the shirt together in her fist.  "Can you 
button this for me?" 
    "Sure."  Mulder didn't think about the restricted movement.  Most
of the clothes he brought had buttons.  
    Scully didn't look directly at him as he fastened each button, 
his fingers skimming over the material along with her skin lightly.
    His lips grazed over her forehead when he finished. "Good night." 
    Scully never looked at him, just climbed into bed. 

****
    The morning of the third day, Scully refused help from Mulder. 
However, he did insist on making her breakfast before leaving for 
work.  She finally convinced him to go.  One of them had to 
make an appearance.  He wasn't going to stay here and take care of 
her all day.   
    Mulder was doing too much for her.  He re-wrapped her arm in the
elastic bandage and used ice to keep the swelling down.  She could 
do that herself.  
    The clothes she still needed help with, unfortunately.  
    Scully spent most of the day contemplating taking a cab home.  
Her car might not be done until next week, but she didn't want 
to stay here that long.  It felt like an imposition on Mulder.  
She felt safe with him, so why can't she relax?  
    Taking a shower didn't help her clear her mind like she thought
it would. Then trying to get dressed was harder than she thought. 
The pain has lessened, but the function something entirely different.
She knew that, but was still hard to accept.  
    Scully noticed how messy Mulder's bedroom was for the first time.
How could he live like this?  His suits weren't even hung up neatly.
Shirts and jeans were strewn on the floor.  
    She found a grey t-shirt folded on a chair.  This looked like the
one he wore a lot.  She liked the way he looked in it.  Touching 
it, Scully noticed how soft it felt.  
    Dropping the towel, Scully carefully eased the shirt over her
head.  It was nice to put clothing on unassisted.  The shirt felt
even better on and fell to mid-thigh.  She shouldn't be doing this.  
    How could he live with his apartment this messy?  She was 
snooping around the place for lack of anything else to do.  It didn't
surprise her, but it bothered her that the state of his place didn't
bother him.  Nothing was in its place.  
    Well, until Scully ventured into the kitchen.  In the far corner 
of the counter were her discharge instructions, bandages, medicine,  
and other papers.  She looked at them.  He had written down when
she took her medicine, when he had applied ice to her wrist and for
how long.  It was basically a journal of the events since her injury.
It was all neat and organized.   
    "Oh, Mulder," she sighed.  "You don't have to do this for me."
She began to cry.  It didn't feel right.  She couldn't be dependent
on someone.  She didn't know how to handle it.  
    "Scully?" Mulder said.  "What's wrong?"
    She jumped, not even hearing him come in, so lost in her own
thoughts.  "What are you doing home so early?" She headed for the
bedroom to grab her own clothes.  He followed her.  
    "Let me wrap your wrist up again."  He grabbed the bandage 
off the bed that she obviously took off before her shower.
    "I can do it."  Scully slumped down on the bed.  
    "I want to make sure it's wrapped tight."  
    "Mulder, just give me the damn thing! I'll do it."  She was 
trying to wipe the tears away just as new ones were coming to 
take their place.  
    "Scully, tell me what's wrong."  Mulder knelt down in front 
of her.  
    "I . . . I shouldn't stay here.  I should be taking care of 
myself.  You don't need -"  she sobbed.
    He touched her hand.  "Do you want to leave?" 
    Scully shook her head slowly.  "No." 
    "Then don't.   I don't want you to leave, either." Mulder 
caressed her cheek.  Touched her hair.  "Let me take care of you." 
    "No one's ever taken care of me before. I don't know what to do." 
she admitted tearfully. 
    "You don't have to do anything."  Mulder leaned in closer to
her, wiping the tears away with his hands.  He placed a gentle kiss
on each of her eyelids.  "You don't have to do anything."  he 
whispered. 
    Scully came closer, embracing him as best as she could, her 
face pressed against his warm body. 

****
    Scully only ended up spending two more days with Mulder.  In 
that short amount of time she was able to see how devoted he was to
her.  She didn't want for anything. He seemed to anticipate her every
need.  And not just those related to her injury.  
    She wasn't a person that got sick often.  Aside from the cancer, 
Scully had been relatively healthy.  Even with the limited chemotherapy 
and radiation, she wasn't one to take time off work.  She didn't 
want to disappoint Mulder.  She wanted to be there for him.  
    That was hard to do some days, but Scully had that much of an
emotional investment in Mulder.  Thinking back on her other 
relationships, even the men who claimed to love her, wouldn't do 
this much for her.  
    Mulder. No man could ever or will ever love her like he does.  
    When the call came telling her the car was ready, Scully was a
little disappointed.  
    Driving to the body shop to pick up Scully's car, not much 
was said between the two of them, except how nice it was they were
able to fix her car this quickly.  
    After settling the bill, Scully came out of the office.  She
glanced up, seeing Mulder leaning against his car, arms folded 
wearing blue-tinted sunglasses.  He looked like he should be 
driving a race car or some other dangerous sport. 
    "Scully? You ready?" Mulder asked.
    "Yeah, I guess."  She walked slowly to her car.  
    Opening the passenger door, Mulder put her suitcase on the
seat.  "Why don't I follow you back to the city?" he said. "We're
going the same direction anyway."
    "Sure."  She couldn't tell if he was reluctant to leave her 
or not, especially with those glasses shielding his eyes.  
    Scully pulled out into traffic, thinking only about these past
few days with Mulder.  She was already missing him.  The way he
would gently massage her arm.  The warm microwaved towel almost 
made up for the ice cubes she had to endure.
    Missing the goodnight kisses he gave her on the forehead. 
    He even let her keep the shirt.  
    Flipping her indicator on, Scully slowly moved to the shoulder
of the interstate.  She glanced in her mirror to make sure Mulder 
would follow her.  
    By the time he pulled over and got out, Scully was half way to
his car. "It's over, Mulder. It's over."  She hugged him, oblivious
to the cars rushing past them.  
    Mulder gathered her close.  "What's over?"  
    "Our time. It's up."  He had taken off the glasses which were   
dangling from his right hand. The sun was reflecting off its tinted
lens. 
    She looked up into his eyes.  "My car's back.  We're not going 
to be together -"  This information just seemed to sink in right 
now, upsetting her.
    Mulder touched her cheek. There was a lull in the traffic.
Everything was quiet. "Even though you're not going to be staying
with me anymore, doesn't mean we're not together." 

****
END (1/1)