Death and Rebirth

Mulder's Apartment

8:15 PM

Mulder drifted into consciousness. At least it was light now, where

before it had been dark. He became aware of air on his skin, so he

wasn't completely dressed, apparently. He finally focused on the edge

of a coffee table and the ceiling beyond. It looked like his coffee

table. And that hairline crack in the shape of a fishhook was

unmistakably on his ceiling. The question then occurred to him, "But

why am I lying on the floor in my apartment?" He wondered about that

for a moment, then tried to turn his head. Nothing happened.

"Don't panic. Try again." But he couldn't move anything at all, no

matter how hard he concentrated. He couldn't even blink, he realized.

"NOW you can panic," he thought. And he knew then what was in the

back of his mind since he tried to move; he couldn't even feel the

inhalation and exhalation of his breath, nor his heart beating in his

chest. Nothing. No, wait; there was the hint of a pulsation deep

within, but oh so far away and indistinct.

Suddenly a knocking sounded loudly at his door.

"Mulder! It's me!"

"Scully!" he exulted. "She'll know what to do."

Another series of knocks sounded. "Mulder!"

Finally he heard a key in the lock and the door creaked a bit as it

opened. Scully shut the door behind her, and walked toward the living

room, but halted abruptly when she saw Mulder lying on the floor by

his couch, head slightly turned, eyes open, wearing only his blue

boxers.

"Mulder! My god, what happened?" She shoved the coffee table out of

her way and knelt beside him. She frantically tried to feel a pulse

at his throat. Finding nothing, she put her ear against his chest,

which was uncomfortably cooler than normal in the warmth of his

apartment.

"No," whispered Scully as it became clear that there was nothing to

feel or hear in his chest. She put her hands on each side of his head

and turned it so she could gaze down into his fixed and unreacting

eyes.

Now Mulder's name ripped from her throat, and tears ran down her face.

Some fell on his body and they felt warm to Mulder. But he still

could not react in any physical way. It hurt him to see Scully so

devastated and he wanted to reassure her that everything was OK - that

he wasn't dead...but was he? He didn't know for sure, but didn't

think so.

Scully knew that he must have died at least an hour or more ago, by

the cooling of his body.

She tenderly brushed a stray lock of hair from Mulder's forehead and

brokenly sobbed, "Oh, Mulder." She gently closed his eyelids, then

leaned down and kissed his lips. Mulder could feel the softness of

her lips on his, and marvelled at how wonderful they felt. If only

the kiss hadn't been out of pity...

Sitting there in shock, she was incapable of any action. Then she saw

the pill bottle where it was lying on the coffee table next to a water

glass. The bottle was empty and the label was missing. With her hand

shaking, she managed to take her cellular phone from her purse and

dial a number.

She was vaguely surprised when Skinner answered his own phone, but

then remembered it was late Friday night and Kimberley had probably

gone home long before.

"Skinner."

"Oh, sir, I'm..." Scully took a deep shaky breath, then went on,

"I'm at Mulder's apartment. Please...I need you to come here, now."

Skinner was taken aback, since Scully was usually so poised and

self-assured. If she was distraught, it must really be a catastrophe.

"Agent Scully? What's wrong?" She managed to get out, "He's...Mulder

is dead." She sobbed openly then, holding onto the phone with

whitened knuckles.

There was a pause. Skinner felt a sharp stab of pain at the thought

of losing Fox Mulder, and finally managed to reply, "Stay there, Agent

Scully. I'll leave right away with some technicians, after I notify

the police." Then he added, "Will you be OK?"

She shook her head from side to side and whispered, "No," and

disconnected.

Mulder was in agony over the distress he was causing Scully. And he

was terrified, too, that he was truly dead and doomed to see first-

hand all the misery his dying would cause.

Scully was weeping quietly by his side with an occasional deeper sob

wracking her body. "There's so much I wanted to tell you. I thought

we had so much time..." Then, "Oh, Mulder!" The words tore out of

her heart.

When the experts on death arrived, they found Scully cradling Mulder's

head in her lap, her eyes brimming with grief.

Skinner touched her shoulder and said, "Let them take care of Mulder

now, Dana." She looked up and saw that he was grieving, too.

She laid Mulder's head gently against the carpet, touched his cheek,

and let Skinner help her to her feet.

She sat in the front room with him for awhile, lost in her memories.

Skinner talked with the police, and with his agents and specialists

from time to time, always returning to Scully's side.

Meanwhile, Mulder suffered the indignities of the dead; photography,

probing, poking, and measuring his body, then being placed in a body

bag. The zipper closing over his face made him finally lose it. He

was silently screaming, knowing no one could hear him or see his

terror.

As the body bag was carried past Scully towards the door, she

automatically began to reach out, but halted her hand before it

reached its goal. Instead, she stepped in front of a tall, thin,

balding, bespectacled man who was speaking into a tape recorder.

Scully placed her hand on his arm and he immediately stopped talking.

Her eyes questioned him, and he nodded.

"Dr. Scully, he has no visible injuries. The only thing I have to go

on is the empty pidl bottle at thi3 point. Thcre is also a needle-

mark at his inner left elbow/_ÛVer9 fresh. I almost missed seeing

such a small puncture. In addition, his body is cooling much slower

than is normal. No rigor is evident yet. Until the autopsy is done,

toxicology results received, and all the other tests completed, I'm

afraid it just appears to be a suicidal overdose of some sort." After

a pause, he added, "I can't fix a time of death yet, either. Based on

body temperature and other indications, I woull normally say it would

have"been no more than an hour ago, but that's about when this crew

arrived, so that can't be right."

He was interrupted by a young technician named Mary Gray who held an

evidence bag in her hands. "Excuse me, but we found this under the

sofa where it had rolled." She held the bag up and they could see it

was a hypodermic needle, apparently used.

Larson said, "Thank you. Go ahead and send it with the other stuff to

the lab. I'm coming down there in a minute."

Ms. Gray nodded and went back to finish up the inspection of the

scene.

Scully asked Larson, "When will the autopsy be performed?"

"I'll do the autopsy myself in a couple of hours." When an agent

died, schedules got shifted to take care of their own.

"I'll stay out of the way of the autopsy for obvious reasons, Dr.

Larson, but I'm going to be present for it."

He obviously didn't like that idea, but decided against trying to

argue with her. He only commented, "Better clear that through AD

Skinner."

Now all but Scully and Skinner had left Mulder's apartment. Skinner

moved to her side and said, "I've sent an agent to his mother's house

to break the news in person. You need to go home and call someone who

can stay with you right now. Could I give you a ride back to your

place, Agent Scully?"

She shook her head and thanked him, saying, "I'll be all right. I'll

see you Monday morning, sir." She deliberately avoided mentioning her

intentions for the next few hours, as she knew he would forbid her

attendance at the autopsy of a partner.

Skinner looked as though he would say more, but Scully turned and left

the apartment.

Meanwhile, Mulder had been given a ride to pathology, where a name/

number tag had been placed on his big toe. He had lost his boxers

which had been bagged and sent for analysis of foreign substances,

fibers, etc. The pill bottle, water glass, and hypodermic needle had

also gone for testing. Finally, he had been temporarily placed in a

refrigerated drawer.

Silence settled all around him. Mulder was very cold and could do

absolutely nothing about it. He knew exactly where he was, and

thought he would probably be insane by the time they got around to

actually cutting on him.

Time stretched on forever, when suddenly Mulder was startled by the

jerky motion of the opening drawer.

"You get the feet; I'll get the shoulders." Two men moved him onto a

wheeled table, shut the drawer again, and rolled him down to a vacant

autopsy room.

The man with a deep voice commented, " You know who this is, don't

you?"

A noncommittal grunt was the only response.

"It's 'Spooky' Mulder. You know, the weird agent who's got those

wacky ideas about alien abduction and stuff?"

"Never heard of him."

"Don't you ever listen to the talk around here?"

"I got enough to worry about than listen to that crap."

They arrived at their destination and lifted Mulder onto the stationary

table. They quickly arranged the sheet over him, and left the room.

Mulder could still hear the deep voice as its owner walked down the

hall. "Yeah, they say he offed himself."

That surprised Mulder. Why would they think that? This must appear

to be a suicide for some reason. But what the hell *did* happen? He

couldn't remember anything at all.

Time seemed to drag on forever, and finally he heard someone else

enter the room.

Scully had arrived to see that the autopsy room was prepared, and her

gaze was immediately drawn to the still figure that lay under a sheet

on the stainless steel table. She took a deep breath when the

realization of the loss of this man stabbed right through her. She

had to lean onto the table's edge for support, it hit her so hard.

After a moment she stood unaided again, eyes bright with unshed tears

and a hand to her mouth. She left the room to wait for Dr. Larson in

the corridor.

Dr. Larson approached the autopsy room and saw that Agent Scully had

already arrived and was wearing a white smock and had tied her hair

out of the way. He put his hand on her arm and said, "This will be

too hard on you. You should go home. I promise that I'll do a good

and professional job. For him, for you, for all of us."

She held his gaze a moment, then said softly, "I need to do this.

I'll just assist if I may. And I'll leave the minute it affects my

work."

He finally nodded, and they entered the room.

Scully knew that she had made a mistake being here when Dr. Larson

drew the sheet from Mulder's body. He looked so much like...Mulder.

He certainly didn't look dead. In all autopsies she had performed,

very seldom did it appear that the subject was just "sleeping."

It was then that Scully knew she could never watch an autopsy

performed on him, much less assist at one.

Dr. Larson was recording his observations of the exterior condition of

the body. He had already done this once at the scene, so he cut this

session short. He then picked up the implement for the "Y" incision

of the body cavity.

Scully cleared her throat and said, "Doctor, I...I can't do this after

all. You were right. I'll be outside."

Mulder's eyes were shut, but he knew what was coming. He desperately

tried to lift a little finger, anything, to no avail. He had hoped

for unconsciousness before this point, with no luck. Then he felt the

cold metal touch his sternum and silently began screaming.

Scully's eyes moved nervously away from this part of the procedure as

she turned to leave the room. But there was something...

"Doctor, wait!" she called loudly, startling Dr. Larson as he was

beginning the incision. He removed the implement and gave her his

attention.

If Mulder had been able to communicate at that point, he would have

been babbling. Betraying his cool exterior. Acting very much like a

man having a nervous breakdown. What almost happened was enough to

make him black out, but the nature of his condition wouldn't allow him

the luxury, so he just had to deal with the emotional trauma.

She moved to Mulder's side and pointed with an unsteady finger at his

arm, inside the elbow. Dr. Larson stared at the black bruising all

around the puncture from the needle.

Scully commented in a semi-hysterical voice, "Bodies don't bruise

after death. You said you almost missed this because it was fresh."

Her eyes travelled to Mulder's chest where Dr. Larson had broken the

skin. "And they don't bleed, either."

They both looked in shock at the thin rivulet of blood making its way

down Mulder's chest from the site of the broken skin where Dr. Larson

had begun the incision.

In a sudden flurry of movement, both doctors got Mulder covered,

trying to retain what little body heat there may have been. Scully

called 911 so they could get him into a hospital at once, then took a

sample of his blood for immediate analysis. Dr. Larson volunteered to

walk it through, and left quickly.

Scully stood next to Mulder with her hand on his arm, and said, "If

you can hear me, Mulder, we know you're alive and we're going to bring

you back to us. Please hang on." She lay her head against his neck

and whispered, "I'm so sorry we put you through this. Please, please

hang on."

Things began happening very fast then. Scully rode in the ambulance

which delivered Mulder to George Washington Hospital. She held his

hand and spoke reassuringly to him during the trip and while being

transported through emergency. It seemed like an army of medical

staff awaited their arrival, and they began trying to save his life.

They ran tests, an IV was inserted, they gave as well as took fluids,

warming blankets were applied, and procedure followed procedure, as

they frantically worked on Mulder's still form.

Scully kept out of the way as best as she could, but was never very

far from the partner she had thought she had lost. She was thinking

about the terror he must have been going through if he had been

conscious the whole time.

(Continued in Part 1B)

Part 1B

Scully's cell phone rang. She answered it with a distracted,

"Scully."

"Larson here. Mulder's condition is a result of an injection of some

derivative of the curare family of poisons. We haven't yet pinned it

down exactly, nor do we know the quantity given." There was a pause.

"The physical evidence has disappeared."

"What do you mean, disappeared?"

"Just that. The evidence left the scene in a container that Mary Gray

had entrusted to Agent Girard and, according to Agent Girard, was

personally handed to a lab technician here, who signed for it. The

lab tech said it was placed on a counter while he went to get the

materials for sampling and testing, and when he returned, it was

gone."

Bitterly, Scully commented, "Mulder and I have run into the

'disappearing evidence' routine quite a bit, and it's not funny

anymore. Have you told the doctors here about the curare in his

blood?"

Dr. Larson said that he had someone on another line right now talking

with the hospital about it, and they were setting up an open line so

that information could be relayed as it was developed.

"Are you OK?"

Dr. Larson's question startled Scully, who had heard that same

concerned question many times from Mulder.

She answered tiredly, "I'm fine." The same answer she invariably gave

Mulder. Thanking him for all he was doing, she disconnected and

turned to look up the hall toward the room where they were working on

Mulder.

She saw a burly-looking doctor in a white jacket get off the elevator

at the end of the corridor. He was carrying what looked like vials

and a syringe with a folded towel. He looked straight at her, then

quickly looked down at his shoes and began walking toward her, but not

before she recognized him. She had last seen him with "Cancerman,"

their nemesis in the "Shadow" government, when their jobs were on the

line and Skinner was arguing against shutting the X-Files department

down permanently. She was certain of two things: He was not on either

her or Mulder's side; and, he was no doctor.

She reached for her gun, but remembered she had removed it before the

autopsy and had never replaced it in all the commotion getting Mulder

to the hospital.

The "doctor" saw her gesture, turned around, and ran for the stairwell

exit.

She ran after him, but stopped as she reached the doorway where Mulder

was being treated when she realized the commotion level had

drastically risen in the room.

"We've lost him!" yelled a young doctor in distress.

An older, bearded doctor was quickly preparing a syringe, muttering,

"No, you don't, dammit. Not after we've gotten you this far. There!"

He moved to Mulder's side and quickly injected the solution directly

into his neck artery.

Scully was still standing in the doorway, eyes wide, afraid to move or

breathe. "Oh, God, Mulder. Stay with me, don't leave. Please hold

on." The thoughts were desperately flowing while she tried to keep

hysteria at bay.

A disembodied voice in the corner was asking, "What happened? Is it

working? Somebody talk to me!"

One of the nurses approached the forgotten speaker phone and said in a

raised voice, "We're waiting, Dr. Larson. Just a second....YES!!!

He's responding!" Everyone was staring at the monitors, which had

begun to register increased activity. A cheer rose from the

gathering.

Scully slumped against the door jamb and felt her heart thumping

rapidly in her chest. A tear of relief threatened to spill over onto

her cheek. Then she remembered the pseudo doctor, and realized he

would be long gone by now.

"What on earth had he been planning to do? Maybe finish the job on

Mulder? And why are they attacking again, after Skinner had gotten us

a 'deal' to be left alone?" As far as she knew, the disc information

was still secure in the hands of the Navaho nation, and could be

exposed by Skinner if 'Cancerman' harmed Scully or Mulder.

She was aware suddenly that the room was being vacated and she was in

the way. Moving inside the room against the wall, she waited for the

bearded doctor to reach her vicinity, then held her ID up so he could

see it, and asked him, "Doctor, I'm his partner in the FBI, Agent Dana

Scully. I'm a doctor, as well. What can you tell me about his

condition?" The doctor gave her a tired smile and replied, "He will

probably be all right now. Thanks mostly to your colleagues at the

FBI labs, that is. With their analyses and proposed solutions, we

were able to finally stabilize his nervous system where the poison was

doing the most damage, and then address the pulmonary and respiratory

problems. They had been dangerously suppressed, and would have truly

shut down permanently if the antidote along with epinephrin hadn't

'jump-started' him in time."

"Will there be any long-term damage?" She was afraid of the answer.

He bit his lower lip and thought about it. "Not likely, but short-

term he may have trouble with physical and mental stress for a while;

shortness of breath, sweating, blurred vision. But that shouldn't be

for long since he's young and in pretty good health to start with."

She thanked him so he could get on with his duties, and then studied

the various monitors to get an idea of what Mulder's systems were

doing right now. And was shocked to see his eyes open and looking at

her when she glanced down.

These eyes were aware, unlike the glazed ones she had seen a few hours

ago. They were wide open, the hazel depths carrying a wealth of

meaning as he returned her gaze.

She stepped up to his side and reached for his hand, carefully

avoiding the IV needle and tubes. "Hi," she said as she smiled

down at him.

They had removed the airway, but the plastic tube had irritated his

throat and she knew it would be painful if not impossible for him to

talk yet. But he did manage a raspy croak that sounded like

"Scul..ly."

"Don't try to talk yet. Here, I'll get you some crushed ice. It'll

help." She reached over to a tray on the side counter and retrieved a

paper cup of ice with a plastic spoon the nurse had thoughtfully left

and carefully spooned a bit into his mouth.

While that made its way down his throat, she asked, "Were you

conscious while we thought you were dead?" dreading the answer.

He slightly nodded his head affirmatively, and Scully winced. "Then

the autopsy room....?" He nodded again. She could see the pain and

residual fear in his eyes.

"Th..thank...you," he managed. She knew he was thanking her for

realizing he was still alive before Dr. Larson had made the fatal

incision. But then he added, with a gleam in his eyes, "..for...kiss."

The blush came suddenly and furiously to her face. She had forgotten

the goodby kiss she had given him while on the floor of his apartment.

Before she could think of an adequate reply, however, she saw that he

had drifted off to sleep, a slight smile on his lips.

She turned to look for a chair, having no intention of leaving him

alone and open to another murder attempt, and was startled to see AD

Skinner in the doorway. He looked as if he may have been standing

there for a while.

She walked over to him and said in a low voice, "He just went to

sleep." She gave a tired smile and added, "They think he's going to

be OK, sir."

He took her elbow and moved their conversation into the hallway.

"I've just been talking with the doctors and then called off the agent

who had been going to tell his mother that he was dead. Thank

goodness I caught him before he had given her that kind of

information. Now I can let her know that he's sick, but recovering;

much better news."

He paused and then asked, "You do realize that the evidence, other

than Mulder himself, has all disappeared?"

She nodded. "And I know who is behind this, and that they just about

got to Mulder again just a little while ago."

She explained all she knew and suspected, and saw that he had clenched

his teeth while listening to this old familiar refrain.

"Cancerman again." Skinner thought about it for a moment, then said,

"We'll have a 24-hour two-man guard on Agent Mulder just in case they

try again, but I really don't think they will."

Scully raised here eyebrows at this. "Sir? After what they've just

been doing?"

"Think about it, Agent Scully. They tried to get the FBI itself to

kill Agent Mulder - the autopsy would have done that. The plan

failed. The curare poison would have eventually killed him if the lab

and doctors hadn't come through so quickly with an antidote and rapid

treatment. So they failed again. They tried to supplement the curare

poison with some further lethal injection, but you recognized that

attempt and chased them off. They have to realize now that another

attempt would be overt and would throw a great big spotlight on them.

That will be enough to give me the excuse to throw them to the

wolves."

She said, "That sounds logical, but wouldn't they know that you would

know they were behind this from the beginning and would release the

information right away that they fear?" "No, their involvement would

have been suspected, but proving it would be impossible. Any attempts

from now on, however, they know we'll be watching for, and it would be

quite difficult to avoid getting caught and exposed."

"Well, just in case, I would like to remain here to see that no one

else tries to finish the job."

Skinner smiled and said, "Of course, Agent Scully. I'll have agents

stationed in the hall and at entrances and exits. But you need to get

some things together, I'm sure, if you intend to stick around here for

very long. Why don't you go run some errands and I'll stay here until

you get back? If he wakes up, I can reassure him of his safety."

She gratefully took him up on his offer and left the hospital after

taking one last look at Mulder and checking with the nurse to see

whether they would be putting him into intensive care or a regular

room.

It took an hour and a half before she returned to the hospital. In

that short time she had managed to take a shower and change, retrieve

her weapon, make some phone calls, and pick up some things from

Mulder's apartment for when he could maneuver again. Besides shaving

equipment, she made sure she brought underwear, sweats and regular

clothes; she knew how Mulder hated the nurse to 'see my bare ass

peeking out from this f****g hospital gown,' as he so elegantly put it

last time he was an inpatient at GW.

Scully swung by Admitting to make sure of Mulder's current location,

then took the elevator up to the fourth floor. As she neared the

room, she could hear Skinner's voice, and he sounded angry.

Cautiously, she peeked into the room and saw Skinner standing near

Mulder's bed, saying, "No. No, and don't bring it up again. The

answer will still be no. And don't give me the sad 'I almost died

so give me whatever I want' look."

When Scully discreetly cleared her throat, Skinner spun around and

glared at her. "Maybe you can talk some sense into this...this

idiot."

Scully cocked an eyebrow in curiosity, and approached Mulder's bed on

the opposite side from Skinner. She saw a partner in pretty much the

same condition in which she had left him. He looked ill with shadows

under his eyes, unshaven face, and a slight pallor to his skin. The

oxygen tubes still were in place in his nose and the IV needle was

taped to his arm.

She took his hand and looked into his eyes. "Whatever it is, I agree

with AD Skinner. You nearly died and you're far from well yet. So

behave."

He gave her such a sad helpless look that, if she didn't know him

better, would have brought a tear to her eye.

Mulder was able to speak a little better now, but it still took an

effort and was painful. "Scully. I just want you to get the Lone

Gunmen in here so I can talk with them for a few minutes." His

voice faded and he reached for the cup of ice.

She grabbed the cup for him and held it while he dipped a spoonful

into his mouth and crunched it with his teeth.

"Mulder, you need rest, not aggravation. That would be like bringing

the clowns from the circus in here with you. Besides, you're not

supposed to be working, but healing right now. If you really need

something done, I'll go talk with them for you."

She said this while internally gritting her teeth. Dealing alone with

Frohicke and his infernal crush on her was not Scully's idea of a good

time. The "Lone Gunman" referred to the name of the three men's

underground publication which dealt with government conspiracy, UFOs,

and a myriad of other strange and weird subjects; Mulder's favorite

magazine, next to "Love Slaves of Outer Space."

Mulder sighed and finally said, "Well, I suppose that's the best offer

I'm going to get on this." His eyes held hers, a pitiful sadness

still visible in their depths. But Scully held firm and wouldn't let

the ploy crack her determination.

She heard a sharp intake of breath behind her, and turned to see the

mysterious Mr. X, Mulder's source within the shadow government,

standing and facing Skinner near the door.

Mr. X kept an eye on Skinner while he spoke to Scully and Mulder.

"The Lone Gunmen won't be necessary in this case, agents. The matter

has already been taken care of. The instigator of this murder plot

was a rogue in the organization who didn't see eye to eye with the

powers that be, and has been dealt with in a very final manner. You

won't have any more trouble from that direction."

He approached Mulder's bedside and added, "I'm sorry you went through

this, Agent Mulder. A straightforward death is one thing, but this..."

He shook his head, turned, and walked out the door. Skinner made no

attempt to stop him, although he would dearly have liked to question

him about many things. He realized, however, that he would get no

answers and would probably stir up more trouble than it would be

worth.

Skinner spoke up, startling Scully, who had been wordlessly exchanging

gazes with Mulder.

"I'm going home, and I would suggest you do the same, Agent Scully,

since Agent Mulder seems to be doing quite a lot better. Good to have

you back with us," he directed to Mulder. He looked as though he was

about to say something more, but merely added, "Good night."

Once Skinner was gone, Scully drew a chair up beside Mulder's bed and

took his hand.

"Do you think he was telling us the truth about not having to worry

about another attempt?"

Mulder nodded, then rasped, "Yeah. He lies, but I don't think he was

lying about this. Now, what's that you were saying about having a lot

to tell me?"

She looked puzzled, then she realized he was referring again to her

words and actions when she had thought he was dead in his apartment.

Her blush was not as noticeable this time, but Mulder caught it and

smiled. He still felt the terrors grabbing at his soul, but felt that

he could make it with Scully's support, and it was always fun to tease

her unmercifully just on general principles. And besides, he thought

that they were going to have a little bit closer relationship now,

judging from her recent words and actions. His smile got wider until

it became a grin.

"What's so funny, Mulder?"

The End