Wed May 07 1997
Falling (1/2)

VERY IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER NOTICE: This is a
'dramatization' of a comic book. There is a lot of stuff in here taken
directly from that comic. It is _Falling_, X Files Comic No. 13 by
Stefan Peturcha, Charles Adlard, Miran Kim and, of course, created
by Chris Carter. Since it was getting real hard to keep the quote
marks straight when I took things from the comic, I decided on a
different route. Just assume that everything said was from the
comic. I added most of the feelings. I suggest that you go out
(*if* you don't already own it) and buy this issue, read it and
recognize all the places that are directly from the comic. That way,
Topps gets to make more money, and they'll continue to produce
these comics (which are making them tons of money already) and
hopefully I can use this as my defense when they come to sue my
butt.

DISCLAIMER: As always, no copyright infringement is intended.
I know these three people worked hard on this comic and deserve
all the credit for the idea and the drawings are great. (Besides, if I
tried to draw any of this it would all turn out looking like stick
figures anyway.) Also, Chris Carter, 10-13 Productions and FOX
all deserve all the credit and praise and money they can get for the
whole concept of the X Files. I just couldn't keep my hands off
it--honestly, I don't want money, or lawsuits. However, therapy
might be nice :D

SUMMARY: In a weird twist, I took a comic book (X Files No.
13, Topps) and turned it into a story.

Please don't tell my kids.

Rating: PG

Category: SXA, no R

Spoilers: Max, slightly

Archivists: Feel free, just keep my name on it

Comments always begged for. vmoseley@fgi.net

Falling
Revised Somewhat and
Retold By Vickie Moseley
vmoseley@fgi.net

Adirondack Park, New York
Monday
12.26 am

The flash of light woke Jerry Goldfax, but the explosion
knocked him out of his bed. Something had crashed in the woods
near his little cabin. Something big.

Jerry wasn't a fearful man, but he wasn't blind to danger, either.
He searched around and found his flashlight, carrying it's weight
like a weapon. The crash was probably an aircraft. There were
plenty of plane crashes in Upstate New York, and this one would
just be one of many that the locals would talk about for years to
come. Jerry hoped to cash in on that, in some way. Maybe make it
on the news. A little celebrity status never hurt anybody. So he
went in search of the crash.

What he found was not what he expected.

Dana Scully's residence
Monday
5:35 am

The ringing of the phone woke her even before the alarm went
off. Scully yawned as she answered.

"Hi, Mulder, what's up?" she asked into the phone before the
other person had a chance to engage in conversation.

"See, Scully. I keep telling you that you're psychic. How did
you know it was me?" Fox Mulder asked with a quiet chuckle in his
voice.

"You are the only person who ever calls me at this hour,
Mulder. I'd kill anyone else."

"So that's the 'real' reason you shot me," he accused. The dead
silence that greeted his remark clued him into the fact that his
partner did not appreciate his sense of humor at this hour. "So, is
your suitcase unpacked from Friday night?"

"No, and please, Mulder. Don't tell me that we're going out
again?! I was hoping, no, I was actually looking forward to doing
*paperwork* this week!" she exclaimed.

"Now, you don't mean that, really, Scully. I know you better
than that. Look, I just got a call. The MUFON chapter in Upstate
New York says a downed UFO has been sighted in Childwood.
And guess what?"

"The President has scheduled a Summit meeting with the pilot?"
she quipped.

He chuckled again. "Close. The good townsfolk of Childwood
are being scared crazy by an alien walking the streets. Anyway, I've
got us a flight up there and it leaves in an hour. Hope you managed
to get some laundry done this weekend."

"Enough," she replied. "Are you picking me up?"

"I'm sitting outside your apartment now. Hurry up, it's cold out
here and my heater isn't working."

Childwood, NY Police Station
11:21 am

The Sheriff was anything but helpful. When it became apparent
that the 'alien' sightings were not simply a manifestation of some of
the towns' more alcoholically impaired citizens, he grudgingly
allowed Scully to help him in a search of the town.

Mulder decided that his time would be best spent going out to
the supposed crash. Checks at all the local airports confirmed that
whatever had fallen from the sky, it had not been an airplane. All
air traffic during the night had been accounted for. No distress
signals had been received. The cause of the crash was indeed
unidentified.

Scully and the Sheriff spoke to three residents who had reported
seeing the alien wandering around town in the early morning hours.
The first witness, a newspaper delivery manager, reported seeing a
figure, dressed in human clothing, wandering aimlessly down the
main street of town. When the manager called to the figure, it
darted down an alley, but not before the man got a good look at it.
He claimed the face was horrible, a mass of welts and bumps, and
that the eyes were overly large and dark. The hair was in clumps
on the head and it appeared that it was falling out, "Like a bad wig,
or something," the manager had described.

The other two witnesses, a waitress at the town square diner
and a jogger, couldn't identify the figure, but agreed that it looked
like it was on the run toward a residential area not far from
downtown.

Adirondack Park,
Monday
2:43 pm

Mulder really didn't mind leaving the house to house search to
Scully and the Sheriff. The pot-bellied man had been abrasive at
best, an asshole at worst and Mulder had the definite impression
that he would end up coming to blows with the Sheriff if he had
stayed in town. Besides, it was a beautiful day for a walk in the
woods. And getting Scully to agree to such walks, after their many
experiences, was getting harder and harder all the time.

The MUFON people had been as helpful as possible, but they
didn't have an accurate spotter in the immediate vicinity. So it was
left to Mulder to wander the trails, hoping to stumble onto the
fallen craft. If he could get there before any 'retrieval teams' beat
him to it, that is. The memory of the incident leading to the demise
of Max Fenig was still as sharp in his mind as if it had occurred just
yesterday. This time, Mulder wanted to be there first, and scoop
the MIB's. This time, he wanted something to bring home, and he
wasn't going to take no for an answer.

The trail was mostly wood chips and they crunched and snapped
under his hiking boots. It was a pleasant sound to walk to and he
was soon lost in thought, wondering what kind of craft he would
find, if, indeed there was an alien, no, an 'E.B.E.' loose in the streets
of Childwood. He was completely oblivious to the fact that he was
being watched from the woods.

It all happened so suddenly that he didn't even have time to be
alarmed. A twig snapped, a rope went taut and a very large tree
limb, almost two feet in diameter, came crashing down on top of
him in the matter of a few seconds. Mulder was knocked
unconscious by the force of the blow to his head, and pinned
beneath the limb, his left leg taking the limbs' full weight. His right
leg was bent at a precarious angle.

From the bushes stepped five boys, cautiously approaching their
catch for the day.

The Jones Residence
outskirts of Childwood
2:43 pm

The call came in just about 2:30. Mrs. Helen Jones, coming
home from picking her children up at day care, saw someone, or
something, entering her house. She called the Sheriff from her car
phone.

Dana Scully and the Sheriff arrived shortly, along with two
other cars of deputies. Scully lead the team, moving silently up to
the door and motioning for the Sheriff to provide back up. She
started to pull on the knob, when whoever was inside decided to
come out, knocking the agent down in the process.

Before Scully could stop him, the Sheriff took aim and fired.
The subject fell at Scully's feet, dead from the bullet wound in the
back.

Immediately, Scully knew they had their *alien*. But it wasn't
really an extraterrestrial biological entity. It was someone the
Sheriff recognized, Jerry Goldfax. His skin was covered with
hideous burns and welts, his hair falling out in big clumps from the
mottled flesh on his scalp.

"Sheriff, this man was suffering from severe radiation burns,"
Scully informed the officer upon a cursory examination of the body.
"We have to get a hazmat team up here, immediately."

Sheriff looked sceptical, but nodded and quickly got on the
phone to make the arrangements.

Childwood County Morgue
3:30 pm

Scully was amazed at how quickly the hazardous materials unit
was evac-ed to the small town. In just a little over half an hour, she
was in full bio hazard suit, preparing the body of Jerry Goldfax for
autopsy.

Before suiting up, Scully had tried to reach Mulder on his cell
phone. Ever since the incident with Bill Patterson, Scully had
insisted that Mulder carry his phone at all times, and *keep* it
turned on. He had assured her as much when he left her at the
Sheriff's office earlier in the day. The fact that she could not reach
him did not make her happy.

After the third attempt, Scully was seriously worried. She
notified the Sheriff that he needed to dispatch a few deputies up to
the park to search for Mulder. It would be imperative that anyone
in the area where protective clothing. It had been easy to see that
Jerry had been exposed to a large amount of radiation, and the most
likely source would be the fallen aircraft that had landed in the
woods.

As she started the autopsy, Scully's mind drifted to her partner.
It was so typical of him to run in to trouble, even in the middle of
nowhere. She hoped to finish the autopsy as soon as possible to go
out to the woods and help in the search.

She had completed the external exam and was about to make
the first incision when the doors of the room flew open and several
men in contamination suits stormed in and dragged her from the
room.

Adirondack Park
3:30 pm

Mulder's head hurt. That was the first pain to hit him. Then, as
he slowly became more awake, the pain in his right leg, just below
the knee, hit. It was that sickening, searing kind of pain he had
come to associate with a broken bone. He could sense a weight on
his left side, pinning him to the ground. Most frightening, though,
was the fact that he felt nothing on his left leg past his hip.
Nothing. Not even the weight.

<I gotta open my eyes,> he commanded himself. It took some
effort. The sun was lower in the sky and the leaves in the tree
above him caused the light to shift and blind him every so often. He
forced his eyes open and looked around.

Five pairs of eyes were staring at him.

"Hey, the alien's waking up," a sandy haired boy, approximately
11 years old said anxiously to the other boys. They were all
clustered around Mulder, looking nervously at him.

Mulder's head was pounding by this point and he was not in his
best form. He muttered something, something about not being an
alien, or even a leprechaun, then asked the boys for help.

He was rewarded with the barrel of his gun pointing directly in
his face. A pimply faced kid with a bad imitation of a flat top hair
cut and dirty overalls stared down the site. His glasses reflected the
late afternoon sun, so Mulder couldn't really see his eyes, but his
stance was not comforting. If anything, it was combative.

"How'd we know your *not* an alien?" the kid growled.

Mulder took a deep breath and tried to calm his racing heart.
This kid held a gun like he'd done it before--many times before. It
was well within the realm of possibility that this kid would pull the
trigger and let the coroner figure out the answer to his question.

"I'm one of the good guys!" Mulder exclaimed. "Now, put the
gun down, before someone gets hurt." <Like me,> Mulder added
to himself. Something glinted off the kid's glasses then and Mulder
looked over in that direction.

There, in a clearing that it had made on it's descent, was the
alien craft. <Ohmigod,> Mulder thought. <That's it!>

"Look, whoever you are," Mulder spoke rapidly. "I've been
hunting for, . . . for that *thing* over there for a long time. Now,
we have to get word to the people in town. My partner, and the
Sheriff. We have to get them out here to see this. Guys, listen to
me. You'll all be heroes--really."

The kid who had been kneeling beside him looked up at the
pimply faced kid. "What if he's telling the truth, Timmy?" he asked.

"What if he's _not_?" Timmy reasoned coldly. "C'mon guys!
You watch TV. These alien dudes are *shape shifters*! Sure, he
looks like a normal guy. But face it, that's what they would *want*
us to believe."

The first kid was shaking his head. "Nah, I don't think so. If he
was a shape shifter, he could have gotten out from under that limb.
OK, let's vote. How many believe the alien?"

Mulder was not entirely happy with his new title, but was
pleased to see the four hands that raised slowly. Only Timmy failed
to raise his hand, but even he seemed to accept the decision of the
majority.

"All right, all right," Timmy voice was filled with disgusted
resignation. "Not much we can do, anyway. The rope broke and
the limb's too big to move. Joey, me 'n you'll go in to town and get
help. Everybody else, stay here and watch the alien." He started
off and then turned for a second. "If he moves, hit him with a rock.
Not even an alien can live with his brains bashed out." The two
boys headed off down the trail.

"Timmy! The gun," Mulder remembered. "Hey, guys, you can
leave it on the ground here. I'm afraid one of you might get hurt.
That thing is loaded."

"That's OK," replied Timmy. "I've been around guns before.
'Sides, even if you're telling the truth and you're not an alien, doesn't
mean there ain't one out *there*."

Walken County Sheriff's Department
3:45 pm

Dana Scully stormed into the Sheriff's private office, fit to be
tied. She was still wearing the majority of her hazmat suit, only
having ripped off the head gear on the way over from the morgue.

"You want to tell me exactly what's going on here, Sheriff?" she
hissed.

"I did what you asked, Agent Scully," the man crooned. "I
called in the *calvary*. You are off this case. I got my authority
directly from the Air Force." He smiled with satisfaction. "No one
touches that body. Oh, and they mentioned specifically you and
your partner. Guess you're famous." His laugh was cruel.

"Does that mean the search for Agent Mulder has been called
off," Scully surmised. It was taking everything in her power not to
grab the gun the Sheriff was cleaning and shove it down his throat.

"'Fraid it does."

Scully's stomach jumped to her throat. She had to calm down,
she had to deal with this 'ape' rationally. "Listen to me. We have to
keep searching. That man in the morgue was exposed to high
levels of radiation. You've seen what it did. My partner may be
out there in the woods *dying*!"

"Look, Agent Scully. The Air Force said they'd have a search
team out here in a couple of hours. I'm sure they will do whatever
they can for your partner. Now, I suggest you go get a cup of
coffee and relax."

Adirondack Park
4:00

Joey and Timmy were making good time on the trail. They both
had spend many summers exploring the woods near their homes.
Both boys were feeling playful, now that they had a mission.
Naturally, the game turned out to be 'cops and robbers.'

"I'm the Sheriff and you're my prisoner," Timmy said, giving
Joey a vicious shove in the back. "I'm taking you to jail!"

"Hey! Quit pushing," Joey shouted.

"Shuddup, prisoner!" Timmy ordered and shoved Joey hard
enough to cause the smaller boy to fall down. Joey hit the ground
with a rush of breath being knocked from his lungs.

"Timmy! What's the matter with you?" Joey asked frantically.
"Your face is all red!"

"I said QUIET!" Timmy screamed.

Joey was starting to feel fear coursing through his body.
"Awright, Timmy. Now you're in trouble. That guy back there is
no *alien*. He's from the FBI. When we get to town I'm gonna
tell everybody that it was _your_ idea to set that trap."

"We saw that flyin' saucer *first*!" Timmy growled. "It's ours!"

"You're crazy, Timmy," Joey said fearfully.

"Yeah, but I kinda like it," came the reply.

End 1 of 2

*****
Vickie
Stand up for what you think is right,
Even if you stand alone.
--a poster

From vmoseley@fgi.net Wed May 07 18:57:25 1997
Subject: SUBM: Falling (2/2)
From: Vickie Moseley <vmoseley@fgi.net>
--------
Falling
Retold by Vickie Moseley
SXA, Rated PG
Disclaimed in part one

Part two of two

By the UFO
4:00 pm

Mulder had passed out after Joey and Timmy left, but was
coming around again. "Guys," he called weakly. "Guys, come
here."

The three remaining boys looked first at each other, and then at
the fallen agent. "Yeah," said a dark haired boy with a runny nose.
"Whaddya want?"

Mulder had taken the time to look at his hands. He reached up
and cautiously touched a sore spot on his face, discovering in the
process that his skin was covered with angry welts that were
forming blisters. His hand came away wet. His heart dropped to
his stomach. He knew all too well what he was dealing with now.

"Boys. Look at me," he commanded. The three gathered
around him slowly and he could tell by their shocked expressions
that his tactile examination was accurate. "These welts on my face.
They're symptoms of radiation poisoning. I've got radiation
sickness, boys. I'm dying," he said trying to keep the fear and
desperation out of his voice. <God, Scully, where are you?!?> His
attention turned back to the three terrified faces in front of him.
"You have to get out of here."

A freckle faced boy with a missing front tooth leaned over and
stared at Mulder for several seconds. "Aw, that looks like poison
ivy to me," he declared with a snort.

The air was split with the sound of gunshots.

"What was *that*?" cried the expert on poison ivy.

There was the sound of running footsteps and Timmy shot out
of the brush. "Joey! Joey! Ohmigod!" he gasped, out of breath.

Mulder closed his eyes. The gun was still smoking. He could
smell the powder. "Calm down, Timmy," he said weakly. "Tell me
what happened."

Timmy took a deep breath. He looked around, ensuring the
attention of all the boys. "It was *eight feet tall*! It had a huge
mouth and green skin! It came out of the woods. It grabbed Joey!
I think I shot it," he heaved the last words out with a shudder.

Mulder was beginning to feel sick. Nausea crashed over him in
waves and he was using every ounce of strength to stay awake.
"That doesn't sound right . . ." he said, feebly shaking his head.

There was a moaning from the forest in the direction that
Timmy had come from.

"There it is! Get it! Kill it!" Timmy screamed. All the boys
turned in that direction.

"No . . . wait . . . don't . . . " Mulder gasped.

The boys looked back at him, hesitant to venture into the forest.

"Are you crazy!?" Timmy screamed, regaining their attention.
"That thing killed Joey! An' now, it's gonna kill US!" He stormed
off into the trees, waving his gun. "Kill it! Kill it!" he chanted like
an evil mantra.

The three boys glanced furtively at each other and the freckle
faced boy shrugged. Picking up sticks from the forest floor, they
followed Timmy into the trees.

For several minutes, Mulder was alone in the forest. He looked
over at the craft, not more than thirty feet from where he lay.
There was a breach in the hull, and inside he could see a faint blue
green glow.

He closed his eyes. His stomach rose up and this time, he didn't
have the strength to fight the involuntary reflex. He was disgusted
at himself for throwing up, and he was pinned so effectively that he
couldn't even turn to the side. From somewhere in the 'warehouse'
that was his memory, an article popped into his head. He'd seen it
not long after his encounter with the 'Flukeman', Scully's pet name
for the being that roamed the sewers of Newark, New Jersey.

The article detailed the effects of radiation exposure that had
been studied following the meltdown at Chernobyl, USSR. It had
gone into sufficient detail that he was all too aware of his current
condition.

Radiation poisoning of the highest level would have resulted in
his death long before now, he knew. But that did not mean that he
wasn't suffering from the second level of exposure. His
disorientation, the nausea were symptoms. In addition, sickness
included difficulty in breathing, and he was experiencing that as
well. His nasal passages felt dry, painfully so. Another symptom.

"Might as well be textbook about it," he muttered aloud to no
one in particular. He knew that if he lost consciousness, he would
lapse into a coma. If found soon enough, and attended to by
someone who knew what they were dealing with, there was a slim
chance he would survive. <Scully, I hope you read that article I
told you about,> he prayed. Then he closed his eyes and all sounds
faded out of his range of hearing.

Sheriff's Office

"Look, Agent Scully, I can see you're upset," the Sheriff
crooned with a disgusting smile. "But you might as well just have
a seat . . ."

A deputy stuck his head into the office, "Sheriff, the wife's on
the line. Line 4."

The Sheriff's brow furrowed for a minute and he started to pick
up the phone. Scully put her hand out, covering his.

"The extent of the damage indicates that Goldfax had
*prolonged* contact with the source of the radiation. The crash
must have occurred near his cabin." She let loose of her
professional control for a moment at the thought of her partner,
injured and helpless out in the forest. "You *know* where that is,
don't you," she growled angrily, eyes flashing.

"Maybe. But it's out of my hands," he said flippantly. "Now, if
you don't mind . . ." He ripped his hand from her grasp. "Yeah,
hon," he said into the phone, "we got a little situation. I want you
and Timmy . . . " He was silent for a moment. "What!? . . . He was
playing *where*?!" All color drained from his face. "Agent Scully.
Don't leave just yet."

Adirondack State Park

A few minutes later, the boys returned, covered in blood. For
the most part, they hadn't even gotten a good look at what they had
just beaten to death. But it was dead, that was all that was
important. Timmy was feeling particularly triumphant. "It's dead!
We did it! It's DEAD!"

"What about Agent Mulder?" asked the freckled faced boy. "Is
*he* dead?"

Timmy leaned over the prone man. "Nah. Still breathing.
Looks like he puked all over himself, though." The boys wrinkled
their noses in disgust. Timmy looked around at the others. "It's
not safe here. We gotta go get help."

"What about *him*?" asked a boy in a baseball cap.

"He's almost dead already," Timmy sighed, with feigned
concern. "Come on. We can send someone back for him." He
turned and started walking. "If we don't run into any more aliens,
that is." The boys followed, not noticing the insane glint that had
come to Timmy's eyes.

The boys voices came to Mulder in a fog of sickness and pain.
Slowly, he opened his eyes to see their retreating forms fading into
the trees. He wanted to call out to them, warn them what he
thought he had seen earlier in Timmy's eyes, but he was too weak
to move, much less call out.

<I always wanted to see one of these things up close and
personal, but this isn't exactly what I had in mind,> Mulder thought
as he allowed his gaze to fall on the craft not more than thirty feet
from where he lay. <I can hear Scully now, still telling me that I
have no proof.>

<And she'd be right. My vision is blurred. I'm barely conscious.
I still don't know for certain what it is.> As he watched the craft,
he almost thought he saw a form moving inside it. <Shadows of
light and shifting grays,> he mused. <Are you some bit of science
fiction fallen from the heavens?> he asked silently of the craft. <Or
some hot shot pilot who'll never see his wife and kids again?>

<It's so easy to be wrong and so important to be right,> he
pondered even as consciousness deserted him. <Especially when
you're afraid. Especially when you're human.>

He drifted for a few minutes on seas of his unconscious mind's
making. Then he was startled back to reality by the explosion of
gunfire somewhere not far from him. <The aliens are coming,> he
moaned inwardly. <The aliens are here.>

He could only open his eyes to bare slits, but he could still make
out Timmy's husky form coming at him from the forest. "No more
aliens?" Mulder groaned, just a weak whisper.

"Not any more," Timmy replied and brought the gun up in a two
handed stance, resting the barrel against Mulder's temple. Mulder
closed his eyes, almost welcoming the shattering pain that he
expected within the next second.

All he got was a loud click. The chamber was empty.

Timmy had used the clip killing the other boys. He was covered
with their blood. He tried the trigger again and shrugged at the
resounding click it made.

"Guess I'll hafta use a rock," he said lightly.

Mulder groaned in pain, but Timmy ignored the agent and went
searching around the forest floor for rock capable of bashing the
man's brains out. "Here's one!" Timmy said happily, hefting the
rock in both hands to ensure it's weight.

"You killed them all, didn't you?" Mulder couldn't help himself.
He had to know.

"Yep," Timmy answered, gleefully raising the rock over his head
so that it would smash into Mulder's temple.

"Why?" Mulder asked. He was beyond hoping for a reprieve
from death this time, he only wanted his question answered before
the blackness came.

Timmy was quick to comply. "I don't know. Guess I never
liked any of them," he answered. He hadn't noticed the sound of a
jeep barreling down the trail.

"Timmy!" The shout was a greeting and a command at once.

Timmy stopped in his movements and looked startled. "Dad?"

Timmy was still standing with the rock raised over the prone
agent. "What the *hell* are you doing?!" his father, the Sheriff,
demanded. The Sheriff and Scully were in the jeep, wearing full
hazmat gear. "Get in the jeep! NOW!" the Sheriff ordered,
shoving the boy angrily into the back seat. Then he hurriedly
moved over to stand next to Scully, who was crouched next to
Mulder.

"Scully . . . " Mulder moaned. "The alien ship."

His partner was busy giving him a cursory examination.
"Maybe," she said quietly. "Depends on who you ask. The Air
Force is claiming that it's a downed experimental plane." She and
the Sheriff worked to move the tree limb off Mulder. He gasp as
the pain flooded the left side of his body. "And right now, Mulder,
I really don't care," she added, purposefully ignoring the craft all
together as she and the Sheriff carried Mulder to the jeep.

Childwood Memorial Hospital
6:00 pm

The small hospital staff had all but run screaming at the thought
of caring for Mulder. They had no experience in radiation sickness
and were not in a position to deal with it so immediately. The Air
Force team had arrived about the same time that Scully and the
Sheriff had pulled into the ER. Scully hadn't bothered to wait for
the nurses, she grabbed the first gurney she saw and hastily shouted
at the Sheriff to help her get Mulder on it.

Thinking back to the only medical article she had ever seen on
Chernobyl, Scully ordered oxygen and an IV with fluids and blood
constitutes. Once she had the line started, she added antibiotics.
The burns on his skin appeared to be minor, but other factors where
causing complications.

The limb had glanced off his head, causing a concussion, but it
had landed it's full weight on his hip. The hip bone was fractured
and need to be immobilized. Plus, in the fall, he had twisted his
right leg and wrenched his knee viciously. Although the bone was
intact, the knee was dislocated and there had been damage to the
cartilage and the ligaments. Scully knew both the hip and the knee
would require surgery, but that was taking a back seat to stabilizing
the radiation sickness at that point.

It was pretty obvious that he had vomited. His nasal passages
appeared dry and he was having trouble getting a full breath. These
things were all symptoms of radiation poisoning, but something else
itched at the back of Scully's mind.

It was just possible that they were symptoms of something else.
The concussion could easily induce vomiting. Mulder was tramping
out in the woods, in the early fall, and Scully remembered seeing
him take an allergy capsule just before he headed off to the park,
which would dry him up pretty effectively. The limb had bruised
and cracked a couple of ribs on his left side, which could have
contributed to his breathing difficulties. He was badly injured from
the limb and was in shock, which tended to complicate everything
else. But there wasn't time to make a mistake. She decided to
error on the side of radiation poisoning, knowing that none of the
procedures required would harm him if she was over reacting on
this one.

"Agent Scully," she heard her name being called as she checked
over Mulder's vitals one more time. His pressure, which had been
low due to shock, was starting to come back to normal, but his
temperature was still over 101.

Scully, sighed, knowing there wasn't much more she could do
out in the middle of the sticks. "Yes," she answered tiredly. "I'm
Agent Scully."

A tall figure in hazmat gear stuck out his hand in greeting. "I'm
Major Harrington, USAMRID. They called me on this as soon as
the reports of a, ah, 'downed craft' came in. What have we got
here?"

Scully turned her attention to Mulder again. "Special Agent Fox
Mulder. He was searching the woods when he got caught in an
'alien trap' that some of the local kids had made. We found him just
a dozen yards from the 'craft', as you say. He appears to be
suffering from radiation exposure. In addition to that, he's got a
couple of bad fractures and a concussion. We need to get him
somewhere that can deal with this stuff," she glanced around her
briefly. "And this ain't it," she added with disgust.

Scully just caught the gleam of a smile on the Major's lips. "Not
to worry, Agent Scully. I've got a chopper en route. We can take
him to Bethesda Naval. It's closest to home and they can handle
radiation exposure as well, if not better than anyone. Gets sort of
dicey on those nuke subs, sometimes," he added, while taking in the
monitor displays next to Mulder's gurney. "He seems stable for the
time being. I see you've got the jump on procedure. That should
help a lot once we get him down home." He gave Scully a curious
look. "Run into this before?" he asked.

Scully smiled cryptically. "We run into a lot of strange stuff in
our line of work. I've read an article on the aftermath of Chernobyl
just recently. That helped tremendously."

"I didn't know we had medical doctors in the FBI. I thought
they all worked for Food and Drug or CDC," Harrington said,
fishing for an explanation.

"I'm a forensic pathologist," Scully answered. "But I've had to
bone up on my other talents since becoming Agent Mulder's
partner," she added ruefully.

"Well, let's hope he doesn't need your 'chosen profession' for a
while, yet," Harrington replied and moved off to find out how soon
the chopper would arrive.

Scully looked out the double doors of the Emergency Room and
sighed in relief. The pounding she had heard alerted her to the
arrival of the medivac chopper, but seeing was believing. She let
her hand caress her partner's forehead gently, one more time. Even
through the hazmat gloves, she could tell he was running a fever.

Bethesda Naval Medical Center
12:02 am

Scully sat on a stool in the lab watching the doctors and
technicians around her. Mulder was in quarantine, just one level
below. He'd had his hip bone set and his knee stabilized. Now all
that was left was to determine the rest of his treatment.

"Just as I figured," muttered a tall, thin doctor in his early 50's,
looking through a microscope. "Agent Scully, come here. You
ought to see this."

Scully moved over to the table and brushed her hair from her
face so she could look through the eyepiece. She held her breath
and closed her eyes for a while, stealing herself before looking at
the sample. Finally, she chanced a look, still holding her breath.
After a moment, she sighed in relief. "They appear perfectly
healthy," she exclaimed happily. "But I don't get it. Mulder was
found just a few feet from the craft. He'd been there all afternoon.
Given Goldfax's exposure, and the blistering on Mulder's skin, I
assumed. . . "

"Well, a lot depends on the type of radiation that each man was
exposed to," the doctor replied. "There's a hell of a 'whollop' to
gamma radiation. Alpha radiation on the other hand, might affect
the skin, but not the blood cells. Not much could have stopped a
direct hit of gamma that close, but your partner's clothes probably
gave him as much protection from alpha rays as a lead shield would
have. Looks like you're partner dodged the bullet on this one,
literally."

Scully wiped her eyes hurriedly and smiled at the man.
"Thanks," she said quietly and left the lab. The older man simply
nodded.

7:12 am

Mulder's head was splitting from a sound just out of range. It
was annoying and insistent and familiar and all he wanted to do was
pull out his gun and shoot it till it stopped. He knew how to
achieve this goal, but it required opening his eyes and he wasn't
quite sure how to go about that.

After a couple of minutes of considering his situation, he heard a
soft sigh, somewhere off to his left. It was Scully. He knew that
sigh anywhere. She usually reserved it for when she was sitting
next to him in a hospital, so he figured, whatever had happened, he
had probably survived it. Unless he was just in the 'process' of
dying . . .

He swallowed hard, not wanting to continue that line of
thought. But his throat was dry and raw and it hurt to swallow,
even if he could have done it properly. He had to open his eyes. If
he did, Scully would be there to give him a drink, make it feel
better, tell what was happening.

And turn down the sound on that damn heart monitor.

It took a couple of blinks, but finally, his eyelids caught and
stayed in the 'open' position. That accomplished, he tried to focus
on the blurr of reddish brown hair, just a few feet from his face.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," she taunted softly.

" . . . drink," he replied in a barely audible whisper. She smiled
at him and complied with his wish. Just a few sips were allowed,
but it was enough to moisten his parched throat. He smiled weakly.
"What's . . . the verdict?"

"Well, generally speaking, you broke your hip, messed up your
knee, have a concussion and three cracked ribs. When all is said
and done, Mulder, it was a typical day on the job--for you," she
added pointedly.

" . . . radiation?" he asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"I learned a lot about radiation today, much of it I used to know
and forgot. Basically, you were exposed to alpha radiation waves.
You'd get worse burns from the steam that escapes when you open
your microwave popcorn bag." She grinned slightly at his
befuddled expression.

" . . . the blisters?" he asked, raising his arm to show off the rash
that covered every inch of exposed flesh.

"I know, I know. But alpha waves are shorter and have less
damaging effects. You've got the equivalent of a bad sunburn,
Mulder. So count yourself 'lucky' and get some rest." She reached
down and pulled up a small shopping bag, handing it to him.

"The doctors say you're in here for a while, just to be sure, so I
brought you some reading material."

He reached into the bag and pulled out a paperback. "_Lord of
the Flies_, Scully? How appropo," he said dryly. "What happened
to Timmy? And did they find the other boys?"

"The Air Force team found the bodies. Timmy was admitted to
the state psychiatric hospital, to determine the extent of his
psychosis. He's been a troubled child for some time, according to
one of the nurses at the Childwood hospital, but his father's position
always shielded him. It's a shame, really. Those boys' deaths could
have been avoided if he'd gotten help earlier."

Mulder nodded sleepily. "Sometimes, Scully, not all the aliens
are 'out there'," he said. "Sometimes, they're right next to us and
we don't even suspect it." His eyes slid closed as he fell back asleep
and he didn't notice when she took the book from his grasp and
placed it on the bed tray.

The end 2 of 2.

If you liked it, thank Topps Comics. I just had to play with it a bit.
Vickie
Stand up for what you think is right,
Even if you stand alone.
--a poster