NEW: Burns
Date: Sat, 21 Feb 1998
From: Vickie Moseley <vmoseley@fgi.net>

*****

Summary: Post 'Kill Switch' story. Mulder is getting the burns on
his arms cared for, but is the case really over?
Category: S UST A
Rating: PG, (They were good this time)
Spoilers: Kill Switch--lots of references
Keywords: Mulder Torture
Disclaimer: Hey, you wrote this episode for me, didn't you Will. I
mean, you don't know me from Adam, but you could knew what I
wanted. And CC, who owns everything and knows everything, put
it on just for me. I'm so happy! So I wrote this as a tribute, not an
infringement. Thank you!
Archive: Please archive anywhere. I would love to see it on
Mulder Torture Anonymous and the Post Episode pages.
Newsgroup is fine, too. Just keep my name attached.
Comments: There are a bunch of you who asked for this. Let me
know if it's what you were hoping for. vmoseley@fgi.net
Thank yous to Susan, Mac, Kristina and Esther and everyone who
has encouraged me to keep writing these little fill in the blanks.

Burns
by Vickie Moseley

Rural Fairfax County, VA
11:35 pm

He scraped his back on the small access hole as Scully all but
shoved him through it. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he
knew that was going to hurt eventually. Hell, he knew his whole
body was going to hurt some time soon. But Scully was tugging on
him, pushing him out from under the trailer and Fox Mulder knew
better than to argue with a 'frantic Scully push'. He complied as
best as he could.

Why was it so hard to breathe? His chest felt like it was in a vice.
His head was pounding, especially the temples. His arms--he didn't
even want to think about his arms because the faint smell of singed
hair and seered flesh still hung about him like a cheap suit. The
night air was cold on his face and his whole body was reduced to a
shivering mass of involuntary muscle movements.

"Mulder, come on, help me here." Scully was begging. Her voice
was high pitched, and the tone reminded him of something he'd said
to her just recently. Something about keys--

"Mulder!" she shouted and tugged on his shoulder, even his partner
not daring to touch his forearms.

He groaned, but struggled to get up and moved forward.

They were running. It was awkward, because he was leaning
heavily on Scully. He didn't think he could stand by himself at that
point. Then the blast sounded behind him. His fuzzy mind tried to
reconcile the noise with a previous memory, but nothing was
working right. All he could see was the hospital room he'd been
held captive in, the way the room shifted and changed and the
objects within had become free art renditions of their original intent.
Even Scully.

Was this Scully, pulling him up again? He reached for her face,
hoping it would give him some clue. No, that wouldn't
work--Nurse Nancy's well endowed bosom had seemed extremely
real--right before she tried to smother him.

They made it the cars finally and Scully was yelling at him again.
"Come on Mulder--where are your keys?" He was pretty certain
this was really Scully, now, because all he could think of was how
much warmer he would be once they were in the car and had the
heater running. Gingerly, he started to pat down his pants pockets,
but his right forearm grazed the belt loop of his pants and the pain
almost dropped him to his knees.

Scully held him up, carefully reached into the same pocket he'd
been reaching for and retrieved the keys. "Sorry about that
Mulder--I wasn't thinking." She opened the door and helped him in
the front passenger seat, closing the door firmly. He was a little
warmer, but was still reduced to a quivering mass everytime his
body decided to react to the cold. A few seconds later, the driver's
door opened and Scully got in, adjusting the seat as she put the
keys in one handed. "I'll have the heater going in a minute,
Mulder," she said, her voice settling down now to a range that
conveyed her concern.

The first blast of air from the vents was colder than the air had been
ourside and Mulder couldn't hold back the moan that escaped him.
He tried to huddle closer to himself, but his arms kept brushing
cloth, or each other and the pain that invoked left him sick to his
stomach. His eyes were clenched so tightly shut that the feel of
Scully's coat draped over his shoulders, giving him a little more
warmth, scared him.

"Where's Esther?" he asked. He had a vague recollection that he'd
heard Esther's lilting 'You don't listen' directed at Scully as they
were scrambling out of the trailer.

"She's dead. She was still in the trailer when it blew," Scully said
evenly. Mulder just nodded, he'd process that later. "Mulder, I
need to look at your arms," Scully said, and he liked the sound of
the her voice, but didn't like the words or their intent.

"No," he croaked out, huddling farther into her coat.

"Mulder, please," she pleaded and he would have liked to agree,
but not to this request, not here, not now. He was too afraid of
what she would find.

"It's OK, Mulder. Fairfax Mercy Hospital is only about 8 miles
away. I'll call them and let them know we're coming."

That was worse! "No! No hospitals!" he yelled, surprising even
himself at the force of his voice. It was mighty, a force to be
reckoned with, and it took every ounce of strength right out of him.

A hand was on his cheek, turning his head toward her. "Mulder,
open your eyes and look at me," Scully asked softly. OK, he could
do that much. He opened his eyes and found that focusing required
energy he didn't think he had. Finally, he could see her somewhat
clearly.

"Mulder, you're hurt," she said, in that firm by tender voice she
used when she wasn't sure how rational he was or if he had a clue
as to how seriously he was injured. "Your arms," he saw her
swallow back her own revulsion and start again, this time more
detached than before. "Your arms need medical attention. Mulder,
you have been electrocuted. It's nothing to play around with. I let
you talk me out of taking you to the doctor once before and I
wasn't at all happy with the consequences." His thought processes
were working just enough to remember a standoff at his parent's
summer house in Rhode Island. "Now, I will be there the entire
time, you know I won't leave you. But we have to get you to the
hospital now. Do you understand?"

He lowered his eyes, he was so very tired all of a sudden. He
nodded, and leaned back, trying not to think of the pain in his arms.

Mulder was being wheeled down a long hallway. Doctors and
nurses surrounding him, talking about him, but never to him. He
looked up and saw what he thought was a sympathetic face. ". . .
my arms hurt," he heard his voice say--or maybe it was the voice in
his head.

The doctor looked over at the nurse with a meaningful glance, then
deemed to look down at him. "That's a good sign," he said, but
somehow, Mulder doubted the sincerity of his words.

Fairfax Mercy Hosptial,
Emergency
12:03 am

"Mulder, Mulder wake up. We're here." Scully's voice, breaking
through the dream, woke him up. His eyes flew open and he could
see the double glass doors of the emergency room entrance. A
young man, dressed in sea green scrubs, was holding a wheelchair
next to the open door of the car. Scully was crouched between the
door and the car, her hand protectively on his knee. "Come on,
G-man. Let's take another ride," she said with a sad smile.

He looked over to the double doors. Already he could smell the
'hospital smells' and they were causing a vicious churning in his
stomach. He couldn't go through this--

"No," he said, and started creeping backward, toward the driver's
seat. "No!" he said again, more forcefully this time, or so he
hoped. He kept pushing backward, his feet doing all the work,
shoving off the dashboard, then the seat itself as he propelled
himself backward. Until his left arm hit the steering wheel and stars
exploded before his eyes even before the pain registered in his
brain. As the stars left his eyes, so did the light.

He could hear sounds around him. He'd been in enough emergency
rooms to know those sounds, and right now, that was not a
reassurance. He decided that keeping his eyes closed might be the
better option this time. He reached out his left hand, calling for
Scully as he did so. He hand didn't get very far.

"Hold him!" suddenly, several hands tightened around his hand and
his upper arm. "Keep him steady!"

It was too much like the visions from the trailer. His mind was still
trying to process how much of that had been real and how much
had been some cyber reality. But at that moment, with his arm
firmly pressed against the bed, he didn't really care. He just wanted
out.

"SCULLY!" he screamed as loud as he could. When she didn't
respond immediately, he did it again. "SCULLY! HELP!"

"What's he screaming?" a male voice asked impatiently.

"There was woman with him. Could be his wife. Maybe that's
who--" a female voice supplied.

"Get her," the first voice said gruffly. "Sir, Mr. Mulder. We're
getting your wife. She'll be right here. Just relax, we're trying to
bandage the burns on your arms." To someone else, he heard the
voice say "Start an IV."

Mulder still refused to open his eyes, and kept calling out for his
partner. There was some movement in the hands holding his right
hand down. Something cold brushed against his skin, sending new
shivers down his back. "Mr. Mulder, I'm just starting an IV. It's
real easy to get dehydrated when you've had a severe burn. We
don't want that, do we?"

That was the _wrong_ thing to say. The syrupy texture of Nurse
Nancy's voice slammed into his thoughts like a steamroller. Just as
he felt the pin prick of the needle on his hand, he jerked it away
with all his might.

"Damn it! Hold him still!" the no longer singsongy voice
countered.

"What's going on?" Scully's voice. Thank god for Scully's voice.
It cut through the panic, cut through the pain. He relaxed a little.

"Scully, help me," he moaned and turned his head toward her voice,
put still refused to open his eyes.

He knew it was her hand on his face. He'd memorized that feeling
long ago, on a freezing dock in North Carolina. He could smell her
perfume and it was a welcome respite from the smells of antiseptic
and his own charred flesh.

"Mulder," her voice called to him, soft and hypnotic. "Mulder, can
you open your eyes for me?"

How in the hell could he _not_ grant a request when it was spoken
in such a manner? He slowly forced his eyelids apart. She was
right next to his face, just inches from him. She looked worried and
scared and . . . sad?

Then, when their eyes met, she broke into a crooked smile. "Hey,"
she said softly.

"Scully, I don't want to be here," he said in a rush, before he ran
out of air. Somewhere, a vise was squeezing his chest again.
"Where were you?"

Her forehead creased in a frown. "I had to sign the admitting
paperwork, Mulder. They've decided that you need to stay a
while," she said, talking in that soft voice. The same voice she'd
used so recently talking to a three year old little girl. But he wasn't
Emily and he didn't want to stay in the hospital. Not after what had
been done to him.

"No," he said firmly, shaking his head and trying to get off the
gurney. She held him down, it didn't take much effort on her part.

"Mulder, listen to me. Remember what I said in the car? I won't
leave you. I'll be with you the whole time. Now, the burns on your
arms are serious, but they're taking care of them. The doctor is
more concerned about the way you panicked and then lost
consciousness when we got here. He thinks there might have been
some neurological damage from the shock you received. And
frankly, you're heart is still going a mile a minute. They want to
take you upstairs and monitor your condition. Also, that way, they
can give you antibiotics in your IV. That would stop any infection
before it could start."

"Don't let them take my arms, Scully," he pleaded frantically.
"Don't let them take my arms!"

She stared at him a moment, then chewed on her lip. "Mulder, who
said anything about taking your arms?" she asked, then looked
around at the medical staff, still gathered around, but not moving.
Several heads shook back and forth, denying any knowledge.

"They took my arms, Scully! They took my arms," he repeated the
words he told her in that _other_ hosptial.

Finally, she seemed to understand. "Mulder. Whatever you saw,
whatever you _think_ you saw while you were hooked up to that
computer--it wasn't real. That was just an hallucination. It was a
dream--"

"It's wasn't a dream, Scully! It's was real! My arms hurt! They
took them because I wouldn't tell where the kill switch was," he
cried, hating the tears that were starting to form in his eyes and the
catch in his voice. "I could smell that smell--I could smell the
burns," he said tiredly, clenching his eyes shut to hold back the
tears. Even as he did so, one escaped it's bonds and careened
down his cheek to the pillow beneath his head.

"Mulder. Please, listen to me. It was a dream, but you were
incorporating the reality. You were electrocuted. The contact
points, where the current entered and then left your body, were
burned. You have third degree burns on a four inch circle around
each arm. Those were the contact points. But there is nothing to
indicate the need for amputation. You're here in the hospital, they
can keep the area sterile. They are going to administer strong
antibiotics as soon as you let them start an IV. The only time there
is a need to amputate is when infection becomes so severe that the
entire body is threatened and that is _not_ going to happen. I will
make absolutely certain that _doesn't_ happen."

He couldn't see her face, but he knew that tone of voice very well.
Scully would hold them off with assault weapons before she'd let
them saw off his arms. Slowly he opened his eyes. "You promise,"
he said. He wasn't questioning her commitment, just restating it for
the assembled masses.

"I promise," she repeated. "Now, will you let _me_ start the IV?"

He wanted more than anything to give her a snappy comeback,
something along the lines of he wasn't dead yet, but there was still
enough of a grip of fear on his heart that he couldn't do that.
Instead, he just nodded and watched as she turned to the doctor.

"I'm a medical doctor. My credentials are in my wallet, out in
admitting office. I'm a pathologist, but I end up moonlighting," she
said and Mulder didn't miss the fast glance she gave him and the
wry smile that came to her lips. "Do you mind?"

The doctor looked rather put upon, but finally nodded in
agreement. Scully took a new IV package from the tray and
opened it, rubbed his hand with an alcohol wipe and searched for a
vein. "Squeeze for me, Mulder," she asked him. She might as well
have asked him to pass the salt, from the tone of her voice. He did
as she asked, but it pulled burned skin and muscle and he let out a
strangled cry. "Better give him something for the pain," Scully
warned the doctor. There was only a slightly implied threat as to
what would happen if they _didn't_ give her partner something to
relieve his agony.

Once the IV was in, Scully moved back a little, but didn't leave his
side. It was clear that the medical personnel would just have to
work around her, because she wasn't going to leave. She stroked
his hair as they continued to work, loosely bandaging both arms in
sterile gauze and then attaching monitor leads to his chest. He
watched them suspiciously all the while, but after about five
minutes, the pain killers kicked in fully and as the pain receded his
eyes drooped closed again.

Off in a corner, where neither partner could see, nor anyone
noticed, a nurse hastily typed in the orders the doctor had given her
for this patient. The computer seemed all too willing to accept the
information.

end of part one

Burns (2/3)
by Vickie Moseley
vmoseley@fgi.net
Disclaimer in part one

Fairfax Mercy Hospital
12:05 pm

It was light outside when he woke up again. His mouth was dry as
a bone, his throat ached from the hour he'd spent yelling for Scully,
for anybody to release him from the trailer. His arms felt numb, for
the most part, but just under the surface, there lingered a
mindbending pain that he knew was just waiting for the drugs to
recede before it jumped out and crippled him. And Scully wasn't in
the room. But Assistant Director Skinner was.

"Good morning, Agent Mulder. Sleep well?"

For a moment, Mulder was certain he was experiencing another
flashback from the trailer, but he couldn't remember Skinner being
there to torture him before. Of course, that didn't mean it
_couldn't_ happen . . .

Mulder blinked his eyes and decided there was only one way to
determine if this was real or virtual. He looked over at the bedside
table and saw the pitcher of water and a stryofoam cup. He nodded
toward the water.

"Are you sure it's OK for you to have some?" Skinner asked. It
was one of the only times Mulder could remember seeing his tough
as nails, no nonsense boss looking timid.

Mulder nodded, encouraging him on. Skinner shrugged and poured
a full glass, then unwrapped a straw and put it in the water. He
started to hand the glass to Mulder, then realized the agent wasn't
able to lift his arms. The AD looked a little embarrassed, but held
the straw up to Mulder's lips so the younger man could drink his
fill.

No, this was not virtual reality. He could remember distinctly that
he had never been given anything to eat or drink while in that hell
of computer generated hallucinations. Looking back on it, he
hadn't had anything to eat in quite some time, either. But after the
drink, at least he could swallow. And talk.

"Where's Scully?" he croaked, and then realized how that sounded.
He probably should have cared what impression that would leave
on his superior, but right then, he didn't.

"She stepped down the hall to talk to the doctor. There was some
question of the medicine you're receiving. How are you feeling?"

"I'm not going to be changing any light bulbs soon," Mulder
deadpanned.

"You're lucky to be alive, from what I've heard," Skinner retorted.
"I expect Agent Scully will be handing in the report on this one."

Mulder shrugged. Again, he didn't have the energy to care who
turned in the report.

"Mulder, from what she told me--it all seems, I mean, even for
_you_--"

"Makes you think twice about 'surfing the net', doesn't it, sir?"
Mulder said with a sad smile.

"There are several deaths to explain, including two federal
marshalls and three civilians not connected to criminal elements,"
Skinner said pointedly.

"We don't know that David Markham and Esther Narin are in fact
dead, sir. They could have--" He stopped. It was hard for even
Mulder to admit that they could have uploaded their consciousness
onto the internet.

"Well, I think most insurance agencies would consider them
deceased, Agent Mulder. As will the FBI. But I didn't come here
to discuss that. I just wanted to see how you were faring and tell
you to take all the time you need to recover." He lapsed into
silence that was beginning to be uncomfortable.

Mulder was about to tell him that he didn't have to stay when
Scully returned. "Sorry that took so long," she apologized to
Skinner then turned to her partner. "So, you _do_ wake up," she
teased.

Skinner vacated the chair next to the bed. "Well, I'd better be
getting back to the office," he said to his agents. "Hope you're
feeling better soon, Mulder," he said sincerely.

"Thanks for stopping by," Mulder said with a self conscious half
smile.

"Not a problem. Agent Scully, I'll be expecting that call later,"
Skinner reminded her and left.

"What call?" Mulder asked.

"He wants to know if we think this is over. If there are any more
deaths on the horizon." Scully said, sitting down in the chair.

"I don't foresee any. The AI was trying to protect itself. If David
and Esther are gone, and it killed Donald, then who else could it go
after?" Mulder asked, closing his eyes.

"The pain bad?" Scully asked with tender concern.

"It wasn't. Now it's getting bad," he admitted. "What's wrong
with my medicine?"

"It's been causing your blood pressure to rise," Scully said, and he
knew she was about to launch into her 'doctor mode'. "I'm still
confused as to why the ER doctor prescribed that particular drug.
It's not a common pain killer and you've never had it before. It's
known to have this complication and with your family history--"

"Scully, did you come up with an alternative?" Mulder interrupted,
and tried not to squirm too much, but the pain was starting to get a
grip.

"Oh, yes. I'm sorry, Mulder. Here, I'll call the nurse." She pushed
the call button and informed the nurse at the desk that Mulder was
awake and ready for his shot. He grimaced and she pointed to the
IV line, then smiled as he visibly relaxed.

"When can I get out of here?" he asked, and it was her turn to
grimace.

"Mulder," she said, and he knew he wasn't going to like what she
had to say just by the tone of her voice. "You were brought in for
observation. But with the blood pressure problem--"

"That's just the medicine, Scully. You said so yourself," he pointed
out.

"Yes," she agreed with that turn of her head that drove him
absolutely up the wall. It was her way of saying 'but'. "Mulder,
we have to consider your family history. Your mother's stroke last
year--"

"How long am I stuck here?" he grumbled. A male nurse came in
with the syringe and got an undeserved glare for his intrusion.

Scully waited until the medicine had been injected in the IV and
Mulder's vitals checked. The nurse left, closing the door behind
him.

"You're here for another 24 hours--after your BP has lowered," she
said, and matched his glare. "Mulder, I'm not going to argue with
you about this. I promised you I'd stay and that means I'm
stranded here for another day, too. You'll have a hard time doing
much with those arms for the next week probably, so you're better
off here than in my apartment."

"Who said anything about your apartment, Scully? I want to go
home," he growled.

"You can't get those bandages wet, and you can't over-exert
yourself. The skin is very fragile and infection could be a serious
set back. Don't make me get out my gun, Mulder," she said
evenly, and he was pretty certain she was at least _half_ joking.

"I'm starved," he said, deciding a change of subject was in order.

"You're in luck. I saw the lunch cart at the end of the hall. You
should be getting something pretty quickly."

"Oh, joy," he replied sarcastically. "Scully, sneak out and grab me
a Big Mac?" he pleaded.

She leveled him with a look. "See what's on the tray, Mulder, then
we'll talk. And no Big Macs. You want your blood pressure
_down_, not soaring from the sodium in one of those things. If it's
too much for you to choke down the hospital's idea of 'haute
cuisine', I'll see if we can't get you a Subway later."

The same male nurse came in with the large dinner tray, and
positioned it on the bedside table. "Do you need a hand with that?"
he asked Mulder, but Scully quickly assured him that she would be
assisting.

"I want to make sure it gets in you," she told Mulder in no
uncertain terms. She raised the tray cover and surveyed the
contents, then quickly covered it up again. Mulder noted the
disgusted look on her face and smiled broadly.

"How far is the nearest Subway?" Mulder asked calmly.

"Not far and I'll run a few red lights," Scully assured him and was
out the door before he could tell her to be careful.

Mulder didn't bother to try and lift the cover of the tray--one
glimpse had been enough. Somehow, someone had ordered a lunch
of baked cod, watery macaroni and cheese and cauliflower for him.
Not only was it totally unappetizing, but it was almost all one color.
Only a psychopath would order such a meal, he considered. He
closed his eyes and waited for his partner.

He didn't think he'd been asleep long when he woke up again. It
was so hot. The room was hot and he felt sick to his stomach.
Scully must have hit the wrong lights, because it had been quite
some time since she'd left and his stomach had stopped growling
and was now churning. Mulder figured it wouldn't do any good if
his partner did arrive with something edible, he couldn't face eating
anything. It was everything he could do not to throw up. He was
so groggy and the nausea wasn't going away. Finally, he inched his
right arm over and was able to push the nurse call button.

"Yes, Mr. Mulder, what can I do for you?" asked the voice from
the ceiling tiles.

"I'm really sick to my stomach. I think I need some antacid or
something," Mulder choked out.

"It's probably a reaction to the pain killer. I'll check with your
chart and see if the doctor left any standing orders and then I'll be
right in. You don't need to throw up right now, do you?"

"I don' know. Maybe," Mulder admitted and just the thought
caused bile to rise in his throat.

"Someone is on the way," said the voice.

The male nurse, who Mulder finally was able to identify as Jerry
from his name tag, was there in an instant, holding a small curved
bowl under Mulder's chin and supporting his back with the other
hand. Mulder heaved for several seconds, but nothing came up
apart from some bile which burned his throat. He leaned back,
exhausted.

"That's nasty," he moaned. A second nurse had entered carrying a
syringe. Jerry gave Mulder a few sips of water to rinse his mouth.
The second nurse injected the syringe into the IV port.

"This is Reglan. It's for nausea. Dr. Curtis left instructions that
you could have it if you had any problems. I'm going to call him
and let him know that you're having some side effects from _this_
pain medication as well. We'll get something that suits you, Mr.
Mulder. I promise." The second nurse, a young woman who
Mulder still couldn't name, left with a smile.

Jerry still stood by the bed side, holding the now cleaned curved
bowl.

"Are you going to need this again?" he asked kindly.

Mulder shook his head. "I hope not," he said, a little stronger. "I
don't understand what's happening," Mulder sighed, leaning back
into the pillows. "I've been on IV pain killers before and never had
this much trouble."

"Well, according to the chart, you received a pretty good electrical
shock. That can mess up your whole system. It might take a while
before things are back to normal. Until then, we just keep trying
until we find something that works," Jerry assured him. "You OK,
now?"

Mulder sat and thought about it before answering. "Yeah, I'm
feeling a little better. Thanks. You can leave if you want, I'll be
OK."

Jerry reached down and placed Mulder's hand closer to the call
button. "If you need me again, just push the button and yell, OK.
I'll be here on the double."

"Thanks, Jerry. I think I might just take a nap. My partner went
out to get me a sandwich and I think she got lost."

"Maybe she got abducted by aliens," Jerry joked, then regretted it
when the patient turned sheet white. "You gonna be sick again,
Mr. Mulder?" he asked anxiously

Mulder took a deep breath. "No, I'm fine. I just-- Never mind.
I'm fine, Jerry. Thanks." Mulder closed his eyes and tried very
hard to go to sleep.

When Scully arrived only 15 minutes later, Mulder was ready to
climb the walls. His heart was racing, he couldn't get enough air.
The walls of his room were jumping before his eyes, everything,
even the bed was distorted and frightening.

Scully noticed the change immediately, as the heart monitor was
beeping off the chart. Jerry was in the door a second later.

"Mulder, what's the matter?" Scully asked, putting the Subway bag
down on the chair. "I'm sorry it took me so long--the store was
farther than I--"

"Scully," Mulder called out, reaching for her painfully. "Make it
stop, please, god, make it stop!"

"What, Mulder? The pain?" she asked, taking his hand and gently
putting it back on the bed.

"No, the room! Stop the room from moving!" he demanded and
started to hyperventilate.

"Grab an O2 mask," Scully ordered.

"What setting?" Jerry asked, reaching over the patient's head to
grab the oxygen mask hanging from the wall console.

"No, just the mask," Scully told him. "Mulder, breathe in to this,"
she directed and held the mask over his nose. It had the same effect
as breathing into a paper bag.

It helped, a little. He stopped seeing black spots before his eyes.
But the room was still moving on him. "Scully, please, what's
happening to me?" he asked, breathlessly.

"How long has he been like this?" Scully interrogated Jerry.

"He was fine 20 minutes ago. He was going to take a nap," Jerry
replied defensively. "You should have called," he admonished
Mulder.

"It just started," Mulder said, closing his eyes and then opening
them quickly. "It's worse with my eyes closed."

"I'll get Dr. Curtis on the horn. Maybe he'll order a sedative--"
Jerry told Scully, but Mulder shook his head vehemently.

"NO MORE DRUGS!" he shouted. "Please, no more drugs," he
pleaded, calling on Scully with his eyes.

"If it is a drug interaction, we should monitor his condition for a
little while before we try anything else. It should stop of it's own,"
she advised Jerry. "I still want you to call Curtis. I want some
answers."

Jerry nodded and left the room.

Mulder tried blinking a few times. The room just kept jumping up
and down. His heart was still pounding in his chest. "Bet this is
doing wonders for my blood pressure," he joked weakly.

"Surprisingly enough, it's not affecting it. You're heart rate is over
110, but BP is looking pretty good. You're not having a stroke,
Mulder," Scully assured him gently.

"How about just a plain old heart attack?" he asked with a half grin,
but his eyes spoke of his terror.

"No, not even that. More like a chemically induced panic attack,"
she advised him. She pulled the chair over closer to the bed and sat
down. She reached through the bed rails and took his hand in hers.
"It's OK, Mulder. I'm sorry I left. I should know better by now,"
she teased. "Guess you don't want that sandwich, huh?"

"That's what started all this. My stomach was churning in on itself
and I was getting nauseous. I asked for some thing to settle my
stomach and they gave me a shot of Reglan--"

"Reglan? Mulder, you shouldn't be taking that! Not after the
shock you had. Curtis should have expected this sort of reaction,"
Scully said, her eyes darkening. "Wait till I have a talk with him,"
she growled.

"Scully, it's OK. Now that I know I'm just having a bad trip and
not a heart attack or stroke, I'm fine with this. It was scary, but no
harm done," Mulder said.

"You're calming down nicely," Scully said with a grin.

"I just didn't know what was happening," Mulder said, slightly
embarrassed, but a grin broke through on his face. "Now, it's sort
of fun. You look really weird, Scully. Kinda frantic. Not able to
sit still."

"Mulder, according to you, the whole _room_ isn't sitting still. But
I think it might be best if you tried to close your eyes and get some
sleep. When you wake up, we'll try the sandwich."

"What did you get me?" he asked, settling back into the pillow and
closing his eyes.

"Turkey breast on whole wheat. Lettuce, tomato, peppers--both
kinds, black olives, light mayo, light oil and vinegar and oregano.
Oh, and a white chocolate chip cookie for dessert."

"You spoil me, Scully," he sighed. In just a short time, he was
sleeping.

end of part two

Burns (3/3)
By Vickie Moseley
vmoseley@fgi.net
Disclaimer in part one

Fairfax Mercy Hospital
6:15 pm

His partner's voice woke him up. He could tell she was trying to
be quiet, but she was angry. Quiet and angry never managed to
coexist in the same sentence with Dana Scully.

"I don't know how it happened," Dr. Curtis was saying, sounding
like he was doing his best to remain calm.

"You mean to tell me that _just anyone_ can come in and make
changes on a medical chart here?" Scully demanded. She was using
her 'interrogator's voice'--the one that made even Mulder tremble
in fear.

"No, it's not like that. No one has access to those files. My nurse
typed the orders in herself. At no time did I leave an order for
Reglan. For that matter, I never suggested the first pain medication
he was on when he was brought up from ER. Something must have
gotten switched in the system," Curtis responded defensively.

"Well, then somebody better check the system," Scully stormed.
"This is not going to happen again," she added emphatically.

"I've already mentioned it to the hospital computer department.
They're checking it out. As you can well imagine, we consider this
a serious problem with the system. I've informed the nursing staff
that from now on, all orders for medication for Agent Mulder are to
be in my handwriting only. I assure you, this won't happen again."

Mulder secretly cheered Scully's tenaciousness on his behalf, but
decided to keep his eyes closed until Dr. Curtis was out of the
room. He knew she'd never talk about the mix up in his medication
if he was awake.

"I'm staying tonight, and at least until Agent Mulder is released. If
there are any changes in his medication, why don't you call _me_
first and then I can act as the safeguard against any further
problems," Scully said evenly. Mulder could just bet a steely glare
was being broadcast in addition to her icy tone of voice.

"That's perfectly agreeable," Curtis said and Mulder was certain he
heard the man swallow uncomfortably.

That's right, buddy--you better be scared of her, Mulder thought
giddily. She's one tough cookie and she's on _my_ side. He heard
the door click shut and the room grew silent.

"OK, Mulder, you can open your eyes. I know when you're
faking," Scully said, leaning in close to his ear. It tickled, but he
surpressed a shiver. He opened his eyes obediently and grinned at
her.

"Feeling better?" she asked, settling back down in her chair.

"Pretty much, yes," he agreed. "Where's that sandwich?"

She chuckled at the eagerness in his voice and picked up the plastic
bag from the table. "Right here. Do you want water, or would you
like to try for some soda. I can call Nancy--"

He flinched and jerked his head. "What happened to Jerry?" he
asked, hating the crack in his voice.

"He got off at 3. You've been asleep for 4 hours, Mulder. Here,
she needed to check your vitals anyway," Scully told him and
pressed the call button before Mulder could stop her.

"Nancy, could Agent Mulder have a can of soda? Sprite would
work," Scully spoke toward the ceiling.

"Coming right up, Dr. Scully," said a voice that Mulder tried hard
to remember. Was he back in the hallucinations again? He didn't
think he could stand much more of it if he was.

A few seconds later the door opened to reveal a woman in her mid
fifties, with grey hair and a pleasant smile. "Here's your Sprite, Mr.
Mulder. And let me check you temp while I'm here," she added,
sticking a plastic covered electronic thermometer in his mouth and
under his tongue. Mulder sighed, visibly relieved and ignored the
curious look Scully shot him.

"Well, you have a nice dinner," Nurse Nancy said cheefully and left
the two agents alone.

"Want to tell me what that was all about?" Scully demanded.

"Just another 'bad trip', Scully," Mulder assured her and moved his
hand toward the sandwich bag. He didn't get very far before it was
apparent that he would need considerable help.

"Here. I had a friend in college who broke both her arms roller
skating. We devised a way to eat sandwiches," Scully informed
him and took the knife and fork that she'd stolen off the lunch tray
and cut up the sandwich in bite sized pieces, then fed them one at a
time to her partner.

"What it lacks in style, it makes up for in more food consumed,"
she teased him as he chewed happily. When he'd finished the
sandwich and half the Sprite, she threw away the wrappers and
napkins. "Feel better?"

He nodded. "My hands feel numb," he told her.

"It's the medication. But the good news is, while you were asleep
your blood pressure hit your normal 120 over 80. Dr. Curtis says
that you can go home tomorrow night."

Mulder nodded again. Another night in the hospital. "Scully,
what's the deal with the meds?" he asked, keeping his expression
neutral.

"There was a mix up. A glitch in the system," Scully said casually.
"Nothing to worry about," she ended with a smile.

"A computer glitch?" Mulder asked, this time looking her directly
in the eye.

More than just a look passed between them. Scully understood
immediately what he was getting at, and rushed to head him off.
"Mulder, it's not like that. I know you went through a horrible
experience. But you can't let it make you afraid of every computer
you come across. Some of the things Esther said the AI was
capable of are simply impossible--the technology does not exist. In
order to tinker with your hospital chart, the AI would have to have
infected the hospital's whole computer system. How would it get
in?"

"The internet. One finance officer checking out stock quotes on the
internet and the whole system, completely networked for efficiency,
is on-line. That's when and how it got in," he said tiredly.

"Mulder, listen to yourself. You're telling me the artificial
intelligence that we still are not certain exists has targeted _you_ as
it's next victim? That's absurd! How could you know that?" she
demanded.

"Profiling criminal minds. That's my specialty, Scully. And this is a
criminal mind. Artificial, yes, but criminal, nonetheless." Mulder
leaned back, tired of the debate already. "I just want out of here as
soon as possible. Please."

Scully closed her eyes, her own tiredness showing. "Tomorrow,
barring any further complications. And if it will make you feel
better, I'll keep my laptop at the office while you're staying at my
place." She realized how tired he must be when he didn't bother to
argue with her on staying at her place. "Get some sleep, Mulder.
I'm staying right here, all night. I've checked your meds, and I will
double check them as the nurse brings them in. You're in good
hands tonight." She smiled at him and he returned it in kind.

"Thanks, Scully. I know I must sound ungrateful--"

"No, Mulder, not at all. I know I must sound insensitive, but right
now, we both just need some sleep. Tomorrow, you'll be weaned
off the heavy pain killers and you can leave. But you need as much
rest as you can get. So Good night, G-man," she teased lightly.

"Good night, G-woman," he fired back and settled in to sleep.

At a little after seven o'clock in the morning, Jerry was back and
shaking Scully on the shoulder. "Dr. Scully. I'm really sorry to
wake you up, but Security just called the desk. Apparently there's
been a little mishap with your car."

Scully rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "My car?" she asked
groggily. "What about my car?"

"Well, it appears that one of the construction cranes working on the
new wing got turned around and, uh, well, maybe you better go
down there and check it out," Jerry said with great trepidation.
"I'll keep watch over Agent Mulder while your gone."

"Ohmigod, my car!" Scully yelled once Jerry's words started to
sink in and took a second to throw on her shoes before rushing out
to the elevators.

Not more than a second later, a loud shrill noise broke through the
air. "Code Blue, room 552, Code Blue, room 552."

Jerry looked over at the patient, sleeping soundly. He heard the PA
again and knew where he was needed. "Sleep tight, Agent Mulder.
I'll be back as soon as I can." Jerry relunctantly left the agent
alone.

Mulder woke up to find he was moving. "Scully?" he called out,
trying to see the faces of the orderlies pushing his bed.

"Relax, Mr. Mulder. In a couple of hours it will all be over," a
bright eyed brunette nurse in pale salmon scrubs whispered in his
ear.

"Where are we going?" Mulder demanded and strained to get up.

"Surgery," came the calm reply of the man at the head of the
gurney. "We're going to remove the cancerous tumor from you
right arm, Mr. Mulder. You have an excellent chance of recovery
and we'll make certain to leave room for the prosthetic arm to
attach."

"No, no!" Mulder cried out. "I don't have cancer. I don't have a
tumor! Where's Scully? You have to talk to Scully!"

"Nurse Wilson, better give that seditive now. Mr. Mulder, just
relax. It will all be over soon."

Mulder awoke groggily and tried to figure out where he was. The
room didn't look like an operating room--he was back in his own
room. He felt like he'd been run over by a large semi trailer truck.
Without thinking, he looked over to where he knew Scully would
be sitting. She was there, waiting patiently. "I feel sick," he rasped
in barely a whisper.

"That's the anesthetic, Mulder," Scully told him gently and the
sound of her words pounded into him like a hammer pounding nails
into his coffin.

"Oh, god, Scully! My arm!" he cried out and using what little
strength he had, tried to sit up on the bed.

Scully held him down with her right hand on his shoulder. "Mulder,
do you feel that?" she asked. He relaxed a little and concentrated.
He felt her small hand giving his right hand a squeeze. His right
had that should have been missing. He relaxed the rest of the way.

"You got to me in time," he said with a sloppy grin. "How?"

"I wish I could tell you a wonderous tale of how I rushed into the
OR and kicked the crap out of a bunch of crazed doctors and
nurses before they could saw off your arm, but it would be fiction.
In truth, by the time I tracked you down, they'd already taken you
to recovery."

He frowned at her. "Then why do I still have my arm?"

She stared off for a moment, chewing on her lip, then turned back
to him. "When I got there, the OR nurses desk was in hysterics.
Seems they had a computer glitch--a biggy. Your name was
substituted for a Mr. Mason, in room 625, exactly one floor above
you. He's scheduled to have his arm amputated to stop the spread
of a cancerous tumor. It will probably save his life. But anyway,
luckily, before the surgeon made the first incision, whatever you'd
said in the hallway going up to OR started bugging him and he
asked the sponge nurse to double check the orders against your
hospital bracelet. When she did, she discovered the mistake. Of
course, by that time, you were already under, so they just wheeled
you into recovery and monitored you until I showed up. When we
were certain you were coming out of the drugs all right, they
moved you back to your room and I've been waiting for you to
wake up. You are in _much_ better shape than my Explorer, by the
way. It's now a piece of modern art."

"What happened to your car?" Mulder asked, totally perplexed.

"A crane apparently started by itself and dropped on my car. It was
equipped with one of those remote starters, but no one can figure
out how it became activated. I just hope my insurance doesn't
decide to declare it an 'act of God'," she said with a sad smile.

"The AI, Scully. It was the AI," Mulder insisted. "But what made
it change it's mind about my arm?"

Scully winced at his leap of an explanation, but relunctantly got out
a crumpled up piece of computer print-out. "I don't know, Mulder.
I'm not entirely sure I _want_ to know. But this was on the last
page of your chart." She held the page up for him to read.

On the bottom of the sheet, typed just as the rest of the page, were
the words

We're learning to 'curb' our sense of humor. Sorry for the scare.
-Invisigoth-

"Esther? It was Esther?" Mulder asked, not really expecting an
answer.

"Mulder, I don't think you should jump to any far out conclusion.
But I think we're safe in assuming that the AI, _if_ it exists, has a
'tutor', shall we say?"

"No, Scully. I think Esther would qualify as more of a 'mother'. I
hope she's does a better job raising it than some parents these
days."

"Don't we all, Mulder. Don't we all."

the end.
Vickie

"So long, everybody"

We'll miss you, Harry!

Harry Carey born ? (he wouldn't tell)
died Feb. 18, 1998