Novels The Damascus Files In The Interest of Science Other Stories A Deafening Silence Finding Zuzu's Petals Into The Mystic Je T'aime Knockin' On Heaven's Door Knowing Korena, Korena Matthew 19:14 Nightwing Sweet Dreams Symbiosis A Texas History Lesson This Could Be Heaven,   or This Could Be Hell Timepieces Your Soul in My Heart Other Info About Kat Linkage Feedback   In the Interest of Science Select a chapter Return to Story Index Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Full Text Only Chapter Twelve Location Unknown Early June I was angry, and scared and most of all, worried. After my initial concerns of a "deal with the devil" when we had first come to the underground facility, I had pushed the thoughts to the back of my mind. With all the ups and downs that had happened in the prior month, that is where they had remained -- until my elevator ride with Joe Williams and then, his scribbled warning. I decided I needed to inform Mulder of what had transpired, though I hated bringing it up at this time. He was in a lot of pain from the so called "test." But, I needed his input on how to proceed. I prepared an injection of Demerol for him, but decided to tell him of my discoveries before I gave it to him. I knew he might choose not to take it, even though he needed respite from the pain desperately, but he might figure a clear head was needed. And it was about time he was allowed to make his own choices. "Mulder," I bent over him, whispering close to his ear, "I need you to listen to me, okay?" I quickly explained, telling him of what I had found out in the elevator and the warning given, and he immediately filled in the blanks himself. "Got a bullet for me to bite on?" He groaned as he rolled over onto his back. I saw the site on his hip and knew the pain must be horrible. "No...but, how 'bout some ice?" I offered weakly, tossing away the narcotic filled syringe. At his nod, I hurried to get him a cold bag, watching the people milling in the pristine white hallway with a different eye now. Upon re-entering his room, he called me over with a motion and as I leaned close to put the pack on his hip, he motioned to the light fixture above the bed. "It's a camera, I'm sure...probably a mike, too," he whispered in my ear. I nodded that he was most likely right, knowing we most likely had been watched since the start. "I wonder if we can get a copy of the video of last Monday night?" Mulder murmured with a lopsided grin, which broadened at my blush. I knew the ice couldn't be helping too much, but maybe having a problem to concentrate on helped more. He patted the side of the bed and I sat down next to him, leaning close to discuss the matter. We were still in our unproductive discussion an hour later when Dr. Williams burst in, Jen and two white-coated assistants in tow. "We need to prep you -- now." His words were a rush and his eyes, as they met mine, were wide with excitement and fright. I started to speak, to question the fact he was moving the second surgery up by a week, but he shook his head. When I stood up, his staff instantly went to work. "I knew HE had to sleep sometime. We've got to do it now. He planned on keeping him by not giving him his legs. Wait here and when we're done, I'll try to tell you everything." The doctor's hurried explanation left me speechless. I never got a chance to recover, because then, they were gone, leaving me alone. It wasn't the doctor who came next. It was two large, burly men. They grabbed my arms and led me away to a holding cell on a lower level. What followed, were three of the worst days of my life -- not that they hurt me. No, I saw no one. My meals were pushed through a little door in my windowless cell. I had the clothes I had been wearing, a toilet (with no lid, I might add) and my watch. That watch kept my sanity and also drove me insane. I counted the minutes, the seconds. I fretted, I paced, I screamed and pounded on the door. The only way I knew I existed was three times a day, a tray of food arrived. I was left completely alone with my thoughts. They were not good company. What happened with the surgery? Was Mulder alive? Why was I still alive? What did they plan on doing with me? I tormented myself, cursed the fact I had gotten us into this. I knew Mulder would be dead right now, if we hadn't gone through with the experiment. But then, I argued with myself, he might be dead now anyway. What had I accomplished? He surely would have had an easier death, had he done it himself, than the one our enemies would plan for him. Like I said, I was not good company. Finally, three days, ten hours and thirteen minutes into my captivity, HE showed up. With the same burly guards that had taken me. Without a word, they each grabbed an arm and led me out of my cell. I had no idea where they were taking me, or for what purpose. I didn't ask, for I figured any place was better than the solitary hell of that windowless room. Even death would be better. I'd faced death before and I felt like Mulder -- sometimes you welcome it. My whole body was shaking with relief when we entered Mulder's room, but it quickly turned to anger when I saw my partner. The first thing I noticed was his legs. Two legs, encased in bandages, lay beneath the sheets. The miracle was complete. Then I saw his face. Both eyes were blackened, swollen almost shut. His cheeks were covered with scratches, molted with bruises. And his neck was covered with a gauze bandage, through which blood seeped in a dark maroon spot. When he saw me, he let out a moan that shook me to the core. It was part wounded animal, part hurt child. It broke my heart. I flung off the arms that held me and rushed to his side. He grabbed me, both arms encircling my waist, and he buried his head into my stomach. I stood holding him, offering soothing words of comfort, stroking his hair. As his sobs tapered off, I looked up at the man who had done this, trying to burn him with my hate. He smiled and took a drag off his cigarette. "You both need to listen." He spoke calmly, in even tones. "You have what you want now. There will be no more 'episodes' like this morning." My eyebrow raised in question, but the man ignored me and continued his speech. "We will get what we want now. You will be well taken care of. Your needs will be met. You'll give us what we want, when we want it. You'll NOT try to fight. You WILL NOT try to escape. And, when we have what we need, you'll be released unharmed." The smoke curled about his face as he paused to make his point. "If you try a repeat of your little stunt, Fox, she will be killed. And on top of that, if you don't succeed in killing yourself...well, let's just say...what has been given, can be taken away...and then some." a hint of a smile crossed his lips as he motioned to Mulder's new legs. I felt my stomach rise into my throat with his threat. Mulder, his arms still holding me tight, lay his head against my side and said nothing. There was nothing more to say, so the man left, but his smoky stench like his threats, still lingered in the room. I had thought Mulder had control of himself. He did while our enemies were in the room. But, as soon as the Smoking Man was gone, he fell apart. I eased up next to him and held him tight. Offering him comfort seemed to help calm my own nerves, so frayed by my solitary ordeal. Finally, he calmed enough to look up at me. "Are you all right?" he asked, his voice a thin rasp. "Did they hurt you?" I shook my head, my own tears starting to fall. His hand, his new left hand moved to clumsily wipe the wetness from my cheeks and I smiled. "They look good on you," I laughed softly, nodding at his legs. His response was not what I expected. His face crumpled once more, his tenuous grasp slipped and his body began to shake again with sobs. "I wish...I'm so sorry..." The words wouldn't come for him and he finally gave an anguished cry that chilled my soul. "Mulder, no, don't," I cried, pulling him even closer. "This is all my fault. It was my idea to come. I brought us here." "For ME!!" he argued, "You've given up everything for me -- everything. Scully. I thought you were dead. I thought he killed you. I don't want it to be about me, I really don't. I want you to have a life. I want you to have a house, kids..." He stopped and looked up at me. I'd never such hopelessness in anyone's eyes. "I have you," I whispered softly, hoping he understood. Hoping he knew, that was what I wanted. " If I have you, that's all I need." He searched my face and saw it was true. I don't think my confession was entirely a comfort to him. There was fear in his eyes when he gently kissed my neck and pulled me close. We spent the afternoon, laying together in bed, talking. I told Mulder of my three days and he shared his tale with me. "The first thing I remembered was waking up in my room. You weren't here, but I just thought you'd stepped out. I guess I had dreamed about you, because I remembered talking to you in recovery. You were holding my hand, talking to me. But I guess it was a dream." "Maybe it was Jen," I offered. He shook his head. "Not unless she loves me. You told me that. You called me Fox. You said, 'I love you, Fox.' Must have been a dream. I waited for you to come back, and when you didn't, I called for a nurse. The one that came was one I'd never seen. Scully, I haven't seen Dr. Williams since before the surgery. Jen either." I knew what he was thinking, I was thinking the same thing. We most likely would never see the affable doctor and the kind, young nurse again. They had crossed the devil himself. "I asked her where you were. She said she didn't know. That was all it took. I went nuts. That's where I got the bruises. From her and the goons. I got in a few of my own, though. Then, that bitch and those guys tied me down. They gave me a sedative. I woke up the next morning. They brought in breakfast. I threw it back at them. I wasn't going to fight them again. I knew they'd just tie me down. But I wanted them to know I wasn't happy. I do know how to show my ass in a hospital. In more ways than one." "You've made it a fine art, Mulder," I agreed. He was proud of the fact so he didn't mind my comment. In fact I got a smile out of him with it. "Last night they told me if I didn't start eating they'd force feed me. I guess they planned on giving me one more chance because they brought my tray this morning. When they left, I broke the juice glass. I guess somebody wasn't minding the store," he nodded to the light fixture over head. "I did this." He lifted the gauze on his neck and I gasped. I knew it had been a threat, not a real suicide attempt, but he had come dangerously close to really killing himself. They had repaired the gash well; it was no longer oozing blood. I changed the soiled bandage while he finished his story. "I guess somebody woke up and saw what I was doing. Next thing I know there was a room full of people. Then HE came in...took one look and brought you back to me." I did get a real smile, then. He touched my face tenderly and I kissed his hand. "It's working pretty good," I whispered, feeling the warmth of the transplanted limb in his fingertips on my face. "It's weak, I'm pretty lopsided here." I nodded, acknowledging the fact his new arm lacked the muscle tone of his other appendage. I drew back the covers to check out his legs. He obliged me by wiggling his toes. "I just have to do that sometimes," he admitted ruefully. "Just watch them move. Although I gotta tell you, I never realized how ugly my feet were." I shook my head with a laugh. Ugly they might be, they were a miracle. "They'll do." He nodded in agreement, his eyes bright. Go to Chapter 13 DISCLAIMER: "The X-Files" and its characters are owned by FOX and its related entities. All rights reserved. This website, its operators and any content on this site relating to "The X-Files" are not authorized by Fox. No copyright infringement is intended. This site created and maintained by Wasatch Design and Consulting.