Title: A New Kind of Fear

Part 6 of 10

Author: Judie Murphy <judie@webaxs.net>

Disclaimers in part 1


Scully watched him lose the fight to remain conscious. 
She suddenly felt very alone even though she knew he needed
the relief from pain that sleep provided. She turned around
and climbed onto the bed, resting her back against the bed
head. Drawing her knees up under her chin, she finally let
the tears fall. She sobbed uncontrollably as she gave into
the despair that engulfed her.  Mulder needed to be in a
hospital having his wound treated; not stuck in this
basement with a psychopath who got his rocks off by beating
up his restrained and helpless captives. 

Slowly her sobs tapered off and she regained control of
herself.  She blew her nose and dried her eyes on the
corner of the remaining sheet, feeling a little better for
the release. She glanced over at her partner, grateful that
he hadn't witnessed her breakdown. She went to the small
sink and splashed cold water over her face.  It wouldn't do
for Mulder to wake up and see her like this. No, she
couldn't allow Mulder to see her as anything other than a
complete professional. He had enough to worry about without
thinking she was falling apart. 

It was hard to believe that 24 hours ago, they were in the
car trading innuendos. They really were a bit like an old
married couple, she thought wistfully.  She wondered if he
was aware of just how much she depended on him.  He would
claim that he depended on her more but she knew that the
trust they shared was a mutual strength, peculiar to their
unique partnership. That strength had gotten them through
more than one difficult situation and she could only pray
that it would get them through this time. They were so
comfortable with each other that she sometimes wondered
where she ended and he began. The connection they shared
defied explanation, and on some level, that bothered her
but at the same time, she couldn't imagine her life without
him. She was surprised to realize she had thought that for
a very long time.    

The hours passed slowly as she listened for any sound that
would alert her to the return of their captor.  It was
early afternoon, judging by the shadows outside, when she
finally heard a moan from her partner. Instantly, she was
off the bed and moving towards him.

"Scully?" He gasped as he raised his head and then froze
as stiff neck muscles reminded him that sleeping in a
sitting position was not a good idea. 

"I'm here, Mulder. How do you feel?" 

The chain clanked as he rubbed his hands over his eyes and
across the back of his neck, which did nothing for the
headache building behind his eyes.  He dropped his hands to
his chest and grit his teeth as he waited for the pain to
pass when he inadvertently moved his leg.

"Any more water?" he asked hopefully, in an attempt to
deflect Scully's question. He didn't want to lie to her and
the truth would only make her worry more than she was
already.

They repeated the same process as before until his thirst
was quenched.

It was then that Scully noticed his leg was bleeding again. 

"Mulder, you have to wrap a bit more of the sheet around
your wound. It's seeping blood. Don't remove the first
piece, just wind this over the top."

She threw him some more of the torn sheet.  Shit, he
didn't want to move again. The pain had diminished a little
and was manageable as long as he didn't move his leg too
much. 

Then he looked at Scully looking back at him, with a
worried, anguished look on her face. Yep, definitely easier
to do as she asked than make an argument of it.  He sighed
resignedly and concentrated on keeping his leg still as he
awkwardly covered the old, bloodstained dressing with the
new one. Again it was difficult with his hands cuffed
together, but finally he was done and he lay back and
breathed deeply, eyes clenched shut, willing the black
spots to disappear. Shit, he didn't want to move again...
ever. 

He needed to concentrate on something other than the pain
and his thoughts turned to the perp. The sister was the key
and if Scully could pretend to be the sister, then maybe
there was a chance that at least one of them could get out
of here alive. And he knew that someone had to be his
partner.

Scully's concerned voice broke the silence after he
remained quiet for what seemed like an eternity but was in
reality only a few minutes. "Talk to me, Mulder. How're you
doing?"

"Just thinking," he murmured, opening his eyes to look at
her.

"About the perp?"

"Yeah."

"Do you think he killed his father?"

"No, I doubt it. He was afraid of his father. The man
probably died of natural causes but his death set off a
chain of events ... that culminated in the murder of his
sister and the others."

"But if he loved his sister, why kill her?" 

"I don't think he meant to kill her but found he couldn't
control his impulses when he became angry." Mulder forced
himself to ignore the ache in his thigh as he continued to
concentrate on the case. "I believe ... he killed Sally and
her husband because she refused ... to go along with his
delusions. She didn't want to be controlled anymore.  She
broke that cycle ... when she married and left years ago."

"So, she chose to marry and in doing so, left him at the
mercy of their father?"

He nodded tiredly. "I think that's the choice he's
referring to. She chose her husband over Ron and their
father years ago, and when she did the same thing a second
time, her brother couldn't cope. He hates how weak and ...
afraid he was when his father abused him and in a twisted
sort of way, Ron thinks ... that is why she left him.
That's why he makes the men relive some of the abuse he
suffered as a child. He wants to show her how weak they are
and how strong he is now." 

"But that doesn't explain why he killed other couples
after his sister and her husband were dead."

"I think ... it's because he failed to fulfil his fantasy
and have his sister stay with him ... so he keeps reliving
it to get it right. It's too deeply ingrained into his
psyche for him to do anything else now.  Ron hates himself
... more with each killing but excuses his own actions by
becoming his father so that he can ... can observe the
abuse from a distance.  That's how he justifies the murders
if he fails.  He will keep taking his 'sister' and her
husband ... until the fantasy plays ... out the way he
wants it to."

"And he wants the women to choose him over their husband?"
Scully asked incredulously.

"You got it," he panted; pleased she had followed his
reasoning. Now if he could block out the pain for a few
more minutes and convince her to go along with what he had
in mind, he could rest. "He wants to change the decision
made all those years ago ... when his sister left him. She
must choose to stay with him. It's the only outcome
acceptable to him.  He wants her to love him ... more than
the man she chose to marry. And since he's convinced
himself that you are his sister, you have to fulfil his
fantasy." 

"So you want me to chose him over you? Is that it?"

"You have to, Scully. You have to ignore me, convince him
... convince him that he is important to you. You must
choose him over me.  It's the only way ... to get his trust
and hopefully, a chance to escape."

"No way, Mulder, he'll kill you."

"No, I think ... we still have a few days. The idea is for
you to ... to earn his trust *before* he kills me."

"I don't like it. There must be some other way."

He sighed. She was being difficult, as he knew she would
be when it came to his welfare.  He had to convince her
that it was the only way to save them both. "I'm open to
suggestions but unless ... you have a better idea, it's
either win his confidence or *both* of us will die when his
fantasy ... fails to turn out the way he wants it to. The
other couples are proof of that. Play along but don't give
in to him too quickly. He's delusional but not stupid." 

"But I can't ignore you, Mulder."

"Sure you can. You do it ...all the time." 

"I do not," she huffed before she noticed his attempt to
waggle his eyebrows failed.  He closed his eyes and raised
his hands to rub his temple, trying to ease his headache.

"Mulder, are you all right?" she asked worriedly.

After a few seconds, he opened his eyes and gave her a
lopsided grin that went straight to her heart. "Don't
change the subject, Scully. You know ... I'm right."

Yes, she knew. She hated the thought of effectively
abandoning her partner, but if he was right, and he usually
was, it was the only way.  "All right, you win. I'll try it
your way," she said resignedly, "but I don't like it. We
don't know what he'll do even if I ... "

Any further comment was cut off by the sound of someone
moving around in the room above them. Scully hurried back
to the bed and then looked over at her partner.  

"Party time, Scully." Seeing the look of apprehension on
her face, he said gently, "I know you can do it. Just
remember, don't take any notice of me ... no matter what he
does.  That's very important.  Both our lives depend on it.
Hopefully, if you ignore me, so will he."

There was no time to say anything else as they heard
footsteps on the stairs.  The door was unlocked and Ron
entered, carrying another tray.  He still had the .38
shoved into the waist of his jeans. Scully watched the
smiling man as he approached her bed.  

He placed the tray on the floor just beyond her reach
again. In a repeat of his action earlier in the day, he
used his foot to push the tray closer to her. He pointed to
the cup of soup on the tray. "I know how much you like
Momma's soup.  I made it just the way she did," he said
proudly.  
Scully looked at him in disbelief. How could he talk as if
the events of earlier that morning hadn't happened?  Mulder
was right. This guy was delusional and didn't want to
acknowledge anything that didn't fit into his fantasy world. 

So far, Ron hadn't looked at Mulder and neither had she,
but it was hard for her. She could see him in her
peripheral vision, listening to everything that was said.  

Remembering that Mulder wanted her to play to the guy's
fantasy, she responded, "Thank you." 

Ron took a few steps back and gestured to the tray,
obviously wanting her to sample his cooking. Scully's eyes
never left the man's face and she matched him stare for
stare as she moved from the bed to the tray. She would not
make the mistake of looking at Mulder again. Her wrist was
aching and she held her left arm in her right hand, hoping
Ron would feel guilty and loosen the cuffs but he totally
disregarded her discomfort. So much for being concerned for
her, she thought. At least, he was ignoring Mulder, which
was just fine with Scully. 

Then, like a preacher delivering a sermon, Ron waved his
arms about and paced back and forth on the other side of
the room near the door. Obedience, he told her. If she
obeyed the rules, all would be well.  If not, he was duty
bound to discipline her. Daddy said so and Daddy's rules
must be obeyed. 

While eating the soup, Scully appeared to give Ron her
undivided attention.  In keeping with Mulder's plan, she
frowned a bit, forced a smile or nodded occasionally when
he seemed to want a response from her.

Ron observed the woman before him, delighted that she
listened to him and didn't cry or scream like the others. 
They had been too busy begging to be released to listen to
the rules and so Daddy had punished them. Oh, yes, he was
again reminded that this one was different and he was so
pleased to think his search was finally over.

He continued to talk and beam from ear to ear until he
noticed that the comforter was missing from the bed.  The
smiling face disappeared in an instant.

"Where's the quilt?" he demanded, eyes blazing.

Scully was surprised at the sudden change in the man and
instinctively moved back towards the bed, distancing
herself from him.

"Umm...I-I ," she stammered, not daring to glance in
Mulder's direction. 

Ron quickly scanned the room and found what he was looking
for lying on the mattress beside Mulder where he had pushed
it when Scully wanted to check his leg.  Ron's eyes
narrowed and his face turned beet red when he noticed that
in addition to the bloodied quilt, a sheet had been
sacrificed to bandage the wound. 

Scully wasn't sure what to say and when she saw the face
that turned to look at her, she was suddenly very afraid
for her partner.  It was the face of the monster who had
pulled the trigger earlier in the day. Oh no, she thought,
not again.

"How could you?" he hissed. He waved his hands wildly in
the air, totally out of control. "You know Daddy doesn't
like waste.  You know we have to look after our
possessions.  Money doesn't grow on trees, you know. Now
I'll have to go without something to get the money to buy
another sheet and quilt because they're ruined.  They've
got blood all over them," he ranted. "You have to show
respect for other peoples' property." 

He strode towards the cupboard in the corner. Shaking his
head, he yelled at her. "When will you ever learn?  I AM SO
SICK OF THIS."  

He yanked the door open and pulled out a cane about three
feet long, tapering off at the end like a riding crop.  He
swished it through the air, the movement making a whooshing
sound as he slashed it from side to side. After a few
practice strokes, which only served to feed his anger, he
approached Mulder.  

Scully immediately jumped to her feet and was about to
open her mouth when she saw Mulder give a slight shake of
his head. Shit! She'd forgotten already. She was supposed
to be indifferent to him. As hard as it was, she turned
around and casually climbed on to the bed and sat with her
back to the bed head. Unable to do anything that wouldn't
make the situation worse, she closed her eyes and prayed,
unable to watch what she knew was coming.  It was only
Mulder's absolute certainty that any reaction on her part
would make matters worse that prevented her from screaming
at the top of her voice for Ron to leave Mulder alone and
punish her instead.  After all, she was the one who had
given him the quilt, she should be the one punished.

Ron glanced over his shoulder at Scully and was surprised
to see that she was on the bed, eyes closed, ignoring him
completely. It excited him that she was different from the
others. His heart quickened as his hopes rose. Maybe she
really was the one to save him, to love and respect him as
the man of the house.  Just like Daddy, he was in control
of his world and it felt good...so good. But at the same
time, he was disappointed that she didn't want to watch
him. No, he thought, she has to watch. He had to show her
that this was how it would be and that he was strong now,
not like the wimp of the past. Oh, yes! It was a good
feeling. He liked it and so did Daddy.

"Watch," he commanded. 

At the harsh sound of his voice, Scully reluctantly looked
up. If she defied him, Mulder would certainly suffer more. 

Satisfied he had her attention, Ron turned to the man
lying helpless on the floor. 

Mulder had watched the scene unfold and knew what was to
come.  He also knew that nothing he could say would deter
the man from using the cane to punish him. Thankfully,
Scully had received his message or his plan for her to gain
Ron's trust would have failed.  He only hoped that she
could keep up the pretence and he vowed to do his best to
make it easier for her. 

As the cane whooshed through the air, Mulder instinctively
turned his back to the blow and raised his hands to protect
his head, ignoring the searing pain in his thigh as he
curled into a ball.  Ron brought the cane down hard across
the shoulders of his captive.  Mulder arched his back as
the cane cut into his flesh but he refused to utter a
sound. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take
but, knowing Scully was listening, he bit his bottom lip
and kept silent.  For the next few minutes, the only noise
was the continued swish of the cane and the thud as it
struck his back. After five more lashes, Mulder lay panting
on the floor, barely conscious, tears streaming down his
face. Then the cane struck his leg and he couldn't take any
more. He screamed in agony, then his eyes rolled back in
his head and his body went limp as he passed out. 

Ron looked over his shoulder to make sure that Scully was
watching him. He was overjoyed when she simply stared back
at him as if she didn't care about the man on the floor.
Excellent. Daddy was pleased.

Scully forced herself to keep her eyes open, clenching her
fists so tight that her nails left imprints on her palms. 
She counted every sickening thud of the cane on Mulder's
body and vowed that Ron would suffer for each and every one.

Seven... eight...  

How many more, she wondered as she kept her eyes fastened
on Ron. She was grateful her partner had escaped the pain
by passing out because watching this was killing her. She
didn't think she could continue with the charade if he'd
been conscious. 

...Nine...ten.  

Scully's eyes followed Ron's every move as she repeated
the mantra in her head. Don'tlookatMulder, look at
Ron...don'tlookatMulder, look at Ron...don'tlookatMulder.

Ron breathed heavily from the exertion and he again looked
over at Scully where she sat on the bed. Her eyes were
focused only on him and he swelled with pride. He mistook
her quickened respiration, compressed lips and angry eyes
as signs of adoration for him, not realising that she was
imagining what she would do to him if she ever got him in
her sights. 

He was pleased she had accepted Daddy's punishment.
Excellent. The others had begged him to stop but this one
was different. Oh yes, she was very different.  He was
convinced now that she was the one and the thought calmed
him as he turned back to the cupboard and replaced the
cane.  When he turned to face Scully again, all the anger
was gone and he flashed that maddening smile at her.

She forced herself to give him a small, tight smile that
never reached her eyes.

"Good...that's good. I have to go to work now. I'm on the
late shift.  Daddy says that holding down a regular job
shows responsibility. After all, *somebody* has to earn the
money to put food on the table."  He said that last
sentence as if he'd heard it a thousand times before and
had been waiting for the right time to use it. Perhaps he
had. 

Ron looked at her again but when she showed no inclination
to reply, he went on, "I'll be back tomorrow morning and we
can talk some more." He stared at her, open admiration and
love etched on his face. "I'm so glad I found you again.  I
thought I'd lost you," he whispered softly and then strode
to the door, locking it on his way out.    

As she heard his footsteps climb the stairs, Scully was
off the bed and moving as close to her partner as her chain
would allow, frustrated yet again that she couldn't reach
him.

He was so still and very pale. She could see blood oozing
through the torn fabric of his suit jacket and she cringed
when she noticed fresh blood seeping from his thigh. 

"Mulder...Mulder...MULDER, please answer me."

Fighting a rising wave of panic, Scully called again.

"MULDER.... wake up, please." 

The sound of Scully's voice gradually seeped into Mulder's
brain. As he became more aware, he remembered the agonizing
blow to his thigh and then nothing.  His leg pounded in
rhythm with the pumping of his heart and his back felt on
fire.  He was more on his stomach than his side now and his
arms were still curled around his head.  He felt a sticky
wetness as blood flowed down his back. He tried to lift his
head and move his arms but the action pulled on the broken
skin of his back.  He dropped his head back to the mattress
with a moan. 

"Mulder?"

He wanted to escape to the darkness again but Scully was
calling him so he forced himself to concentrate on her
voice. 

"Sc..ully?"

"Thank God, Mulder."

Relief flooded through her at the sound of his voice, even
though it was so weak she might have missed it. "How ya
doing', partner?" 

He heard the concern in her voice but there was no way he
could sit up this time. He felt so tired and weak like a
newborn kitten. "Umm...been better.  Think... I'll just...
stay here... " 

"Did he hit you on the head?" she asked worriedly.  She
was concerned at his sluggish response.

"Don't... think so."  His body began to shiver and he felt
like he wanted to be sick again but there was nothing to
bring up. That didn't stop his stomach from dry retching
and every movement sent shards of pain coursing through his
back and leg.

"Mulder, can you roll over and pull the quilt around
yourself?"

No answer. Shit, thought Scully.  She yanked again on the
chain; frustrated beyond measure that she couldn't reach
him.  She wanted to check his wounds but knew that getting
him covered was the best she could hope for at the moment.  

"Mulder. You need to keep warm. MULDER!"

He jerked at the familiarity of his name. He shifted his
head slightly so that he could see her. 

"You're in shock again. Pull the quilt over yourself." 

Hmm, he was in shock again. So what?  He turned painfilled
eyes back to a very concerned-looking Scully, who nodded
encouragingly to the bedding lying by his side. 

One look at her face and he knew she wouldn't let up until
he was covered, so he grit his teeth and slowly reached to
the side.  He pulled the quilt over his still shivering
body and rolled onto his left side, facing her. It was
worth the pain when he was rewarded with a rare smile that
made him forget his misery momentarily. He raised his
eyebrows in an 'are you happy now'? look and asked,
""Where's ...?"

"Gone for now. He said he was going to work. He'll be back
in the morning."

Mulder closed his eyes since the room refused to stop
spinning. "Of c..course. He would have to..to maintain his
normal routine or it w..would look s..suspicious." Another
shudder wracked his body.

Scully looked worriedly at Mulder as his eyelids began to
droop.  She hated not being able to get any closer to him
but there was nothing she could do about it. What he needed
was rest to recover his strength.

"Don't think about that now. I'm just grateful he left you
the quilt. He won't be back for hours, so try and get some
rest."

Mulder couldn't ever remember hurting this much, and
giving into the blackness was very appealing. "Mmm, 'kay,"
he murmured sleepily, consciousness ebbing away as he
slipped into slumber despite the pain. 

Scully watched him fall asleep and felt the silence as if
a heavy weight had settled on her shoulders.  She was very
worried about him. It was now around nine hours since he
had been shot and he looked terrible. Damn. She wished she
wasn't a doctor.  She knew that unless he received medical
treatment soon, infection from any foreign material driven
into his wounds would be a greater threat to Mulder's life
than the man who shot him. 

As she closed her eyes, the vision of Mulder being whipped
over and over replayed in glorious technicolour beneath her
lids. She would never forget it and she certainly wouldn't
stand by and watch him being abused like that again. In the
morning, she would tell Mulder that they would have to
think of another plan because Plan A sucked.

Suddenly, she felt nauseous and only just made it to the
small basin before she vomited what she had eaten. Her
hands were still shaking as she cupped them and splashed
water on her face. Feeling a little weak, she walked
unsteadily back to the bed and watched her sleeping partner
until the room was too dark to see him any more. She lay
alone in the darkness, trying to formulate an alternative
plan of escape, until finally, hours later, she fell into a
restless sleep. 

*************************************************
End Part 6

Title: A New Kind of Fear

Part 7 of 10

Author: Judie Murphy <judie@webaxs.net>

Disclaimers in part 1


Basement of House
Location unknown
Wednesday
Approximately 6.05 AM

Mulder moved and the resulting pain caused his eyelids to
flutter and a soft moan to escape his lips. He finally
opened his eyes and looked around, confused for a moment
but then he remembered. Fuck! He hurt everywhere. He licked
his dry lips and cursed silently when he realised he was on
his side again. He noticed the comforter lying beside him
and guessed that he'd pushed it off during the night, which
was not surprising since he felt hot and sweaty. A monster
headache and gritty eyes told him he had a fever. The
rising sun was just beginning to make early morning shadows
on the floor and he was surprised to realise he must have
slept all night. 

"Scully?" 

"I'm here, Mulder."

Scully moved from the bed into his field of vision,
instantly awake at the sound of his voice. She was a bit
flushed and obviously worried about him, but otherwise she
looked okay. 

"Thirsty" he whispered, licking his lips again, his voice
weak and raspy.

"If I throw you the water cup, do you think you can reach
it?" 

He thought about it for a minute, wondering if he had the
energy to sit up again. He decided he had no choice.  He
desperately needed a drink and he needed to talk to Scully.
It was difficult to do either lying on his side. "Give it
my best shot," he croaked. 

As she filled the cup, the sound of running water *almost*
covered the moans Mulder tried to hide as he slowly pushed
himself into a sitting position, biting his lip against the
explosion of pain in his leg and the pull of his shirt
where the blood had dried on his back. His vision dimmed
for a moment, his breath coming in small pants until he
finally relaxed against the wall, ignoring the pressure
this placed on the cuts on his back. At least the wall was
cool against his hot skin. 

Scully felt the prick of tears behind her eyes at his
efforts to muffle the sound but she  blinked rapidly,
forcing them back. She paused a moment, supposedly
satisfying her own thirst, while she got a grip on her
emotions. When she thought she was ready, she turned around
and flashed him a forced smile. "Ready?"

"Ready ... when you are, Scully." 

She took careful aim and threw the full Styrofoam cup of
water so that it landed on the mattress beside him. He
moved his hands to pick up the water and winced when the
action caused the split skin on his back to pull again. He
took a few deep breaths, picked up the cup, took the top
off with shaking hands and gulped the water down.

"More?" he asked as he flicked the cup back to her with a
jerk of his right wrist so that he didn't move his
shoulders any more than was necessary. 

Scully refilled the container and threw it back and he
drank more slowly this time. 

"How do you feel?"

He looked at her and attempted a smile but his lips
refused to cooperate. "Not too bad if I don't move." Well,
that was true enough, he thought. His headache had eased a
bit and as long as he didn't move, the throbbing in his
back was not too bad but the intense heat and pain
radiating from his thigh was hard to ignore. 

As the sunlight streamed through the small window, Scully
could see Mulder more clearly.  He obviously had a fever.
His eyes were too bright; his face was flushed and beads of
perspiration dotted his forehead. As difficult as it was
for her, she said nothing, knowing he hated it when she
fussed over him and there really was nothing she could do
for him.

"Mulder, I ..."

Before she could finish the sentence, they heard footsteps
on the stairs and Scully barely made it back to the bed
before the door opened and Ron appeared with the now-
familiar cardboard tray.

"Good morning, Sis," he said as he breezed in.  He seemed
very pleased with himself and Mulder wondered what had
happened to put him in such a good mood.

Since Ron ignored him, Mulder was free to look at Scully.
He saw that she was giving Ron her undivided attention. She
appeared composed and in control, but he knew her. She was
afraid of this man.  Not for herself but for him. 

"Good morning," she replied, watching Ron closely.

Any hope that Ron might relax his guard and give Scully a
chance to disable him with a well placed kick faded when he
placed the tray on the floor and pushed it towards her with
his foot again, his hand on the gun at his waist. His face
didn't have that strained, haunted expression of the
previous day and this made him look younger. There was no
sign of the monster who had shot and whipped Mulder the day
before.   

"No time to chat this morning.  I have to go down to the
police station and talk to the F.B.I."  Ron pronounced the
last three letters proudly, as if he had been asked to
lunch with the President who wanted his personal opinion on
some important issue. 

"They called me at the diner last night and asked me to go
in and talk to them. It seems two agents have gone missing
and they think I can help with their enquiries. This is not
the first time the police have asked for my help, you
know."  He puffed up at his own self-importance and looked
to her as if seeking her approval. 

The small flicker of hope that had surged within her at
the mention of the FBI was squashed when Scully looked into
Ron's cold eyes. He smiled that patronizing smile she hated
and whispered in a soft voice as if they might be
overheard. "Don't worry, Sis, I won't tell them you're
back. It'll be our secret.  No one is going to take you
away from me now." 

When Scully failed to respond to his promise, his eyes
flashed angrily.  "What is it with you?  You're just like
Daddy. Nothing I do pleases you. Don't you think I can keep
a secret?  Is that it? WELL, I CAN," he shouted at the top
of his voice. "YOU THINK I'M STUPID, DON'T YOU?" The
insanity was back in his eyes and Scully was terrified he
would loose control again and hurt her partner. 

She immediately jumped off the bed and raised her hands in
a soothing gesture. "No, I don't." She didn't dare look at
her partner.  She looked around her side of the room;
desperate to say something that would calm Ron. Her eyes
settled on the untouched tray at her feet and she had an
idea. "Please forgive me.  You're a wonderful brother. You
look after me and bring me food. I need you, Ron, I need
you to look after me." 

She chanced a look at Ron's face.  The anger was fading,
replaced with a look of wonder. "You need me?"

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. 

Ron was pleased.  She hadn't turned away from him or
cried. She said she needed him. Not Daddy but him. For the
first time in his life, she needed *him*. And she had asked
for *his* forgiveness. He liked being in control and he
revelled in the power of it. He wasn't like Daddy. He would
forgive her. This time.

"Very well. I forgive you," he said generously, waving his
hand in the air like a benevolent God. "But I want to see
your smile.  I've missed that most of all."

"Thank you, Ron," whispered a relieved Scully, as she
forced a smile to her lips.  Talking to this man was like
walking in a mine field. One wrong move on her part and he
exploded. She didn't know if she could keep up with his
sudden mood changes much longer and still keep her own
sanity. 

Ron didn't notice her pale complexion as he flashed her
another irritating smile in return.  He looked like an
excited teenager about to go on his first date, instead of
a man about to be questioned by the police.  "Well, I must
go. They're waiting for me." He paused and looked at her
adoringly. "Oh, it is so good to have you back, Sis."  He
turned and rushed from the room, eager to get to his
appointment.

When they heard him lock the door and run up the stairs, a
shaking Scully turned to Mulder, who had watched Ron's
performance closely.

"Thanks, Scully.  I think you ... just saved my butt
again." 

Scully looked at her partner, uncomfortable with his
praise when it would have been her fault if he had been
punished again. "I don't understand, Mulder. Ron still
refers to me as his sister and yet he must know we are the
agents that the Bureau is looking for? He has our ID's."

"I know it doesn't make sense ... to us but that's part of
his psychosis.  He only sees what fits into his dream world
and ignores ... anything that contradicts it. Control is
very important to him.  As long as he feels in ... control
and everything goes the way he wants it to... he will play
out the fantasy about his sister until she chooses to stay
with him. He won't kill us ... unless he loses hope that
his dream will come true."

"How long do you think we have before...."

Mulder closed his aching eyes. "Maybe two days, no more.
Depends ...on how long it takes to positively identify the
bodies.  I think the remains of Ron's sister and her
husband are the most ... decomposed of the bodies dug up in
the woods. It will take longer to positively identify them.
Our disappearance ...complicates matters. The Bureau won't
know for sure if our failure to turn up is connected to the
murders or not.  Either way, Aitken will have to get
another Pathologist. He'll still want ... to keep any
information about the murders quiet for the moment. That
media blackout is still in effect.  I'm not sure what Ron
will do ... when he's officially notified that his sister
is dead."  He moved his arms to rub his burning eyes and
stubbled jaw and winced when the pain in his back flared.

"Do you think anyone will see through Ron?" she asked,
hopefully. God, he looks so sick.  His sweat soaked hair
was plastered to his forehead and she could tell he was in
a lot of pain. 

"Maybe but Ron's been living this fantasy for months ... I
doubt he'll slip up now.   My guess is that he'll be ...
polite and controlled.  He's already been ... questioned
once before and passed."  Damn!  It was so hard to
concentrate when his leg felt like someone had stuck it
with a red-hot poker and his head was about to explode. 

Scully noticed Mulder was paler than before, if that was
possible. She knew he was close to passing out again but
she had to talk to him about what happened last night.

"Mulder, I can't watch another scene like last night. I
just can't. I refuse to watch him hurt you again and
pretend that I'm not dying inside." 

He slowly opened his eyes and saw concern and fear mixed
with something else in the eyes of his partner. He wasn't
sure exactly what it was but he had seen it a few times
before. Mostly it was when he was recovering from an injury
after he had run off and done something stupid but he
didn't have time to analyse it now. He had to convince her
to stick to the original plan. 

"You have to ...ignore me. It's ... the only way."

"No, don't ask me to do that again.  I can't and I won't."

"Please, Scully, he'll kill you.  You have ... to make him
think you'll ...stay with him."

"So he can kill you and let me live? Is that your plan?
Because if it is, I don't want any part of it." She was
angry now, her eyes blazing. 

He hesitated, not wanting to upset her further.  It was
just as well their kidnapper had left the house, thought
Mulder or he would be privy to their rather heated
conversation. He gave an exasperated sigh. He didn't like
it when she was angry with him and this argument was
getting them nowhere. He felt weak and dizzy all of a
sudden but he wouldn't give in until he made her see
reason. He made a last ditch effort to try and get her to
follow his plan. 

"It's the only way. If you choose ... him then he might
let me go." He knew that wasn't going to happen but if he
could convince her then maybe she had a chance to live.
That was all he cared about, but one look at her face and
he knew the jig was up. 

"That's bullshit and you know it. He'll kill you. Don't
expect me to stand by and watch him do it either. I won't.
I'd rather kill myself. Do you hear me?" she shouted.
  
The vehemence in her voice startled him. He hurt all over
and he didn't want to fight any more. He just wanted to
close his burning eyes and escape his aching body but he
had to settle this first. "No you won't,  ... you've got
too much to live for ... and a family that loves you ...
Besides, you're Catholic."

He was right of course. Suicide went against everything
she believed in. But could she calmly wait for death and
give up what little control she had over what was left of
her life? No, she couldn't do that either. Besides, she
didn't want to consider a life without Mulder. "I won't
watch you die and then wait for him to kill me. I won't, do
you hear me, Mulder?" Her anger faded away and then she
said softly, "We're in this together, partner, just like
always."

How could he argue with that? They were always stronger
together than they were apart although he wasn't sure that
would apply this time. He was injured and a liability if
Scully could somehow escape. All right, he thought wearily,
time to try a different approach. "Promise me ... something."

"Not now.  Just rest." soothed Scully.

He ignored her. "Promise me you'll ...escape if you get
the chance. Get help.  Don't worry 'bout me... only hold
you back. Promise?"

"I can't, and don't give me any grief about it because I
know you wouldn't leave me either."

He continued as if she hadn't replied. "Promise me. You
have ... to promise." 

Scully sighed, frustrated that he would even ask this of
her but she knew an obsessive Mulder was hard to put off.
Trust him to want her safe even if it meant he would
probably be on the receiving end of Ron's fury if she did
manage to escape.  She looked away, blinking back the tears
that threatened to fall.  She swallowed the lump in her
throat and concentrated on keeping her voice from betraying
her. 

"I can't promise that. We'll make it out together or ..."

"P'ease, Scully."

"No, we make it out together or not at all. I won't leave
you. I told you before. I won't watch you die and I meant
it."

"Bu' Scullee...." 

She noticed his slurred speech and kicked herself for
wasting his remaining strength on a fight. He was slipping
away from her and there was nothing she could do about it.
The fever raging though his system was the enemy now. God,
this was so frustrating. She yanked on the chain again in a
futile attempt to get closer to him but it was no use. 

"No buts. You have to hold on for me. Do you hear me,
partner?" 

"Hmmm."

"Promise me you'll hold on. Okay?" she asked softly, the
tenderness evident in her voice. 

He was relieved she didn't sound angry with him anymore.
His head was throbbing; his leg felt as if a rat was
gnawing on the hot flesh and the room was spinning again. 
What did she want?  Something about holding on for her.  It
didn't matter. He'd do anything to make her happy. "'kay,
...d-deal."

Scully watched helplessly as his body listed to his left
and he slid to the floor. It broke her heart to hear him
whimper softly at the pain the movement caused him but he
didn't wake up. She couldn't help him but at least he had
escaped the pain and for that she was thankful. 

Wearily, she decided she should eat something so she
headed for the tray. She forced the food down her throat,
drank from the tap and paced up and down beside the bed,
working the kinks out of her stiff muscles.  She exercised
for the same reason she ate. Ron might become complacent
and make a mistake.  Please God; he had to make a mistake.

She sat on the edge of the bed and spent some time trying
to think of an alternative escape plan but she couldn't
come up with anything. Exasperated, she decided she had to
go with Mulder's plan simply because she couldn't think of
an alternative.   

Mulder moved restlessly on the mattress and whimpered
softly, caught up in some fever dream. She called to him
reassuringly and he settled but not before she saw tears
leaking from the outside corners of his eyes.  Seeing him
cry in his sleep was too much. A sob caught in her throat
and she couldn't stop her own tears.  

"Oh God..." She sobbed. "Not like this.  Not after all
we've been through." 

When there were no more tears left and she was reduced to
hiccups, she looked over at the man huddled on the
mattress. She was worried about how much he was sweating
and how little fluid he was taking in.  She tried to fight
the despair and fear that gripped her heart. What if they
didn't make it this time?  What if Mulder died and she
lived?  The knot in her stomach tightened sharply at the
thought of a life without him. No, Mulder was a survivor. 
He would hold on for her. He'd promised. She desperately
needed to touch him, re-connect with him and give him some
of her strength. But most of all, she needed to tell him
something she had refused to acknowledge until now. She
finally admitted to herself that she loved Mulder with an
intensity that frightened her. Since Antarctica, the
dynamic of their relationship had changed and so had her
feelings for him. Why hadn't she told him? She knew the
answer to that. It all came back to the one emotion she
couldn't seem to get past. 

Fear. 

Not fear of monsters or mutants or conspiracies.  She
could handle that kind of fear; it went with the job. But
the irrational fear she had of losing someone she loved. It
was that fear that had prevented her from giving her heart
to Mulder.  

But what if Mulder did die? Would her pain be any less
than if they had consummated their relationship and moved
to the next level?  No, the vice-like grip around her heart
gave her the answer to that question. Of course, he had
been near death before but that had been many layers of
friendship ago. She had loved him then but not like now. He
had become the most important person in her life.  She
didn't know how or when that had happened, it just had.

What a fool she'd been.  She'd sacrificed whatever
happiness she may have enjoyed with Mulder to protect her
heart, without realising that the pain of losing him would
be the same whether they were lovers or not.  The only
difference was, if he died, she would only have regrets and
not the happy memories her mother had of her father.

Too late she realised she couldn't protect her heart by
denying her feelings. Oh, God, she prayed again, please
don't take him from me. I need to tell him.

Now she had a new kind of fear.  

A fear that she had left it too late; that he might die
and never know how she felt. She made a vow to God and to
Mulder, that she would tell him the first chance she got. 

Scully didn't realise she'd fallen asleep until she woke
with a start. From the shadows on the walls, she guessed it
was mid-afternoon. Rising from the bed, she moved closer to
her partner and was shocked at what she saw. He was deathly
pale except for his unshaven cheeks, which were flushed
with fever.  His eyes were sunken, rimmed with dark
circles, and his hair was stuck to his sweaty brow. She
pushed down the panic that told her his time was running
out. 

Feeling frustrated at her inability to do anything for her
still-sleeping partner, she sighed and turned towards the
small sink.  If she was going to woo Ron, she had to
freshen up. She washed her face and hands, ran her fingers
through her hair and straightened her clothes. She changed
the bandage on her wrist, wincing as she washed the mildly
infected cuts and dressed the wounds again. She just wished
she could do the same for Mulder but there was no way she
could reach him and he couldn't manage it himself. As she
finished, she became aware that she was being observed and
turned around to see her partner watching her. He just lay
on his side, looking at her, his eyes glazed with pain and
fever. 

"Hey. How long have you been awake?" she asked.

"Long 'nough ...t' know I'm 'n real trouble. Don't think
...gonna make it." 

"Don't talk like that, Mulder," she said sharply, but the
slight quiver in her voice betrayed her. She didn't like
how he was talking but that didn't change the facts. It was
only a matter of time. He knew it and so did she. Damn, she
was not going to lose him now.  She had to get more fluids
into him. "Can you drink some more water?" 

He didn't answer. He just stared at her, memorizing her
features as if he would never see her again. 

She became frantic as his eyes drifted shut. "No, Mulder,
you have to hold on.  Do you hear me?  I love you." There,
she'd said it.  She'd finally crossed the line but she
doubted he'd heard her.

He surprised her when she heard him ask weakly, "You
...love me?  The forever 'n ever ... kind of love or ...the
best friend kind of love?" 

"The forever and ever kind."

He gave a small smile as he struggled to open his eyes
again but only managed to lift them to half-mast. How many
times had he dreamt of her saying those words to him? He'd
lost count. He must be dreaming. He struggled to focus his
eyes, expecting her to disappear in a cloud of smoke and
was surprised when she was still there.

"I like ... this dream. Can we stay here ... where you
...love me?" 

Scully bit her lip, lines of worry creasing her forehead.   

"It's not a dream. I do love you. Mulder, please listen to
me," she pleaded. "I love you and when we get out of here,
I promise to show you how much, but you have to keep your
promise first. Remember? You promised to hold on for me." 

"I d-did?" he asked stupidly. Oh yeah, that's right. He
had to hold on.  Was that what she'd said?  He thought it
was, but his mind was playing tricks on him. Why else would
he hear her say she loved him? He moved his head slightly
from side to side, trying to clear it but that action only
brought on a wave of pain and dizziness that threatened to
engulf him. He was shivering now and he vaguely wondered
how he could be so cold when his leg was on fire. Scully's
voice kept drifting in and out but he couldn't hear the
words. It was as if she was calling to him from the end of
a long tunnel. 

Scully stood by helplessly as tears rolled down her
cheeks. She'd been calling to him for the last few minutes
but she knew he couldn't hear her. She had no need to hide
her tears because he was looking straight through her. He
was focused on a vision only he could see. 

Mulder blinked several times, trying to focus but
everything was blurry. He hurt all over and he wanted
Scully. Where was she? His mind kept wandering but he tried
to concentrate. She said she loved him. He latched onto
that thought. He called her name over and over but all he
heard in reply was the pounding in his head. His eyesight
cleared for a moment and he was relieved to see her
standing before him. She was wrapped in nothing but a bath
towel, her damp hair hanging around her beautiful face in
soft curls.  She smiled and mouthed the words 'I love you'
as she reached for him. He tried to lift his arms, ignoring
the pull on his back but he had no strength left.  Moaning,
he fell back to the mattress. The blackness was closing in.
His glazed eyes searched one last time for her face but she
had disappeared. No, not again.  "N-noooo. W-where are y-
you Scullee? D-don' l-leave me."  He had to tell her. "L-
love you, t-t-too. Sculleeeee." 

Scully strained against her cuffs, trying to get even a
few inches closer to him. "Mulder, I'm here.  I love you
and I won't leave you. Please don't leave me." She was
sobbing now, desperate to get through to him. "Mulder, stay
with me. Please."

No answer.

"MULDER!"

It was no use. He was unconscious again.  

She slumped to the floor, feeling cold and empty inside,
knowing that unless he received medical attention and soon,
he would die. 

After a few minutes, she dried her tears and made her
decision. There was no more time to woo their abductor.
Tonight was the night. She had no choice and nothing left
to lose. Mulder would be lucky to last another day and, if
he died, her life would be over even before Ron pulled the
trigger and stopped her heart.

She spent the remainder of the day waiting for Ron to
return, praying that she could convince him to release her. 

As was becoming the pattern, Ron arrived with her evening
meal on a cardboard tray about mid afternoon. He placed the
tray on the floor and pushed it toward her as usual. As he
stepped back, she forced a big smile and hoped he didn't
notice that it failed to reach her eyes. 

"Good evening, Sally."

"Good evening, Ron."  

This ritual was wearing a bit thin but it seemed important
to Ron that they exchange this pleasantry so she went along
with it. She found it hard to hide the revulsion she felt
for this man but she had to, if the plan was to work.
Concentrate and don't blow it, Dana, she told herself. 

Ron retreated to the far side of the room and stood with
his hands clasped behind his back, looking at her with an
odd expression in his black eyes. He seemed relaxed, even
pleased about something. 

Scully eyes followed his every move, her back to her
partner. She hated having to do that but it was better than
inadvertently looking at Mulder when he cried out for her. 
She didn't dare incur Ron's anger again.  She fleetingly
wondered how his chat with the Bureau had gone. She came to
the conclusion that if they had seen through Ron's charade,
he wouldn't be here and he certainly wouldn't be this
happy. That meant she was on her own.

****************************************************
End part 7

Title: A New Kind of Fear 

Part 8 of 10

Author: Judie Murphy <judie@webaxs.net>

Disclaimers in part 1


She needed to tell Ron she would stay with him but she had
to do it without arousing the man's suspicions. It was hard
to be patient, knowing that every moment was critical if
she was to save Mulder, but she didn't want to blow it by
rushing things. Start with small talk, she told herself.

"Thank you for the meal, Ron."

Ron was delighted. This was more like it. She appreciated
and respected him. She gave him her undivided attention. He
pushed Daddy to the back of his mind. The euphoria he felt
made him giddy and only reinforced his certainty that she
was the one to save him. "I have a present for you, Sis,"
he said, smiling. 

He reached around the back of his jeans and pulled out an
object that he'd hidden behind his back. He held it up
proudly for her inspection.

It was a rag doll about 14 inches long with two blue
buttons for eyes, an embroidered nose and mouth, and brown
wool stitched to the head that had been plaited and
lovingly tied back from the cloth face.  The clothing was
grubby but the doll had obviously been a much-loved
plaything from the past. 

From the look on his face, Ron expected her to recognise
it. Then it hit her. It must have been Sally's doll. It was
the perfect opening for her.

"Thank you for looking after her, Ron. You are the best
brother a girl could ever have."

If he had been happy before, he positively beamed at her
praise. 

Scully decided to exploit his good mood and prayed she
could deliver an Oscar-winning performance. "I hope you
still want me, Ron, because I want to stay with you."  She
tried to put as much affection into her voice as she could.

Ron took a step towards her. "Really?"

She nodded, giving him what she hoped he would interpret
as an adoring look. 

He stared at her as if he couldn't believe his dearest
wish had been granted. "You'll stay with me? Love me and
never leave me?"

She nodded again. 

Ron wanted so much to believe her but he'd been
disappointed before, had his hopes dashed too many times to
take her words at face value. Daddy was in his head again,
telling him not to trust her.  That she would betray him
like the others.

"Do you still love him?" he asked jerking his head in the
direction of the unconscious man behind her.

Scully knew she had to get this part right and prayed she
said what Ron wanted to hear. "No, he's weak and I hate
him. I made a big mistake when I left. I should have stayed
here with you. Please forgive me." She tried not to choke
on the words as the tears trickled down her cheeks. "I love
you, Ron, and I want to stay with you."  

He tried to look into her eyes and detect any deceit but
she was sobbing now, her hands over her eyes.  That part
was not an act as Scully's overwrought emotions took over.
Could he believe her? Ron wanted to with all his heart and
soul but Daddy said there was only one way to be sure she
meant what she said. Without warning, Ron whirled and
turned on Mulder, who lay helpless on the mattress. 

Scully heard a sickening thud and opened her eyes at the
same time as her partner cried out in anguish. 

The pain of something striking his midsection woke Mulder
with an unpleasant jolt and he screamed. He fought to take
a breath as something connected with his ribs again, but
the wind was knocked out of him. He opened his eyes and
blinked, still struggling to take air into his lungs but
the pain in his side exploded again and again. He heard
Scully screaming but the words were all jumbled and distant
as the pain became too much and he lost consciousness once
more.

Scully felt trapped in her worst nightmare all over again
as she helplessly watched the man she loved being
repeatedly kicked. Without thinking, she ran towards her
partner's tormentor and yelled at him to stop. Promising
him anything if he would just stop.  Her pleading just
provoked the furious man to kick Mulder even more.

Then Ron rounded on her, eyes blazing, his pleasure now
turned to rage. In that instant, she knew he'd tested her
and she'd failed. Ron knew it too. Spit dribbled from his
chin, his face beet red as he angrily yelled at her, "YOU
BITCH! Daddy was right. Did you think you could trick
me...me, your own brother?  HOW COULD YOU?"

"I'm sorry, Ron." She sobbed. "Please give me another
chance. I'll stay with you, I promise. Just let him go and
I'll stay with you and I won't give you any trouble." 

She was begging by this time but she didn't care. She had
blown it. Nothing else mattered but getting Mulder to a
hospital. If Ron decided to punish her again, Mulder
wouldn't survive. Scully knew her defence of Mulder had
cost what little trust she'd gained in the last two days
and she cursed herself. Stupid...stupid...stupid.

"Daddy won't stand for this, you know," he spat out. "What
do I do? Oh, what do I do?" Ron grabbed his head and cried
out as if in pain. Daddy wanted him to kill them both. "No,
Daddy, no. I won't do it."  

Ron was devastated.  She was the one. He had been sure of
it and since he couldn't possibly be wrong, there had to be
a reason why she defended that weak, pathetic excuse for a
man. If only Daddy would get out of his head and leave him
alone to think. Ron dropped his arms to his side and
glanced at Scully who was standing with her hands over her
mouth, silent now, except for the occasional sob.

He looked at the man on the floor and then back at Scully.
A sudden flash of understanding crossed his features and
the anger was gone, replaced by that maddening smile.
"*Now* I get it. I don't know why I didn't see it before.
He's the problem." He paused, pointing to Mulder.  "He has
some sort of hold over you. *That's* why. It's so simple.
If he's gone, you'll be free of his influence." 

He gazed at her with something akin to desperation in his
eyes. "You are my last hope.  I can't look any more...I'm
so tired and Daddy is so strong sometimes. I just want us
to be together like we used to be. That's not too much to
ask, is it?" 

Scully stared at him, hesitant to say anything that would
make the situation worse but sensed that he might listen to
her now that he seemed to have calmed down. She figured she
had nothing left to lose.

"Please, Ron, let me go," she said softly.  "I'll help you
in any way I can but I need you to undo these cuffs." 

He seemed to waver for a second but she knew she had lost
her chance when his eyes hardened once again. "No, not yet.
I have to remove him and stop his hold over you.  Then
everything will be all right." He looked at his watch and
gave a resigned sigh. "No time now though. I have to go to
work but I'll be back in the morning.  I'll get rid of him
then. He won't influence you any more."

"No, no... please leave him alone. Let him go and I'll do
whatever you want."

Her begging only confirmed his hypothesis and strengthened
his resolve. "No, Sis. I'm right, I know I am. It's for the
best, you'll see."  

Then he was gone and Scully was left alone, knowing she
had failed and that in the morning, Ron would take Mulder
away from her. She tried to rouse her partner but he didn't
respond. Not that she expected him to. His breathing was
laboured and there was a definite rattle in his chest now.
She had no idea what damage had been done when Ron kicked
him. Not that it mattered, she thought. Whether he died
from internal injuries, dehydration or from the fever, he
would still be dead. 

She returned to the bed as tears of frustration fell from
her tired eyes. Damn, she had promised herself she wasn't
going to get emotional again. She was angry with herself
for indulging in useless displays of emotion, angry with
herself for reacting when Ron kicked Mulder, which she was
sure resulted in a more severe beating, but most of all,
she was angry with herself for failing to convince Ron she
would stay with him.

She went over and over the scene in her mind and the depth
of her revulsion for Ron startled her. She hated his
smiling face and promised herself that she would wipe off
that smile if it was the last thing she did. 

She forced her mind to distance herself from her feelings
for Mulder. She had to think. Ron would return in the
morning and take away the only thing that mattered to her. 

She lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. She
didn't want to live without Mulder. She just didn't and
that was one thing Ron couldn't control.

***************************************************

Basement of house
Location unknown
THE NEXT MORNING
Thursday
Sunrise

Again it was the pain that brought Mulder back to
consciousness. He couldn't draw a breath without pain
shooting thorough his chest so he resorted to shallow
pants. His head was pounding and his leg and back were
throbbing.  The thought that he was still alive dimly
registered in his brain. Then he remembered Scully, his
beautiful Scully, who said she loved him, and hazily
wondered if it had been a dream after all.  No, it had been
real... hadn't it?  He needed to talk to her but he just
didn't have the energy right now. Maybe later. He was
drifting back to sleep when he heard the key turn in the
lock.  He forced his heavy eyelids to open a little. He
shook his head and blinked twice to clear his hazy vision. 
What he saw made him cry out in anguish.

"No! Scully, no. Nooo." He sobbed, his voice no louder
than a hoarse whisper. 

The door to the cellar opened and Ron stepped into the
room, tray in hand, the gun shoved in its usual place at
his waist.  He looked at Mulder as he entered, not used to
hearing any sound from his captive.  

He followed Mulder's line of vision and saw Scully hanging
limply from a rope made from a torn up blanket, attached to
one of the pipes under the ceiling. 

He echoed Mulder's cry of "No!" Hastily, Ron dropped the
tray he was holding as he fumbled in his trousers for his
pocketknife and ran towards the bed.  

Mulder tried to drag himself towards Scully, a surge of
adrenaline fuelling his futile attempt to reach her. He
didn't stop to think that he wouldn't be able to get to
her; his fever-filled brain just knew he had to try. 

The movement caused his previously throbbing leg to
explode with pain and his body couldn't sustain the rush.
He was too weak to move more than a few inches and he fell
limply to the mattress as the world went gray around him. 

***************************************************


Basement of House
Location unknown
THE NIGHT BEFORE
Wednesday
After dark

Scully didn't know what to do. That bastard had made it
very clear that Mulder would be taken in the morning. She
lay on the bed and looked around the moonlit room for what
was probably the 100th time, trying to find something she
had missed.   

She looked up at the pipes hanging from the ceiling above
her bed. Also for the 100th time, she wished they weren't
so securely fastened to the ceiling by those heavy metal
clips or she might be able to work one loose and use it as
a weapon. Shit, even the metal clip had potential as a
weapon if she had something with which to unscrew the
bolts.  

Then an idea hit her... it just might work.  

She stood on the bed. She ignored the pain as the chain
attached to her left wrist dug into her flesh. Extending
her right arm, she stretched up to see if she could reach
the pipes above her head. Damn, she couldn't reach. There
had to be a way. 

She frantically glanced around, looking for a way to gain
some height.  Yes... the bed head.  She climbed up the iron
cross bars of the bed head and breathed a sigh of relief
when she was able to reach the pipes. Satisfied that she
could execute her plan, she climbed back down and set to
work. 

The dim light cast by the full moon was just enough for
Scully to see what she was doing. She tore the remaining
sheet into broad strips and fashioned a sort of body
harness that looked like an oversized pair of panties
except the waist of the panties would sit under her
armpits. It was similar to the type of harness used to
train trapeze artists or sky divers. She used her teeth to
help tear the blanket into strips and then plaited them
together to form a rope.  

Climbing up the bed head again, and after several
attempts, she managed to push one end of the makeshift rope
over the pipe above her head.  With a little effort, she
pushed it along until the ends cleared the side of the bed
and hung from the pipe like a piece of wet spaghetti
dangling from a fork.  So far, so good. 

She climbed down to the floor and tied one end of the rope
to the back of the harness.  Now for a trial run. She
stepped into the harness and pulled it up over her clothes.
She made a few necessary adjustments. The wide strip across
her chest supported most of her weight but the two pieces
that passed between her legs and joined the chest section
below each breast helped take a bit of the weight off her
armpits and ribcage. She hoped this would give her
deception a more realistic appearance.  Now she was ready
to test it. She pulled on the loose end of the rope and
raised herself off the floor a few inches, relieved when it
held her weight. The harness was not very comfortable but
hopefully she wouldn't have to wear it for very long.  

She climbed out of it and tied the untethered end of the
rope to the top of the iron post bed.  She double-checked
the length to make sure she wouldn't be able to touch the
floor while suspended from the ceiling and then positioned
the harness so that it was level with, and to the right, of
the bed. 

Now for the finishing touch.  

She made a hangman's noose from the last bit of sheet and
attached it to the rope hanging from the ceiling where it
joined the harness.  It was loose enough to fit over her
head and she made sure she put a knot in it so that the
noose didn't really slip tight if any pressure was applied.
She sat back to review her handiwork and go over her plan
again in her head.  Finally, deciding that there was
nothing else she could do, she settled down to wait.  If
Ron kept to his usual routine, she expected him to arrive
with her breakfast tray around dawn.  She only hoped that
the weak light of the early morning would help hide her
deception as long as possible. 

She figured she only needed at total of 15-20 seconds for
her plan to work.  It all depended on whether Ron was
shocked enough to act first and think second. The element
of surprise was a crucial factor in her calculations

Scully tried to talk to Mulder about her plan but he was
unresponsive and that made her worry even more. She
couldn't see him clearly, so she sat on the bed, listening
to his shallow breathing, comforted by the fact that he
*was* breathing. 

She didn't dare go to sleep in case her exhausted body
slept past dawn so she stayed awake all night and prayed as
she had never prayed before.  She asked God to forgive her
sins and to help her in her hour of need. She asked Him to
give her the strength to carry out her plan.  But most of
all, she begged Him to watch over Mulder and keep him safe.
 

Before the first streaks of light announced the coming
dawn, she removed her clothes and put the harness on
underneath. The top half was more difficult to deal with
because she couldn't completely remove her blouse and
jacket due to the cuff on her left wrist but she managed.
Then she checked and rechecked the knots. Not until she was
satisfied with the harness did she put her clothes on over
the top. With her blouse buttoned up to the neck, only the
noose was visible from the front.  Her hair hid the knot
where it was joined to the braided blanket. 

She rested her rear against the top of the bed head and
waited.  Just when she thought she couldn't stand the wait
any longer, she heard Ron's footsteps in the room above. 

She took a deep breath and gingerly eased herself off the
bed, allowing the harness to support her weight as she
swung freely beside the bed.  The weight of the chain
attached to her cuffed wrist actually worked in her favour
and prevented her from twirling round and round. Scully was
not stupid enough to think her ploy would fool anyone once
they took a closer look but she only needed Ron to be
distracted for a few moments. Please God, let him be
distracted.

She almost blew it when she heard Mulder cry out to her
but she forced herself to keep her head flopped to the
side, her chin almost on her chest, and prayed this gave
the desired impression.  

The sound of the door opening was followed by a thud, as
the tray fell to the floor.  She heard hurried footsteps
approach the bed.  She was sure that at any moment, Ron
would hear the pounding of her heart and realise he was
being tricked. It took all her will-power not to open her
eyes or breath heavily.

Ron raced to the bed, finally managing to pull his
pocketknife from his trousers, and grabbed her limp body.
He was shocked that this was happening. She was the one. 
He couldn't be wrong. No, she couldn't kill herself. 

He supported her weight with one arm as he reached up and
cut the braided strips of blanket with the knife held in
the other. As the sharp blade slashed through the cloth,
her weight pushed him off balance and they both crashed to
the bed. He noticed she was still warm and felt a glimmer
of hope as he leaned over her to check for a pulse. 

In that instant, she opened her eyes and grabbed the gun
still tucked in his belt.  

Before he could react, she quickly pushed herself into a
sitting position, scooting up the bed.  With her back to
the bed head, she held the gun in both hands and pointed it
at his chest. 

"Put your hands in the air and don't move," she growled. 

Ron was dumbfounded. She was alive? She had tricked him?
Daddy's words echoed through his mind.  'You're such a
stupid bastard. You got no more sense than a dumb
jackrabbit that gets caught in one of my traps.' Daddy was
laughing at him. Anger made him lunge for the gun. 

Scully pulled the trigger.  

Ron looked down in amazement as the bullet impacted his
chest, the blood staining his white shirt. He fell
backwards onto the bed, unseeing eyes staring at the
ceiling. 

Scully quickly reached over to check his pulse.  He was
dead. 

She wasted no more time thinking about the lifeless man
and quickly searched his pockets for the key to the
handcuffs. Triumphantly, she pulled a bunch of keys from
his pocket and searched through them until she found a
small key that she recognised as a cuff key. Damn! She was
shaking so badly now that it was hard to put the key in the
lock. 

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew her body was
reacting to the sudden loss of adrenaline from her
confrontation with Ron but that didn't help her trembling
fingers work any faster or make the queasy feeling in her
stomach go away. 

Taking a few deep breaths to calm herself, she finally
unlocked the cuffs. Anxious to get to Mulder, she hurriedly
climbed off the bed but fell to the ground when her shaking
legs refused to support her weight.  A wave of nausea
overcame her and she struggled to reach the basin where she
promptly vomited.  She hadn't eaten anything since the day
before so it was mostly bile.  She rinsed her mouth out
with water, silently cursing her body for wasting precious
time.  She felt so weak she had to drop to the floor and
crawl the rest of the way to her partner.

He lay on his side, his arms stretched out towards her
bed. She immediately felt for a pulse and breathed a sigh
of relief when she found a weak one. His skin was hot and
flushed, his breath coming in shallow pants as he tried to
draw air into his lungs. Damn, probably pneumonia on top of
his other injuries. She released his cuffs and gently
examined his swollen leg, noting that the skin was tight
and hot to the touch. She winced when she gently lifted the
remains of his jacket and shirt from his body and saw the
infected cuts on his back as well as purple bruises,
courtesy of Ron's boot from the night before.  She checked
for broken bones, thankful when she couldn't detect any
obvious breaks but she suspected a few cracked ribs. 

She looked over at Ron's cooling body laying on what had
been her bed.  If she hadn't already killed him, she would
have happily emptied her gun into that bastard for what
he'd done to her partner.

"Oh, Mulder," she sighed, tears springing to her eyes. She
angrily brushed them away. She leaned forward and kissed
his damp forehead, brushing a wisp of hair out of the way
as she ran her other hand down his stubbled cheek.  He
didn't respond but she needed to touch him, reconnect with
him after so many days apart.  But there was no time for
anything else. He needed a hospital and fast. 

She hated to leave him but she had to get help. She
stumbled towards the door, desperation giving her the
strength.  It seemed to take forever to climb the stairs
but she finally reached another door at the top.  The door
opened onto a small kitchen and she looked around
frantically for a telephone.  There it was, on the bench by
the back door.  

She walked unsteadily over to it and lifted the handset.
Damn, damn, damn. No dial tone.  She threw the useless
phone on the floor in frustration.
 
Please God, don't desert me now, she pleaded.  

She cautiously moved down the small hallway, looking in
each room as she passed.  It was obvious Ron didn't live in
the house, as there was a layer of dust everywhere. Later
she would think about it and realise that Ron used cousin
Will's place because it was remote and uninhabited. That
also explained why the phone was disconnected and why no
one had come to the house but at the moment her mind was
focused on getting help. 

At the end of the hallway, she opened the front door and
ventured out onto the porch. The brightness of the morning
sun after three days in the semi-darkness of the basement
caused her to squint against the glare. She could see a
dark blue van parked in front of the house. A long, unkempt
driveway disappeared into the distance.  There were no
other buildings that she could see. She screamed for help
at the top of her voice but there was no answering yell.

She slumped against the wall, banging her fists against
the wood as tears streamed down her face. It wasn't fair.
She had killed the bad guy and escaped only to be trapped
in another nightmare. She couldn't save the man she loved
because she couldn't summon help.

Stop it, she admonished herself. Stop this self-pity.
Mulder wouldn't give up and neither would she. Logically,
the van was the only way for her to get help. Damn! She had
to waste time and go back down to the basement to get the
keys.  She didn't want to leave Mulder while she went for
help but there was no other way. She couldn't carry him
even if she thought it was safe to move him, which she
didn't.

She stumbled back the way she had come, feeling sick and
unsteady on her feet.  She forced her body to keep moving
but she was completely and utterly drained. As she passed a
room on her right, she felt drawn to a desk in the corner.
Why she went into the room and opened that drawer, she
could never recall. Maybe it was the lack of dust in the
room but, whatever the reason, it probably saved Mulder's
life. For lying in the drawer, scattered amongst other
unfamiliar pieces of jewellery and personal effects, were
their belongings, including their ID's and cell phones. 

She pounced on her cell phone, sending up a silent prayer
that the battery hadn't gone flat.  She remembered turning
hers off to save the battery when they entered the diner
because Mulder had given his number to the Sheriff in case
they needed to be contacted. Her fingers shook as she
pushed the on button.  Yes! Thank you, God. There was power
and a signal. 

She dialled 911 and just about collapsed with relief when
an operator answered.  She identified herself, reported
that an officer was down and asked that they trace the call
because she didn't know the address. 

"Please hurry...the scene is secure but please hurry." She
shoved the still connected phone into her pocket before the
dispatcher could ask her any questions and headed back to
her partner as fast as she could.

***************************************************
End of part 8

Title: A New Kind of Fear
 
part 9 of 10

Author: Judie Murphy <judie@webaxs.net>

Disclaimers in part 1


Panic seized Scully as she knelt beside Mulder. He was
hardly breathing and he felt hotter than when she had left
him only a short time ago.  She immediately checked his
pulse again and cursed when it seemed weaker to her. She
didn't want to disturb the bandage on his leg or move him
too much, so all she could do was hold him until the
paramedics arrived.  She gently lifted his head and placed
it on her knees.  Not that he knew she was there but she
comforted herself with the unrealistic thought that he
wouldn't leave her while she held him in her arms. Please
God, she prayed, please don't take him from me now.  I
can't imagine my life without him, I just can't. She
pressed a soft kiss to his cracked lips but he didn't stir.

Impatient, she pulled the cell phone from her pocket and
was about to check with the dispatcher when she heard
sirens approaching.

Soon there was the sound of footsteps in the room above
and on the stairs. 

Suddenly, the room filled with agents, guns drawn.  Given
the all clear, the paramedics quickly entered the room and
headed for the two bodies entwined on the smelly mattress.
An oxygen mask was placed over Mulder's face and IV's
inserted in both arms. While one of the paramedics relayed
his vitals to the local hospital, Scully heard a familiar
voice behind her.  

"Scully?" 

She slowly turned her head to see a relieved Skinner
walking towards her at the same time as the paramedics
tried to lift Mulder from her lap. She clung to her partner
possessively, afraid to let him go. 

"We need to get him to the hospital, Ma'am."

"I know, it's just..." How could she tell them that if she
let Mulder go, she was terrified he would give up.

"Scully," Skinner said softly, placing a gentle hand on
her shoulder, "Let them do their job."  He took in her pale
face, dishevelled appearance and bloodied wrist, and added,
"You need to get to the hospital as well."

"Please, Ma'am, we have to hurry."  The urgency in the
man's voice forced her to release her partner but not
before she leaned over him and whispered in his ear. "Hold
on, Mulder.  You promised and we have some unfinished
business. Remember?" 

She kissed his hot forehead and straightened, nodding to
the paramedics and Mulder was quickly moved onto a gurney. 
She attempted to follow but found she didn't have the
strength to rise.  Firm, gentle hands helped her to her
feet and tried to direct her to a gurney but she pushed
them away.  Her eyes were focused on the flurry of activity
around her partner as he was rushed to the waiting
ambulance. There was nothing in the world more important to
her than the man who had just been taken from her. She knew
that now.  She also knew that locking her heart hadn't
stopped the pain. She only prayed that she hadn't found out
too late.

**************************************************


Springhurst General Hospital
Thursday
10.10AM 

Skinner sat in the stiff-backed hospital chair, removed
his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes.  He had arrived in
town two days ago and taken charge of the investigation
when his agents had gone missing. Thank God Scully had
escaped because the perp had fooled the local agents
completely.  Skinner blamed himself for not interviewing
Ron personally, convinced he would have seen through the
man's facade but at the same time, he knew he couldn't
handle every aspect of the case himself. Besides, such
recriminations were immaterial now. The perp was dead. 
Skinner had left the job of securing the crime scene and
removing Ron's body to the local boys so that he could be
with his agents.

He was worried about Scully. She had refused every attempt
to have her own injuries tended to at the scene and had
almost assaulted a paramedic who tried to force the issue
and prevent her from accompanying her partner.  Luckily for
the EMT, Skinner had intervened and Scully had been helped
into the ambulance where she immediately sat down beside
Mulder. 

The ride to the hospital must have been Scully's worst
nightmare, he thought, knowing Mulder had arrested in the
ambulance after suffering a seizure brought on by his high
temperature.  Only the quick action of the paramedics, and
their close proximity to the hospital, had brought him
back. When his condition had stabilized in the ER, he had
been rushed to the OR but that was hours ago and no one had
been out to tell them what was happening.

The AD kept an eye on Scully as she sat huddled in the
chair with a blanket over her shoulders.  He had managed to
get her to drink some coffee but she was still refusing
medical treatment until there was news of Mulder. There
were black rings under her eyes and Skinner wondered when
she had last slept, or eaten for that matter. She had given
him a brief summary of what had happened and he could only
imagine what it must have been like for her to watch
helplessly as her partner had been shot and beaten in front
of her. He wanted to get a more detailed statement but one
look at her flushed face and he decided it could wait. Her
eyes never left the double doors on their right. If Mulder
had another seizure or died ... well, he didn't want to
think about that.  

He watched as Scully leaned forward and rubbed her lower
back as if it was bothering her.  No wonder, he thought,
considering how she had fooled the perp with that harness.
Even *his* back ached just thinking about wearing it but it
had worked. Her idea had been nothing short of brilliant
and he would be putting in a commendation for her
resourcefulness and ingenuity at the first opportunity.

He wondered how much longer she would last before she
collapsed but was at a loss to know what to do about it. 
She could be a very stubborn lady when she set her mind to
it and he knew from past experience that she would refuse
to leave the waiting room until there was news of Mulder.   
After a few more minutes, Skinner decided that enough was
enough.  He would try and talk to her again but if she
still ignored him, he would order her to get medical
attention and be damned with her rights.  Hell, that was
better than watching her fade before his eyes.

Before he could carry out his thought, there was the sound
of automatic doors opening, and a man in scrubs headed
towards them.  

"Excuse me," he said, approaching them.  "I'm Dr. Sumner
and I'm looking for Dana Scully, Agent Mulder's next of kin."

Scully seemed to get a surge of strength was somewhere and
stood up, her attention focused on the man who could tell
her about her partner.

"I'm Dr. Scully." She used her medical title because she
didn't want him to pull any punches.

The doctor nodded and then looked at Skinner, who quickly
introduced himself as he rose to stand beside Scully.

Scully asked impatiently, "How is he?"

"Well, as you know he arrested in the ambulance."

Both of them nodded.

"His temp was 104 on admission but it's dropped a degree
since then. He regained consciousness in the ER on his way
to surgery.  His LOC was altered but..." the Doctor stopped
when he saw the puzzled frown cross Skinner's face.

"I'm sorry, that means he was a bit out of it, but the
good news is that he doesn't appear to have suffered any
brain damage as a result of the seizure." 

Skinner nodded his thanks and looked worriedly at Scully,
who was swaying slightly, her hands clasped tightly at her
side. The bloodstained makeshift bandage around her left
wrist was a sharp contrast to her pale skin but her eyes
never left the doctor's face as he continued his report.

"Agent Mulder received two units of blood during surgery. 
He probably won't need any more. He was anaemic and
severely dehydrated when admitted but that's being
corrected with IV fluids as we speak. He has pneumonia in
both lungs, which we are treating with antibiotics.  There
is severe bruising on his torso, arms and legs. 
Thankfully, his ribs are only badly bruised - that would
have complicated the pneumonia and he doesn't need that. We
have him on a respirator right now to help him breathe but
we'll probably remove it this evening. He's sedated at
present so he doesn't fight the tube and to help him cope
with the pain."

"He doesn't react well to anaesthetic.  He usually
vomits." Scully interrupted. 

The doctor nodded, making a note on the chart.

"He has a nasogastric tube in so we'll leave that in for
the moment. The through and through bullet wound to his
upper right thigh didn't hit bone or any major vessels,
thankfully." 

He looked up and smiled, pleased to be able to deliver
some good news.

"It was badly infected but we cleaned that up in the OR
and I've started Agent Mulder on a course of antibiotics. 
As for his back, the lash wounds are superficial as are the
cuts around his wrists.  They were also infected but again,
nothing the antibiotics can't clear up.  He'll be
uncomfortable for a while but he'll heal. We've done all we
can at this point in time. It's up to him now. Since you're
a doctor, I'm sure you are aware of what we can expect in
the way of complications."

Scully nodded, although at the moment, she couldn't think
past the throbbing in her head and the fact that her
partner was alive.  If she could just be with him, he would
fight any complications.  Mulder had promised to hold on
for her and she was damn well going to make sure he did. "I
need to see him."

"Later, when we move him to the ICU.  He's still in
recovery right now."

"No, you don't understand. I ..."

"Easy," Skinner interrupted. "Come on, Scully, you
promised that you would let them look at you the moment we
heard about Mulder.  You need to have your own injuries
looked at and there isn't anything more we can do until
he's in a room. You..."   

He trailed off when he noticed that she was shivering even
worse than before, with beads of perspiration dotting her
forehead. He mentally kicked himself when it occurred to
him that her face was flushed, not only because she was
worried and upset, but because she was running a
temperature. Even as that thought registered, Scully's eyes
rolled back in her head and he caught her before she hit
the floor.

Skinner gently carried her to a gurney and watched as she
was whisked away to the ER. He attempted to follow the
gurney but a nurse shook her head and closed the double
doors.  He stood in the hallway, head bowed, blaming
himself for not insisting Scully get medical treatment
sooner.  If it was anything serious, he knew Mulder would
never forgive him.  Hell, he wouldn't forgive himself!  

For the next hour, he paced the hall outside the ER,
looking up as nurses came and went but none of them would
tell him how his agent was. Finally, he was relieved to
hear Scully's voice, soft at first but then louder. There
was no mistaking the one anguished word that could be heard
above all other sounds. MULDER!  After another minute, a
male voice, calm and reassuring, could be heard, although
Skinner couldn't make out his words. Then the sound of a
something metallic hitting the floor, followed by Scully's
voice, softer this time but still calling for her partner. 

Skinner was just about to force his way into the cubicle
and find out what the hell they were doing to his agent
when the doctor appeared, carrying a chart in his hands,
making notes as he walked.

Doctor Allen, according to his nametag, looked up as
Skinner approached and offered his hand.

"I'm Assistant Director Skinner with the F.B.I. and I'm
waiting for news about one of my agents, Dana Scully."

"Ahhh, yes, I just had the pleasure of speaking with your
agent.  She's certainly strong-willed, isn't she?" he said
with a wry smile, returning Skinner's firm handshake.

At Skinner's questioning look, he continued. "She was in
and out of consciousness for an hour or so but she came
round about 5 minutes ago."

"Will she be all right?" Skinner asked worriedly.

"Yes, if she stays flat in bed. Her blood pressure is low,
80 over 50 and she has a temperature of 102 right now.
She's dehydrated and I've started an intravenous drip to
replace the fluids.  I treated the lacerations to her left
wrist and, while infected, they should heal without too
much trouble."  He referred to the chart in his hands. "She
exhibited some right flank tenderness on examination, so I
ran some blood tests. She has a lot of white blood cells in
her urine and the WBC count in her blood is high. I'm
fairly certain she has a kidney infection and I've started
her on a course of antibiotics.  I've been told that she
and her partner were held against their will in a basement
in the hills?"  He looked at Skinner and frowned when the
A.D. confirmed the story with a sharp nod. "Well, the lack
of decent food and fluids combined with the stress of her
ordeal is a perfect breeding ground for this sort of
infection. She admitted that she had some lower back pain."

Skinner nodded as he remembered seeing her rub her lower
back when they were waiting for news of Mulder. "What's her
prognosis?"

"I expect her to make a full recovery.  I'd like to admit
her and keep her on IV fluids and antibiotics for at least
24 hours but ..."

"But what?"

"Well, I'm not sure she'll want to stay in bed and rest
when she wakes up.  She wasn't very cooperative in the ER
just now. I told her to lay flat because if she tried to
sit or stand up, she could pass out again. I might as well
have save my breath because she ignored my medical advice
and tried to get up, calling for someone named 'Mulder'.
She nearly passed out again and became so agitated that I
had to sedate her for her own good. Of course, if she'd
listened to me, we could have avoided that. And to think,
someone told me she was a doctor," he said, shaking his
head. "I expect her to be out for at least eight to ten
hours. She sure was determined to get to this 'Mulder'.  Is
he her partner?"

"Yes, he's just come out of surgery and is in ICU,"
replied Skinner as he sighed tiredly. From experience, he
knew that keeping Scully down when she woke up was going to
be almost impossible. He'd often wondered how far the
relationship between his two agents had gone but since it
hadn't affected their solve rate, he'd decided not to
interfere.  During his years with the Bureau, he'd seen
many close relationships develop between partners but those
two had something special. They loved each other, he was
sure of that.  He just wasn't sure if they knew it yet or
if they'd acted on it.  "I don't envy you when she wakes
up. You have no idea how determined she can be."

Doctor Allen smiled knowingly. "I have a feeling I'm going
to find out. Don't worry; I can be pretty stubborn too. The
antibiotics should clear up the infection in no time. I've
put her on a full liquid diet and if she tolerates the
fluids, she can progress to a soft diet later tonight. If
all goes well, she can visit her partner later tomorrow
provided her blood pressure is back to normal. Don't worry;
we'll take good care of her.  She'll be taken to a room
shortly and you can sit with her if you like."

"Thank you, doctor. I appreciate all you've done." 

The doctor shook hands with Skinner again and tucked the
chart under his arm as he continued down the hall.

Skinner stood and looked at the closed doors to the ER. He
hesitated, not knowing what to do for the best. He was torn
between wanting to stay with Scully and wanting to check up
on Mulder. Coming to a decision, Skinner walked to the
nurse's desk and told the nurse where he'd be and asked
that he be kept informed about the condition of his female
agent. Then he headed back to the surgical floor.  He knew
the best way to help Scully was to make sure Mulder wasn't
alone, and he intended to do just that. 

***************************************************

Springhurst General Hospital
Thursday
3.15PM
4 hours later 

Awareness slowly seeped into Mulder's brain. He recognized
the hazy floating feeling that told him he'd been sedated
and was on heavy painkillers. He heard the beeping of a
heart monitor and smelled the unmistakeable sterilized
smells that he associated with a hospital. Damn, how did he
get here this time?  What happened? 

God, he felt fuzzy. A part of him wanted to give in to the
drugs and sleep but he needed to see Scully so he fought
his way up through the fog.  He twitched his hands and felt
the pull of IV's in both of them. Fuck, probably had a
catheter as well. His leg and back hurt a little but he
just couldn't bring himself to care. He tried to swallow
but couldn't.  Then he gagged and felt as if he couldn't
breathe. He knew that feeling.  A respirator. Shit, he
hated those things worse than catheters. 

"He's waking up but he shouldn't be. He should have been
out for at least another hour. Get the doctor stat," an
unfamiliar voice said.

He vaguely registered the sound of the monitors beeping
even louder as a hand touched his shoulder.

"Relax, Agent Mulder. Just let the machine breathe for
you." A different voice this time. Wait a minute. Where was
Scully?  

The drugs were pulling him down again and he really wanted
to sink back into the darkness but not until he made sure
Scully was all right.  He blinked slowly and tried to focus
on the blur beside his bed, expecting to see his partner. 
Instead of Scully, a sandy-haired man wearing glasses, with
a stethoscope hanging around his shoulders, came into view. 

"Don't try to talk, Agent Mulder. You're going to be fine." 

Like hell he was. Not until he saw Scully, but where was
she? She was always by his side when he woke up in the
hospital.  Had she been hurt too?  He shifted his gaze from
the man and his eyes searched the room, looking for his
partner. Where was she?  Something was wrong.  When Mulder
couldn't find her, he panicked. 

A man's voice said, "He's fighting the tube. Let's
extubate. O2 mask at 4 litres."

Within minutes the tube was removed and Mulder was
breathing on his own with a mask over his face. 

He kept asking about Scully but his throat was so sore
that his voice came out as a whisper, which couldn't be
heard due to the mask over his face. He thrashed around,
trying to get someone's attention but that only made the
pain in his leg explode a hundred-fold. He moaned and
clenched his eyes shut against the agony now radiating from
his thigh but he persisted, wanting an answer. Why wouldn't
anyone answer him?

"He's very agitated, doctor, and seems to be in a lot of
pain."

"Give him 4mg morphine IV."

Mulder shook his head and tried to cry out that he didn't
want anything, that he only wanted Scully but they
misunderstood. Then he heard a woman's voice in his ear
again.

"It's okay, Agent Mulder.  You'll feel better in a moment.
You need to rest."

No, he didn't want to rest and feel better; he just wanted
Scully. Something cold flowed into his veins and that was
the last thing he remembered for quite a while.

***************************************************

Springhurst General Hospital
Thursday 
11.40PM
8 Hours later 

Mulder woke when he felt himself being half-turned onto
his left side and the dull pain in his right leg increased.
A nasal cannula under his nose had replaced the oxygen
mask. He took a quick inventory of where he hurt but
decided he ached all over. Even breathing was difficult. He
tried to remember what had happened but, as usual, the
drugs had turned his brain to mush. Shit, he hated this
hazy, disconnected feeling. 

Someone adjusted his bedding and he vaguely registered the
sound of whispered voices, both male and female, over the
beeping of the heart monitor, and then a door closing.

He forced his heavy eyelids to open and looked into the
face of a very worried Skinner. 

Mulder blinked again, eyes looking around the room,
searching for his partner. She wasn't there. 

"W-where's ...Scully?" 

Skinner leaned forward at the sound of Mulder's hoarse
voice; relieved to see his agent had regained consciousness
at last.  Mulder had been drifting in and out since being
moved to the ICU but this was the first time Skinner had
seen any sort of recognition in his agent's eyes.   

"Shh, Mulder, save your voice. You're going to be OK. How
do you feel?"

Mulder licked his lips and rasped, "Thirsty."

His boss reached for the ice chips and spooned a few into
his mouth.  With a little moisture to lubricate his sore
throat, Mulder looked at his boss and tried again, "Where's
... Scully?" 

He saw the guilty look cross Skinner's face. His mind
worked backwards and as he remembered, his heart felt as if
someone had taken hold of it and squeezed. His mind's eye
saw Scully hanging limply from the ceiling of that
basement. Noooo! It couldn't be true.  

"I'm sorry, Mulder.  Scully's..." began Skinner, but
stopped in mid sentence when he saw the look of anguish on
his agent's pale face.

Mulder's mind finished the sentence for him. Dead,
Scully's dead. His eidetic memory had replayed the hazy
sight of Scully hanging from the ceiling. It hadn't been a
nightmare after all and, suddenly, he found it very
difficult to breathe.  His lungs refused to take in air as
he shook his head from side to side.

No...Nooo, she wouldn't do that. It was against everything
she believed in. She couldn't be dead. Why had she killed
herself?  Then he remembered her words: "I'd rather kill
myself than let that bastard win. I won't watch you die and
then wait for him to kill me." Did she think he was dead?
Is that why she'd done it?

His mind continued to replay the image of her limp body,
suspended from that ceiling. His body racked with sobs as
the tears streamed down his face. He saw Skinner's mouth
move but he couldn't make out the words above the pounding
in his head and the racing of his heart. 

"Shh...calm down, Mulder," Skinner pleaded, as the
monitors sounded their dire warnings. 

Mulder's eyes glazed over and his lips silently formed the
words 'no... Scully... no', over and over.

It only took a moment for Skinner to realise that his
agent had jumped to the wrong conclusion. He had been
trying to explain that he was sorry for not taking better
care of Scully, that she had been admitted but that she
would be all right.  One look at the younger man's face
told him his words weren't getting through. 

A nurse rushed into the room, alerted by the readouts at
the nurse's station. A doctor and another nurse quickly
followed her.

Skinner moved out of the way as the doctor checked his
patient's vitals and gave terse instructions to the second
nurse, who then rushed from the room.

"What's going on here?" the doctor demanded. 

Without giving the A.D. a chance to reply, he turned his
attention to the wide-eyed, unblinking man on the bed who
had set off every alarm in the room.  

"You have to calm down, Mr. Mulder," he said. "Try and
relax. We're getting something to help you rest." 

The nurse returned with a syringe and quickly injected the
sedative into the IV line. 

Mulder was oblivious to it all. He just stared at a point
over Skinner's shoulder, repeating 'no' over and over in a
hoarse whisper.  Finally, he slowly blinked twice and
closed his eyes as the drug took effect.  

***************************************************
End part 9.

Title: A New Kind of Fear
 
part 10 of 10

Author: Judie Murphy <judie@webaxs.net>

Disclaimers in part 1


Springhurst General Hospital
Friday
6.30 AM
7 hours later

Mulder didn't want to open his eyes when he woke. As long
as he kept them closed, he could pretend it was all a bad
dream and Scully would be sitting in her usual place beside
his bed.  But he couldn't kid himself.  He always knew when
she was near and he couldn't sense her presence. 

Why hadn't he told her how he felt about her, how
important she was to him and how much he loved her?  It was
too late now. He was always too late when it came to the
things that mattered.  He was too late to save his sister,
too late to save his father, and too late to save the woman
he loved with every fibre of his being.  He dimly
remembered Scully telling him that she loved him in the
same way that he loved her, but had that been real?  It
didn't matter. Nothing mattered any more. Scully was dead.

He vaguely wondered why he was so calm about it all but
some distant part of his brain decided the doctors must
have pumped him full of sedatives to prevent him from
becoming emotional again and hurting himself.  Like he cared?

Somewhere, another part wondered how he had been rescued
and what had happened to their kidnapper but he decided he
didn't care about that either. They should have left him
there to die with her. He was as good as dead anyway. His
rescuers had only delayed the inevitable since he refused
to go on without Scully. God, she must have been so
desperate. Even with the sedative in his system, his heart
rate must have increased a little at the thought of his
partner because the monitors betrayed him.  

"Mulder, are you awake?"

Skinner shook his shoulder, gently but firmly, insisting
that Mulder acknowledge him. "Mulder, the monitors are
rising. I know you're awake. I have to talk to you." 

Mulder slowly opened his eyes and stared blankly at his
boss. "Why did ... you bring me ... back? Should've let me
... die in that basement."  

Skinner leaned forward in his seat to make sure he had
Mulder's full attention. "Well, I think Scully would have
kicked my ass if I had." 

"How can you ... say that?  She's dead. Oh, God, she's
dead." He bit his bottom lip and closed his eyes. One look
at the monitors told Skinner he had better talk fast before
the nurses came running again.  

"Listen to me. Scully's NOT dead. She's here in this
hospital, recovering from a kidney infection, some minor
cuts and exhaustion, but very much alive." 

Mulder opened his eyes and stared at him, not daring to
believe it was true. 

"She's alive?" 

Skinner nodded. "I was trying to tell you before that I
was sorry I didn't look after her better. It was my fault
she collapsed because I let her bully everyone, myself
included, into waiting until you were out of danger before
letting anyone treat her. I should have insisted she get
treatment but... well... your partner can be very
persuasive when she wants something." 

Hope flared in Mulder's heart; that certainly sounded like
Scully. 

"But, I saw her... hanging from the ceiling...in that
house..."

"It was a ploy to distract the perp so Scully could take
him down. Which she did, by the way. Look, Mulder, I'm not
surprised you're confused. You were pretty much out of it
when we found you, but I give you my word that Scully is
alive.  She was emotionally and physically drained when we
arrived in that basement.  Right now, they've got her
sedated because it's the only way to get her to rest. She
refused to leave your side.  She's a real tiger when it
comes to looking out for you, you know."

A tentative half smile broke out on Mulder's face at that
comment. Scully alive? Skinner wouldn't lie about something
as important as this but maybe she was sicker than Skinner
thought. He needed to see her for himself.  The throbbing
in his leg was becoming unbearable and his throat, chest,
back and ribs had decided to add to his discomfort, but he
had to see her. He turned pleading, pain-filled eyes on his
boss.

"Is she all right?  What aren't ... you telling me?  I
have to ... see her." 

Skinner sighed.  Why had he thought it would be any easier
keeping Mulder from Scully than it was keeping Scully from
Mulder? 

"She has a fever and a kidney infection but the doctor is
treating her with antibiotics and expects her to make a
full recovery. I was just down in her room and she's
sleeping peacefully. I'm sure she'll explain everything to
you later, but right now, both of you are confined to bed."

"I have ... to see her," repeated Mulder stubbornly, his
eyes at half-mast now.  The conversation had exhausted him
and he was fading fast. "I just ... need to know ... she's
all right ... see her ...." His voice trailed off as he
fell asleep, his weakened body winning this particular
battle of wills.

Skinner watched his agent for a few minutes and, when he
was satisfied that Mulder would sleep for a while, he
decided to see if he could spring Scully. Something told
him she had better be here when Mulder woke up again.

***************************************************

Springhurst General Hospital
Friday
12.15AM
6 hours later 

Scully sat beside Mulder's bed, touching him continuously.
She couldn't get enough of the feel of him after days of
not being able to get near him.  She ran her fingers over
his recently shaved cheeks and smoothed the soft hair from
his brow. 

She had studied his chart and finally allowed herself to
believe he was going to be all right. He looked 100% better
than the last time she'd seen him. One of the IV's and the
nasal cannula had been removed.  His temp was almost back
to normal. His lungs had cleared considerably over the last
24 hours thanks to the antibiotics he was receiving but he
was still as pale as the white sheet that covered his
battered body. His leg was elevated and was also responding
to the antibiotics. She had been assured that, provided he
worked hard at his physiotherapy, he would make a full
recovery. 

She took comfort in listening to his steady heartbeat even
if his breathing was still a little shallow. For once, he
had escaped any of the complications the doctor had been
worried about and for that she'd heaved a sigh of relief.
All in all, he was making amazing progress and should be
released within a week. 

She was also recovering well which was remarkable
considering her lack of co-operation.  She was hazy about
her time in the ER but a nurse told her that she had acted
like a crazy woman, trying to get to her partner. She
sighed. No wonder the doctor had sedated her. And of
course, when she woke up, she had immediately tried to get
out of bed, frantic for news of her partner and promptly
ended up on the floor. Forced to accept her body's
limitations, she had reluctantly agreed to stay in bed for
24 hours but only after Skinner brought Mulder's doctor to
her bedside to give her a full report on her partner's
condition. Then, with the help of a sedative, she had slept
through the night and awoke feeling almost normal. 

She gave a half smile as she remembered the rather heated
conversation she had with her doctor this morning when
Skinner let slip that Mulder thought she was dead. No one
was going to keep her from Mulder after that and it was
lucky for the doctor that Skinner had been in the room.  So
here she was, sitting in a wheelchair, tracing her fingers
over Mulder's face, waiting for those hazel eyes to open.  

Mulder sighed contentedly. Someone was stroking his hair,
brushing it away from his forehead, and then gently running
their hand down the side of his face, across his lips and
up the other side. No ... not someone.  Scully!  He'd know
her touch anywhere. He leaned his face into her hand and
his mouth curved into a smile even though his eyelids
remained closed. 

"Mulder?  Come on, open your eyes for me."

He turned his head towards her voice, opened his eyes and
was rewarded with one of her dazzling smiles. 

He opened his mouth to say something but she immediately
spooned some ice chips into his mouth while her other hand
never broke contact with his cheek.  As the ice melted and
soothed his parched throat, he just stared at her, drinking
in the sight of her.


She was sitting beside his bed, looking at him worriedly. 
She was dressed in scrubs and had a bandage around her left
wrist and a bandaid on the back of her right hand but
otherwise she looked beautiful. 

"Scully, are you ... all right?"

She nodded and flashed another dazzling smile at him. 
Wow, two smiles in the space of a few minutes.  Either he
was sicker than he thought or she was very pleased to see
him.

"Are you in any pain?" she wanted to know.

He thought about it for a moment and shook his head. There
was a sort of dull ache building in his thigh but there was
no way he was going to be doped up again until he sorted
out what was a dream and what really happened. He glanced
down at his leg, propped up and covered in bandages. 

"What's the damage?" he asked nervously. 

Scully filled him in and then closed her eyes momentarily.
The horror of that ambulance ride when he arrested was
still fresh in her mind.

"It was close, Mulder, too close." She dropped her gaze
but not before he saw tears spring to her eyes.

He reached out and clasped her hands but she still
wouldn't meet his gaze. "I know, I thought you were dead,"
he whispered.  

She blinked the tears away and finally looked into his
eyes and wished she hadn't when she saw the anguish he'd
felt in that basement reflected back at her. "I'm sorry
about that. Skinner told me. I tried to wake you to tell
you what I planned to do but I couldn't rouse you.  I blew
it with Ron the night before and he was going to kill you. 
I was desperate. I came up with the plan to fake my own
hanging. I'm just lucky it worked."

"Sshh, it's okay. From what Skinner tells me, you saved us
both. *Again*. I don't want to relive it all now. I just
want to look at you and know that you're real." 

He lifted her hand to his lips, tenderly kissing each
fingertip. Then he reached out and ran his fingers over her
face, reassuring himself that she wasn't a dream. He tilted
her chin up and looked into her eyes. When she returned his
gaze, he saw that look again. The one he sometimes saw that
made him think she might really care for him like he cared
for her. It reminded him of another, happier dream.
Something about loving him and wanting him to hold on for
her.

"Scully, I umm...in the basement ...I had this dream and
umm... I just wondered . . ." He faltered, not knowing
whether to confess his dream to her. 

She smiled to herself.  She had wondered if he would
remember her declaration of love but then, knowing Mulder,
she should have expected his memory to retain at least a
part of their conversation even though he had been
delirious at the time.  The question was, how much did he
remember?

"What do you wonder?" She wanted to know what he
remembered first and then she would fill in the blanks for
him. She wasn't about to let their relationship go back to
the way it had been before. Not after nearly losing him
again. 

His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed
nervously. He decided he must have imagined the whole thing
and, even if he hadn't, he suspected she would say anything
to keep him alive.  She had made it quite clear in the past
that she was happy with their platonic relationship and he
wouldn't risk that for anything, not even to tell her how
his world had been shattered and filled with regrets when
he thought she was dead. Time to retreat gracefully so
everything could go back to normal.

"Hmm, well I was pretty out of it, I guess. It doesn't
matter."

"You wondered if the part where I said I loved you was a
dream or not."

He looked at her, stunned, and then a slow smile spread
across his face. "Yeah, I guess you just answered my
question." His smile faded and he became serious again.
"Did you mean it or were you just giving me something to
hold onto?"

Scully watched him gnaw on his bottom lip, a sure sign he
was nervous and she knew she had to get this right. He was
as afraid to risk the status quo as she had been.  

Her eyes locked with his and Mulder's heart gave a tug
when he saw the love he felt for her reflected back at him.
He forced himself to remain calm and wait for her to speak. 

"I meant it. I love you," she whispered as she squeezed
his hand in hers. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears as
she continued. "You nearly died and I was helpless to do
anything about it. At the end, I was stuck in that basement
with nothing but my thoughts for company.  I finally
admitted to myself that I would be lost without you. Ironic
isn't it? I had to nearly lose you to realise that my
greatest fear *was* losing you.  It was selfish of me, I
realise that now. I wanted to spare myself the pain that's
inevitable when someone you love dies.  I built a thick
wall around my heart, believing it would protect me."

She stroked his lips with her fingers, shushing him when
he tried to interrupt. "I asked myself if what we had was
enough. If the walls I had built around my heart would
protect me if I lost you. Do you know what the answer was?"

This must be a dream, thought Mulder, suddenly afraid he
really was asleep and the dream would end and he would wake
up. But when he blinked, she was still there, looking at
him with intense, blue eyes waiting for his reply. He shook
his head slowly, his whole being focused on her answer.

"It wasn't enough. The walls would shatter and the
fragments would pierce my heart.  I would die with you
whether we were lovers or not. I realise now that loving
you actually makes me complete. I want to know what it is
to love you and not be afraid of what might happen in the
future.  If you were ever taken from me, I want more than a
handful of memories. I want it all."
 
Mulder was speechless. She loved him and wanted to be with
him. He certainly loved her, but could he risk what they
had for what she was offering? Could he have another
relationship with a co-worker and make it work?  Before he
finished the thought, he knew the answer. He'd been in love
before but not like this. He had never loved or needed any
woman the way he wanted Scully. Whatever she offered, he
would take and be damn grateful, but first he had to be
sure she knew what she was getting herself into. 

"I've built a few walls myself, Scully. We're both pretty
intense when it comes to our work and I guess I'm afraid to
have another relationship with someone I work with. You
know how I suck at relationships."

"I think I know what I'm letting myself in for."

"I'm not kidding when I say loving me won't be easy."

"Nothing worthwhile ever is."

"I want this so bad, Scully, but if we take this step, I
don't know where it will lead."

"But I know where I hope it will. And Mulder, it'll lead
us nowhere if we don't give it a try."

He looked at her hesitantly, entwining her hands in his.
"You've suffered so much because of me. I'm afraid I'll
just hurt you more."

"Oh, Mulder. Don't you know that not being loved hurts
more?  Maybe we can find a way to love each other without
hurting each other. I'm willing to try if you are."

His mouth twitched in the faintest of smiles. "You've got
an answer for everything, haven't you?"

"You'd better believe it, Mulder. I had a lot of time to
think in that basement.  You're just playing catch-up."

He returned her wide smile. There was no going back now,
not that he wanted to. He looked into her eyes and was
about to tell her how much he loved her when he realised
she already knew. He gently tugged her towards him. "Come
here."

"I'll hurt you."

"Trust me, I'll let you know when it hurts."

She allowed him to draw her up and across until her hip
rested on the edge of his bed.  He pulled her closer to
him, his lips soft and gentle as he kissed her. He wanted
to draw her even closer and deepen the kiss but his still-
healing lungs wouldn't cooperate and he had to pull away, a
bit short of breath. He dropped his head back to the pillow
and looked into the worried eyes of his partner.  He gave
her a half smile, hoping to reassure her as he concentrated
on his breathing.  There was so much more he wanted to say
to her but he found it hard to think past the throbbing
pain in his leg that he couldn't ignore any more.  "I'm ...
sorry, Scully." 

She saw the pain lines around his eyes and mouth and
rolled her eyes, exasperated that he thought he should
apologise. "It's okay, Mulder. I'll take a rain check. You
need to rest." 

Scully shushed him when he tried to say something and
slipped off the edge of the bed. She pressed the buzzer and
asked for his pain meds.

Within minutes, an efficient looking nurse entered the
room carrying a syringe on a tray, which she placed on the
side table while she took his vitals and wrote them in his
chart.  Satisfied, she emptied the contents of the syringe
into the IV and quietly left the room.

Mulder's face relaxed a little as the medication took
effect. He patted the bed and gestured for Scully to join
him. If he couldn't kiss her then he damn well wanted to
hold her.

Scully hesitated a moment, not wanting to hurt him but
decided she needed the contact as much as he did.  She lay
down beside him, her head resting on his shoulder, careful
of his bruised ribs. He laid his cheek on top of her hair
and rubbed his nose against her earlobe, inhaling her
scent. Both of them sighed contentedly, happier than they
had been in a very long time. 

"Where do we go from here?" he asked, yawning loudly.

"Well, you have to work hard at your physiotherapy and
then I have a promise to keep."

"What promise ... would that be?"

"I promised to show you just how much I love you and I
intend to keep that promise, even if it takes me a lifetime."

"No time ... like the present, Scully," he whispered as he
nibbled her ear but the effect was lost as he tried to
smother another yawn.

"Down boy," she purred. "I need you fighting fit for what
I have in mind."

"Oooh, you know ...what...I...like."

Scully grinned, knowing Mulder had drifted off to sleep
despite himself, courtesy of the painkiller he was on.  She
knew she should get up and let him sleep but she just
wanted to lay in his arms for a few minutes more before she
headed back to her own room.

That was how AD Skinner found them when he arrived to
check on his agents 10 minutes later. He had called in to
return Scully's cross which had been found at the perp's
house along with their other personal belongings. He knew
she would want it sooner rather than later but one look at
the two of them in each other's arms and he decided it
could wait. The possessive way they held each other and the
smiles still on their lips told him everything he needed to
know.  He left the room quietly, a thoughtful expression on
his face. He had to think of a way to keep his best team
together and smiled when he decided that being an AD was a
definite advantage.

THE END
If you like it, please send feedback to judie@webaxs.net