From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: 28 Feb 2005 03:31:28 -0000
Subject: Robbed 1_2 by Mary Kleinsmith
Source: direct

Reply To: Buc252@aol.com


Robbed 1/2
By Mary Kleinsmith (Buc252@adelphia.net)

Category:   Missing Scene, Sort of AU, and the 
slightest hint of MSR
Rating:  Should be okay for anybody over 10 (Happy 
now, MPAA?) 
Spoilers:  Theef
Summary:  What if it had been Mulder who'd been 
blinded in that last scene instead of Scully?
Acknowledgments:  Thank you to Laura and Obfusc8ter 
for the wonderful and quick betas.
Author's Notes:  Written for After_The_Fact's Theef 
Challenge.  Sorry it took so long to finish, but I 
did my best. 


Robbed
By Mary Kleinsmith (Buc252@adelphia.net)

He had them right where he wanted them, Peattie thought, 
and now the so-called medical man would pay.  A more 
educated man might have quoted the passage about revenge 
being a dish best served cold, but Oral Peattie's 
education was centered more on folk cures and spells 
than on literature and grammar.  It suited him, though, 
and at one time, it had suited his daughter Lynnette as 
well.  But that time was long in the past.

Now, he'd nearly finished what he came to the city to 
accomplish.  The father-in-law and the wife were 
dead.  The daughter would be next, followed by her 
father, the man who, in Peattie's eyes, was to blame 
for it all.  The two of them were hiding inside the 
cabin he watched from nearby, along with the FBI 
woman who he knew had been pursuing him.  At least 
she was alone - her meddlesome partner was nowhere to 
be seen.

But he was prepared for them both, nonetheless.  His 
thin-boned hand clenched around the poppets in his 
fist, two for the remaining Wieders and two for the 
federal agents who were trying to keep him from 
having his revenge.  It had been easy enough.  The 
red-haired woman's car had held a photo of herself 
and, buried deeper, one of her partner.  Brown hair 
on the passenger seat's headrest and red on the 
driver's.  It was all he needed.

The shrubbery provided an adequate hiding place, 
letting the three inside get comfortable.  Nobody 
could see him in his hiding place, and wouldn't until 
he wanted them to.  Then, he'd make a noise . . . 
draw the woman out . . . and he'd be free to sneak in 
and finish what he'd started:  The dissolution of the 
Wieder family.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Peattie was on to her.  Mulder's words rang in his 
own ears, reminding him of Scully's desperate 
position.  She didn't believe the supernatural things 
of which Peattie was capable, but he knew.  He 
believed.  Two dead members of the Wieder family were 
more than enough proof for him.

He pulled up behind Scully's car, his eyes alert for 
any movement not coming from within, but all that 
greeted him was the darkness of night.  No stars or 
moon even shone in the sky, leaving a blackness so 
solid he could only see the lights where they beamed 
from the cabin windows.  He momentarily longed for 
that light, that comfort.  The feel of Scully's arms 
about him lending safety as nothing else.

So dark was it that he almost missed the damage to 
Scully's car.  However, he stopped abruptly when he 
drew abreast.  There was no mistaking the shards of 
glass, which were the only remains of her passenger 
window.  Was he too late?

Pulling a small flashlight from his pocket, he shone 
it at the interior, where the glove compartment gaped 
open.  Scully would never have left it like that, he 
thought, the fear strong in his throat.  He was sure 
now that Peattie had gotten here before him, but was 
the house quiet because the Appalachian man had 
already gotten to his next victims, or because he 
hadn't gotten into the house yet at all?

There was only one way to find out.

Hoping to God that the way was without obstacles, he 
began to race towards the cabin.  With every step, 
his concern grew, his hearing trying to overcome the 
pounding of the blood in his ears.  He couldn't see 
anything either, but he squinted all the same.

He hadn't covered half the distance when a sharp pain 
lanced through both his eyes, nearly sending him to 
his knees.  He rubbed them hard, the pain eased a 
bit, and he blinked as it improved even more.  In the 
near-fall, he'd gotten turned around, and he searched 
in the darkness for the windows that would lead him 
back to the cabin.  Spinning three hundred sixty 
degrees, he could no longer see them.  

Peattie must have figured out how to cut the power, 
he thought, flicking the switch on his flashlight, 
but its batteries had apparently gone dead, for no 
light emanated from it.    What else could go wrong?

At least the backup he'd actually called for should 
be arriving shortly, he thought, wondering at the 
time.  Looking at his watch, he fingered the button 
that would light up its face and give him the time.  
He pushed it once, and then again.  What the hell . . 
.

Suddenly, it hit him what was going on. He was blind.  
Blind!  But he couldn't let it keep him from helping 
Scully.

He heard a sound . . . a click like the opening of a 
door . . . and he used it to zero in on the cabin.  
Whether it was Scully coming out or somebody more 
nefarious going in, it let him find the house.  

The walk was frustrating, slower than it should have 
been.  Normally, he'd have taken it at a slow gallop, 
but this time, he couldn't risk falling or turning an 
ankle.  He had to get there before something happened 
to his partner or the surviving Wieders.

It seemed like forever before his foot came into 
contact with something hard, the thunk of wood 
indicating it was the cabin.  He found the steps and 
ran up them to the door.  Drawing up short, he 
listened again, but only silence came from the 
interior.  Laying his hand on the doorknob, he tested 
to see if it was unlocked before barging through, 
prepared to take on their killer.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Scully's attention, previously on the pair upstairs 
and the threat against them, was drawn to a sudden 
ruckus at the door.

"Mulder!" she said in astonishment as he burst 
through.  She didn't have the chance to say any more 
as a sudden impact to the side of her head knocked 
her to the floor, the room spinning around her.  
Through the fog, she saw Peattie closing in on 
Mulder, who stood as still as a statue.  Why wasn't 
he moving to capture the man?

"You havin' problems d'ere, Agent Muld'r?" Peattie 
was saying venemously.  "You 'tink you gonna save 
dese peeple from gettin' what dey deserve?"

"Yes, I'll stop you," Mulder ground out, but he 
didn't move.

"I don't tink you be able to stop me if you canna 
even find me," Peattie said, moving around Mulder 
just as Scully's vision came back into focus.

"I can find you just fine!" Mulder exclaimed, taking 
a swing towards their killer but missing by a mile.  
His swing threw him off balance, and Peattie easily 
used his momentum to push him to the floor.  

"And now, Mista Muld'r, 'tis time to finish it."  He 
raised his hands in front of him, but she couldn't 
see what he had.  Nevertheless, it was time for her 
to take her own action.

Jumping to her feet, she hit Peattie like a defensive 
lineman, sending him crashing to the floor.  
Fortunately, she managed to land on him without both 
of them then landing on Mulder.  Once he was down, 
her Bureau training allowed her to incapacitate him 
and get the cuffs on his empty hands.  She searched 
him thoroughly, but he held no weapons, and she 
wondered briefly how he'd intended to kill Dr. 
Wieder.  She didn't believe in curses.

Flicking her phone open, she began to dial from her 
position sitting on their prisoner's back.  

"Don't bother," Mulder said.  "Backup's already on 
its way."  

She snapped the phone shut, severing the connection.

"Can we come down?" a shaky-sounding Wieder came from 
the stairway.

"Yeah, you're safe.  We got him," she said.  "The 
police will be here any moment."

"Thank God," the doctor sighed deeply, hugging his 
daughter close to him.

"Scully, not to put a damper on the celebration, but 
. . ."  Her partner's words were quiet in the silent 
room.

Looking up to her partner, she was shocked by what 
she saw.  Mulder almost seemed to be looking at her, 
but his eyes were milky white, his irises and pupils 
covered in a solid opaqueness.

"Mulder, your eyes!"

"I can't see, Scully," he said, obviously trying to 
remain calm.  

"But how, Mulder?"

He just shrugged his shoulders, lost for any 
theories.

"Well, we'll figure it out, don't worry," she 
encouraged.  

"'ey, you get offa me," Peattie said from under her.

"When hell freezes over," she snapped back at him, 
pulling on the cuffs.  "Considering what you've done, 
you're lucky that's all I'm doing to you."

"I think you should get up, Agent Scully," came a 
low, even voice from behind her.

Turning around, she almost didn't recognize the man 
pointing her own weapon at her.  The warm, caring 
physician had been replaced by a creature of 
vengeance, so cold it sent a chill through her.

"Dr. Wieder, you don't want to do this. You're better 
than he is."

"He took my wife . . . Almost killed my daughter.  He 
deserves it!"

"Revenge isn't the way," Scully entreated.  "It's not 
a solution.  You're better than this.  Now give me 
the gun."

"That's where you're wrong," he answered, the gun 
shaking in his fists.  "I'm not."

"You're right," Mulder said, obviously sensing the 
danger and what was going on. "You say you love your 
daughter. . . ."

"Don't bring her into this!" Wieder demanded.

"You've already brought her into it," Mulder said in 
a calming voice.  "If you do this, what does that 
leave her?   A young girl whose mother was killed and 
whose father went to jail.  She'll have nobody, 
Robert.  Nobody!"

"Daddy, please!" Lucy cried on cue.  

It was enough to get to Wieder, who suddenly dropped 
the gun and fell to his knees, sobbing.  "I'm sorry, 
I'm sorry!"

"It's okay, Dr. Wieder.  Nobody blames you."

"Your life is worth more than revenge," Scully said, 
breathing heavily with released tension.

Lucy rushed into the room and wrapped her arms around 
her sobbing father.  "It's okay, daddy."

"I t'ank you for savin' me life," Peattie said 
insincerely, finishing with a sneer, from his place 
on the floor.

"I didn't do it for you!" Scully nearly snarled.

"Thank God," Mulder whispered, and it was the first 
that Scully realized that the sirens were very, very 
close, and white and red lights were bouncing through 
the cabin's windows.

"Mulder, do you think you can hold him so I can go 
greet our guests?"

"No, stay where you are," he said, getting to his 
feet.  "The least I can do is find the damned door."

Heavy footfalls pounded on the porch just as Mulder 
jerked open the door, admitting the local police 
department.

"Everybody freeze!" the lead officer called, his gun 
dawn.  

"It's okay, Officer," Scully said.  "I'm Agent 
Scully, and this is my partner, Mulder.  We're FBI."

He turned to Mulder.  "You're the one who called us?"

"That would be me," he responded flatly, flashing his 
badge in the direction of the voice.

Peattie began to buck up under her, nearly tossing 
her off.

"Now that the formalities are in order, could one of 
you give me a hand here?"  Two young men in uniforms 
quickly raced to her, grabbing her securely by the 
arms so Peattie couldn't toss her off.

"This man is wanted for the murder of two people.  
Please take him into custody, and don't forget to 
Mirandize him."

"Yes, ma'am," they responded smartly, escorting 
Peattie out the door.  The officer with the most 
stripes on his arms stayed behind.

"Is there an ambulance out there, Lieutenant?"

"No, ma'am," he responded.  "Is somebody hurt?"

"Yes, but I'll drive him to the nearest hospital in 
his car if you'll give us an escort.  I don't know 
the area that well."

"Of course, Agent Scully."

"And could you please drive Dr. Wieder and his 
daughter back to their home afterwards?  I think 
they've had enough excitement for one day."

"Yes, ma'am."  He turned to face the doctor and 
daughter.  "If you'll just follow me."

Just that suddenly, they were alone.  And for one of 
the first times in their entire partnership, she 
realized she didn't know what to say.  Apparently, 
however, their unspoken communication was still 
functioning.

"Say something, Scully, so I know you're still here."  
He chuckled nervously.  "Anything will do. You could 
even sing Joy to the World."

"You're not hurt that bad, so I'll spare you," she 
said with a slight smile.  "You ready to head out?"

"Yeah, I think I'm done here."

"You're not gonna give me a hard time about going to 
the hospital, are you?"

"This time . . ." he said, grasping her arm tightly.  
"This time, you won't hear a peep."

"It's about time," she smiled, leading him carefully 
from the house.

Of all the odd experiences in their partnership, it 
had to have been one of the strangest.  Settling 
Mulder into the passenger side of his own car, 
climbing behind the wheel and adjusting the seat, and 
then pulling out into traffic behind the patrol car.

She had to keep him talking or he'd clam up for sure.  
"What happened, Mulder?"

"We found the boarding house where Peattie was 
staying, and we found his daughter's body - well, 
most of it.  The head was missing."

"Ew, that's lovely."

"Yeah, I think a few young rookies lost their lunches 
on that one.  Anyway, I realized from what he left 
behind that he knew where you were, so I jumped in my 
car and raced up here."

"Why didn't you call me?"

"I tried, but you didn't answer.  I thought . . . 
well, I was afraid of the worst."  His voice had 
grown quiet, barely above a whisper.

"Thank you, Mulder.  But what happened to your eyes?"

"If I knew, believe me, I'd tell you.  After I saw 
your broken car window, there was just this pain, and 
then it was gone."

"I'd have been terrified," she said quietly, putting 
herself into Mulder's shoes.

"No, you'd have been fine.  You don't give yourself 
enough credit."  It was an uncommon compliment.

"To be stumbling about in a place I've never been 
before, unable to see, and thinking that my partner 
was quite likely already incapacitated?  I think you 
give me too much," she said softly.  "But thank you."

"Scully, what if . . ."

"Don't think about it.  You'll be okay."

"As they say, from your mouth to God's ears."

They rode the rest of the way in silence, each deep 
in their own thoughts.  Finally, Scully pulled into 
the ambulance bay at the emergency room.  Mulder 
reached for he door handle, but her voice stilled 
him.

"Hold on a sec, Mulder.  I'll come around and help 
you."  Leaving the keys in the car, she scrambled 
around the front end, arriving just as he opened the 
door anyway.

"Just once, can't you do things my way?" She said 
with a humorously exasperated tone.

"I'm here, aren't I?" he responded with a grin.

"Yes, you are, small miracle," she grinned back.  
"Let's get you taken care of."

She led him through the doors, which parted like 
magic at their approach.  He could hear the change as 
his heels struck tiled floor instead of concrete, 
traveling ten steps on the new surface before Scully 
came to a stop.

"May I help you?" came a slightly-accented feminine 
voice.  Irish, or maybe Scottish, he wasn't certain.

"Yes, I'm Special Agent Dana Scully, and this is my 
partner, Agent Fox Mulder.  We were on an assignment 
when something happened to his eyes."  Well, that 
sounded ambiguous, she thought.

 "I see, and how long as Agent Mulder been blind?"

"He's not," she snapped, then her voice evened out.  
"I'm sorry.  His eyes were fine until an hour ago 
except for a slight tendency towards farsightedness."

"It had to have been Peattie," he said to her.  "He 
did something."

Instead of responding to his comment, she continued 
to the woman.  "Could we please see somebody as soon 
as possible?  Eye damage could risk his career."

"Of course, Agent Scully.  If you'll complete these 
forms, I'll page the on-call optical specialist.  He 
should be here before you're done."

"Thank you," Scully sighed.  

They sat in uncomfortable chairs and he could hear 
the pen or pencil scraping on the paper as she 
completed the required paperwork.  He felt lost, 
unable to think of anything to do and wondering, 
distractedly, if anybody was looking at him.

"Agent Mulder?"  

Damn, that was a shock.  He must've jumped a mile.

"Warn a guy when you do that, wouldya?" he said, his 
voice a bit strained.

"I'm sorry, Sir,"  a young voice said from beside 
him.  "We're ready for you in treatment room four, if 
you'll come this way."

He rose, feeling Scully doing the same beside him, 
one woman taking each arm to escort him to the room 
where they'd hopefully solve this mess.  He hated 
this already. 

He felt like a ninety-year-old man being walked 
around this way and hearing his feet shuffle on the 
floor.  It reminded him of his grandfather when 
Mulder had been very small.

They walked some distance, and then Scully was 
putting his hand on a flat surface to his left.

"Can you sit up there, Agent Mulder?" The young voice 
asked.

"I can't see, but I'm not crippled," he responded, 
pushing himself up onto the gurney.  It was a 
position in which he'd been more times than he cared 
to count.  Next would come the gown. . .

"Could you change into this, please?" the nurse 
asked, and cloth was suddenly in his lap.  

Got it in one.

"What makes you think I need to put on a hospital 
gown to have my eyes examined?" he asked, trying to 
sound oh-so logical.

There was silence in response, and then the rustling 
of clothes indicating that the nurse had left.  He'd 
been through this before, too.  She was leaving 
Scully to deal with him.

"Scully, you can just give it a rest because nothing 
short of you proposing marriage to me right this 
second would get me out of my clothes."  

"Not that that doesn't sound like a ball of fun, 
Mulder, this time I happen to agree with you.  The 
gown is extreme, but she was just doing as she was 
taught."

"I'm not faulting her either - I'm just also not 
putting on the gown."

"Good enough."  She drew close, resting both hands on 
his thighs, rubbing them comfortingly.  If he hadn't 
been so scared, he would have had a very different 
emotional reaction.  "Now tell me about it.  Can you 
see anything at all?"

"Not a thing, although there's faint light."

"How could this have happened?" she asked 
plaintively.

"It's gotta be Peattie.  He used some kind of 
witchcraft on me."

"There's no such thing as witchcraft, Mulder."

"Then whatever you call what we've been investigating 
the last few days.  Voodoo, magic, hokus pokus . . . 
Whatever he did to kill Mrs. Wieder, he did again 
tonight to my eyes."

She shook her head, unable to admit that the 
possibility existed.  "It just doesn't make . . ."

"I'm sorry for the delay, folks," a booming voice 
came as a shadow entered the curtained area.  "I had 
an emergency that just couldn't wait."

"It's completely understandable in your situation, 
Doctor," Scully said genially.  She was on her best 
behavior, it seemed.

"Agent Scully, I presume?  And this is Agent Mulder?"

"Forgive me if I don't get up, Doctor.  I'm a bit . . 
. disoriented at the moment."

"Most understandable, Mr. Mulder.  Now how about you 
tell me what happened?"

While Mulder spoke, the doctor looked into his eyes 
with first a pen light, then with a special 
ophthalmoscope.

"I really can't tell you very much, I'm afraid. I was 
outside, closing in on a cabin where a suspect was 
trying to kill a victim we were protecting.  It was a 
very dark night to begin with, so I almost didn't 
notice until I tried to use my flashlight and then 
look at my watch.  My vision was just . . . gone."

"Was it raining, Agent Mulder?"

"No, there were clouds, but no rain."

"And was anybody with you?"  He looked to Scully, who 
spoke for herself.

"I was inside the cabin.  I didn't see him until it 
had already happened."

Although his face was kind, she was distressed by his 
next words.  

"If you wouldn't mind, Agent Scully, I'd like to 
examine Agent Mulder more thoroughly in private."  
Seeing her hesitation, he added, "please."

"Mulder?" she asked, unsure whether she could leave 
him.  Or if she should.

"It's okay, Scully.  It's been a long day, and I have 
a feeling I'm in for a battery of tests."

The doctor nodded his assent.

"But, Mulder . . ."

"Scully, it's okay.  We've both been through a lot, 
and you need some sleep."

"But . . ."

"And I'm going to need some clean clothes.  Go home, 
get a few hours of sleep, and I'll see you in the 
morning."

Scully smiled.  There was no fear or concern in her 
partner's tone.  He was holding together well, and 
she *was* awfully tired.

Coming close to him, she kissed his forehead gently.  
"I'll say a prayer that you do," she whispered before 
squeezing his hand briefly, then releasing it again.  
Then, louder, she added, "Take good care of him, 
Doctor."

"I'll do my best, Ma'am," the doctor smiled and 
turned his back on her as she left.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

A hot shower was never so good, and her bed never so 
soft.  She felt a little guilty in the less-than-five 
minutes that transpired between her climbing under 
the covers and her falling fast asleep, for once not 
even thinking about setting her alarm clock.  

Before she knew it, there was sunlight streaming in 
her window, and she rubbed her eyes, trying to focus 
on her surroundings.  It was several seconds before 
she could read the clock.  9:58.

"Damn!"  The reality came slamming back at her, and 
the previous night's events came back in spades.   
She had to get going, stop at Mulder's to pick up 
some of his stuff and feed his fish, then get to the 
hospital - before the medical staff had had it up to 
there with Mulder and tossed him out onto the 
sidewalk without a second thought.

To be continued in Part 2

Robbed 2/2
By Mary Kleinsmith (Buc252@adelphia.net)



She was still berating herself when she arrived at 
the hospital about an hour and a quarter later, 
despite the fact that she'd made good time.  She 
still hadn't briefed Skinner, either, but that would 
have to wait until she was reassured about Mulder's 
condition, whatever that was this morning.

Stopping at the admissions desk, she had to wait 
while the older woman there finished on the 
telephone, and every second of the wait made her more 
and more jittery.  She couldn't explain it, but 
something was . . . foreboding.

Finally, the woman hung up the receiver.  "May I help 
you?" she asked.

"Yes, I'm here to see Fox Mulder?  He was admitted 
through Emergency last night."

"And the nature of his ailment?"

"He had had an eye . . . I mean, a visual . . . 
injury."  How did you describe what had happened to 
him?  She didn't even know what had.

The woman tapped on the keyboard, shaking her head.  
"I'm not seeing anything in Optometrics.  Let me 
check the general patient database."

Scully tried very hard not to tap her foot while she 
waited.

"Ah, here he is!" The matronly woman exclaimed.  
"Seventh floor, Room 715."

"Thank you," Scully said at the smiling woman.  

As she searched out the elevators, she wondered if 
there would be other patients with visual problems, 
or if it was just a general ward.  She had the car to 
herself, and thought about calling Skinner, but then 
had second thoughts.  There was no point until she 
got an update on his condition, since their boss was 
certain to ask.

The doors opened, and she immediately knew to what 
floor she had been directed, and to say she was 
shocked and angry was an understatement.  Physical 
injuries were most definitely not the main concern of 
the patients she was seeing and hearing.

Rushing to the nearest nurses' station, she bit back 
a, "what the hell is going on here?" in favor of a 
more contained approach, knowing her anger would get 
her nowhere.

"Excuse me, but can you tell me if Fox Mulder is on 
this floor?"

The young, uniformed woman looked up from the 
patient's folder she was studying with a less-than-
welcoming expression.

"Room 715," she said quickly, motioning to her right.  
"Take this hall, then go down the next corridor on 
the right."

"Thank you.  I'd like to speak to his doctor 
immediately, so could you page him, please?"

"Doctor Rogerson is gone to lunch," she responded, as 
if that explained everything.

"I don't care if Doctor Rogerson is at NASA examining 
astronauts for fleas," Scully said, nearly losing her 
temper.  She flipped open her badge.  "Get him here 
now."

"Yes, ma'am," the woman said quickly, picking up the 
phone.  If Scully hadn't been so worried about 
Mulder, the change in level of cooperation would have 
been nearly laughable.

Turning away, Scully made her way down the hall, 
eagerly counting off the doors until she finally came 
upon #715.  Taking in a large breath and holding it, 
she entered.

"Who's there?"  She recognized the voice as Mulder's 
even before she saw him in the bed, but when she did, 
she was shocked.

"Oh, Mulder!"  Her partner lay in a hospital bed, 
distinguishable from the standard type only by the 
restraints which held his arms and legs securely in 
place.  

"Scully," he slurred, and it was apparent that he'd 
been sedated.  "'S that you?"

"Yes, Mulder, it's me," she answered, wrapping his 
cold hand in her own.  "How are you?"

"It's still dark," he said drowsily.  "Only now I'm 
tired, too."

"I'm going to get you out of here.  What the hell is 
the matter with that doctor?"

"Tried to tell'm, but they said I was crazy.  
'Course, they din't say 'crazy', but tha's wha' they 
meant."  His head started to lull to the side; the 
conversation had obviously taken it out of him.  

"What did you try to tell them, Mulder?  What did you 
say?"  No answer came immediately, so she squeezed 
his hand harder.  "Stay with me, here.  What did you 
tell the doctors?"

"Told 'em that I couldn't see 'cause Peattie put hex 
on me.  Pro'lly used a puppet."

"A poppet, Mulder?  We didn't find one on him when he 
was arrested," she responded.

Before he could reply, the door opened and a dark-
haired man with a swagger the size of Texas came into 
the room.  She hated him on sight.

"I was told somebody from the FBI was demanding my 
presence."  His expression clearly said he wasn't so 
sure he could believe that she was said agent.

"Yes, I'm also Agent Mulder's partner.  Would you 
care to tell me what the hell is going on here?"

If her animosity was clear, he took it in stride.  "I 
was called in when the other doctors could find 
nothing physically wrong with your partner.  I was 
able to quickly diagnose a somatosome disorder, but 
Agent Mulder became antagonistic and had to be 
sedated.  In a few hours, we'll let the sedatives 
wear off, and we'll try again to see if we can get to 
the bottom of what's bothering him."

"Are you telling me that you diagnosed a member of 
the Federal Bureau of Investigation as having a very 
physical injury that's all in his head, doctor? That 
his blindness is psychosomatic?  Have you *looked* at 
his eyes?"

Her ire took him off guard, and he immediately became 
defensive.  "I'll have you know that somatosome 
disorders can have very clear physical symptoms. It's 
nothing to be ashamed of as long as the patient gets 
the help he needs.  And I'd appreciate it if you 
didn't look at me as if I'm a first year psych 
student.  I'm very well respected in my field."

"Yeah, maybe . . . but you'll *never* be respected by 
mine."

"You'll forgive me if the respect of a federal agent 
isn't of utmost importance to me."  Now the guy was 
just getting nasty, but she could admit, she provoked 
it.  However, most people would be a bit more 
concerned at attracting the dislike of a member of 
the FBI.

"I'm not just a federal agent, Dr. Rogerson.  I'm a 
licensed pathologist, a medical doctor, and a member 
of the AMA.  And I have just two things to say to 
you.  Firstly, effective immediately, are you no 
longer in any kind of control over Agent Mulder's 
treatment, and secondly, my partner is to be moved 
into a normal hospital room *off* this floor as soon 
as humanly possible."

For one of the first times, her "mama bear" routine 
in regard to her partner wasn't going over with 
flying colors.  "Now that he's admitted to my 
department, you can't make those kinds of decisions 
unless you have his power of attorney."

"I *have* his power of attorney," she responded 
sharply.

"Prove it," he replied abruptly.  "Because nothing 
short of the legal documents will get him transferred 
out of my care."

"He has a card in his wallet.  He'll confirm it."  

"A card isn't legally binding, and neither is the 
word of a man in Mr. Mulder's condition.  I know you 
don't think so, but I *do* care about my patients, 
Agent Scully.  Even if they're not in complete 
control of their faculties."

She tried to stifle the snarl that grew in her 
throat.  It wasn't easy.  "Agent Mulder is probably 
more sane than the entire medical staff of this 
hospital, and definitely  more so than you!  Now I'm 
going to go have my boss fax over the legal documents 
for Mulder's power of attorney that you're insisting 
on, and when I get back, I'd better not find out that 
he's had any more sedative.  I want him up and aware 
for his ride to his new room."  With that, she 
stormed out, certain that there was smoke coming out 
of her ears.  

How dare he, she fumed?  How dare he write Mulder off 
so casually when there had to be a better reason for 
. . .

Wait . . . what was it Mulder had said?

Her mind raced, going over his few, garbled words 
under the effect of the sedation.  

Wishing she could use her cell instead, she rushed to 
find a pay phone, dropping coins in the slot until 
she made her connection.  

"Yes, this is Agent Scully.  Please connect me to AD 
Skinner."

It was a moment before his gruff voice came on the 
line.

"Where are you, Scully?" Although it was phrased as a 
question, it definitely was not.  

"I'm at the hospital with Agent Mulder, Sir.  I need 
you to fax them over his paperwork giving me power of 
attorney when he's incapacitated."

"The police report said he'd only suffered vision 
damage," Skinner stated, sounding puzzled.  He 
already knew more than she'd expected.

"He did.  But because the inept doctors here can't 
figure out why, they've written him off as a psych 
case and sedated him into the next century.  I need 
to get him out of their care."

"I'll fax it right over," her boss said, completely 
agreeing with her stance on the situation.  "Is there 
anything else I can do for you?"

"Yes, sir.  What is the situation out at the cabin 
where we apprehended Peattie?"

"Forensics has been out there and collected all the 
evidence.  Carted off everything except the 
furniture, just in case.  But I don't . . ."

"I need to see everything that was found at the 
scene, Sir.  Right away."

"Scully, it's all in the evidence lockup.  Can't you 
come down . . ."

"No, sir.  I don't dare leave Mulder's side."

There was a heavy sigh from Skinner's end of the 
line.  "Well, that intern of mine has been 
complaining about not being able to get out of the 
office.  Do I want to know why you want this stuff?"

"Not right now, no, I don't think so, Sir.  You'll 
just have to trust me."

"Don't make me regret this, Scully," he said quietly.  
"And I expect everything to be returned to the lockup 
by five o'clock today.  That's five hours."

"Yes, sir, thank you.  That should be plenty of 
time," she reassured. 

"And keep me updated on Mulder's condition," he 
added, just before hanging up without saying goodbye.   

When she returned to Mulder's room, she found a new 
nurse removing the IV.

"Dr. Rogerson ordered the removal of his IV," she 
explained sympathetically.  "However, he insists that 
Agent Mulder remain on this floor."

"And the restraints?"

"He didn't mention them either way," she stated, 
seeming a bit scared.  "In light of that, I think we 
can take them off as long as you'll be staying with 
him."  She smiled warmly at Scully.

"I will be," Scully said in no uncertain terms.

"I'm Sharon, and I'll be on duty until ten.  If you 
need anything, you can ask for me at the desk."  Her 
unwritten message was clear; she was sympathetic, but 
not everybody would be.  Scully wondered why this 
woman was so different.

"Thank you, Sharon.  Just out of curiosity, what 
makes your attitude so different."

"I've seen some things that . . . well, let's just 
say that if I talked about them openly, I'd likely be 
in the room next door if some people had their way.  
I'm not so willing to write off unusual occurrences 
as insanity."

Somewhere, a light bulb came on.

"You know who he is, don't you?"

"Most members of Mufon do, Agent Scully.  As they 
know who you are."  Scully knew her expression 
revealed her surprise.  "He's believed us, and we owe 
it to him to believe him, too.  So do you."  It was 
said with not malice or reprimand in her voice, just 
simple fact.

Scully wasn't sure whether or not she should be 
comfortable with this woman, but the nurse's warm 
smile and caring touch with her partner made her 
definitely lean on the side of the former.  "I do 
believe him.  Now, I'm just trying to find a way to 
help him."

Smiling, Sharon simply nodded.  "Then I'll wish you 
good luck and leave you with him."

After she'd left, Scully held his motionless hand, 
pondering their new friend.  She was nothing like 
Scully expected a member of Mufon to be.  She seemed 
. . . well . . . normal.  Sane.  It made her rethink 
a lot of her preconceived notions about believers.  

They must have really pumped Mulder full of drugs, 
she realized when, two hours later, he was still 
asleep.  She thought he'd have awoken by now, but 
apparently, he was going to do so all in his own good 
time.  But she'd wait.  As long as it took, she'd 
wait.

A soft knock on the door preceded its being cracked 
open, a fresh, freckled face with red hair peeking 
around the door.  "Agent Scully?" asked the boy she 
recognized as Skinner's intern.

"Yes, Kevin?"

"I brought the material forensics collected at the 
scene, but there's three boxes of it.  Do you want it 
in there or out here?"

Looking from the young man to her partner in the bed, 
she was torn.  She didn't want to wake him, nor did 
she want to leave his side.

"Where are they?"

"I have them right outside the door, ma'am."

"Good, I'll be out in a second," she said, dismissing 
the young man, who left her in peace.  Walking to 
Mulder's bedside, she bent to whisper in his ear.  
"I'll be right back, Mulder.  Don't go anywhere."

She tore through the first box, and then the second, 
where she found an odd-looking item, which she 
snatched up.  A poppet!

"Did you find something, Agent Scully?" Kevin asked, 
looking at the small doll.  "What is that?"  

"It's called a poppet," she said as she distractedly 
studied the item.  "Sort of like a voodoo doll."  She 
had no idea what the proper procedure was for 
disenchanting a poppet, but figured she'd start by 
removing what she knew should be inside: a photo, 
thorns, a hair . . . 

Ripping open the crudely-sewn seam with her bare 
hands, she was shocked when the picture she pulled 
out of the interior wasn't of Mulder, but of her.  

"That's you, Agent Scully!" the intern said, 
surprised.  

"Yes, it is," she responded, throwing it to the floor 
and beginning to dig again.  "There's got to be one 
in here for Mulder, and we need to find it!"

Rushing to help, Kevin cracked open the third box and 
began rummaging through it with all his strength.  
His supervisor had been clear that he was to assist 
Agent Scully in any way possible, and if this would 
help, he'd do it.  

They unburied two more untouched dolls before a 
victorious Kevin stood up, a tan object in a plastic 
evidence bag in his hand.  "Agent Scully!"

It was more than enough to grab her instant 
attention, and he held the object out to her: a crude 
poppet . . . with two nails securely fixed through 
the doll's eyes.

"Oh, my God," she said, taking it with trembling 
fingers.  She wanted to yank out the nails instantly, 
but second nature kept her from completing the act.  
Instead, she walked the five or so steps to the 
nurses' station where Sharon was working on some 
charts.  

"Could you please have Dr. Rogerson paged to Mulder's 
room immediately?" she asked with a smile. 

"Good news?" the nurse asked after making the call.

"Maybe.  We're going to hold a little demonstration 
on being judgmental for our friend the doctor," 
Scully said, exchanging a wink with the woman.

The trio, Scully, Sharon, and Kevin, returned to 
Mulder's door to wait, using the few minutes until 
Rogerson arrived to re-box the remaining items that 
had to go back to the bureau, including the poppet 
made for her.  It would prove possible malicious 
intent, at the very least.

Finally, he arrived.  "Agent Scully, I was in the 
middle of making my rounds.  What is so important 
that it couldn't wait?"

Scully couldn't believe the man's arrogance.  "I 
wanted you to be here when we did this, so there'd be 
no doubt whatsoever that Mulder should be released.  
I'm so sorry if seeing to the well-being of a patient 
interrupted your drugging others into oblivion."  She 
knew she was probably being unfair; many of the 
patients here really did need the sedation.  But her 
ire at the way he'd treated Mulder had blinded her, 
and she recognized that.  Heck, she was enjoying 
being able to be the irrational one for a change.

"I'll have you know . . ." he said, beginning to 
defend himself.

"Forgive me if your needs aren't my first priority at 
the moment, Dr. Rogerson," she said in a biting tone.  
"My priority is my partner."

With that, she opened the door and entered Mulder's 
room.  If he'd planned to flee, the opportunity 
wasn't afforded him when Sharon and Kevin closed 
ranks behind him so he had nowhere else he could go.  
Once in the room, Scully waved him to the opposite 
site of Mulder's bed.

"Mulder, wake up," she said gently.  "C'mon, Mulder.  
You can't sleep the day away."

Slowly, ever so slowly, Mulder's eyes opened, the 
cloudy corneas striking her as if for the first time.  
She tried very hard to keep her actions from showing 
in her words.

"So, you planning on lazing around all day?  I 
thought maybe we could take a walk down to the 
commissary for some lunch."  As she spoke, she held 
the poppet up for everybody to see.  "I hear they're 
having tacos today.  Are you hungry?"

"I'm starved," Mulder said with a smile.  "Want me to 
lead the way?"  His chuckle was self-deprecating, but 
she knew him well enough to know he was fighting 
despair.

"Can't you let me be in charge just once?" she 
responded in a light tone, that belied the action of 
her hands as she held the doll securely in one and 
removed first one, then the other, nail.

It was magical - there was no other way she could 
think of to describe it.  One minute, he was looking 
sightlessly into space, and a moment later he 
blinked, and, suddenly, hazel eyes looked out 
clearly, fully taking in his surroundings.

He looked from one face to the next, his gaze finally 
falling on Scully.  "Scully, have I ever told you how 
beautiful you are?" he asked, smiling.  

"Oh, Mulder!"  Her happiness spilled over in the form 
of tears.  Truth be told, she hadn't been totally 
certain it would work, but she'd trusted, and that 
trust had been rewarded.  Leaning down, she embraced 
him briefly.  "The next time I doubt one of your 
freaky theories," she said, "remind me of this day, 
okay?"

"I never give up the chance to say 'I told you so,'" 
he smiled back.  

She tore her gaze from him to the doctor standing in 
shock opposite her.  "Do you have anything to say, 
Dr. Rogerson?"

Rogerson stammered, then blushed, then stammered some 
more before finally regaining control of his tongue.  
"Um . . . Nurse . . ."  He cleared his throat and 
tried again.  "Nurse, would you please put in a call 
to optical?"  He tried to smile, but was clearly 
shaken.  "I'm sure Agent Mulder would appreciate a 
clean bill of health before being released into his 
partner's care."

Sharon chuckled and squeezed Scully's arm as she 
walked by on her way out of the room.  

Mulder watched for another moment as Kevin made a 
sound in the back of his throat.  "If you'll excuse 
me, Agent Scully, I'll return the evidence and report 
back to AD Skinner.  I'm sure he'll expect an update 
on Agent Mulder's condition."

"Do me a favor?" Scully asked the young man, who 
nodded.  "Don't tell him exactly how it happened?  I 
can't wait to see his expression."

"What did you do?" Mulder asked, reaching for her 
hand.  "Whatever it was, thank you."

"I trusted in your beliefs, Mulder," she said as he 
eyes filled again.  "I trusted in your beliefs."

The End