From: Humbuggie <san@sv-tales.com>
Date: 27 Mar 2003 11:17:57 -0800
Subject: xfc: Sanpaku 1/6
Source: atxc

Sanpaku 
By Humbuggie
 2003 
Feedback san@sv-tales.com
www.sv-tales.com 
 
Edited by Truthwebothknow1
 
Spoilers for X-Files: None. 
 
"Sanpaku: this well-known Japanese term describes a condition in which the white 
of the eye can be seen between the pupil and the lower lid as the subject gazes 
directly forward. This, we quickly learn, connotes a graves state of physical 
and spiritual imbalance. The Sanpaku is out of touch with himself, his body and 
the natural forces of the universe."
 
"Sanpaku: Eyes of death"
 
Type of story: MT, Angst, MSR (sans sex), loads of Skinner friendship, and some 
profiler influences. 
 
In my universe there never was a season eight or nine. The story takes place in 
2003, with M&S doing business as usual. 
 
Note: In previous stories I have introduced new recurrent characters like 
Terence Davies, Mulder's former boss at the VCU, and his co-workers Tom Fielding 
and Daniel Verlaine. If you want to know more about these characters, read the 
profiling stories at my website www.sv-tales.com. 
This story is an unofficial follow-up of the story "Color Blind" and has a few 
references to this story, in particular to Scully's shooting. It helps if you 
have read this story too. 
 
Story: Mulder starts to experience a strange series of unfortunate luck, having 
him believe that his time has come, after a woman told him he is "sanpaku". 
But is he really suffering from a string of bad luck, or is there something else 
behind his ordeal?
 
 
Sanpaku
 
Chapter One 
 
Part One
 
"You," the beautiful woman said as she glanced directly in Mulder's direction, 
"are Sanpaku." 
 
The agent looked up, startled. The young female had his attention instantly, as 
he realized he'd never heard that word before. It intrigued him to learn 
something new. The word became embedded inside his photographic memory; and left 
him hungry for an explanation.
He leaned forward, as did his partner, who sat tiredly next to him, to finish 
the report she had been typing for the past few days. Both agents were extremely 
exhausted, after yet another marathon meeting to set things straight between the 
Japanese and US government. 
 
"He's what?" Scully asked confused, looking up from behind her laptop. 
 
"Sanpaku. Unfortunately, that is not a positive sign." The Japanese 
twenty-something translator grabbed her modern raincoat, pulling it over her 
slender shoulders as a token that the conversation was finally finished. 
 
From the beginning, until the very end, she'd had total control over the 
meetings and Mulder felt that she was again, pulling their strings. She ran the 
meetings, the conversations and gave just enough explanation to keep them coming 
back for more. The agents didn't like it but had gotten used to it by now. It 
wasn't the first time they'd dealt with the Japanese government and their 
officials. Mulder knew some of them could be a real pain in the ass ; but they 
had good sushi and excellent table manners, although he felt too tall and 
unrefined whenever he sat down with them. 
 
"Wait a second," he stopped her. "What does that mean? Tell me."   
Miss Jansu smiled, stopped and came over to him as he stood up, almost touching 
his eye with her index finger. She was so close to him, that he could see the 
spots in her dark eyes. She was a beauty, Mulder thought, not moving  backwards 
or turning his face away from her. 
 
"It's in your eyes," she said gently. "They are turned upwards so that one can 
see white on three sides. For us, this means that you are out of balance with 
nature and the universe. You are eating unhealthy food, Agent Mulder. In fact, I 
would strongly advice a change of lifestyle seeing as you are obviously, 
completely imbalanced. You look like you are ready to drop on the spot right 
now. No wonder, when you carry the weight of the world around." 
 
Mariko Jansu, the Japanese interpreter who worked for the Embassy, smiled 
apologetically as she leaned backwards from the bemused Mulder. 
 
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to sound so heavy. I just wanted to inform you, 
that you should keep better track of your health. It looks like the two of you 
are having difficulty doing so at this moment. I can understand, seeing the 
circumstances were grave and serious. You don't look well, especially you, Agent 
Mulder, who hasn't slept well the past few nights" 
 
"Thank you," Scully smiled wearily. "I've been telling my partner that for 
years."  The oriental woman bowed slightly. 
 
"I am happy that you would agree with me; that is an honour. Goodbye, Agents."  
She moved to the door, like a feather barely touching the ground. Her moves were 
gracious and beautiful and extraordinary. Mulder watched his partner stare at 
her in awe. 
 
Scully, despite the fact that she too was a petite, felt jealousy surge through 
her; but she admired the Japanese culture, their habits, even their gorgeous 
women. Too bad, she thought, that the ones working for the government weren't 
exactly pleasant to work with. They were all top notches at what they did, but 
had no respect for the other party at all. 
 
"I would also watch my back for the next few days," Miss Jansu suddenly 
mentioned by the door, not allowing the agents to reply. "You might need a bit 
of backup. Goodbye." 
 
"Wait!" Mulder was up from his chair and towards the door, but she'd already 
gone. By the time he'd stuck his head out in the corridor, she had vanished into 
one of the many rooms the Embassy held, off that corridor. The sturdy guard did 
not seem too pleased when the agent attempted to rush down the corridors on his 
own, and stopped him with a single move, shaking his head fiercely. 
 
Besides the fact he was much taller and broader than the agent, he also had a 
'don't mess with me' look in his eyes. Mulder knew better than to even try. 
 
Mulder turned and saw Scully shrug. 
 
"Weirdo woman," she stated unprofessionally, jealousy raging through her voice. 
Mulder suddenly roared with laughter, realizing his partner still felt as if 
there was something beautiful going on between Miss Jansu, and himself. For the 
past few days the translator had stated openly that she wouldn't say no to a 
possible come-on attempt by Mulder; she had spent her days ogling the FBI-agent. 

 
Mulder wouldn't have dreamed of it though. Like Scully, he too felt too tall and 
inelegant whenever he was in Mariko Jansu's presence, and besides, he always 
thought of himself as belonging to Scully. Apart from that, he had no intention 
of starting a relationship with a woman who took everything he said, too 
seriously. 
 
"What did she mean by that last remark,  do you think?" Mulder asked, as they 
wrapped up their paperwork and gathered their belongings. Scully turned off her 
laptop and began going swiftly through her jotted notes to see if she'd missed 
anything. They were the last ones to leave the room; they'd spent so many hours 
in. Mulder had grown tired of counting the cracks in the ceiling. 
 
"I think she meant that you're about to get a coronary with all that junk-food 
you've been eating. Mind you, she does have a point. You look like hell, 
Mulder." 
 
"Have you checked yourself in the mirror lately?" he grunted. She smiled. 
 
"At least I am not Sanpaku, whatever the hell that means." 
 
"What did you expect with what we've been doing the last few days?" Mulder 
groaned, not pleased with Scully's remark. He never liked it when someone 
commented on his health, realizing all too well he had a habit of getting stuck 
too deep into cases, too many times, but she was right this time; he did feel 
like he'd been hit by a car and should be at home resting. The past few days had 
been killing them both. The Japanese negotiators had not wanted to stop for 
anything, let alone a coffee break; they had seemed like machines who could go 
on and on for hours. 
 
"I'm telling you Scully, that this is the last time we're dealing with 
international diplomats," Mulder groaned. "I don't even understand why Skinner 
and Davis agreed that the two of us, should handle this one alone. As far as I'm 
concerned, they can stuff their cases next time, or get someone else to do it." 
 
Scully grinned wryly. 
 
"Oh, I don't know why they would do this to us," she mused. "Perhaps they wanted 
to have a certain agent's comment rectified to prevent an international 
incedent. You were the one accusing Mr. Asari of being a yeti, remember?" 
 
"I meant it as a joke. Besides, I didn't know he spoke English. He never 
mentioned it before, and he always used the lovely Miss Jansu as translator," 
Mulder sulked, trying to get his point through after spending the last four days 
in diplomatic-hell. "Besides, you said it yourself; he was worse than a yeti. He 
even looked like one. He deserved what I called him. He could be glad I wasn't 
comparing him to a sumo wrestler." 
 
"Yeah, but I didn't almost cause an international riot over it, did I?" Scully 
sighed, grasping her coat from the uncomfortable plastic chair. "No wonder our 
own government weren't too eager to get involved." 
 
"They dumped us, you mean. Threw us before the lions." 
 
"We did well, Mulder, and that's what counts. Without Miss Jansu, they'd have a 
death warrant out for you right now."
 
"They don't do that anymore, Scully." 
 
"No?" she smiled. "Are you certain about that?"   Mulder grinned. "You know what 
we need, Mulder?" Scully sighed, "Time off; a good holiday. I just want to go 
somewhere quiet and peaceful where no one would bother us about yetis, or 
werewolves or whatever might be out there. I need a break, and a good, long one. 
Even a weekend would suffice right now." 
 
"Are you asking me to go with you?"  Her partner leered, wondering if Scully was 
up for the challenge of spending quality time with him, in her scarce time off. 
She smiled back, showing her partner how tired she was when her eyes fluttered a 
bit, showing big rings around her eyes. 
 
"Who knows," she mused. "You might get lucky some day."
 
Despite his extreme fatigue, Mulder felt very pleased that Scully would actually 
hint at the suggestion of vacationing together. When she flashed him her 
brightest smile, he felt as though the world would fall back right into place 
again. It felt absolutely gorgeous. Not even the prettiest Miss Jansu could take 
this moment away from him, he thought wryly, nor even the sexiest woman in the 
world, could stop him from feeling this way about his partner. 
 
"What about next week then?" Mulder offered, smiling broadly. "We could go away 
then. Take one hotel room for a change. Go to a resort some place nice; get 
massaged and spoiled rotten. How does that sound?" 
 
"I'll think about it. If you eat your vegetables."  He stuck out his tongue. "I 
always eat my vegetables."  
 
"You mean the little nuggets of corn they throw on a plate when you go out to 
eat a burger?" 
 
"That a boy," Scully smiled, causing Mulder to frown even more. 
 
"Yeah." He shrugged. "Can't help it that I don't like my veggies." 
 
"Weirdo." 
 
Mulder couldn't help but laugh, as he walked after her into the brightly lit 
corridor that buzzed with activity day and night. Most Japanese employees worked 
longer and harder than any other culture in the world, and were used to spending 
day and night at the office; the fact it was after eleven didn't stop anyone 
from being there. Scully often wondered where they slept, and if it was true 
that they had small cubicles with tiny beds stocked in the building, not that 
she cared. Both agents were deadbeat after four day-marathons of cleaning up the 
mess that one Japanese Embassy-employee had made in D.C. 
 
It had all started so innocently with the death of one woman that seemed to be a 
single case, until more women died, and more. Finally, it all lead up to one man 
working in the Japanese Embassy who was officially recognized three times, by 
three different witnesses. The problem was, that this particular employee 
enjoyed diplomatic immunity, and showed the classic symptoms of a crazed out 
serial killer.  
 
Because of Mulder's profiling involvement, Terence Davis of the VCU and Walter 
Skinner, their direct boss, had found it best that both agents  with the aid of 
government officials, sort out the mess. Mulder had been called in to profile 
the case before it became clear that Heizo Shiba, was responsible for the 
murders. His profile had in the end, lead to the man. With the three witnesses 
collaborating the profile, they had a solid case, but the Japanese government 
was unwilling to pass Shiba over to its U.S. counterparts, just like that; hence 
the beginning of a marathon round of negotiations in which several parties were 
involved.  
 
Mr. Asari was the high official dedicated to find a good solution to handle the 
case. He was also the man Mulder had insulted. 
 
Eicho Etsuko, Asari's right hand, passed the agents in the corridor as they were 
on their way out. He had left the large meeting room a few moments before Miss 
Jansu, not wishing them farewell. 
 
It was no secret that Etsuko disliked the agents. As far as he was concerned, 
the killer, Heizo Shiba, should not have been handed over to the US officials 
for trial and sentencing. He was a man used to rough justice, from a country 
that was used to handling his or her own affairs. In his eyes, Shiba's only 
trial should have taken place in Tokyo. 
 
However, the agreement had been set between Asari and the US government. Nothing 
more could be done about it. Etsuko was very upset with Mulder's remark about 
Asari. It was an unfortunate incident that had happened late at night after 
exhaustive discussions over Shiba's fate, but one that would never be forgotten 
by anyone involved. Mulder knew all too well the Japanese culture was not to be 
messed with. 
 
Asari had been upset too, but had been willing to forget about it in order to 
finish the negotiations. He'd insisted that Mulder should stay put instead of 
being discharged from his temporary negotiative function, but his eyes harboured 
the cold, white anger that a person only bore when they couldn't forget. 
 
Mulder was nearly past Etsuko when the Japanese assistant stopped him, grasping 
one arm firmly. The man watched him intently, silently enjoying Mulder's 
reaction to being grabbed like that. His eyes narrowed.
 
 "Shinde Morau."
 
 
Both agents were startled by the man's aggressive behaviour. Even without being 
able to understand what he'd said , it wasn't so difficult to figure out that he 
didn't have good intentions for Mulder.  
 
"Whatever you say, buddy, and right back at ya," Mulder snarled quietly, tired 
of dealing with discussions that went on in a language he didn't understand. 
 
"Let's go, Scully." 
 
To Etsuko's annoyance, the agents passed him without saying another word. He 
turned and waited until they were out of sight, before repeating whispered in 
English, 
 
"You will die." 
 
Then he smiling broadly, he walked into Asari's office. 
 
 
Part two
 
The agents walked outside and breathed in the scent of the fresh, rainy evening 
air. It was too late for them to grab dinner and Scully felt too tired to bother 
with it, anyway. Her stomach was empty, but she was beyond caring about it. All 
she wanted to do was go home, but even that didn't seem to go easily.  Since it 
was raining cats and dogs outside, she'd have to run across the street to fetch 
the car and ruin her newly styled hair. She had made a special effort today, 
feeling uneasy in the Embassy. 
 
Mulder was angry at his own refusal to listen to his partner's advice about 
taking umbrellas with them, despite the fact there was a large one sitting in 
the back of his trunk. Now everything they held in their hands, from bags to 
mobile phones, and guns would become soaking wet. 
 
"Here," he said, shoving his bag quickly into Scully's arms. "I'll run for it. 
I'll get the car." 
 
"Mulder, you'll be soaked!" Scully protested. 
 
"It's just across the street, don't worry. Besides, you've got warm cosy towels 
at home, don't you? I'm sure you don't mind if I use them." 
 
"Har har." Scully groaned. 
 
Before she could utter another objection, Mulder buttoned up his winter 
overcoat, pulled up the collar and shoved his head down as much as he could, 
before crossing the street, still becoming soaking wet. His coat wasn't 
waterproof enough for a downpour.  
 
The agent ran across the street right before a car swirled around the corner and 
almost clipped him. Mulder barely missed it and could actually feel it graze the 
side of his leg. Fortunately, the driver hadn't been going fast. 
 
"Hey!", the man inside the Ford shouted at him, raising his middle finger. 
Mulder waved back at him, as he passed.
 
"Sorry!",  He made it to the parking lot without any further accidents. He had 
visions of warm, hot showers, or a bubble bath. Anything like that sounded nice 
right now. 
 
The agent rushed to the car standing on the second level, using the staircase 
that led up. The Mondeo stood parked near the outer wall, where the lights were 
about to give up for good. Mulder unlocked the car with the remote, and was 
almost there, when something sharp stung him in the left side of his lower back. 

 
"What " Mulder's hand automatically went to the source of the pain and touched 
it, confusedly trying to figure out where the sudden ache had come from, only to 
realize that he was bleeding profusely. He didn't understand. His hand came back 
covered in blood. He stared at it in shock and then at the man behind him who 
held up a knife. The blade was covered in blood; his blood. The attacker had 
stabbed Mulder right through his clothes, cutting clean into him like butter.
 
"What did you do that for ?"   Mulder groaned, suddenly starting to shake 
violently, as he realized his body had stopped reacting to any brain stimuli. 
"I'm an FB..." 
 
 
The agent felt his body slide forward, banging into the car door and then onto 
the ground, leaving traces of blood all over the vehicle. The man grabbed him 
roughly, pulling him backwards so that he fell awkwardly onto the concrete on 
his back. Mulder hit his head hard while all the time; his left hand 
automatically kept up pressure on the knife wound.  Some little voice inside of 
him shouted that he might die of the blood loss if he didn't. It was all he had 
to go on. Keep putting pressure. Focus. Stay alert. Alive. Don't give up. 
 
If only he could reach for his gun, or he had the strength to shout out to 
someone. If only there was someone, somewhere to help him. If only he could... 
If only he could stay alert. 
 
Mulder closed his eyes, no longer aware of the fact that another attacker had 
appeared, as soon as the first was searching inside their victim's clothing for 
car and house keys, wallet, watch and anything else of value. The second one 
startled when he noticed the gun underneath the agent's clothing, hidden inside 
its holster. 
 
"What the hell..?" he blurted out, startling the first man. 
 
"'God damned, he's an FBI-agent!", the first attacker hissed as he reached for 
the Mulder's ID. "We didn't know .."  
 
"You killed him!" the second one hollered, panicking when he realized what this 
could mean if they ever got caught. 
 
"No, he's not dead."
 
"Kill him then! He's seen our faces. We can't afford to let him live."
 
"That wasn't the deal, and he hasn't even seen you. I'll take the chance. Let's 
go!" 
 
"Forget it, man. He's not going to live." The second attacker pulled out 
Mulder's gun with a gloved hand, shoving it directly into the stricken agent's 
face. Mulder was nearly out of it, but not completely. He heard their 
conversation and realized his life was even more at stake. He had to do 
something. Somehow he had to convince them to keep him alive. He hadn't seen 
them. He hadn't done anything; he just wanted to live. 
 
He realized all to well that he was vulnerable in this position. The agent 
struggled with his consciousness and made the decision to open his eyes. He had 
to talk to them out of this. He groaned and blinked once, only to stare into the 
barrel of his own gun. The second man's cold blue eyes stared directly into his. 
He knew there was no stopping him. 
Was this it? He thought. Was this what Sanpaku meant? That he was going to die 
right here, right now? 
 
"Hey!" A third voice came from behind them and sounded like a gift from heaven 
to Mulder's ears, a manly sound; hard, strong and very angry. He was one of the 
good guys for sure. Mulder had faith in that. 
 
The two didn't hesitate or wait around to argue with the third man, they crawled 
into Mulder's FBI-rental car and took off, taking the agent's wallet but leaving 
his ID on top of him. The second man, who'd been pushed away from Mulder's 
nearly unconscious body by the first attacker, dropped his weapon next to him. 
Mulder could have almost touched his gun, had he not been shaking from shock. 
The third man rushed over to the agent, knelt by his side and stared at him in 
shocked disbelief. He was a parking attendant. 
 
"Buddy, are you okay?" he asked, voice nervous and agitated. 
 
"Get. Help." Mulder groaned through his pain. 
 
The man reached for into pocket, grabbing his cell phone to dial 911. Mulder 
just stared at him, before he became a part of the blurry universe he solely 
entered. 
 
 
Part three
 
Scully's impatience only grew worse, when Mulder hadn't shown up after ten 
minutes of standing in front of the Embassy's front gate. The guards were 
looking at her suspiciously, wondering why she was standing there with two bags 
of paper, one laptop and long hair that was slowly becoming messier, the more 
the rain splattered her. Her coat was getting soaked too. She felt like a wet 
kitten thrown onto the streets. 
 
Finally she gave up and held one of the bags over her head as she too, made her 
way across the street. She couldn't run faster because of the weight she 
carried, and felt angrier by the second. 
 
"I'm going to kill him," she muttered, convinced some beautiful blonde had 
cornered him for a chat.... Or perhaps he'd bumped into Miss Jansu, she thought 
grudgingly. 
 
As she rushed through the main parking lot gate, she tried to remember where 
they'd parked the car. Second floor. Her eyes scanned the darkness for an 
elevator. She found it, walked towards it, shaking the raindrops off her coat, 
shivering with cold. 
 
In a split second, her anger turned to fear when an ambulance, followed by a 
police car, entered the parking lot and nearly drove her off her feet before she 
could enter the stairwell. Her instincts immediately warned her that they were 
there for Mulder. There was complete silence on the lower levels and the 
vehicles were headed straight up. 
 
Her sixth sense that had usually helped her protect Mulder, had never betrayed 
her before. Her heart sank deeply as she rushed towards the second floor, nearly 
tripping over her own feet, to find the ambulance arriving at the same time on 
the second level, speeding towards the end of the lot where their car was 
parked. She knew. 
 
Their car was gone now....and in its place, lay a body  crumpled on the concrete, 
surrounded in an instant by paramedics and police. That body could only be 
Mulder's. She knew it. She knew it so well; Oh, how she wished she were wrong. 
She'd have given anything to be able to rush forward and find she was mistaken. 
The paralysing sensation that stopped her for a moment faded, as her feet 
carried her towards her partner. 
 
Of course she wasn't wrong. She recognized Mulder's extremely pale, 
blood-drained face, his silence, his blood on the pavement, his beautiful hands 
lying deadly quiet on the concrete and his shivering. That shivering told her he 
was alive and that he was hurt badly. He was unresponsive when they called out 
his name. 
 
How could they know his name? She wondered, as she rushed forward, dropping the 
bags on the concrete; then she saw his badge in a police officer's hands, and 
the gun lying next to his left side. Where were the rest of his belongings? The 
car, his wallet and even his watch were gone. 
 
A elderly police officer turned just in time to grasp her, before she could 
force herself through the paramedics and nearer by her partner's side.
 
"Hang on, who are you?" he asked sharply. 
 
"I'm an FBI-agent, Dana Scully. That's my partner lying on the ground." 
 
"Can you ID yourself?"
 
Impatiently, she waved her badge. The officer's expression changed, finally 
delivering the sort of respect one law enforcement agent gives another in times 
of distress. He also gave her the worried look one gave to a next of kin; he 
seemed to know she was much more than just his partner, that she was his friend, 
his confident and his life. 
 
"They're working on him," the officer explained after identifying himself. 
Scully didn't remember his name afterwards. 
 
"'What happened to him?" she asked with wavering voice. 
 
"He was stabbed."
 
"Where? How? I'm a medical doctor, let me see him." 
 
The police officer wasn't in the mood to argue with the fierce redhead and 
stepped aside, allowing her to approach her partner. He felt that she had every 
right to be involved. Scully nodded in gratitude as he made way for her to reach 
her partner's side. She asked him to contact her boss, giving him Skinner's cell 
phone number as if she'd memorized it and was used to giving it out.
 
The Cop had the sudden impression she'd been in this sort of situation before. 
He saw a strange hurt and defeat in her eyes that told him she'd seen much more 
of the world than he had. He felt instantly sorry for her as he turned away to 
call her boss, as requested. 
 
"How is he?" Scully asked, instantly aware of the fact her partner was not in 
good shape. There was a pool of blood beneath him and on his clothes, left hand 
and the concrete. He had lost quite a lot. His eyes were closed and he'd stopped 
shivering, becoming non-responsive to stimuli. A thick dressing was clamped over 
the deep wound, where the knife had struck, doing some serious damage.
 
"Huge loss of blood. Shock. I'm afraid his kidney was punctured. We have to move 
him quickly," the paramedic in charge, explained. "We might lose him if we don't 
hurry." 
 
"'I'm going with him," Scully's voice brooked no argument and gave the paramedic 
a fierce glare when he opened his mouth to argue with her. He nodded and asked 
her to let them do their jobs. She moved backwards, even though her eyes stayed 
focused on Mulder, not letting him out of her sight. They worked thoroughly and 
efficiently, she noted to her great relief. He would be in good hands.  
 
"Agent Scully", the police officer approached her, a man standing nervously 
behind him. 
 
"This is Mr. Noel, the parking lot attendant. He saw it happen." Scully nodded, 
distraught. 
 
"Could you tell me what happened, please?"
 
"I was downstairs in my booth watching the monitors, when I saw your colleague 
going up to his car. A few seconds later a man came out of the shadows and 
attacked him. I hadn't even seen him come in. I would have called for backup if 
I had." 
 
"Could you see if they struggled?" 
 
"Not that I know of. I think they surprised your guy. He was attacked from 
behind. The moment your partner went down, I rushed upstairs. I have a small 
gun, you see, and I was ready to use it, but when they saw me, they ran off. 
They were going to kill him. They had his gun shoved into his face. I thought 
they were going to blow his brains out before I could do anything. Fortunately 
they didn't, I surprised them." 
 
"You saved my partner's life," Scully told him with gratitude, "Thank you. 
Without you're timely intervention he would have died." 
 
"I wish there was something more I could have done. These days nothing's safe 
anymore. What's a man to do? I can't afford to give up this job either." 
 
"Nothing," Scully gave him a sad smile. "Just keep safe and make sure that you 
don't have to use your gun." 
 
"I try not to." The attendant turned to follow the officer that would take his 
statement. He was upset by the whole situation and felt as if he was useless, 
but the talk with the FBI agent's partner had made him feel a bit better. He'd 
done something right this time at least. 
 
Scully watched as her partner's unconscious form was transported into the 
ambulance; She was determined to go with him.  
 
"I have your boss on the phone," the Cop yelled at her. "I'll tell him to come 
to Georgetown Hospital." 
 
"Okay, thanks." She slipped inside the waiting ambulance and watched the 
paramedic make her partner as comfortable as possible. With an oxygen mask over 
his nose and mouth, and a wad of thick dressing pressed on the wound, Mulder was 
as stable as he could be. An IV was already inserted in his arms. Monitors 
showed his vitals. Scully calculated a ten-minute drive into hospital. She could 
only pray it Mulder could hang on until then. 
 
She leaned backwards and closed her fatigued eyes. How was this possible? Only 
fifteen minutes ago they had been joking about going on vacation together, and 
now this. She didn't understand it. 
 
None of this.
 
 
Part four
 
By the time they arrived at West Hospital, Skinner was there. He'd brought Terry 
Davis with him. Both Assistant-Director's stared at Mulder's unconscious form 
and realized how serious the situation was, as he was moved quickly into a green 
ER-cubicle. A large white lamp shone over the agent's face and body, revealing 
his pale exterior. His clothes were cut off quickly and the trauma team took 
over. 
 
Scully had given the paramedic a brief overview of Mulder's medical history, 
including his blood type and allergies. He wouldn't like that, she thought, as 
they inserted a catheter and put him on a respirator. She didn't like it either; 
it meant they were in for trouble.
All Scully could do now, was watch the proceedings from outside the ER-room 
where her partner was being examined and cared for. 
 
She was happy that both AD's were there. Terence Davis especially, seemed very 
upset about the unfolding events. Scully didn't blame him; in previous cases, 
where Mulder had been hurt, Davis had felt a certain responsibility towards the 
man, even though everything that had just happened, was beyond anything anyone 
could have foreseen. 
 
Davis and Mulder had a special bond that went beyond work. They were friends and 
more than that. They had developed a respect that Mulder shared with only a few 
others like Scully and Skinner. Davis had been Mulder's mentor and became a 
close friend. He had the habit of asking for Mulder's involvement when things 
became rough, and they were on the lookout for the worst type of serial killers 
imaginable. It was no secret that Mulder loved to work with Davis and regularly 
returned to the VCU to work on his profiling skills. 
 
"Sir?" Scully spoke tiredly, addressing herself to Davis who had assigned them 
to this case in the first place. Skinner went to look for a doctor who could 
tell them more. Davis was like a beacon of light. She trusted him as much as she 
did Skinner, having gotten used to him after all the cases and worries they had 
been through together. They had known each other for five years now, and the 
respect Mulder had built up for the man had transferred onto her. If it weren't 
for the two of them, she'd have been forced to be here alone, with her worries 
and cares. Now she had strong shoulders to lean upon. 
 
"I was late at the office when I heard," Davis spoke, startled by the agent's 
sudden weariness as she turned towards them. "How is he doing?" Davis felt 
immense sympathy for the petite female agent, who rubbed her eyes. She looked so 
tired. He felt guilty for having to put the case on them, but neither had 
disagreed that it was the best way to go about things. They had known how much 
was at stake during the proceedings and negotiations. 
 
"How did you find out?" Scully asked tiredly. "I thought Skinner must have told 
you." 
 
"An FBI-agent getting stabbed across the street from the Japanese Embassy?" 
Davis smiled wryly. "That could only have been Mulder."  She returned the smile. 

 
"I know." 
 
"How are you, Scully?" Skinner enquired, as he returned empty-handedly and 
placed his hand on her shoulder. She tried to keep up her bravado as she spoke 
to her two bosses, but felt it slipping instantly. This time, she had no other 
choice but to allow them to see how weary she was. She was so tired. So very, 
very tired. This was the last thing they needed after the week from hell. Tears 
sprung in her eyes as she shook her head, turning away from them, not wanting 
them to see how much she hurt. 
 
"Scully?" Skinner came after her and forced her to look at him. He was strong, 
broad-built and very concerned. She could have easily thrown herself into his 
arms and allowed him to comfort her. 
 
Suddenly, she almost laughed at the irony of the situation; Every time her 
partner was in trouble, Skinner was there to keep them from falling apart. She 
knew she wouldn't have been in tears right now, had it not been for the horrible 
exhaustion she felt, weighing heavily on her too small shoulders. She felt 
guilty for putting the responsibility and strength upon her boss, but knew she 
had to do that this time. She was too beat to keep herself up.  
 
"Sir, I ..."
 
She stared at her hands and noticed there was blood on them. Drops of blood that 
made her shiver. Mulder's blood. That was enough to send her into tears. Not so 
long ago, Mulder had been hurting because she'd been shot. He had told her how 
he'd felt; powerless and guilty, now she felt the same way. 
 
Suddenly thick tears rolled over her cheeks, making her a mess. She leaned 
forward, into Skinner's arms, holding onto him as he did his best to comfort 
her. He was the only one besides Mulder who could do that. 
 
" It's okay", he whispered soothingly in her ear, trying to get her shivering 
under control. "He'll be fine. He'll pull through, he always does." 
 
Over her shoulder, Skinner shared a worried glance with Davis. Neither was used 
to Scully falling apart. She was always Mulder's strength, his conscious and his 
brick wall to lean upon whenever he got himself into trouble. She hardly ever 
showed her fears. 
If I get my hands on whoever did this, he's going to pay, Skinner thought 
angrily, as he felt Scully clutch him. He will not know what happened to him. 
 
It took almost five minutes and two cups of strong coffee to calm Scully down, 
apart from a gory-looking sandwich that seemed too odd to eat, but tasted like a 
feast of salmon and champagne to her. She hadn't wanted to eat at first, but 
when she did, felt her body come alive again. The stamina that was her building 
block returned. 
 
She knew that her partner was in trouble. She knew that he might die; but she 
also knew that the chances of survival were just as great. She had to think 
positive instead of falling apart, she told herself angrily. She'd quickly gone 
into the ladies' room to wash her face and hands, and add a bit of make-up to 
hide the tears. She had to be strong when Mulder woke up, she couldn't show him 
that she'd nearly lost it. 
 
After that, the three of them waited for another fifteen minutes, until the 
ER-doors finally opened again. As the doctor walked out, she moved towards him, 
trying to see Mulder. He was still inside and medical staff was moving around 
him. 
 
"Your partner will be alright," the doctor spoke reassuringly and firmly, making 
her believe him instantly. "We managed to stop the bleeding to the severed 
artery. Our surgical staff will take over from here. They will repair the damage 
to his kidney and the artery, but they are pretty sure that he will be all right 
since the knife grazed mostly soft tissue. He did lose a lot of blood and will 
be weak for some while. He looks very exhausted, but I'm pretty sure that a 
couple of days of rest will do him the world of good." 
 
"Thank you, doctor." Scully nodded quietly, embarrassed at her sudden outburst 
of tears. She just couldn't stop from crying. Skinner placed his arm around her 
shoulder in a gentle gesture. She smiled bravely as she looked at him, thanking 
him silently for being there. Terry caught her glance and nodded supportively. 
"Thank you," she repeated, this time directing her words towards them both. 
"Thank you for being here." 
 
"Any time," Davis said. "Any time." 
 
Scully waited until Mulder was being moved from the ER to the OR-quarters. He 
still had a respirator down his throat and she knew that would stay there until 
he recovered from surgery. He was still pale, but extra blood was already being 
transfused to replace the amount he'd lost. She knew that after surgery he would 
recuperate quickly. She grasped his hand as they moved him to the elevators. 
 
"Mulder," She hoped quietly, that he would unexpectedly open his eyes and smile 
at her. He didn't. She let go reluctantly as the elevator doors opened, and they 
wheeled him inside. 
 
She allowed Skinner to take her into a more comfortable waiting room nearby. It 
was nearly one a.m. by now, all sense of sleep had passed her by. She felt 
jetlagged. 
 
"I have to go now," Davis said. "I've got an early meeting tomorrow. I'll check 
back in the afternoon."
 
"Yeah, that's fine." Scully allowed Mulder's former boss to give her a firm hug. 
She was surprised by his emotional goodbye. He was a man of character who ran a 
department of thirty people. The fact that he was here now, was proof of how 
much Mulder meant to him. "Thank you, Terry," she smiled. 
 
Davis said goodbye to Skinner and left the two of them alone.
"He feels guilty," Skinner said. 
 
"I know."
 
"It's not his fault. It's no one's fault. This could have happened to anyone."
 
"...But it happened to Mulder," Scully sighed exhaustedly. "Even when he's not out 
there working on weird cases, he gets hurt. But I swear that I'll track down the 
bastards that did this." 
 
"Get in line," Skinner grunted angrily, balling his hands. Scully looked aside, 
and realized how caring Skinner could be, whenever he lost his faade of anger 
and bravery. He was probably their best friend and she never told him that 
enough. 
 
"He'll be okay soon enough," she spoke quietly. "He'll forget about this 
eventually." 
 
"Let's hope so." 
 
Skinner leaned his head backwards on the bench, as a token that he was not about 
to leave her alone. She nearly smiled and rested her head too, closing her eyes. 
She had to catch a nap or she wouldn't stay on her feet. It was hard to do that 
with so many people walking down the corridors, despite the nightly hour. 
 
Just before she dozed off, fresh shock rushed through her. Sanpaku, she 
remembered. Miss Jansu had told Mulder to watch out. Was this what she was 
talking about? And if so, how did she know? How could she have ever known that 
he would be the victim of robbery? 
 
How could anyone have known? 
 
 
Part five
 
Mulder woke up gradually to a world of confusion with people hovering over and 
taking care of him. He was all too familiar with the scenery; hospitals all 
smelled the same and looked alike. He didn't care for them. He didn't care for 
the tube down his throat either and the pain that took over his body. He 
couldn't tell if Scully was in the room. If she were, he couldn't remember 
seeing her. He was alone in that world of confusion and. beeping noises of the 
monitors
 
What he did recall afterwards was the extreme cold; they'd removed his clothes 
and worked on the knife wound and all the damage underneath it. He could feel 
their hands probing him. They were talking about him and thought he was out of 
it, he could tell they had feared for his life. They allowed a stranger's blood 
to rush through his veins to replace the amount he had lost. Even in his sub 
consciousness, Mulder was aware of the fact that a bleeding artery was 
threatening his life. By the time he was brought to the OR, he was oblivious to 
everything. 
 
Hours later, the agent woke up in recovery with doctors and nurses nearby. The 
tube was still down his throat. He hated it and fought against it, but gentle 
hands were swift to clam him. He was reassured that all was fine and that he 
would be okay. Too tired to attempt anything further, he no longer struggled. 
 
He fell asleep again, only to wake up in a semi-private room where machines 
convinced him that he was still alive. The tube was gone. Scully was there, 
looking at him intensely before giving him a broad smile, as he managed to look 
at her for longer than a few moments.  
 
"You're awake."
 
"I think so," he groaned. "Or is this hell?"
 
"Not likely." 
 
He coughed as he tried get rid of the aching feeling in his throat, that 
revealed he must have been on a respirator for quite some time. He wasn't 
feeling too much pain though. He felt quite comfortable, in fact. Doped up. They 
were giving him the good stuff. 
 
"What did you do?" she quipped, as she fed him ice chips. "Piss off more 
diplomats?" 
 
Mulder shook his head as he sucked on the ice, trying to recall what had 
happened. All he remembered was the sharp sting in his side, and the gun being 
shoved in his face. Before, between and after, were a big blur. 
 
Scully instantly noticed that her partner wasn't exactly in a talkative mood, 
and covered him up with blankets. He felt cold. She stroked his forehead and 
kissed him gently as he closed his eyes and allowed his mind to drift off. 
 
"Rest," she whispered as Skinner entered the room and watched them. "It will get 
better."  Mulder had no difficulty obeying Scully. It worried her that he wasn't 
eager to ask any questions. In fact, it frightened her more than anything. The 
one thing that separated Mulder from most people was his spirit. If some day he 
would lose that, he would no longer be Mulder.  "Get well," she whispered as she 
leaned forward to kiss his forehead. He was burning with fever. 
 
Scully took her boss outside and closed the door gently. 
 
"He's not well," she said worriedly. 
 
"What do you mean? The doctor said he would be fine, and he's awake and 
talking."  
 
"That's not what I mean, sir. I mean mentally. He barely spoke two words to me. 
He's confused and upset." 
 
"You couldn't have expected him to recite books, could you? After all he's been 
through, it should be normal for him right now, not wanting to talk about 
anything." 
 
"No, it's something else, sir. I know that he's not feeling well. He's reliving 
the ordeal." 
 
"Isn't that normal? He was stabbed in the back, for goodness sake."
 
"I know sir, but those risks are in our everyday lives," Scully tried to 
explain. "This time, in this case, he was attacked beyond his will or reason. He 
couldn't have seen it coming. I think that he will start to show standard victim 
behaviour soon. He'll feel unsafe and wonder why this has happened to him. For 
the first time in his life he has become an unwilling victim of an ordeal that 
happens to many people. Only, it nearly cost him his life."
 
"Then it's up to us to make sure he'll feel otherwise, isn't it?' Skinner 
grunted. "Like any other victim, he needs reassurance and protection to get past 
these feelings." 
"I hope that will be enough, sir." 
 
Skinner felt a shiver run down his spine, as he watched Scully's worry change 
into a strange despair he hadn't seen before. Mulder had nearly died because of 
a stupid robbery. If it had to end, did it have to be this way?, So meaningless 
and downright stupid? 
 
If a law-enforcement agent ever thought about death, he usually associated it 
with a heroic one; going down while saving lives was their motto. It was that 
what drove sailors in the past, to give up their seats on boats to passengers 
when there wasn't enough room for everyone. It was part of a sense of 
obligation, which made the sacrifice at hand seem worthwhile. 
 
Scully walked back inside and sat by her partner's side. Skinner had convinced 
her to catch some sleep in an empty room on the same floor, while he stayed with 
Mulder over the past few hours, before dawn broke. Scully had reluctantly 
agreed; she had wanted to be with Mulder when he woke up. After Skinner's vow 
that he would fetch her as soon as something changed, she had taken up the 
offer. 
 
Terence Davis from his side, was taking care of the Task force that looked for 
the robbers; he had called to inform them on that, as soon as he was able to 
walk out of the early meeting with the board of directors. Not so long ago, he 
had helped Mulder catch the perp who'd tried to kill Scully. Strangely enough, 
this seemed like a return of favours. Only this time they were looking for 
ordinary muggers. 
 
Davis had sent for the parking attendant to try and get a mug shot of the two 
assailants, but came up with nothing but a description of clothing. A team was 
scanning all the security tapes that might show anything out of the ordinary. No 
one had seen the attackers enter the lot; they might have been waiting in the 
shadows for several hours to pick out the right victim. 
 
For now, there nothing else anyone could do. The chance of ever finding the 
assailants was slim though. By now, the FBI rental car could be in Detroit, 
disassembled or shipped out to Mexico, and the attackers would have faded into 
the shadows, drugging themselves with the blood money that had nearly cost 
Mulder's life. Scully hoped they would be stupid enough to use Mulder's credit 
cards, but didn't count on it. 
 
Scully watched her restless partner sleeping.  He stirred and muttered while he 
was out of it. He was not at ease and had difficulty struggling with memories, 
even in his sleep. 
After a while, a nurse came in and gave him a sedative that relaxed him. She 
stretched her legs and back, trying to make the best of the long night and day. 
Skinner came back with a few magazines, some coffee and sandwiches that she 
quietly absorbed. Their boss stayed with her in silence, watching her just as 
intently as he did Mulder. He feared for both their health, wondering what would 
happen if one of them would ever die. All hell would break loose. 
 
"Shouldn't you be somewhere, Sir?"   He had shaken his head. 
 
"I'm here on my time off." He had grabbed one of the magazines and started 
reading, knowing she wasn't in the mood to talk. 
 
Finally, as night time settled in again, Mulder stirred for the second time that 
day and opened his eyes. She could tell instantly he was feeling better; more 
relaxed but still in physical pain. He had slept for so long that it worried he, 
now and then. She was used to insomniac-Mulder. 
 
Skinner remained where he was as Scully approached her partner. She needed this 
time alone with him so he stayed in the shadows, knowing Mulder would not be 
aware of his presence, and then he got up and left the room quietly. 
 
"Can I get you anything?" she asked worriedly, as her partner opened his eyes 
and recognized her, rewarding her with a smile. 
 
"No, I'm fine. Hungry though."
 
"Good." She caressed his hair and toyed with his fingers, feeling the warmth of 
his skin. He was doing better, she could tell. "'I'll get you something." 
 
Behind her, Mulder noticed Leno on was on television with the sound muted; 
George Clooney was on. The hospital was very quiet and Scully looked extremely 
tired. 
It almost seemed as if they were alone in the world. He wasn't aware of the fact 
that Skinner was in the same room. 
 
Mulder saw a bouquet of flowers standing on the table. He wondered whom they 
came from. The Lone Gunmen, he imagined. They would be the only ones sending 
Chrysanthemums into a hospital room, as a weird practical joke. 
 
"I'm alive," he said quietly, after Scully rang the bell for medical help and 
smiled that most beautiful smile, she only reserved for times of distress and 
baseball. He had seen it before and remembered waking up earlier that day. It 
had to be night time now since he could see the darkness through the open 
curtains. 
 
"Yes, you are. You were lucky too."
 
"What happened?"
 
"We were hoping you could tell us?" Scully grinned eagerly, happy that he was 
willing to talk about it this time and ask questions. "They found you in the 
parking lot, stabbed in the back. You were mugged; the car was taken, along with 
your keys, cell and wallet."
 
"Two punks," Mulder mused quietly. "I never even saw it coming. I was too eager 
to get into the car. I didn't pay attention." 
"You were stabbed from behind. They were waiting for someone to enter the lot 
obviously, unfortunately that was you. Your left kidney was hit and an artery 
was severed, but the damage has been repaired. You lost a lot of blood but 
you've had several transfusions since last night. You were lucky, Mulder." 
 
"Yeah, I guess I was."
 
Mulder closed his eyes to relive the moment. Why hadn't he heard them? Why had 
he not seen them coming? Why had they taken him of all people? Was he at the 
wrong place at the wrong time, or had he let his guard slip like he'd done when 
Scully was shot? Had he been whammied again? No, that couldn't be. He'd been the 
victim of a mugging, nothing more, nothing less. 
 
They had wanted his bloody rental car and were not in the mood to talk about it. 
Hit first and then talk had been their motto, then he remembered them debating 
over killing him. They had wanted to destroy him because he was an FBI-agent, he 
almost laughed at the irony. Take a number, boys. 
 
Mulder's dreams were filled with reliving that moment when he felt life slip 
away from him; there was nothing much he could do about it. The moment the blood 
started flowing out of him, he'd been tempted to go to the other side and get it 
over with. He'd known then that he could die, and when the gun was aiming at 
him, he'd almost welcomed the bullet that would release his pain. It would have 
made the journey to the other side briefer. 
 
He had never been the victim of a mugging before. Usually he was the stronger 
one, the saviour; the FBI-agent who came to help people. He'd never experienced 
being an innocent victim before. For the first time, he had no control over the 
events. The events had taken him completely, nearly winning. 
 
A nurse entered, disturbing his gloomy thoughts. She put a bowl of jello down in 
front of him.
 
"Will you be able to eat it yourself, or do you want help, Mr. Mulder?"  
 
"I'll be fine."  He took the bowl from her hands, as she pulled up the 
bedclothes a bit, pushing the pillows comfortably around his back. He groaned as 
his stitches objected painfully. 
 
"If you need anything, let me know," she said and left. Mulder sat quietly with 
the bowl of sickly looking gunk in his hands and stared at it. The jello 
wobbled. He shoved the bowl onto the table, looking out of the window instead. 
 
"Mulder?" Scully leaned over him, obviously very worried about the agent's state 
of mind. She knew him so well, he thought wryly. He would never convince her he 
was doing better. "Are you okay?"
 
"No," he admitted. "I was just thinking about those guys." 
 
"Could you identify them?"
"  I don't think so. They wore pull down caps."  
 
"Their voices?"
 
"Like anyone else's. There was nothing out of the ordinary about them. They were 
punks trying to score. They took the car, they could have asked for it, but 
chose to stab me first. Nothing much I can do about that, is there?" 
 
"There is plenty you can do. You can help us find them."
 
"I can't," he groaned, "You'll never find them."
 
"We can try."
 
"Don't bother, Scully. It's over. I'd like to get some rest now, if you don't 
mind." 
 
"Okay then," she hesitated. "'I'll stay here." 
 
Mulder knew he didn't have the energy to protest against Scully's intention to 
spend the night; she'd already been here for the past twenty-four hours anyway. 
She wouldn't go now, besides he wanted her to be here, to chase away the sudden 
fear that this could happen again; that somehow, death had chosen him as its 
next victim. 
 
"Nice flowers," he whispered hoarsely, closing his eyes. 
 
"Yeah, they are." She held his hand until he fell asleep and looked at the 
decorative display of blooms. She hadn't even noticed them earlier. Skinner must 
have sent them.  
 
 
Part six
 
In the middle of the night, they stood in Mulder's apartment, looking at his 
belongings, not caring one bit for their possible value. They were not here to 
rob: they came to destroy his apartment, or at least those parts of it they 
wanted to destroy.  
 
"Get started," the first man ordered, noticing how the second one hesitated for 
a while. He was not so keen on doing the destructive work, especially after he'd 
already been involved in a murder attempt. Hadn't they gone far enough? 
 
The two of them worked their way swiftly through the apartment, leaving no room 
untouched. It took less than an hour and was as damaging as anything they had 
ever done before. As they left, there was nothing left of the decoration that 
wasn't ruined, Fox Mulder's apartment was left an unattractive mess; in fact, it 
needed a good makeover. 
 
 
Part seven
 
The one thing that anyone could say about Mulder was that he recovered quickly. 
The doctor's noticed especially the remarkable speed with which he was able to 
recuperate. 
 
Thank God for small mercies, Scully thought, as she returned from a restless 
night at home to find him alert and awake in the early morning. He was sitting 
up in bed, nibbling on a piece of toast. A cup of tea was standing ready next to 
another bowl of cereal. 
 
"I hate hospital food," he complained around a mouth filled with crumbs.  She 
laughed. 
 
"I know, and you hate their tea too."
 
"No, I don't. I used to drink it by the bucketful back in Oxford, but this 
cereal stuff is just disgusting. I wouldn't even feed it to my fish."
 
"Your fish would die." 
 
"Probably. So, when can I get out of here?"
 
"Not for a day or two, I'm afraid," Scully said as she lingered on the side of 
her partner's bed. "You've had major emergency surgery, remember?"
 
"Oh yeah, I forgot. I'm still feeling nothing though. It itches now and then, 
and hurts when I move too much." 
 
"You're still drugged, by the time the good stuffs worn off, you'll regret even 
moving." 
 
"'So I am doing well?" Mulder asked, tilting his head a bit as he refused to eat 
another spoon of the awful cereal-like crap they wanted to force down him. 
 
"Yes, you are. There's nothing beyond repair."
 
"Good," his eyes lit up. "I can't wait to get out of here."  Scully laughed. 
 
"That's the Mulder I want to see."  He looked at her strangely. 
 
"Are you saying I wasn't myself the other night?" 
 
"Mulder, you were sad and worried last night. You were hurting, I could tell, 
and I was afraid you would still feel depressed this morning. I'm just glad to 
see you're up to your old tricks again." 
 
"I'm okay," he nodded self-assuredly. "I just felt horrible last night, you 
know."
 
" Sure, You remember then what happened to you, and the way you felt about it?" 
 
"Every single detail," he sighed. "I was the victim of a mugging, Scully; 
nothing more, nothing less. It could've happened to anyone, and it happened to 
me. Serves me right for parking the car in the back of the lot and in the 
shadows. It's just crappy that I couldn't do anything about it. I felt 
powerless." 
 
Scully looked at her hands, knowing she had something else to say that would not 
sound pleasant. Something she'd seen earlier that morning and had worried her 
beyond anything else.  
 
"What?" he asked, seeing the uncomfortable expression on his partner's face? 
"What is it?"
 
"The guys who stole your car, broke into your apartment last night. They wrecked 
the place. To be honest, I didn't even think they would dare do this. We had a 
police officer guarding your building but he didn't see anything." 
 
"What?"
 
"They threw paint on all the walls, destroyed the carpet and smeared the 
windows. Strangely enough, they didn't touch any of the hardware. Your TV is 
still intact as well as the VCR, DVD-player and your computer: it all remained 
untouched. They just ruined everything else."  
 
"I see." Mulder leaned back in the pillows and sighed. "Ah well. We should have 
expected that. As long as they didn't kill my fish, I don't care."
 
"The fish are okay. Slightly green and blue now, but okay." He smiled; laughing, 
until he almost cried as he nearly burst his stitches, realizing that the good 
stuff was wearing off. 
 
Mulder was slowly feeling better, noticeable by anyone entering the room. Davis 
came to talk to him, as did Skinner. Tom Fielding, working in the Dallas Field 
Office now, popped over to say 'Hi,' as he happened to be in DC for a case. So 
did a few other colleagues from the VCU. Mulder felt strangely pleased that they 
would all come to see him; he realized that he did have friends within the FBI, 
and that did him the world of good. Even Daniel Verlaine, who helped him after 
Scully's shooting, had popped in to see him. 
 
Mulder did his best to sound animated and in good spitits but it was getting 
harder as he slowly built up a splitting headache. 
 
"I am lurved," Mulder grinned broadly, yet weakly after the sixth visitor of the 
day had left. 
 
"Lurved and tired." Scully grabbed her coat, nearly dropping the contents of her 
bag onto the floor. "I'm going to leave you to get some rest. How's that? I'll 
tell the nurse to have you left alone for a while. You really do look as you 
could use some time on your own." 
 
Mulder felt too fatigued to answer and just smiled. 
 
"Thanks, darling," he mumbled as his eyes drooped. She couldn't help but smile 
as she closed the door behind her. He was almost out of it, by the time she was 
on her way out into the corridor.  
 
Mulder heard the door open and close. He opened his eyes and saw a nurse grab 
the flowers on the table near the window, pouring extra water into the vase 
using the small bathroom sink. She placed the flowers on the table again, before 
she came over to his bed; fiddled with the bed sheets and looked at him 
intently, he noticed through partially closed eyes.
 
"Are you alright, Mr. Mulder?" she asked with a pleasant voice.
 
"Yeah."
 
"Can I get you anything else?"
 
"No. It's okay." 
 
"Goodnight then. Take care. Don't let the bedbugs bite."
 
"Night.'" Mulder opened and closed his eyes for a second, only to notice that 
Scully's cell phone lay on the table next to the flower vase. 'She'll get that 
back in the morning', he thought. 
 
Mulder was already asleep by the time the nurse had left the room and closed the 
door. His body relaxed for the first time. He was feeling strangely happy; 
comforted by his visitors and the hospital's security net that protected him 
from other muggers and assailants. 
 
He hadn't wanted to admit it to Scully, but the fear was still there. He could 
have laughed at the fact that his apartment was ruined, but in the end, 
strangers had intruded on his home and had invaded his privacy. Although he was 
used to that by now, he still couldn't really get accept this last intrusion, it 
was a scary thought. 
 
Mulder's hand itched. He dabbed at it instinctively, feeling a slightly sharp 
sting into his skin; he must have touched something in his sleep. Then another 
stinging sensation followed, then another, and another. He could do nothing 
against this, as his mind told him to get some sleep, until his exhausted body 
finally followed orders. 
 
Bedbugs went through his mind as he slumbered into darkness, feeling something 
crawl over his lower arm. 
 
All of a sudden, his body seemed to slide into oblivion; his mind couldn't fight 
the urge to descend into darkness. He was doing okay, he thought, Yeah, he was 
doing much better now. He just wanted to get some sleep and forget there was a 
world out there, he belonged to; an everyday world where everyone went about 
their business. He was part of it, and yet he wasn't. He was in his own world 
now, where nothing was as it seemed and he was alone with his demons. 
 
He couldn't feel his mind drift off, or feel his body; but he did sense the loss 
of control, the way he could no longer grasp onto reality. His bodily functions 
deteriorated within a few moments, and his mind no longer fought for 
consciousness, He was a victim of his own mind, trapped inside oblivion. 
 
There was no one to stop him from being sucked into the abyss; he could just 
slither into it and go with the flow and in the abyss, the demons waited. It was 
that easy. 
 
 
Part 8
 
"Damn it," Scully groaned, already halfway between the hospital and her home. 
She had wanted to call Skinner, to tell him that she would take care of Mulder's 
apartment in the morning, only to realize she'd left her cell at her partner's 
bedside. She felt naked without the phone; vulnerable and out of reach from the 
outside world. She glared at the clock in the car's dashboard, nearly nine. She 
sighed deeply as she made an unexpected U-turn, which scared the life out of the 
driver behind her, and hurried back to hospital. 
 
 
Part 9
 
Somehow Mulder sensed something was terribly wrong with him. He felt almost 
paralysed as he lay in bed, trying to get a grip on the troubled feelings within 
his mind. He was trapped inside his own body, struggling against the darkness 
that overwhelmed him; he tried to fight harder to reach the surface. He didn't 
succeed. 
 
Suddenly his consciousness returned and he was gasping for air. His hand moved 
across the bed, towards the buzzer; the only call for help he could muster. He 
finally was able to open his eyes and stare at the ceiling; it seemed to fall on 
top of him. He watched the shadows as they moved across its surface. A single 
light burned inside the room, allowing more ghosts to enter as he stared at 
them, wondering what they meant. They seemed to be everywhere and formed figures 
in the dark, soon they surrounded him, his lassitude allowing them to enter his 
mind and take over. They formed butterflies and spiders and ants; monsters, 
creatures and scary humans from his past, whom he'd long thought were dead. 
 
He thought he saw a shadow that looked like Scully between them; he stretched 
out his arm and his fingers became longer, in their attempts to reach her. He 
was in awe as he stared at his hands. 
 
The shadows became coloured figures. He smiled and laughed; feeling safe as they 
engulfed him, cherished him and loved him. Even the monsters were not so scary 
anymore. 
 
"Wonderful!" he cried out, but he couldn't know that he was only screaming in 
his mind. Not a single word left him, as his eyes took in something only he 
could see, until he was totally trapped inside his own hallucinations, the 
second they became ghastly creatures of the night. 
 
He was tired, but fighting back, as he reached to sit up, then something crawled 
over him. He could feel it. 
 
"Ahh...," His hand instinctively shoved aside whatever was on his arm, onto the 
floor. He was starring at a spider, then more spiders, there were others lying 
flattened on top of his bed; their remains as gruesome as that of any dead 
creature. 
 
The shadows started to threaten him even more. He could tell they were becoming 
more aggressive and angry with him. He swallowed away the dryness in his throat, 
becoming aware of the fact he'd probably been bitten by those spiders. He wanted 
to shout but couldn't get a single syllable out of his mouth. He felt nausea 
creep up from within and his head swam; a splitting headache cut through his 
skull, piercing the skin behind his eyelids. 
 
He tried to focus on the wall before him, in order to focus, but he needed to 
call someone. Someone, somewhere had to help him. His fingers reached for the 
button as the spiders crawled on the floor, passing his feet and toes. He pulled 
them up, horrified at the sight of them. They weren't too large but looked like 
nasty little critters. If they had injected their poison into him, anything 
could happen; but poisonous spiders? Here? 
He shivered with cold as he pushed the button, needing to get out of the room, 
away from them; towards freedom and safety. 
 
His hand ached now as he stared at the dark red spots. He counted four. 
 
He slipped barefoot onto the lino, staring at the figures making patterns on the 
floor. He felt like an ice skater that had suddenly lost his balance. 
 
"Scully." 
 
He slipped forward and felt his body fall, having no control over it anymore. He 
fell on his stomach and the stitches in his side tore with the strain of impact, 
his eyes catching sight of the two living spiders. They crawled into a corner of 
the room, seeking darkness and security, more frightened of him than he was of 
them. 
 
'Scully, help.' 
 
He wanted to cry out her name but couldn't, alone in the dark. She'd said she 
would not allow anyone to disturb him anymore. At this rate, by the time someone 
had found him, he might be dead. He could feel his life under threat as much 
now, as he had when the knife slashed had through him. 
 
In his mind's eye, he saw Mariko Jansu's face before him. 
 
'You are Sanpaku,' she said over and over again. 'Your eyes are the eyes of 
death. You are in danger. You are going to die. You did not listen to me.' 
 
"You're right," he groaned as he crawled towards the door, pushing it open with 
a final burst of strength. "I didn't. Listen." 
 
His body nearly collapsed straight into Scully's arms, as she cried out his 
name. She lowered him to the floor, trying to get him to respond. 
 
 
Part 10 
 
"Three spots on his other hand, they look like bites but could be anything. Get 
blood work done stat. Quickly, turn him on his side, he's going to vomit." 
Mulder felt his body being pulled and pushed onto his side, as everything he had 
inside of him struggled to find a way out. His body retched and he could do 
absolutely nothing about it, just wanting to slip back into the dark abyss that 
had claimed him before. 
 
"I think he's awake. Mr. Mulder, can you hear me?" 
 
"Mulder?"
 
"Mulder, listen to us." He groaned. 
 
"Mr. Mulder, open your eyes. Try to concentrate. Stay alert. Do you know what 
happened to you? Can you tell us?" 
 
He had difficulty gathering his thoughts. He was completely out of it, sensing 
only that splitting headache that was cutting open his skull, and the dryness in 
his throat, accompanied with the disgusting taste of bile. He felt ghastly. The 
moment he opened his eyes, he saw two versions of everyone in the room. They all 
had strange faces, as if he was in a mirror palace and they were posing in their 
funniest outfits; he could barely stay awake, let alone talk to them. 
 
Twin Scully's appeared before him; their mouths were strangely distraught and  
their noses seemed much longer. He laughed. 
 
"You're looking funny." 
The two images merged into one and she grasped his right hand. He could feel 
irritating patches on his left hand as he was pushed down on his back to stare 
into blinding, bright lights. 
 
He was back in the ER. 
 
"Mulder, it's me," she said, grasping his attention. 
 
"I know," he moaned as the pain returned in full force. He felt crappy. 
 
"What happened? Can you remember a bite, or a sting? Anything?" He had to think, 
trying to remember the crawling on his hand and arm. 
 
"Spiders." 
 
"Spiders?" she asked worriedly. "Where?"
 
"Room." He swallowed away the dryness, sensing fevers rushing through him. His 
body would not obey his mind and he needed to get out of here. 
As Scully moved out of his sight, he could feel a sting in his arm and instantly 
struggled against the tight grip that held him. The spiders were back!
 
"No," he groaned, fighting off the strong hands holding him down. "Go away!" 
The doubles of the people working on him all became a blur, morphing into giant 
creepy-looking spiders that crawled over him with their hairy legs. He had to 
run. 
 
"Let me go!", he screamed, forcing them away from him. If he only wriggled hard 
enough, they would let go, but they didn't. He stared at them. He had seen them 
before: big, giant bugs out to get him; he'd become a zombie soon if he didn't 
stop them. 
 
"Hold him, he's out of control!" a male voice said, as Scully came back into 
view. She grasped his hand again and leaned over him so that he could see her. 
Her other hand touched his face, her voice sounded soothing. 
 
"Mulder, you're safe now," she told him firmly. "They're trying to help you."
 
"No, they're going to cut me up! Scully, you've gotta help me." 
 
"I am helping you. I won't let go. Trust them, Mulder. It's okay."
 
"No, they'll kill me." 
 
"They won't."
 
"They will!"
 
"They won't, I swear it. Look at me, Mulder. Trust me. I'm here. I won't let go 
of you. Just listen." 
 
Scully felt despair as she stared at her very sick partner. He struggled so hard 
with the hallucinations that had him in their grip, that it became hard to see 
him like that. He was sweaty, sick and very much in another world. She knew he 
hardly saw her through the haze of drugs that they were giving him, hoping they 
would kick in soon and take care of his hysteria. 
 
Spiders, he'd said, although she'd seen nothing when he first startled her, 
coming from his room; he'd practically thrown himself out of the door and into 
her arms. She had called for help and moved him onto his back, releasing his 
airways but he wasn't responding to her. He had vicious red spots on his hand 
and lower arm. He'd definitely been bitten by something, she could tell, but had 
no idea what it was. 
 
Finally, they managed to calm the agent down a bit. He no longer fought them off 
and was now focused on Scully. He needed to see her in order to stay calm, they 
realized and Scully was not willing to move anyhow. 
 
Mulder closed his eyes as the first antibiotics flowed into his body, 
accompanied by a heavy sedation that would keep him calm, instantly loosing 
consciousness as the drug hit his veins. 
 
"Have you found anything in that room?" Scully asked the night nurse who had 
called for help. She wasn't an expert on spiders or their poison. Whatever this 
thing was, it did its job thoroughly and quickly. 
 
"No." 
 
"I need to go take a look," Scully sighed," If there were spiders in that room, 
they might still be in there."
 
"Go ahead, he'll be unconscious for some time," Dr. Morris, the attending doctor 
said. "We'll keep him calm. As he's hallucinating badly, this is probably the 
best for him, although we need to quickly find out what bit him, Dr. Scully. I 
can't get an antidote started without a proper diagnosis. He could be going into 
anaphylactic shock. We have him on oxygen. I know nothing of spider bites. We'll 
need outside help, at this stage I don't know if the antibiotics will suffice. 
His reaction to the bites is aggressive and severe. He was already weakened by 
the knife attack and surgery. We can't afford to wait too long."  
 
"Get that blood work done quickly, I'll be right back," Scully pleaded as she 
reluctantly left the ER to return to Mulder's room. She didn't want to leave her 
partner but she had to find what had bitten him, otherwise it could already be 
too late. 
 
As she rushed towards her partner's room, she bumped into Skinner just leaving 
the elevator, who at the same time, was heading for Mulder's room. She had him 
called him as soon as Mulder was transferred to the ER. 
 
"Thank you for coming," she was out of breath. "It's bad, Sir."
 
"What the hell happened? He was fine earlier."
 
"He's been bitten by something. We need to find out what it is." 
"Bitten?" Skinner's eyebrows lifted. He stared at Scully, not comprehending what 
she said at first until reality bit him in the ass. No pun intended. 
 
"'Snakes?" the A.D. heard himself say, remembering the last time his agent had 
been bitten by them. 
"Spiders." 
"Spiders?" Skinner asked no more questions as he rushed after her. In Mulder's 
room, a nurse was busy removing the bed sheets. Scully looked at her 
inquisitively; no one changed bed sheets in the middle of the night unless she 
already believed Mulder was dead and the room was vacant. 
 
"Stop what you're doing," Scully ordered. The nurse stared at her strangely.
 
"Why?"
 
"There might be poisonous spiders in this room. Close the door.'" The nurse 
reluctantly responded. As they closed the door, Scully got on hands and knees to 
check out the floor, while Skinner checked the closets. 
 
"Be careful. They're most likely vicious biters."  
 
"Okay."
 
Scully carefully checked every corner of the room, as the nurse watched her from 
the door. She'd thrown the bed sheets onto the floor when she noticed something 
crawling on them.  
 
"Wait," the nurse called out, staring at the remains of what used to be a 
spider. Scully carefully lifted the sheet to take a better look. She felt relief 
surge through her as she realized that it wasn't a Black Widow, At least that 
was something, but it was still another poisonous species that had to be 
identified.
 
"I've got another one!" Skinner yelled as he waved at Scully, while focusing on 
the small spider sitting in the corner of the room, stuck between the closet and 
the wall. The creature had sought shelter in the dark. "Careful. Careful."
 
 Scully approached her boss, staring at the small arachnid in the corner of the 
room; there was another one behind it. They seemed so tiny and so senseless, but 
they were destroyers. Killers. 
 
"Get me a jar or something," Skinner ordered. "And something to scoop them 
inside with. We can't afford to touch them." 
 
The nurse rushed outside and returned less than a minute later with a jar and a 
spatula. It took three attempts to catch them, and then both spiders were 
finally in the jar and sealed away. There were two different species, by what 
they could tell from size, shape and colour. 
 
"Gotcha," Skinner yelled in triumph as he showed Scully the jar. 
 
"We need an arachnologist. Do you have any idea what these things are?" she 
asked. 
 
"Shouldn't be too hard to find out."
 
"Mulder doesn't have time," Scully told him angrily, as they rushed through the 
corridors back to the ER. "How the hell did those things get in that room?" 
 
"Let's find that out later. Right now we need to help Mulder. I'll get in touch 
with the Bureau. We've got a spider expert working right here in D.C., he'll 
find out for us." 
 
As they returned to the ER, Scully held her breath as she learned that her 
partner was not doing so well. He was still out of it, and was suffering even in 
his unconsciousness, from acute nightmares and hallucinations. He was strapped 
down to the bed, to Scully's astonishment. The fevers were at a high peak and 
he'd deteriorated in less than ten minutes. 
 
"He's panicking," the doctor said. "We can't keep him sedated for long, his 
heart rate's going through the roof and he has a raging fever. We're doing 
everything we can to get his temperature down. What have you found?" 
 
Scully stared at her partner's body being treated with ice packs. She hated 
seeing him like this. Shivers ran down her spine as she came to grasp the 
seriousness of his physical state. 
 
"We've got the spiders." Scully showed him the jar. 
 
"Any idea what they are?"  
 
She sighed, frustratedly.
 
"None." 
 
"I know what these are," an ER-nurse said, looking at the creatures in Scully's 
jar. "At least this one; it looks like a hobo spider, and the other one, I don't 
know what that one is, but it seems to be a member of the Clubionidae-family."  
The others stared at her. 
 
"You know. Sac-spiders." 
 
"And?" 
 
The nurse looked at her. 
 
"He's dying!" Scully heard herself shout. "Start talking, woman!" 
The others in the room thought she had gone crazy, but Scully didn't give a 
damn. Her partner was on the verge of death and someone needed to move. 
 
"Well, they're quite poisonous. I examined them a while ago for a medical study. 
I worked in Australia for a while where there are plenty of species to work 
with, so I know a bit about them."  
 
Scully grasped her by the arm.  
 
"You've just become my newest best friend. Start talking." 
 
 
Part 11
 
Night became day again, as Scully slumbered tiredly in a chair near another 
window, in the ICU. She'd watched her partner struggle with fever and 
hallucinations; they had also reinserted a respirator to help him breath and 
relax. He'd been fighting off effects of strong sedatives, struggling against 
the restraints they'd used to protect him from hurting himself. It had been a 
long time since she'd seen him like this; she never wanted to experience it ever 
again. 
 
He wouldn't open his eyes, or respond to her, neither could he talk to anyone, 
despite the fact that the respirator had been removed and he was breathing on 
his own. She didn't even know if he was awake or alert enough to do so. She felt 
horrified that the fevers were bad enough to destroy his mind and sanity. The 
doctor voice in her whispered that people could get brain damage from such high 
fevers. 
 
It wasn't until the right antibiotics settled into his system that he was able 
to respond. When he finally opened his eyes and looked at her, she realized he 
was still Sanpaku, but she would help him fight it, protecting him for as long 
as she lived. 
 
 
Part 12
 
"What spiders?" Mulder asked hoarsely. 
 
"Sac-spiders, but it's strange that you were bitten by them. It's even stranger 
that they were in your hospital room; they usually live outdoors, but can be 
pretty dangerous, especially when your system is already compromised after 
surgery."  Scully sat at Mulder's bedside while she talked.
 
"I've done a bit of research on spiders, with the help of a nurse who knows 
about those things. This particular breed can be nasty critters. The symptoms 
you've had; the high fevers and nausea are probably from one species that bit 
you, whereas the other symptoms like the hallucinations come from the second 
type."
 
"You're not going to tell me I'm turning into Spider-man, are you?" Mulder 
groaned, staring at his bandaged lower arm and hand; the bites underneath the 
layers of bandages and salve itched like mad. 
 
"Not likely," Scully smiled, feeding her partner ice chips to take away the 
dryness in his mouth and throat. He still looked ghastly pale and sick, but at 
least he was talking again and not delirious. 
 
Mulder had never felt this weak before, literally every bit of strength had been 
sucked out of him, leaving him a human wreck. The right antibiotics, advised to 
them by an expert arachnologist who mainly focused on the hobo spider that had 
bitten Mulder, counteracted the poison that rushed throughout his system. 
 
"One spider bite from a Hobo spider is bad enough when the subject responds 
aggressively," the arachnologist had explained, "But your guy has been bitten 
four times, by two different spiders. No wonder he's hallucinating, it's odd 
though; it's rare to have two different species biting a human at the same time, 
and I've never seen that type of Sac-spider before. It's definitely not local; 
I'll have to take a closer look at that."
 
The specialist's words had scared Scully. He was talking death and destruction 
as he continued to explain that 15% of all subjects bitten ended up in hospital, 
most of those 15 percent died, by the time anyone had figured out what it was 
hurting them. It all depended on the age and gender of the spider. Older Hobo 
males were the worst, and the most dangerous. Mulder had cheated death again.
 
"The Clubionidae spider in particular, is a vicious little thing that eats its 
own mother. I have a hunch on where this breed came from, but I need to do some 
research. If I'm right, I'll let you know. In the meantime, I'll tell you all 
you need to know to treat your partner."
 
"What else do I need to know?" Scully had asked. 
 
"You don't want me to get started on spiders," the specialist had continued. 
"You wouldn't sleep anymore at night." He told her everything he knew anyhow.
 
Even now, Scully noticed that her partner was having difficulty with his 
eyesight, and trouble focusing on what she'd said. He was dreaming restlessly at 
night and was afraid of shadows and noises. Last night, he'd even slept with the 
light on, claiming that there were people standing in the shadows, and he kept 
hearing voices, as if someone was droning the same sentence over and over inside 
his head. Surely it was all in his imagination? 
 
It worried her too, that he was so cautious and suspicious about anything and 
anybody now. He demanded to have the bouquet of flowers removed from his room, 
convinced the spiders had nestled in there, and wanted to talk to the nurse who 
had wished him goodnight that evening, but couldn't remember her name. He could 
talk about nothing but the eyes of death; Sanpaku. 
 
"Don't you see, Scully?" he said on the third day after he was bitten. "It can't 
have been coincidence. Miss Jansu told me I was Sanpaku. She told me to be 
careful. I need to find out more what she meant." 
 
"Mulder, I did that already," Scully soothed him. "I thought about that 
expression too and did a bit of research on the Internet. It seems that the 
Japanese believe that people who "suffer" from sanpaku, are meant to die, but 
it's all superstition. There are thousands of people out there who have eyes 
that fit this description. Even John Lennon had them. Yoko Ono used to call him 
sanpaku too."
 
"And look what happened to him," Mulder grunted.   
 
"Mulder, it's superstition. Nothing more."
 
"Then how did those spiders get into my room?"
 
"I don't know. The flowers, like you said yourself; Spiders have the habit of 
crawling into dark places, they could have been hiding in the bouquet. It's been 
known to happen." 
 
Mulder wasn't content with that explanation. He felt there was something more to 
it than just coincidence, he didn't believe in fate. 
 
"What if someone is deliberately trying to kill me, Scully?" he blurted out 
carefully. She stared at her partner.
 
 "What?" 
 
"It could be, couldn't it? I might have pissed someone off without knowing about 
it."
 
"Who, and why? Why this way? Do you think your smoking friend is still out there 
trying to kill you?" 
"I don't know." Mulder shrugged. "Perhaps I upset them without even knowing 
about it. It's not as if I have seen an alien lately though." He sighed, 
shifting painfully. "Or maybe I just didn't pay my bills." 
 
"The arachnologist said this could happen; spiders are everywhere, even when we 
can't see them. They can be nestled near flowers or plants, in houses or warm 
places carried from elsewhere. This was an accident, Mulder. You were weakened 
before, and by the attack and your body responded badly to the bites, but that's 
all. It happens."  Mulder angrily turned his face away from her.
 
"Hey," she said, touching his skin. "Don't do that. I believe you, if you say 
that you think someone's trying to kill you, but you haven't pissed off anyone 
lately, so it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack, wouldn't it?" He 
turned his face back to her.
 
"'I pissed off a Japanese diplomat. Who sent me those flowers, Scully? They did, 
didn't they? I'm pretty sure Skinner didn't do it, and neither did you or the 
Gunmen."
 
Scully held her breath as she realized the implications of Mulder's accusations. 
If she told Skinner of this, the riot between the Embassy and the FBI would 
explode with grave repercussions within the government. She couldn't do that, 
not before she had done her own little investigation, but Mulder was right about 
one thing; the Embassy had probably sent those flowers. 
 
"Look," she said, grasping her partner's hand. "You're feeling better. I'd say 
they're going to letting you out of here in about a day or so, why don't we take 
some time off and go away somewhere, like we intended? We can take a breather 
from all we've been through and make us see things a little clearer."  He 
smiled. 
 
"I know you don't want to cause trouble, Scully, neither do I, but running away 
won't resolve a damn thing. We need to find out if they are trying to kill me, 
and why." 
 
"We can hardly burst in there and ask them, can we?"
 
"And why not?"
 
"Mulder, it's bad enough as it is, let's not go there yet. You don't want to 
start another war, do you?" 
 
"Isn't it worth it?"
 
"Not without proof. We don't know what happened, and we can't prove a single 
thing."
 
"What about that nurse?, the one who came into my room? Couldn't she be 
involved?"
 
"She was just a night nurse, Mulder; She even helped with trying to find the 
spider. I doubt she would be doing this. She is a respected nurse in this 
hospital anyhow." 
 
"Okay then," he sighed. "Why don't you just take me home tomorrow to keep me 
company? I'll take a few days off, come back to work and move on. I'm sure 
you're right; I've been hallucinating so badly that I can hardly see straight. 
Shit happens and I need to get over it. How's that?"         
 
Scully felt disappointed that he wouldn't listen to her proposal of taking time 
off, and sighed. She wanted so badly for them to get away for a while. She would 
do anything. 
 
"Whatever you say, Mulder."  
He smiled suddenly, grasping her hand. 
 
"If you want to take that break, I'll do it. In fact, I'll do anything for you, 
if it makes you happy, and you're probably right; it would do us the world of 
good." 
 
"So we're going?" she asked hopefully. He gave her a big grin. "If you can 
arrange it with Skinner and spring me outta here, we are."
 
"It's a done deal," and the broad smile she gave him lit up the room. 
 
 
Chapter two
 
Part one
 
"Baby, I'm ready to go" Mulder chanted as he sat calmly in his living room, 
impatiently watching Scully pack his things. She'd insisted on doing so, 
allowing  no, forcing - him to rest. She would be doing all the driving too, as 
they'd decided not to go too far from the Washington area. They had selected a 
smaller town called Ivory, situated near the coast. It wasn't exactly tourist 
season, so they'd had no difficulty picking out a town and booking a cosy hotel. 
Scully was really looking forward to it. She hadn't been on a break for the past 
six months and felt as if her mind was going to explode. The time off would do 
her, and Mulder good. She hated the circumstances, which brought them here, yet 
she cherished the fact they were now on their way out of town. 
 
Mulder had difficulty staring at the strange blue and green splodges that still 
decorated his home. The moment he walked into the apartment, he had held his 
breath, staring in shock at the disaster area that used to be his apartment, but 
now looked like a toddler's art canvas. Scully had tried to get things fixed 
before his return, but with the spider bite episode getting in the way, she'd 
spent more time at the hospital than anything else. She'd also regretted not 
being able to get a decorator in who could do the swift, thorough job, as she'd 
explained to her partner when she drove him home. 
 
At long last, she did manage to find a small start-up company who would come in 
to do the work while they were gone for the weekend, for a reasonably cheap 
rate, in the yellow pages. The guy in charge had promised to get things done 
quickly; so Scully had left the new set of keys with Skinner, who'd promised to 
oversee everything. 
 
Mulder groaned slightly as he waited impatiently for Scully. He had wanted to 
get out of the apartment at once; not even bothering with packing. He always 
kept T-shirts, underwear and an emergency toilet-kit with shaving gear, a 
washcloth and a small towel in his overnight bag; who needed anything else?, 
Scully had insisted on the packing, though, and had promised to be quick about 
it. 
 
"You would think we're going on a three-week trip," he'd called out to the 
bedroom where he could hear her rummaging through his closets. 
 
"I just want you to have enough clothes with you," she shouted back. "You never 
know what kind of weather it's going to be by the coast; you need to keep warm."
 
"Warm, will not do the trick," Mulder whispered quietly to himself, as he stared 
at Planet 9 from Outer Space for the thousandth time. His mind was not with the 
movie; he was tired and exhausted. He'd been feeling cold ever since the spider 
venom in hospital had done a number on his immune system. The cold came not from 
the outside, but from within. 
 
He didn't feel safe anymore. At times it felt as if those critters came back to 
haunt him. In his dreams they came to him, they were everywhere, eating him 
alive, and when he didn't dream of spider bites, he relived being stabbed in the 
back by an unknown assailant, who hid his face behind a dark mask and was always 
after him. 
 
Was there anywhere safe for him? He couldn't help wondering. That word, 
'Sanpaku,' The Eyes of Death kept on haunting him; it was stuck inside his head. 
He had wanted to talk to the Jansu woman about it, but she was out of town. He 
had phoned the Embassy himself, only to hear that she wouldn't be willing to 
talk to him. It was also pretty obvious, that no one from the Embassy would be 
willing to discuss any accusations with him either. 
 
Through Terry Davis, Mulder had received word the Japanese government had 
inquired on his health and safety, inquiring if they could do anything for him. 
Mulder couldn't help but wonder if the concern was genuine or phoney. 
 
The spiders that bit him were still being examined by the arachnologist. Davis 
was still out manning the hunt for the muggers; security tapes had delivered 
nothing. No one had seen the two enter or leave the parking lot. They were at a 
dead end. The car was gone, as were Mulder's belongings. What more could he do? 
What more could anyone do?
 
The hunch that somehow the Japanese officials were behind it, proved nothing; 
nor could be proved. For once Mulder knew he couldn't disobey orders. Skinner 
had explicitly asked him not to stir trouble when they discussed the 
possibilities.  
 
"It had to have been coincidence," Skinner stated. "I can't imagine they would 
take the risk of hurting a US official. Do you really think anyone would use 
poisonous spiders to kill you? Those creatures got carried in with the flowers, 
as you said yourself. There is no other explanation. You cannot go about 
accusing people of attempted murder." 
 
"Perhaps they know that nobody would really care," Mulder had grinned wryly. 
"They'd get a medal from Cancerman and his friends because they succeeded where 
others have failed." 
 
"I care, Mulder!" Skinner had blurted out. Mulder had grinned shyly at his boss.
 
"Walter ..."   The A.D. lost his guard for once and smiled openly. 
 
"Mulder, don't even go there. I care for you as a friend. It would be strange if 
I didn't after all this time."
 
"Do you believe me then when I tell you that I fear for my life?" Mulder had 
asked. Skinner, shocked by Mulder's sudden openness, shook his head.
 
"No, I don't believe that your life is in danger. I believe that you were the 
unfortunate victim of unfortunate events meant to kill you. You can't go on 
being afraid. I feel, as your friend and boss, that you need to talk to someone. 
You were the victim and should be treated as one. You need help. Counselling. 
Mulder, I know that there is a pattern here and we will find it. I am on your 
side." 
 
"But I do fear I'll be killed." Mulder whispered somberly. " And I'm afraid." 
 
"Why don't you tell Scully, how you feel?"
 
"I don't want her to be afraid for me."  That had left Skinner in silence even 
though they both knew Scully would never stop worrying for her partner. 
 
Mulder was staring now at his bandaged hand and lower arm. The hospital 
dressings had been replaced by smaller ones, with antibiotic salve underneath 
them to stop the bites from becoming infected. They'd told him it could be a 
while before the scars disappeared.
At least he was feeling better. The nausea had passed, as well as the horrible 
headaches that plagued him for a couple of days; his eyesight was much better 
and less blurry now too.
 
 
"Okay," Scully was holding a large overnight bag in her hand. "Let's go."  
Mulder switched off the VCR and slowly got up. This walking difficulty made him 
feel like an old man, but at least he was up and about again. It seemed as if 
he'd been in hospital for forever.  He took his warm coat and put it on, 
shivering in it. It was the warmest piece of clothing he had and it was not 
enough. "You okay?" Scully asked as she cautiously watched his every move.  
 
"Yeah."
 
"Okay then."
 
Scully accompanied her partner outside, holding onto his arm. He allowed for her 
to open the passenger door. She helped him inside, worried about his lack of 
self-confidence and strength. He smiled broadly once he sat down. 
 
"Preparation for when we turn eighty, Scully." 
 
"Oh please," she replied with a smile, realizing she wouldn't mind doing this 
with him, for the rest of her life at all. She flushed at the sudden thoughts 
that sprung to mind. 
 
"So," he said, once they were both strapped in, "Ready to go?" 
 
"Yep." 
 
"Drive on, James." 
 
Scully started the car, pulling out of the private parking lot. It was a clear 
blue day with only a few clouds hiding the sun now and then. Mulder felt his 
whole body relax, tilting his head so he could face her. She was humming to a 
song. She was right, he thought, there was nothing to fear. 
 
"You're in a good mood," he remarked.
 
"Yep." 
 
"I'm sorry, Scully."
 
'What?" She smiled and glared at him. "What for?"
 
"You work too hard."
 
"And that's your fault?"
 
"Of course it is." 
 
"I make my own decisions, Mulder. I'll decide when I have enough."
 
"This break took too long to happen though. We should make time to have more 
fun."
 
"Of course we should. But we made the decision to work our butts off ten years 
ago. I guess there's no stopping us now." He looked at her.
 
"Do you ever think about us, Scully?"
 
"Us?"
 
"Yeah. You know. If there could be more.'"  Scully almost felt her foot slip off 
the gas pedal when she grasped what Mulder was heading towards. She had waited 
for a conversation like this for a long time and now it was here; in their car 
and on their way to a small, comfortable hotel. Her heart jumped. Was this the 
moment she had been waiting forever, since he'd tried to kiss her for the first 
time? 
 
"Of course I do," she replied, feeling her throat close up. Why in god's name 
did he have to start talking about this now? She was still upset about recent 
events, remembering the many hours she'd spent, wide awake at her partner's 
bedside. She had watched Mulder for hours, watching him toss and turn in 
turmoil, until he could finally rest. He'd looked so fragile in that bed, so 
pale, so very sick. 
 
She wanted to protect him from everything evil in the world, but knew it would 
be an impossible task. He would never back down, but he would go back to work, 
take on the worst cases and get hurt all over again. It was in his blood to 
protect the good and innocent things in life. He could not do anything. He 
needed to do something. She respected that. 
 
She loved it. 
 
"And?" he asked her, awakening her from her thoughts. 
 
"And what?"
 
"What do you think, when you think about us?"
 
"I... think about what we could have," she said slowly. "If we would only allow 
ourselves to reach for it."  He watched her intently, holding his breath as she 
moved onto the freeway heading out of town. 
 
"Don't you think we are reaching for it, then?" She smiled and blurted out,
 
"Not nearly enough."  He laughed.
 
 "So, if I were to ask you to share a room, would you do it?"  She smiled. 
 
"No, I wouldn't do it."
 
"Why not?"   She groaned, realizing he was setting her up.
 
"It would ruin certain things."  He shifted closer to her suddenly, feeling 
herself flush again as she breathed in a waft of his aftershave. 
 
"But it would also make certain things better, wouldn't it?"   Her mouth dried. 
 
"Mulder, are you serious about this?"
 
"I ..." 
 
A split second later, the steering wheel started violently shaking. Mulder 
instinctively made a grab for it at the same time as Scully. Her feet reached 
for the breaks, slamming them down hard onto the pads as the car screeched, 
veering to the right, heading straight across the far side of the road on its 
collision course with other vehicles. 
 
"Scully!" Mulder's yell barely cleared his vocal chord as their car hit a Sedan 
driving next to them. The impact was ferocious; metal crashing eating into metal 
was heard for miles. 
The agents' car rebounded away like a pinball, swaying further off the road. 
Despite its loss of speed, the car hurtled back into the busy lane. 
 
"Scully!"  She heard her partner shout her name for the second time just as the 
airbag exploded in her face. Seconds later, as the vehicle crunched to a noisy 
stop in the emergency lane, she battle and lost to the black abyss that claimed 
her. Everything about her: the essence of what she was, vanished into that 
darkness with her. 
 
 
Part two
 
"Scully. Scully!"   She was hearing her name frantically called over and over 
again. 
 
"Yeah, I'm here," Scully groaned, trying to gather her wits long enough to grasp 
where and how she was. She looked up , almost smothered by the exploded airbag 
before her, covering the steering wheel. A sharp pain lanced through her head 
where the airbag was touching her. 
 
"Damn it," she groaned, blinking her eyelids. She tried to remember where she 
was, or why she was there. Memories of the crash filtered through the fogginess 
she felt. Mulder! 
 
"You're fine," she heard Mulder's relieved voice next to her. There was a strain 
to his voice she barely recognized. He was leaning over her, eyes all concern 
and fear as she felt his hand brush her face. She looked over at him and 
attempted to smile. She seemed okay. Her body ached; her hands trembled. 
He looked extremely pale. She realized he was worried about her and not about 
himself, but her first concern went out to him. 
 
"Yes, Mulder, I'm fine," she reassured him quickly. "And what about you?"
 
"I'm okay."   Although his voice wasn't that convincing. 
 
She touched his face. His airbag had exploded too, protecting him from crashing 
into the dashboard, but she could tell he was in pain by the distraught grimace 
on his face. 
 
"Are you hurt?" Her mind jumped into doctor's mode as she patted down his hands, 
arms, torso and legs, checking for injuries. He submitted to her, not objecting 
to her quick examination. She was more worried because of his lack of objection; 
She wasn't used to him this compliant. 
 
"No," he said finally. 
 
"Sure? Do you think you get out of the car?" 
 
"I think so." 
 
Scully pushed open her car door just as two vehicles stopped, several men and 
women came rushing towards them. One man grasped her gently by the arm and 
helped her out of the car. She smiled, gratefully and thanked him. 
 
"My partner," she pointed at Mulder who was being helped by other people. "He's 
been hurt recently. Please be careful with him, gentle." 
 
To her relief, Mulder was quickly out of the car and looking okay despite their 
near miss, blood slowly returning to his face. She sighed deeply, trying to 
remember what had just happened. 
 
The car had handled strangely: it had veered to the right as the steering wheel 
locked. Mulder had tried to help her and she had lost control of it. They'd hit 
another car! 
She looked around frantically for the other vehicle, only to find out it was one 
of the two cars that had stopped on the roadside. Other cars whizzing past them 
began slow down to see what had happened. 
 
"Should we call an ambulance?" someone asked; she was looking into the face of 
the woman whose car she'd hit. 
 
"Yes," Mulder said, "Scully's hurt."
 
"No, I'm okay," she immediately protested. "But it might be wise to get you 
checked out."  
 
"No, I won't go back," he snapped angrily. Scully touched him worriedly. 
 
"Are you Sure?"
 
"Yeah. Let's just get things organized and get out of here then. I want to go 
home now." 
 
"Mulder " Scully began, realizing he was no longer planning on going to Ivory. 
 
"No," he replied firmly. 
 
"Please."
 
"Forget it. I'm going home." 
 
The people helping them thought they were witnesses to a marital dispute. They 
had no idea what lay behind Mulder's hurt expression or his curt words, but 
Scully was all too aware of what he was talking about, and she dreaded every 
second of it. 
 
"I'm going back," he reiterated, staring at her with pain filled eyes before 
turning his back to her. She felt a deep shock rush through her. A few minutes 
ago they were talking serious, personal business. She was looking forward to the 
weekend, now that entire feel good factor had gone out of the window. 
 
All she could do was witness the change that passed over him. Her heart hurt for 
him. She knew exactly what he was thinking, but she would have to deal with that 
later. Right now, somehow, she was going to get him to Ivory, no matter what it 
cost her but Mulder had already grabbed his cell phone and called Skinner. She 
could hear him asking for them to be picked up. He had made the decision for her 
and she couldn't be angry with him for it. She knew why he wouldn't look at her, 
and decided to return to DC. 
 
In his mind, there was no other choice. She sighed and tried to concentrate on 
the practicalities. Everything else would have to wait. She just prayed that all 
the goodness about to happen in their private lives was not lost. 
 
 
Part three
 
They sat quietly in Skinner's car on their way back to D.C. Mulder had taken a 
seat in the back; as he usually did when he didn't want to talk. His eyes were 
focusing on the outside world, listening to the silence, seemingly in a world of 
his own now. She could tell by the far away look on his face, and the glare in 
his eyes that betrayed the darkness he lived with. 
 
He was in serious pain, Scully could tell. He instinctively clutched his sore 
side without even thinking about it. She knew he must have strained the still 
healing wound, reminding him of the previous attack. She wished she was sitting 
next to him and could give him some comfort and support, but he'd refused to 
talk to her for the last hour and she knew he wouldn't allow her to worry. He 
would never tell her the whole truth about his concerns; he was lost to her, for 
now. 
 
Skinner, painfully aware of the silence, drove back to town through the middle 
of a huge traffic jam caused by a serious accident. As they slid side by side 
with the other vehicles, Scully regretfully thought of the nice little hotel she 
had planned for them. She had seen photos of the place on the Internet and it 
all had seemed so lovely. Every fibre inside of her ached for peace and quiet. 
She knew she could not force him to change his mind; She just wished that he 
could get past the sudden fear that  had flared up again the second she lost 
control over the steering wheel. 
 
"Stop!" Mulder suddenly shouted from the backseat. Skinner nearly lost his 
footing, startled by the agent's sudden outburst. "Stop the car!" he repeated, 
clutching the top of the front seat. 
 
"Mulder, we're in the middle of a traffic jam. I can't just stop here." 
 
"'You have to. I want to get out. Now!"
 
"What? What the hell for?", the A.D. groaned but Mulder's dark glare stopped him 
from asking anymore questions. Skinner reluctantly drove the vehicle to the 
nearest exit and stopped on a parking lot where Mulder stepped out, cautiously 
clutching his side. Scully knew he had strained himself, but he still refused to 
allow her to take a look at it. She realized her partner was aware of the 
physical pain but not even that stopped him. 
 
Mulder's eyes were dazed and tired as he looked at them both. She read weariness 
in them that she didn't want to recognize. She forced herself to stay calm when 
he spoke again. 
 
"You need to get Scully to Ivory," the agent beseeched to Skinner. "I want her 
out of town." 
 
"Why?" 
 
"Just get her as far away from me as you can. I don't want her near me. It's too 
risky to even have her in the same car with me. She'll get hurt again." 
 
"Mulder, what the hell are you talking about?" Skinner demanded. "'Why are you 
doing this? Nothing happened. It was just an accident." 
 
"I know why," Scully spoke sadly, interrupting Skinner as she approached Mulder, 
who immediately took two steps backwards. 
 
"Don't come near me," he groaned, holding up both hands as if to stop them both. 
"I don't want you this close to me, I'm a danger to you. I'm cursed." 
 
Skinner gaped in disbelief, not understanding any of it. He stared at Mulder as 
if he'd gone mad, but Scully knew all too well. She knew he blamed himself for 
her shooting, and now he was blaming himself for this accident, the mugging, and 
the incident with the spiders. 
 
"Mulder, it's not your fault, none of this is," she spoke soothingly, trying to 
get through to her partner. His expression was one of bewilderment; his eyes had 
difficulty focusing and she could tell he was sweating slightly. Damn it, she 
thought. The exhaustion he was still suffering from when she'd picked him up 
from hospital earlier that morning was not doing him any good. His agitation and 
shock from this latest accident would only worsen things. 
Here they were, standing on a parking lot just outside D.C. arguing while they 
should have been enjoying a well overdue break in Ivory by now. She didn't like 
this reaction one bit. 
 
"If it anyone's fault, it is mine. I was driving remember? I lost control over 
the car. You didn't do anything. Not your fault, Mulder." 
 
"Like hell it was! This is the third 'accident' in the past week. I'm growing 
tired of them, Scully. I'm growing tired of getting hurt and of hurting others 
in the process. I'm growing tired of seeing you the victim of something that is 
my responsibility, caused through me. I want you as far away from me as 
physically possible. I'm Sanpaku remember?  Whatever is happening to me is 
getting worse. Anything could happen, and if you stay near me, you will die 
too."   
 
"Mulder, that's not true." Scully spoke gently as she reached out her hand to 
him. "You're going to be fine. Both of us will be. I'm okay. This accident and 
that's all it was, is nothing. We can move past this." 
 
"I'm always supposed to get past everything, all the time, right?" he spat out, 
furious at himself and the situation, swaying on his feet as he tried to get rid 
of the livid pain that plagued his head. "Nothing's real anymore, Scully. Don't 
you understand that? All of this is out of control. I am going to die. As long 
as this damned curse is upon me, I'll never be safe, not here, not anywhere. 
Don't you see that I want to protect you?"  Tears sprung suddenly in her eyes.
 
"By sending me away? By ignoring me?" 
 
"I am a walking disaster."
 
"You've told me once before I should get as far away from you as I possibly can, 
but I'm still here. I won't leave this time either. You and I are one of a kind, 
Mulder, we need to stick together." He sighed wearily as he raised his hands. 
 
"I'm tired of talking. No one listens to what I have to say." 
 
"I listen." 
 
"No, you don't. You don't understand what I am trying to say. You tell me not to 
piss off the Japanese officials but you're not exactly eager to ask them about 
this, are you? You don't believe me when I say there's more to it than this. 
I've been threatened, Scully; that's what Sanpaku is about. Mariko Jansu warned 
me I was in danger. She predicted it. How could she have known if there wasn't 
already a curse on me, as you say? That could only mean that I'm being 
threatened; that my life is in danger. Why did the car crash back there, Scully? 
Why did the steering wheel falter? Was it coincidence, or could they have 
tampered with it? Or am I just going to take this and not be able to do anything 
about it? Jesus Christ, I can't believe I'm saying this. I am going to die, 
aren't I? Something's terribly wrong about this whole situation and I can't do a 
damned thing about it. I don't know how to go from here, Scully."  
 
It didn't take an expert to see Mulder was losing it. To Scully's distress, he 
slumped forward and leaned heavily into the car, almost losing his balance. 
 
"Mulder." Within seconds she was by his side, grasping onto him, along Skinner's 
firm grip, making sure her partner didn't collapse on the spot. 
 
"I'm fine,' he groaned, shaking their hands off of him. "Leave me alone."   
 
Scully's expression was that of anger: she wanted to smack his butt right there 
and then. 
 
"No, I won't," Scully was furious now, delivering her 'don't you dare mess with 
me, Mulder' tone that she kept only for times of distress or frustration with 
either him, or their cases. Although she knew there was no way her partner would 
listen to her now. And why would he? He'd been through so much already; what if 
he were right? What if this really had only one way to go? She didn't know and 
didn't want to think about it, but if he was right and someone at the Embassy 
was after him, they had a good chance of finding out. 
 
"I won't leave you to deal with this alone," she told him firmly, staring at 
Skinner who'd not said a single word since Mulder's outburst. Her boss gave her 
a warning glance. "I didn't come this far to dump you now." 
 
"We can't run," her partner sighed, looking into her eyes "If this is a curse 
and I'm the victim, I can't turn my back and hope that this will all go away if 
we leave town. I need to know. You can't deny this, Scully. I am in trouble. We 
both are, and if you're not going to help me find out, I'd rather go back on my 
own, while you're safely away from me." 
 
Scully chewed her bottom lip, reality hitting her hard. He was right on the 
nail; she had thought it would all go away, or hoped he was wrong. She was the 
one running from reality; the one pleading with him to take that weekend off. 
Instinctively she'd hoped that it was all a bad dream; that they would return to 
work on Monday and pretend nothing had happened, but her partner had suffered 
poisonous spiders bites, he'd been attacked and stabbed, and now he'd been in a 
freak accident too. All in the time span of less than a week. All of it after 
that woman had told him to watch his back. Scully didn't believe in coincidences 
or curses. 
 
"I'm sorry," she said as she tried to force back her tears. "I thought I was 
doing the right thing. You're sick, Mulder. Hurt. I couldn't "  The shivering 
turned to shaking as her partner's face became distraught.
 
 "Scully, I'm not feeling so well. I think I'm going to " He didn't finish the 
words as his body slipped to the pavement.  Skinner made a grab for him, but was 
too late to stop the agent from dropping like a stone. 
 
Damn it, Scully thought has her heart leaped in sheer fear and her body 
instinctively moved forward to aid her partner. He never should have left 
hospital. Yet she always allowed him to persuade him otherwise.
 
 
Part four
 
"I'll call for help," Skinner said as Scully instantly loosened her partner's 
clothes and felt his throat to check his pulse. He was lying stone cold on the 
ground. She nearly freaked out until she realized he actually had a strong 
heartbeat and pulse. She sighed with relief, stopping Skinner before he could 
dial 911. 
 
"Don't," she ordered him, with a wave of her hand. 
 
"He's sick, Scully."
 
" I don't want him back in the hospital. He'd freak. He's lost consciousness, 
that's all. He's exhausted and at the end of his rope."
 
"That's all?" 
 
"Yeah. He'll be fine in a moment. He's waking up already." Her hands in 
meantime, were scanning his sides and back. To her relief, she couldn't find any 
blood; the stitches had held. 
 
Skinner watched nervously as his female agent gave Mulder's cheek a gentle pat, 
to wake him up. He couldn't imagine Mulder hadn't hurt himself badly again. He 
seemed far too pale, but Scully was in control. 
 
"Hey," she cooed with the softest voice. "It's me."
 
To the A.D.'s astonishment, Mulder opened his eyes almost instantly, dazed and 
confused, noticing that he was on the ground. Skinner knew his agent's body 
often fugued out when he worked on intense, traumatic cases. He'd seen it a lot 
before, but it still amazed him. Scully knew exactly how to deal with it, even 
though Skinner was shocked to learn that she wasn't about to send her partner 
back to hospital, which in his opinion, was where Mulder should be right now. 
She probably had reasons her reason not to, he figured. 
 
Scully helped her partner to sit up against the car door, once he'd remembered 
what had happened. Mulder seemed embarrassed with the situation and looked 
confused.
 
"Do you have any water or something with you?' she asked, not looking up at the 
AD. 
Skinner shook his head.
 
"No. There's a diner nearby where we could get something. I know this area." 
 
"That sounds like a good idea. Mulder - ?"
 
"Yeah, I can make it," the stricken agent groaned as he pulled himself up.  
 
Scully supported her friend and helped him back into the car, this time sliding 
into the back with him. Mulder was ghastly pale and closed his eyes as Skinner 
drove the car to the diner, two blocks down. If it were up to the A.D., they'd 
be heading straight for a hospital, but Scully had asked him not to do so and he 
obeyed; She knew her partner's needs better than anyone. 
 
Within five minutes, they were sitting in a booth in the far end of the diner. 
Scully ordered tea for her partner and coffee for her and Skinner. Then she 
studied the menu long and hard, finally ordering a salad each for her and 
herself and Mulder, a hamburger for Skinner , who was also famished. Mulder 
pulled a face. 
 
"I get lettuce and he gets junk?"  Scully laughed, despite everything.
 
 'You are Sanpaku remember?," she smiled, and he groaned at her joke. "She said 
you were eating too much junk as it was; but I'll make it up to you. If you 
behave like a good boy, I'll let you have a piece of apple pie for dessert. But 
you really should eat healthier first, Mulder. She was right about that." 
 
"Yummy." 
 
None of them spoke much until food arrived. Mulder didn't want to admit it but 
Scully was right. His stomach would have protested against the hamburger 
immediately. The salad went down like ... salad. 
 
Scully watched with satisfaction as he devoured the entire salad in silence. To 
her delight the colour had slowly returned to his face. She sighed tiredly as 
she finished her own salad, watching Skinner struggle with his hamburger in 
amusement. He was embarrassed to be spilling most of the content of it onto his 
plate, as he ate with both hands. 
 
"Feeling better?" she asked. 
 
"Yeah." 
 
"Good. Now you're going to listen to me."
 
Both men looked at her as if she had wisdom written in her eyes. She was amused 
by their reactions and knew she had to profit from this moment to talk sense 
into her partner. She knew she had his attention now and would have to do her 
best to keep it. 
 
"Mulder," she began, "you were right when you accused me of running away for the 
problem. The truth is that I'm afraid. I'm scared that there might be a curse on 
you somehow, and that we can't prevent things from happening. I'm afraid that 
you might wake up in the morning, walk outside and walk under a car. I guess 
that in the hospital, I refused to believe that you were the victim, and that 
those spiders being there were just bad timing, a coincidence. One of those 
stupid things that happen at the worst possible time. I know now that I refused 
to believe in the possibility, that it was anything more than that, but this 
accident today, whatever caused it and however freakish it may have seemed, has 
forced me to open my eyes and realize that you had every right to be afraid. I'm 
afraid too. I don't want to admit to it, but I am. I don't know how to protect 
you or what to do, but I just know that I need to be there for you and take care 
of you." 
 
Mulder stared at his bandaged hand while she spoke, resisting the urge to tear 
off the dressing and start scratching at the aching wounds. They represented the 
feeling he had within him: the realization that underneath the surface there was 
so much more than met the eye. 
"I know they're behind this," he intoned quietly. "I know it. I can feel it. 
That man we worked with, Asari's assistant, Eicho Etsuko, he's doing this to me. 
He said something when we left. I can't recall what it was, but that look in his 
eyes was so strong."
 
"Even with your eidetic memory?" 
 
"Hey, I don't speak Japanese." 
 
"Are you telling me he wanted those muggers to kill you?" 
 
"Perhaps he wanted them to frighten me; at least at first. Otherwise I would be 
dead by now. Or maybe I would've been dead anyhow if that parking attendant 
hadn't shown up. I don't know. I do know that those spiders in my room didn't 
get there by accident. I'm pretty certain that there's a connection tracing back 
to them. We just need to find out what."
 
"Then we will find it," Skinner was resolute. Mulder looked up startled; he'd 
almost forgotten his boss was still there. He'd been quiet all this time, 
listening to their conversation. "Mulder, just say the word and I'll be willing 
to cause an international riot, but I need to make certain that you'll stand 
behind every word of your own accusation."
 
"I don't know if I'm right," Mulder spoke softly, "but my gut feeling tells me 
that I am. We need to find Mariko Jansu and talk to her. She seemed to be an 
honest woman. She'll tell us the truth."
 
"Perhaps that's why they sent her away," Scully offered. "They learned what 
she'd said somehow."
 
"The rooms were bugged," Mulder replied. Skinner and Scully looked up. 
 
"Come on," Mulder laughed without humor, "don't tell me you didn't know. It was 
fairly obvious." 
 
"Would they have punished her?"
 
"Nah, they wouldn't risk killing her. Besides, if my gut feeling is right, we 
might be dealing with a single man's crusade."  Skinner laughed. 
 
"Sounds familiar, Mulder. You might get to like this Eicho Etsuko-character." 
 
"Who knows? If he ever learns to smile," Mulder grinned dryly. 
 
Scully's fear turned into relief when she realized her partner was doing better. 
He was smiling, joking and winking at her. He wasn't there yet, but on the road 
to recovery. 
He'd be okay. 
She hoped. 
 
"So," she enquired. "What do you think? Shall we go home together or have that 
long weekend first?"  He looked at her.
 
"Are you kidding me? You still want to go away?" She shrugged. 
 
"Look, you'd have to stay at my place anyway because they're redoing your place. 
We might as well make the best of it and take those few days off; we booked 
afterall. The trip and sea air will do us good. I'm sure Skinner wouldn't mind 
tracking down the elusive Miss Jansu." Skinner nodded. 
 
"She's right, Mulder. You need the break. Both of you do. That accident didn't 
change anything as far as I'm concerned. I could drop you off at a car rental 
agency. You might as well be spending the weekend in Ivory." 
 
"And what if I am jinxed?" Mulder asked fearfully. 
 
'Then I'll do my best to make sure you stay unharmed and safe," Scully vowed. 
"Besides, I'm a sceptic, remember? I don't believe in jinxes, curses or anything 
like that. I'll protect you."
 
He looked at her and knew she would do exactly that. She would spend every 
second of their weekend looking after him, worrying about him and at the same 
time trying to figure out what to do next. She needed this weekend, even if he 
might never be safe again. 
 
"Okay," he caved in. "We're out of here."
 
"On one condition," Scully interrupted.
 
"And that is?"
 
"You're going to sleep for the next ten hours or so." 
 
"I'm an insomniac, remember?"
 
"I don't care. If need be, I'll knock you out myself. You are dead on your feet, 
Mulder. Or do you think I have forgotten that little fainting spell you pulled 
there?" He looked guilty now. She laughed at his boyish expression, resisting 
the urge to kiss him in front of Skinner; not that it would be the first time. 
 
"You're still a patient and I'm a doctor. Just don't forget that. Your hide is 
mine this weekend, got it?" 
 
"Yes, sir!"  She laughed, wrapping her arms around him, forgetting for one 
moment she shouldn't be doing that in front of their boss. As if she cared. 
 
As they packed up and left the diner, Mulder watched his partner. They had been 
talking serious relationship stuff. What if she wanted to continue this in 
Ivory? Was he ready for this? Just an hour ago he had screamed at her to get 
away from him. He wasn't so sure that he would be able to pretend that nothing 
was wrong and move on. He just didn't know. 
 
Outside the diner, Mulder took deep breaths of fresh air. It was going to rain. 
Only a few days ago, he'd stood like this outside the Japanese Embassy feeling 
exhilarated. 
Could he ever feel that good again?
 
He saw Skinner and Scully out of the corner of his eye, watching him with a 
worried expression firmly on their faces.
 
"Let's go then," he walked over to Skinner's car, only to yanked back hard by 
his boss as a jeep going by on the driveway almost ran into him. Mulder felt his 
entire body shiver as Skinner released him.
 
"That definitely wasn't a jinx," Skinner hissed. "You should also watch where 
you're going."  Although he tried to hide it, Mulder was still shaking like a 
leaf as he climbed into the car. 
 
 
Part five 
 
As they drove to a rental car agency to pick up a vehicle for the weekend, 
Scully rang the small family hotel and asked them to hold the room until later 
that evening. She took care of business at the Avis-office and picked out a 
Ford. Being used to that type of vehicle, she decided it would be best, not 
wanting to take any chances. She even had the vehicle double-checked. 
 
As Skinner wished them a pleasant weekend, he also promised to have the towed 
car examined thoroughly, as soon as possible. The A.D. shook Mulder's hand.
 
"Take care, Mulder. But I'm not going to wish you luck since nothing will happen 
to you. Not a damned thing."    
 
"You sound like a drill captain, sir."
 
"I know. A hobby I might just cultivate. Now get the hell out of here."
 
"Thanks for your support, sir," Scully smiled, giving her boss a quick hug, who 
then turned to his own car, embarrassed, watching them leave. 
 
Nervosa settled in as soon as she left the familiar D.C. roads and headed back 
towards the freeway. They didn't speak a word to each other until they passed 
the accident site. After that she began to relax and turned on the radio. When 
she turned to take a look at her partner, she noticed that he was asleep. His 
head slumped backwards against the passenger seat, his mouth was slightly 
opened. His body lying in an uncomfortable position with his legs stretched wide 
open. 
 
Scully smiled, satisfied, turned up the heating and lowered the radio volume as 
she softly hummed. She had never felt more content. 
 
They had booked two rooms in the Winston Family Hotel in the centre of the small 
town. It was nearly ten when they arrived, but the family didn't seem to mind at 
all. They were greeted heartily. 
"Glad you could make it after all," the landlady of the house chattered as her 
husband took their weekend bags upstairs. "I was afraid something might have 
happened."
 
"It did,' Scully confessed while signing the register. "We had a little car 
accident on the way over."
 
"Oh dear, are you two alright?"
 
"Yes thanks, we're just fine."
 
"Your friend looks like he's a bit off color though," Mrs. Winston pointed out 
while watching Mulder checking out the flyers for the town and coastline.
 
"Oh, he's been rather sick. That's why we took this little trip."
 
"Are you certain you don't want one room?" Mrs. Winston asked knowingly. "I'm 
sure you don't mind me asking if you two have "
 
"No, two rooms are just fine. We're good friends." 
 
"Oh. Okay then. Here are the keys. I hope you enjoy your stay. Would you like to 
have dinner tonight?"
 
"No, we had something on the way over, but thank you. I'm sure we will enjoy it 
tomorrow." 
 
"Good to hear. Goodnight then."
 
"Goodnight, Mrs. Winston."   Mulder grinned broadly as they made their way 
upstairs. 
 
"I'm sure she thinks we are a match made in heaven."
 
"Aren't we?" 
 
"Are you coming on to me again, Agent Scully?"
 
"Pardon me; but it was you who began this conversation." 
 
"Yeah but I had no idea you would reply positively."
 
"Are you saying you regret that?"
 
"Not at all. Are you?"
 
"Never."
 
They shared a knowing glance before entering their beautifully cottage-style 
decorated rooms. From flowery curtains to matching wallpaper, to beautiful 
bedclothes, everything was nicely coordinated and no luxury was spared, within 
the room's fittings. A can of chilled water was set out with matching glasses; 
the television was displaying all the many channels they could enjoy.
 
Mr. Winston, not exactly as talkative as his wife, smiled and left, as he 
dropped off their bags. Mulder looked around in his own room, at once feeling a 
heavy weight lifted off his shoulders. Scully was right; this was a good idea. 
Two days of walking, talking and resting was all he needed right now. They could 
worry about their problems on Monday. 
 
The town of Ivory had a historical centre point that dated back to the Civil War 
era. A museum held relics from the towns historical past, an ancient library 
with valuable books and a few paintings from European artists, adorned the 
walls. Every house in town seemed to have its own history and family that went 
back generations. The family genealogies were as almost as large as the family's 
inheritances. 
 
The patch of sand by the ocean Mulder had expected, turned out to be an 
expansive and sandy beach that was perfect for long walks. Several townsfolk 
profited from the relatively mild winter weather to enjoy the bracing wind on 
their faces. Mulder still shivered in his warm overcoat but the chill that he'd 
harboured for several weeks was gone. 
 
Scully knew her partner was became more relaxed by the hour, and had actually 
gained a bit of weight during the weekend. He was eating well and felt alive 
again. He chatted about Martha's Vineyard where he grew up and the memories he 
had as a kid from the beaches. His hometown wasn't that much different from 
Ivory. 
 
At times he hugged her to himself, putting his arm around her shoulder; a gentle 
gesture that betrayed the support they gave each other, and the friendship they 
both cherished so much. They were a content couple that somehow never made it to 
second base. She was not unhappy with that. Secretly fearing what would happen 
when they eventually shared a bed and so much more. Yet she knew that day was 
becoming inevitable and couldn't help but look forward to it. She sensed that 
one day they would share so much more, for the rest of their lives. She was 
eager to look to that future to see what happiness it held for them. It was all 
within their reach.
 
Yet, she felt as if a large part of her didn't want to go there. Yet. She sensed 
that in him too. If they had become lovers before, it would have ruined so much. 
Could they really become lovers now, after ten years? Were they not meant to 
stay soul mates, and platonic friends? 
 
"A penny for your thoughts?," he smiled as he touched her nose with one playful 
finger. She looked up at him and saw the ocean breeze muss up through his hair. 
He looked much younger and boyish. And so vulnerable. She grinned at him and 
buried herself even tighter into his embrace. 
 
"I was thinking about the future." 
 
"Our future?"
"Yeah. Our future."
 
"I know what that holds in store."
 
"Do you now?" 
 
"Yeah." He seized her hand and held it open. His thumb wavered gently over her 
palm and she could feel electricity rush through her as he touched her. It was 
the most sensual thing he had ever done, a warm sensation rushed strait to her 
abdomen in a way that she found hard to ignore. Oh god, she thought. Not now. 
Don't let me lose my self-control now.  
 
"I see us together when we're ninety years old. I'll be in a wheelchair and 
you'll be walking with two canes, except when you're pushing my chair. We live 
in a condo on Martha's Vineyard between all the rich and famous, who come there 
to die of old age. And we're rich, Scully. Loaded."
 
"Really? How come?"
 
"You become a Nobel prize winner. You are the world's most famous scientist and 
invented the drug that keeps everyone healthy. You're notorious and I have to 
fight to keep you with me; instead of losing you to some other, world famous 
scientist, but in the end you stay with me."
 
"And what about you?"
 
"Me?" He laughed. "I will have finally proven the existence of extraterrestrial 
life and have made my vast fortune from doing lectures on little green men and 
their habits.  Now and then we vacation on Reticula when it's proven that the 
aliens are a peace-loving race."  She smiled as he closed his hand over hers and 
grasped her fingers. 
 
"I like that," she hummed. 
 
" Know," he gave her a gentle squeeze. "So do I." 
 
Mulder never believed that he'd be able to take his mind off of things, but he 
succeeded in doing just that during their two, wonderful undisturbed days in the 
small town of Ivory.