Broken Lives - part 2 (PG-13)

They settled him into the master bedroom for easiest access to the facilities. Scully had rented the hospital bed and equipment from several supply houses and under false names. She had the bedroom next to his. The guys were rotating in the third bedroom and the den. They insisted that one of them be with him during the night, freeing her to sleep and be with him during the day. She didn’t argue, when she’d actually seen his condition and realized how they had tried to protect her, she knew why they had insisted she couldn’t care for him alone.

He hadn’t responded to her at all on the trip up. She felt fear at what she had taken on for the first time. Relax Dana, you can handle this because you have to. He’d do it for her and she did have help – she wasn’t alone.

It was nearly morning already. Byers insisted that she rest while he sat with Mulder. The others agreed and since she saw the sense of it, finally agreed herself.

It was nearly noon when she woke. That surprised her, but knowing where he was, that he was with her again had given her the best sleep she’d had since he’d disappeared. She wrapped her robe around her and hurried to his room.

Byers looked up and smiled at her. "He’s still asleep. Go take your shower. I think Langly’s in the kitchen fixing breakfast."

Scully caressed Mulder’s face and nodded. She hurried to get ready for the day. She was pulling her hair into a ponytail as she entered the kitchen.

"Agent Scully, eggs?"

"That would be great." Frohike joined them shortly and they ate a quick breakfast before she relieved Byers.

He was still non-responsive to all external stimuli. She hung another bag of fluids. If he still couldn’t be roused she’d have to consider a feeding tube. At least he wasn’t becoming dehydrated.

There had to be drugs in his system. Why else would he be unconscious for so long. According to their sources shock had not been administered so he shouldn’t have suffered any damage from that.

She tried all day to get some reaction from him. She talked to him constantly, touching him, trying to get something. His blood pressure was pretty steady, his pulse rate rose slightly when she spoke, but he wouldn’t open his eyes. Did he not want to see her? Where had that thought come from?

The guys tried to keep her spirits up, reminding her that it had only been a few hours. She even knew they were right, but it didn’t help her guilt, which was growing steadily.

*****

It was almost as though he had decided to retreat from life. He didn’t seem to want to wake up. Any drugs that had been administered would be out of his system by now. Not want to wake? What could have happened that would cause him to retreat from life like this? What had been done to him? Had he been . . . abused? She’d performed an examination, several in fact, but this hadn’t occurred to her earlier.

If someone had done things to him that he didn’t want to recover from, what could she do? Especially since she couldn’t communicate with him.

Okay, she couldn’t communicate verbally and holding his hand wasn’t cutting it. She’d have to step up her attempts. She pulled the covers from his chest. He was wearing only the boxers; it was easier to care for him. Well, it made it easier for her now.

"Mulder, it’s me. Scully." She wasn’t going to just hold his hand now. She placed her hand on his chest – she was nervous about this. It wasn’t something they had ever done, but she was going to bring him out of this. Her hand was caressing him now and if she wasn’t mistaken his breathing was slightly more shallow. "Mulder, open your eyes, its me and I need you." Without thinking her lips had joined her fingers – she’d probably deny this if he remembered it, but . . .

His pulse rate was rising, his blood pressure too, according to the monitors. "Mulder you can hear me, I know you can. It’s me, it’s Scully. I need you to open your eyes. I have to know what they did to you."

Nothing. Why wasn’t he . . . Damn it! "Mulder wake up! I need you!" She had him by the shoulders, shaking him.

"Scully! Scully, stop it!" Frohike had her arms now. "This won’t help. Come on, take a break." He looked down at Mulder once more. "Scully? Look!"

His eyes were open and locked on Scully. "Mulder, can you hear me?" This from Frohike. Scully was frozen in shock a couple of steps behind him.

She shook herself and moved closer to him. "Mulder, thank goodness." Her hand caressed his cheek. He didn’t speak though his eyes hadn’t left her. She saw tears form in his eyes. "Mulder?" He closed his eyes again, as though escaping. "Mulder?"

"Scully." Frohike took her arm. "Why don’t you go splash some water on your face. Let me try to talk to him." She looked at him incredulously. He wanted her to leave? "I think it would be a good idea, just for a minute." She glanced over at Mulder once again. "Go on Dana." He gently turned her and led her to the door.

"Frohike . . . "

"Just give me a couple of minutes." She seemed to deflate in front of him. "It’s going to be okay." Once the door was shut he returned to Mulder’s side. His eyes were still closed, but tears continued to slip down his face.

"Mulder? Mulder can you hear me?" He turned toward Frohike’s voice and opened his eyes. "Hi guy, good to have you back. She’s been frantic with worry about you Dude."

"Are . . . are you dead too?"

That comment made Frohike stop for an instant. "Nobody’s dead Mulder."

"She is. I killed her."

"Who told you that Mulder? Where did you hear Scully was dead?" Mulder closed his eyes and turned away again. "Come on Mulder, talk to me."

"You know what happened. You know I shot her, murdered her, twelve years ago. They won’t let me die." Suddenly his hand shot out, "Help me Frohike. Help me die, please."

"Mulder, I don’t know what . . . Why do you think you killed Scully?" Keep him talking, surely he’d come out of this nightmare. He’d seen Scully, but he believed what he was saying. Twelve years? What the hell was going on?

"I saw the file, the articles. The doctor brought it all. Don’t try to protect me Frohike, help me."

"You . . . you want me to help you kill yourself?" Mulder nodded, his eyes pleading. "You need to rest Mulder. Let me think about this."

"Frohike, please. Don’t make me live."

"I . . . I gotta think about this Mulder. Just give me a few minutes." Frohike stepped back from the bed and Mulder’s hand shot out again grabbing his arm. "I’ll just be a few minutes, I need a little time." He placed Mulder’s hand back on the bed and patted it.

He shut the door behind him and found Scully waiting right outside. "Is he still awake?"

"Yeah, but he’s been through something Scully. I don’t understand it. He’s convinced you’re dead, that he murdered you . . . twelve years ago."

"What?" Frohike took her arm; she definitely looked like she needed to sit down. "No, I need to go to him, show him I’m not dead."

"He’s seen you Scully. He doesn’t believe his eyes. Wherever he’s been, they convinced him he murdered you. He said he’d seen the file and the articles."

"What file? Frohike, what’s going on?"

Byers was at the door then, "What is going on?" He brushed the hair out of his eyes, obviously still partly asleep.

"Mulder’s awake, but there’s a problem." Frohike answered him. That woke him up the rest of the way.

"Awake? Is there, is there ‘damage’?" He glanced over at Scully and quickly away.

"We don’t know. He believes, he’s been led to believe that he murdered Scully – twelve years ago." Byers sank into the chair closest to him. His mouth moved, but no sound emerged. "The kicker is," Frohike glanced over at Scully, "he wants me to help him kill himself. I think he’s also been led to believe that he’s attempted suicide and been stopped. He wants to die because of what he thinks he’s done."

"Oh my god." Scully started to rise from the couch.

"Scully. Wait a minute, his mind has been tampered with, he’s been through something we don’t understand and it’s obviously aged him – if not physically twelve years, at least emotionally. We need to ease him into this. We’re not going to let him kill himself, you know that."

"I can’t let him go on believing . . . " Her voice was shaking. What the hell had been done to him?

"Scully, try to calm down. We’ve got him now; we’re going to bring him back. We just need to take it slowly."

"How! How can we take it slowly if he wants to kill himself?" Byers moved over to her and put his arm around her.

"Take it easy Scully. Let us talk to him. He knows Frohike is still alive, let us handle this for a little while." Byers looked into the tear filled eyes of this traumatized woman. He squeezed her shoulders. "Sit here, try to get your thoughts together. You can’t go in there like this. If he knows you’re upset – and he will know – he’ll take on the blame. Hell, who knows what he’s thinking now. We’ve got to go easy on this." He pulled back and looked at her. After a moment she took a deep breath and nodded.

They both sat and watched her for a moment, then Byers glanced over at Frohike and they rose together. She watched them leave the room and forced herself to stay behind.

He didn’t open his eyes when he heard the door. "Mulder? Are you awake? It’s Byers."

"Byers?" He looked startled to see him. "Frohike didn’t tell me you were . . . "

"Alive? Yeah. I’ve been looking for you – we all have. Why don’t you tell me what happened, where you’ve been." He settled himself beside the bed, giving Mulder his full attention.

Mulder closed his eyes and shook his head. He couldn’t talk about it. It may have happened twelve years ago, but it was fresh with him. It would always be fresh with him. How did people recover from the deaths of loved ones? He would never have been whole again if she had succumbed to the cancer, but to have caused her death – to have shot this woman . . . They had told him he had sat by her side, watched her die. He’d blocked that from his memory completely. That didn’t surprise him, his mind had broken in the aftermath. Why had he woken?

Byers watched the agony cross his face and touched his shoulder. "Mulder, what year is it?"

"What?"

"What year is it Mulder?"

"2010. They told me who was president, but I don’t remember." His voice was bitter and the sarcasm strong.

"Who told you?"

"The doctor, doctors and nurses here. Did they call you?"

"Mulder, look around. You’re not in a hospital now. Do you know this place?"

For the first time Mulder glanced at his surroundings. This looked like a bedroom. It reminded him of his father’s room for some reason. "You had me moved?"

"Not exactly. We rescued you Mulder."

"Rescued? If you really want to help me, you’ll do as I asked Frohike. Byers – John – I want to be with her. Get me something to take, hell leave me alone with a razor. Help me!"

"Can’t do it Buddy. You’ve been gaslighted, led to believe a pile of crap a mile deep."

"I saw the photos, the autopsy reports. They brought it all to me."

Byers’ hand tightened on Mulder’s shoulder. "Mulder, you’ve never been this willing to believe others before. Why now? What did they show you that’s convinced you so thoroughly?"

"The pictures of Scully’s body." He said it quietly, almost calm again.

"You know how easily pictures can be doctored Mulder. What else?" This from Frohike, who had stayed quiet until now watching.

"The mirror." That answer was only a whisper. Mulder’s friends exchanged glances at that. He did look older – traumatically older.

"Someone did this to you Mulder. You’ve been brainwashed. It’s 1999. We don’t know if they dyed your hair, or if the shit they told you caused it to turn white. You need to believe us, not them. Look, what if we got Skinner in to tell you the truth?"

"Skinner died two years ago."

"Damn it, Mulder! Why do you believe them and not us. You saw Scully in this room with you – "

"That wasn’t Scully. Scully would never . . . Scully never touched me like that. She never wanted to and now, wherever she is, she has to hate me for what I finally did to her."

They all turned toward the door as it opened. "Langly?"

"Mulder, look at him. Would Langly still have that hair twelve years in the future?" That from Frohike again.

"Twelve years? What are you guys talking about?" Langly approached the bed. "And if Mulder here is finally awake, why did Scully just take off crying?"

"She left?" Byers was on his feet. "Why didn’t you stop her?"

"Hey, I didn’t know the man was awake. I thought she just needed some time. Mulder, she’s been frantic about you for weeks."

Mulder was staring at him, for the first time beginning to have a glimmer of hope that . . . that maybe his life wasn’t over. "Langly, what year is it?"

"Huh?" He looked back over at Mulder, "1999. Why? How long did you think we’d been looking?"

Mulder was trembling now. "Is it true?" He turned to look at Byers. "Scully is alive? Don’t lie to me Byers! God, I have to know."

*****

Byers threw on some clothes and took off after Scully. She was on foot; surely she couldn’t have gotten far. He was wrong. It took him over an hour to locate her. She’d made it to the beach, and was sitting alone in a rocky alcove. She wasn’t easily spotted from any angle and he was almost past her before he caught a glimpse.

"Dana! Are you okay?" The evidence of tears was still on her face, though no fresh ones appeared to be falling. He sat beside her, catching his breath.

"Is he okay?" Her voice sounded dead, hopeless.

"Actually your timing stinks Dana. I think he’s beginning to believe."

"Why?"

"Langly. Even our man Mulder realized those blond locks couldn’t be around in twelve years."

"I need to get back!"

"Yes, but the guys are with him. Don’t worry." He rose and pulled her to her feet.

"I shouldn’t have left." She brushed the sand from her rear and turned toward the house.

"Slow down Dana. Get your act together. No one’s going to let anything happen to Mulder. Do you want him to see you like this?" She shook her head, finger combing her hair out of her face. "It’s gonna take him awhile to come back. Physically you know he’s a wreck. I’m afraid mentally, he’s worse. Whoever had him pulled a real number on his mind. He was sure he’d killed you. We’re going to have to take this slow."

Scully nodded, moving purposely toward the house.

*****

Frohike stuck his head out when he heard the front door open. "You need to get her in here. He’s freaking."

She moved past the men and on into the room. His eyes were filled with fear and she was at his side. He clasped her hand in a death grip and she barely managed to hide the wince.

"Mulder, I’m here. It’s okay, I’m right here."

"You’re alive?" It was a whisper. She nodded and sat on the bed beside him. She heard, but ignored the sound of their friends leaving the room. She couldn’t turn away from him. With his free hand he was caressing her face, following the tracks of the tears she had not quite obliterated. "They told me you were dead, that I . . . "

"No, Mulder. I’m very much alive. I’ve been searching for you for weeks. Tell me what you remember."

He took a deep breath and slightly loosened his grip on her hand. "I don’t know. I woke up in a hospital. They told me it was a long-term care facility. I couldn’t remember being injured, a case, nothing. I was weak, I couldn’t even sit up and I kept asking for you. They finally sedated me and then told me that I had been moved to that place because I had been, I guess in a coma or catatonic, since my last suicide attempt."

Now her hand gripped his even tighter.

"Scully, I don’t remember it."

"Because it didn’t happen Mulder. You never attempted suicide; there was no reason. The things they told you never happened."

"I saw the newspaper reports in my file. They were yellow with age. And the autopsy report . . . "

"Faked Mulder. I’m right here."

"Is Skinner alive too?"

"Yes. Mulder, you’ve been missing about six weeks."

"That’s what Frohike and Langly said. How could I have aged this much in that amount of time?"

She gave him a sad smile then and ran her hand over his salt and pepper hair. "This might be a dye job, Mulder. Let it grow a little." The smile disappeared, "or it could have turned white from their lies. I can get you some Grecian Formula or something and you’ll look like a kid again. You can see for yourself it hasn’t thinned." She tugged lightly and he managed a weak smile of his own. "You’re tired Mulder. You should rest now. We can talk later. Did the guys feed you?"

"Yeah. Will you be here?"

"Of course."

He looked around the room again. "Is this my father’s house?"

"Yes. We needed a place we could – "

"Hey, no problem. I just thought I recognized it. And you’ll be here?"

"I’m not going anywhere Mulder. Close your eyes." She put her hand on his forehead and closed them herself, then not releasing his hand, settled in the chair beside the bed.

He’d been asleep a few minutes when Langly stuck his head in the door. "Hungry?" He mouthed to her so as not to disturb the sleeping man. She nodded and he entered with a tray.

"How’s he doing?"

"Better." They both spoke in low tones. "He’s got a lot to process."

Langly nodded. "You need to take a break soon yourself. You should sleep while he is."

She couldn’t disagree with that. "Let me make sure he’s sound asleep, then I’ll come out." Langly left and she finished her dinner. Since he appeared to be resting comfortably, she took her dishes back to the kitchen.

"How are you doing, Dana?"

"Tired. My mind’s racing, but he seems to be sleeping peacefully. I’m think of soaking in a hot tub."

Frohike’s eyes gleamed but Byers shot him a look that shut him up. "We’ll keep on eye on him. Take as long as you want." She smiled at all three of them and headed for the bath. She soaked until she was drowsy then went to check on Mulder.

"He’s doing fine, hasn’t even stirred. Go on to bed." Byers watched her for a moment.

She took a deep breath, "You guys are the best."

"Yeah, we are." He grinned, "Now go rest." She squeezed his shoulder and headed for her room.

*****

"Scully! Scully! Sculllllly!!"

She burst into the room before Byers made it to his feet. She hadn’t bothered with her robe.

"Mulder, I’m right here. Calm down."

He had her by the shoulders. "It wasn’t a dream?"

"No Mulder. I’m here. I’m going to be here. Byers, go on to bed. I’ll stay."

"Dana . . . "

"It’s okay, go on." She heard Byers leave and explain the disturbance to the others. "I was in the next room Mulder. I’m sorry."

His trembling was beginning to subside. "I was . . . I thought . . . "

"Go back to sleep Mulder. I’ll be right here."

"Here, please." He touched the mattress next to him.

"Mulder, it’s a hospital bed. There’s no room."

"I’ll make room. I mean . . . Scully, let me hold you tonight. I won’t take advantage, I just need to know you’re real, that you’re really here."

"I trust you Mulder." He relaxed slightly and moved over, rolling onto his side. She wasn’t sure this was the right thing, but if he felt safer with her close to him – fine.