Deeply In Touch (PG-13)

She groaned as the phone rang. The third ring decided her and she reached for the receiver. She didn't bother with a greeting. "Mulder do you know what time it is?"

"Oh, uh sorry Scully. I just wanted you to know that I won't be able to meet you tomorrow after all. I'm heading up to the Vineyard."

"Mulder? Is your mother all right?" Now she was awake and he could hear the concern in her voice.

"She's fine, Scully. She's not even in town. One of her friends talked her into going down to Florida for a couple of weeks."

"Well then . . . Mulder . . . "

"I just wanted you to know I would be out of town, and - " she could hear the amusement in his voice, "that I hadn't ditched you. Go back to sleep, Scully. I'll talk to you Monday."

"Are you sure everything's okay, Mulder?" She glanced over at the clock, nearly 4:30 in the morning. Why the hell would he be going to the Vineyard now?

"Sorry I woke you, Scully. Go back to your beauty sleep." And he was gone. Damn him! He was without a doubt the most infuriating man she had ever known. She punched her pillow and lay back down, finally falling back to sleep.

It was few minutes after six when she woke with a gasp, heart pounding and hands shaking. She fell back against her pillow trying to calm herself. That must have been one hell of a dream. She couldn't remember anything; it was gone completely. Her heart was beginning to slow down, but sleep was over. She threw off the covers and sat on the side of the bed.

After a moment she rose and headed for the bathroom. Splashing water on her face didn't help. Was it the abduction dream? Was that what had shaken her so? Was she on the verge of remembering something new? No, as much as Mulder wanted her to know what had happened to her, she didn't. If not remembering caused this much trauma, what would remembering feel like?

She reached for the phone, automatically thinking of sharing this with Mulder. No, that wouldn't be a good idea, and besides hadn't he called in the middle of the night to let her know he was leaving town?

Besides, she never told him when she had that dream. What was she thinking? Of course, somehow he always seemed to know anyway. It was so strange with Mulder, he always acted as though he was totally unaware of her feelings, her thoughts, but when she actually faced things - he knew. That infuriated her about him too. If he was going to act insensitive and oblivious, he ought to be insensitive and oblivious. He wasn't though. When she needed him, really needed him, not only was he there, but he rarely needed any explanation. It wasn't right that he knew her that well.

Could the same be said of her? Did she know him as well as he appeared to know her? Well, he could still surprise her but yes, she did know him - better than she knew anyone else. It was like two halves of a whole.

She was decidedly uneasy now. Why was she thinking like this about him? Why had thoughts of Mulder made her feel worse instead of better? She tried to shake it off again, but realized the phone was in her hand again.

Well, it wouldn't be a terrible thing to call him and wake him up for a change. He should be at the Vineyard by now. She dialed his cell phone. Not in service? Well, maybe he'd turned it off to save the battery when he got to his mother's house. She opened the drawer in her desk and withdrew her address book, turning to the M's to get his mother's phone number.

Her machine picked up after four rings. That made sense, there was probably no phone in the bedroom he used. He wouldn't have heard it ring. She hung up and moved toward her kitchen. She opened the refrigerator and reached for the juice, then stopped. Maybe she should try calling one more time.

Without bothering with the juice she turned to her phone again. The machine picked up a second time and she left a short message. At least he could call her when he did wake.

So what the hell was wrong with her? Why couldn't she get her act together? Forgetting the juice completely now she turned back to her bedroom and quickly dressed.

Before she admitted to herself what her intentions were, she had grabbed her keys and was headed toward her car. She'd had a bad dream and now she was headed toward the Vineyard to talk about it? She was losing her mind. At that point she nearly turned back, but something kept her moving. It was just a dream, wasn't it?

She was headed north before the word premonition came to her. The argument the word `premonition' started in her mind was embarrassing, but she still didn't turn back. Mulder must be a bigger influence on her than even she wanted to admit.

She found herself checking out the cars she passed, even slowing down to look at cars parked or abandoned on the side of the road. What was wrong with her? She was being stupid and he'd have a good laugh at her expense when he found out how she was behaving. But even knowing that she couldn't stop.

She turned off the highway at the exit he always used. She'd been here with him several times and was confident of her route. She should be at his mother's house in less than an hour.

She'd been driving less than twenty minutes when she braked suddenly. Later she realized how lucky she was that there was no one behind her, because she didn't check. What now? She needed to get to the Vineyard. Needed to? That was the first time she'd used that verb. Her pulse was racing and she was having trouble bringing her breathing under control.

She needed to get out of the road. No way she should be driving right now. Once the car was safely off the highway she dropped her face into her shaking hands. Was she losing her mind? There was nothing here. If she was having a panic attack it should be ending. She'd never had one before and she had certainly been in situations where they would be understandable.

Whatever it was she needed to get back her composure. But she found her hand on the door of the car, opening it. She was beginning to relax, hell go with the flow, Dana, you're going to anyway.

She emerged from the car, still shaky. She was holding onto the door still trying to analyze her actions when she heard another car pull up behind her and stop. "You all right ma'am?" She looked over and realized a patrolman was approaching her. "Ma'am?"

"I'm okay, I just needed to pull over for a minute."

He moved a little closer. "Do you need to sit down? You look kind of pale."

"Do I? I . . . have you seen any cars around here, stalled or anything? Has there been an accident?" She hadn't known she was going to ask that, but once the words were out of her mouth she knew how right they were. It was as though she knew something had happened to him and once the words were said, she had to face it.

"No ma'am. I've been by here at least three times since my shift started. Why?"

"Oh." She pulled out her ID.

"The Bureau? Is something supposed to have happened around here?"

"No. I just . . . " She was walking away from him now over to the edge of the road. "Do you, do you see anything down . . . " And she was off the road, slipping down the embankment beside the road being pulled in that direction by something, some force.

"Agent! Wait!" The trooper was following her now. "There's nothing there! Hold on!" He skidded to a stop beside her.

"Something's here. Something's wrong."

"You a psychic or something?" He tried to grin, not quite sure whether she was losing her mind or not.

"Or something. Help me!" She was in the bushes now, pulling them apart, searching.

"What are we looking for?" He was helping now, but he had no idea why. He looked up in time to see her pitch forward.

"Agent!"

She was on her knees, "Mulder! Get an ambulance, now!" She glanced up and away again. He saw the man she was kneeling over now. He looked dead. The trooper scrambled back up the bank and yanked the radio from his patrol car.

He was back immediately. "They're on the way. Is he . . .?"

"He needs help." Her voice sounded calm, not at all the way she felt.

"How did you know? How did you see him? There's no car, nothing."

How did she know? Had they always had this? Well, he had - there was no other explanation of how he had found and rescued her in Antarctica, in what he described as an enormous structure. It was as though he'd been led to her, there was no other . . . There were too many examples to count. He knew where she was and when she needed him. But did she have the same ability? She'd never though she did, she'd never thought about this at all. It was too . . . Spooky. Finding him wasn't all that easy for her, but she did know when he needed her. Maybe she'd been able to find him too, at least when she wasn't resisting. Thank god she hadn't allowed herself to completely resist this time.

She didn't bother to answer, murmuring to Mulder, examining him to the best of her abilities. She had her coat off, covering him. He was already in deep shock, she didn't want it to worsen. He'd lost a lot of blood and was probably bleeding internally. Where was that damn ambulance? "Stay with me, Mulder. I got here as quick as I could, now you've got to hold on. Don't you dare leave me alone. You said you weren't going to ditch me, that's why you called. I'm holding you to that."

"Agent Scully! I hear them." She didn't acknowledge him but he headed up the bank to wave them down.

The EMTs moved her aside and she heard one of them whistle. She wanted to get closer but the patrolman had hold of her, keeping her out of the way. They were working fast and were in communication with someone.

The second EMT turned to her, "We've requested a chopper. He's in bad shape, if we don't air lift him . . . " He didn't finish the thought, he didn't need to. For an instant Scully was grateful for the steadying hand of the patrolman.

"Ma'am, do either of you know who this man is? All of his ID is gone."

"He's my partner, Fox Mulder. He's an FBI agent."

"Do you know his blood type? Any medical information?"

"Anything you need. I'm a," She had to swallow, "I'm a medical doctor." She gave them the information they needed and realized she was shaking now. She'd found him, he'd called to her and she'd come; she was willing to admit that now, she'd face it later, if there was a later, but was she in time? What if she hadn't come soon enough? What if her resistance to what was happening to her had stalled her enough? No, Mulder wouldn't give up. He believed in her, even when she didn't believe in herself.

"The chopper's here. You better make sure traffic is stopped and flag them on down." Scully supported herself against a tree as they moved in, strapping him to a carrier and finally bringing him up to the road.

"I'm going with you." She had her ID out and though she hadn't actually drawn her gun the chopper team seemed to realize that would be her next step if she were refused.

"You'll have to stay out of the way."

"Don't worry. I'm not going to do anything to jeopardize his care. Let's go!" She moved to the far end of the available space and made herself as unobtrusive as possible.

She jerked as he coded and the team leapt to their tasks. "Mulder!" But she screamed silently so as not to disturb them. She had to keep it together; it was one of the reasons he'd called her. She could anticipate their needs and began preparing syringes and charged the defibrillator. He needed her.

"What are you - "

"20 ccs of eppy. Hurry!" After a quick glance at her the nurse took the syringe.

"Charge the - "

"300 amps. It's ready." They didn't bother to question her this time.

"Clear." She couldn't control the jerk from her own body as his spasmed. She closed her eyes for an instant, afraid to breathe.

"Okay, sinus rhythm. We need to get more fluids in him. Janet?"

"I'm on it." After the additional IV was in she turned to Scully. "You okay?" Scully managed to nod, not trusting her voice. "Try to relax, we'll be there shortly." She didn't look away from him, hoping it would be soon enough.

*****

She was dozing lightly beside his bed when he stirred. She was on her feet immediately, taking his hand in her own. "Mulder? Can you hear me?"

"Scu . . .?"

"Yeah, it's me. Had to wake me up again didn't you?"