Colorblind By Humbuggie © 2003 Disclaimers and all that in part 1 Part three I wake up several hours later in a semi-private room. There’s a strange silence one can only find in hospital rooms, accompanied by the constant sound of beeping monitors. I feel the standard equipment all over me: an IV running fluids in my veins; a heart monitor attached to my chest betraying I that I’m waking up. My head is wrapped in bandages. The side of my skull hurts like a bitch. The room is dark. The slightest bit of light would hurt my eyes. Someone moves inside the room. I look up to find Skinner there. He seems alert and I realize it is morning, despite the closed curtains. He looks serious and concerned. I am grateful he’s there, even though I had wanted it to be Scully, but he takes over her part as caretaker and he does a good job. He has been there before, and I know that he’ll always be there in future. ‘Good to have you back,’ he says, moving into my line of sight, so that I don’t have to stir too much to see him. ‘You had us worried for a while.’ I groan slighty, touching my head as the nauseating feeling returns. ‘What happened?’ ‘You have a serious concussion. The pavement cracked on that thick skull of yours. Why didn’t you say anything?’ I shrug. ‘I’m stubborn.’ ‘So I’ve gathered. You were very lucky, do you know that? Do you remember spending almost the entire night in the ICU, on oxygen?’ ‘No.’ ‘I thought so. You don’t remember anything, do you?’ ‘I remember,.. Scully.’ I say, as I lean deeper into the thick pillows that rest at my back. Skinner does not move backwards. He doesn’t avoid my glance either. I feel relief surge through me as I realize she’s still alive. Otherwise he would have turned away from me and told me calmly, serenely that she’s gone. But he is still very serious when he speaks. ‘She’s still in the ICU. She is doing as well as can be expected. She’s had surgery last night. They removed the bullet from her chest. She’s not out of the woods yet.’ ‘Is she awake?’ ‘No. They are keeping her sedated. Her body needs to recover from trauma. It’s been touch and go for a while. The bullet cracked a rib that protruded into her lung, so there were complications. They still fear for her.’ ‘I want to see her.’ ‘You can’t, or not right now at least. Mulder, you should stay calm. You have a severe concussion. You were unconscious for twelve hours. They are as worried about you as much as they are about her. You could cause yourself serious damage if you ignore doctor’s orders. Focus on yourself now. She’s in good hands.’ ‘I can’t just relax,’ I groan, realizing that I’m still as angry as before. ‘You have to. You’re not out of the woods yet either, do you know that? The fact that you let your injury linger on for so long, did not help matters. You should have been resting for hours. You passed out, Mulder. Not exactly a sign of good health, is it? I’m ordering you to rest. I have every available law enforcement agent looking for Delaney, with Terry Davis’s team backing me up. It’s not your concern anymore.’ I stir angrily. ‘Yes, it is,’ I say flushed. ‘It will always be my concern. I want that kid, sir. What he’s done to Scully is unforgivable.’ ‘Mulder, yesterday you told me that this boy, Thomas, needs understanding. That he had no psychic abilities at all, but that he needs care and love from a family he no longer has. You said this in your own words, and I offered you my advice on how to proceed. No one could have foreseen what would happen. The fact that Thomas freaked out proves, he’s not as innocent as you would have liked to believe. The fact that he shot your partner, is proof enough that he might also have killed his sister; that he was capable of murdering her.’ ‘Which is exactly why I want him in custody, before he hurts anybody else,’ I say coldly. ‘It is my responsibility; my case. I screwed up. I didn’t make the correct profile. If he flips and kills more people, I’m to blame.’ ‘That’s not true and you know it.’ ‘Isn’t it? The file has my name under it, doesn’t it? I signed the reports. I said he was harmless.’ ‘Stop doing this to yourself. We’ll find him. Scully needs you to be here and healthy. She’ll need your support. What if she wakes up and finds you gone? Or worse. What if you fall and hit your head again? Have you ever heard of second-impact syndrome, Mulder? If something happens to you right now, and you hit your head again, you might die from brain swelling. Is that what you want to risk?’ ‘She would understand why I need to do this,’ I say stubbornly, ignoring Skinner’s advice. Yes, I have heard of second-impact syndrome. It happens to young sportsmen who return to the field too soon after suffering from a severe concussion. But that’s not going to happen to me. All I want, is to find that kid and set straight what I’ve done wrong. ‘Would she?’ Skinner asks. ‘Scully would stay by your side whatever else happens.’ ‘No, she wouldn’t. She’d go after the one who did this too,’ I speak firmly. ‘When Henry Lee Lucas shot me, she went after him. She took him down before he could take anyone else down. She did’nt stay by my side and grieve.’ ‘That was different. Lucas had hostages. We were on a deadline.’ ‘And Thomas Delaney has a gun.’ Skinner sighs and I know I cannot persuade him to see things my way, but we both feel that something needs to be done. That at least binds us. And I know that ultimately, he will respect my decision. He knows that he has no other choice. I relax a little bit and try to see things his way. I know he understands why I don’t want to let this one go so easily. The boy shot Scully. If she dies, he becomes a killer. ‘How long do I have to stay?’ I ask somberly, aware of the blasting headache that strikes me every time I move. ‘At least another forty-eight hours. And you will have stay monitored too. They want to make sure you don’t pass out again.’ ‘I’m willing to stay another few hours – a day, maximum,’ I say strongly. ‘If you haven’t found him by them, I’m gone.’ ‘If you do that, I will go after you,’ Skinner speaks harshly. Do you want to die, Mulder?’ I look up at him and suddenly the glare in his eyes changes. He recognizes the strange vow that I’ve made deep within me. If Scully dies, I die too. And now he realizes that I’m thinking in that direction. ‘Mulder.’ He moves even closer and I can see the concern within him intensify. ‘Don’t think that way. She’s not going to die. You’ve both been through so much in the past. I cannot imagine that she would go like this. It would not be right.’ I don’t answer. How can I tell him how I felt, when I saw life trickle away from her? I should have been able to save her; to help her. But I did nothing. I watched her sink deeper into the abyss. All I did was push my torn-up sweater on her chest in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. I felt so damned useless. ‘Stay here and rest, Mulder. Please.’ Skinner speaks gently and I know he’s right, but I can’t admit to it. I cannot tell him that I want his friendship and his awkward comfort. He’s the only one who can get through me. But I cannot allow that. I have to find Thomas and set the record straight. I turn my head away, sinking deeper into the pillows as I close my eyes. Skinner stands there for a few moments and then he walks out. Despite myself, I fall asleep. Part four The door opens and closes and wakes me. I’m confused at first as to where I am, and keep my eyes closed. I’m disoriented. After a few seconds, I remember where I am and why I am here. I believe that my visitor is Skinner again and I am not willing to argue with him again. I don’t know what time it is, but it feels like almost an entire day has passed again, and that I’ve already lost too much time to track down the boy. I want to look into those shadows. I want to know the truth. It is Skinner. I can imagine how he’s looking at me. I can almost envisage his worried look. If it were up to him, he would probably tie me down with ropes and force me to stay here. He knows that he can’t command me. I’ve made my decision to go after Thomas Delaney and I will. After a while, Skinner leaves again. He’s been sitting in a chair for some minutes. Perhaps I’ve fallen asleep again, for I don’t remember him going. I just hear the door click as it closes. I watch until the ceiling stops moving and look outside. It’s bright out. Strange. I reach forward and grasp my watch that lies on the tablet next to me. It’s the 24th. I’ve lost another day! My god, I slept throughout an entire day and night. Or perhaps they forced me to. Maybe that’s why my head feels so heavy now: they sedated me. Furious, I move up and away from the pillows. Within a second I regret having done just that. A splitting headache rushes through me. I’m dizzy. I feel nauseated. An instant urge to puke out my guts engulfs me. Oh god, I think. How am I going to find the kid, when I can’t even sit up straight? I need everything in me to stay on my feet. I can’t imagine going out on the streets just like that and tracking the kid down. But I have to. Too much time has already gone by. And Scully? She has not woken up. Otherwise Skinner would have told me something. To hell with Skinner. My anger helps me up. Finally, after a few attempts, I’m sitting up straight without feeling so sick. I move, making a mental way through the pain. I know that I can make it: all I have to do is urge my legs to start moving. I shove the blankets off me and place both feet on the ground. The wires are still stuck to my chest; I pull them off with a hasty gesture. The IV follows, leaving trickles of blood on the sheets. They remind me so much of Scully. The first thing I have to do now is to find her, and tell her, I will get our revenge. I stumble slowly towards the closet and pull out my clothes. I have to kneel to get to my socks and shoes on, that gesture alone almost sends me back into oblivion. I grasp the closet door and wait for a few seconds, taking deep breaths. Damn, this is bad. If Scully were here, she’d have me for disobeying doctor’s orders. But she’s not here. She’s dying. I feel tears spring into my eyes. I am horrified that my body would not listen to my mind in a time like this. But should it, when I am forcing it to do something against its own better judgement? Shouldn’t I be sitting at Scully’s side, begging for her to open her eyes, instead of going after her murderer? Shouldn’t I be grieving for her? No. The second I allow myself to grieve, I will go against my own nature. I have done it once: when Scully was returned. I let go of the opportunity to find her killers to be with her, but not now. I have never felt such rage and anger against anyone, not even the Cancerman. This should not have happened. It was so unnecessary. I leave the room slowly. I’m terribly tired. It’s difficult to cross the corridors when the lights are so harsh in your eyes. In comparison to the darkened room, everything seems too bright and too clear. A nurse passes me by and looks at me strangely. I keep on moving and find my way towards the ICU easily. As I walk in, another nurse looks at me. My temple is still wrapped with bandages, I realize, I must look like shit. ‘Are you alright, sir?’ she asks. ‘Dana Scully?’ I whisper hoarsely, and my throat aches from speaking. ‘Are you related to her?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Follow me.’ She walks me to a small cubicle in the back of the ICU, where my partner lies next to two other occupied beds. Instantly, I recognize all the equipment that is keeping her alive, but under complete sedation. I remember Skinner telling me that they want to allow her to rest peacefully, so that her body could recover from trauma. But if this happened two days ago, shouldn’t she be alert by now? Every time I see her in this sort of condition, I’m shocked by the paleness of her skin. Her body is not equipped to undergo this trauma. Her heart needs to recuperate; the rest of her has to recover. I hope that she sleeps well, that she rests up. But my greatest fear is that she will not open her eyes ever again, and that she will give into the strength, the ultimate darkness has upon us. I know that it’s tempting. I too have felt it when I was near-death. It is easier to give in than to stay amongst the living. ‘Sir?’ The nurse watches me carefully as I lean on Scully’s bed. I look at my partner intently. I urge her to fight the respiratory equipment and wake up for me. In my thoughts, I’m talking with her, and I hope that she understands what I want her to do. Of course it does not work that way: she would never hear me, or enter my mind to read my thoughts. ‘Sir, I’ll get you a chair.’ Finally I look up, but I cannot speak. I’m so tired. ‘No,’ I just say. ‘I’m fine.’ And then I’m on the ground besides Scully’s bed. I can’t control my body’s movements. I don’t know what to do. I just slide. That’s all I can do. Part five ‘You pissed off the medical staff,’ Skinner says calmly as he hands me a glass of water. I’m back in my room, and back in the bed with the equipment beeping around me. I’ve been here for a couple of hours. I don’t remember much of being returned here. I probably gave them quite a scare, and some extra work. I had expected to be in the ICU, sharing Scully’s cubicle when I regained consciousness, but I’m not. I do feel that I’m in bad shape though. I would be fooling myself if I said it wasn’t so. ‘I don’t care,’ I groan tired. ‘I’m getting out of here soon.’ ‘You can’t,’ Skinner sighs tiredly. ‘You risk your life the moment you get out of here in this condition.’ ‘Is that why you had them drug me?’ He looks at me intently. ‘I’m sorry Mulder, but your actions worried me. I spoke with your doctor, and he agreed that keeping you under for a while, would be best for your state of mind and health.’ ‘I thought it was unhealthy to sedate concussion-patients?’ ‘I’d rather have you unhealthy than dead.’ ‘Don’t exaggerate, sir.’ Skinner pales and readjusts his glasses. ‘You really don’t get it, do you Mulder?’ he says coldly. ‘The moment you walk out of this room, you could be endangering your life. Do you know what would have happened if you had bumped that skull of yours again? You fell at Scully’s bedside. You almost hit the ground. You could have died right there. Are you really going to kill yourself trying to find her attacker?’ ‘Yes,’ I groan, forcing myself up into the pillows. ‘It’s obvious that you can’t. Otherwise you would have found him by now.’ ‘We have everyone on it, Mulder. You know how it works: time and patience. Why can’t you leave it up to us?’ I stare at him. ‘No.’ ‘Fine then,’ Skinner responds angrily. ‘Go ahead. Go kill yourself. If that’s what it takes to make you feel happy, go do it! I can’t stop you. No one can. Only she can and you barely care for her.’ I stare at him shocked. ‘How can you say that?’ I respond, hurt. ‘It’s true, isn’t it? You’re not there, by her side. You only care about your quest: finding that kid. You’ve hardly shown any emotion about her since you first woke up. What is happening to you, Mulder? I don’t know you like this. You haven’t been yourself.’ I close my eyes tired. ‘I don’t want –‘ ‘- to talk about it? Sure you don’t. Why would you? It’s only Scully.’ ‘Shut up,’ I hear myself whisper. ‘No, I won’t. I’m your friend, Mulder, at least I hoped to be. I think I have proven myself for quite some time, haven’t I? I know you’re hurting. But this is not the answer. Scully will pull through. She has always done so before. The both of you are stronger than this.’ I open my eyes again and stare at him. ‘No, she’s not.’ ‘Yes, she is. But she needs you,’ my boss says friendly. ‘More than anything in this world, she needs you. You can’t just walk out on her and go after her killer, when she is depending on you. Don’t you see that?’ ‘Why would she need me?’ I ask numbly, as bitter tears enter my eyes. ‘I wasn’t of much good to her before, was I? If her life depended on me, she would have died.’ Skinner stares at me in shock. ‘Why do you say that, Mulder? How can you be blamed for this?’ ‘I took her there, didn’t I?’ I burst out. ‘I didn’t profile that kid well enough. I trusted him. And when she was shot, I did nothing to save her. I couldn’t because I panicked.’ ‘ You saved her!’ Skinner objected. ‘Without you, she would have bled to death.’ ‘Without me, she would not have been shot.’ Skinner, the only man in the world who probably had something to say that I would listen to, looks at me strongly. ‘Mulder, you are not to blame. It’s not your fault. Please stop this. Stop doing this to yourself.’ ‘I will put a stop to it,’ I say as I push the blankets off my legs slowly, dizzy by every movement I make. ‘I’m going to find Tommy and I’ll find the truth.’ Skinner walks forward and grabs me by the arm. ‘No.’ ‘Yes,’ I say, tiredly. ‘I can do this with, or without you, sir. I’d rather do it with you, but if you’re going to stop me now, I swear I’ll quit the Bureau. I’ll do it on my own strength.’ Skinner stares at me for a moment, angry at my persistence. Then he grabs the clothes that are on the chair underneath the window, throws them on the bed and groans, ‘I suspect that you don’t need help getting dressed?’ For the first time I smile. ‘Nope.’ It takes forever to get dressed, but I don’t ask for Skinner’s help. He’s outside the room arguing with my doctor. Neither man is obviously pleased with my decision to discharge myself. As the door opens again, the ER-doctor I recognize and Skinner, return. A nurse is with them too. ‘This is against my better judgment,’ he says. ‘But your boss has made it clear that you won’t be persuaded otherwise. If you get hurt again, it might cost you your life.’ ‘I won’t get hurt,’ I say. ‘Yeah, right.’ The doctor sniffs loudly and leaves again. Skinner hands me my coat and looks as displeased as the doctor; but I feel a rush to the head as I realize that I have gotten my way. ‘Are you ready to go?’ he asks. ‘Yeah.’ ‘You’re under my care now,’ Skinner speaks angrily. ‘Don’t you dare get me into trouble. I swear I’ll kill you myself.’ ‘I promise,’ I say weakly, grateful for Skinner’s help. Even though I would not admit to it, I need him as much as I need Scully. He’s the only beacon of strength I can rely on right now. I am not stupid, you know. I know that I am getting myself into serious trouble. I know that every step I take, might be a dangerous one. But I need to do this. The shadows trouble me: I want to know what they meant. I want to know why we were ignorant to the danger. And above all, I want to know if our theory that the teenager was harmless was wrong. Only then, will I get the peace of mind I so badly need. We go back to the ICU, where Scully is still lying in the same position. It’s been two days and she’s not well. Her paleness has become even worse. She could have been dead for as far as I know. The doctor enters the unit and watches me intently, as I grasp her hand. ‘Is she going to be alright?’ I ask hoarsely. ‘We believe so. She’s responding well to treatment. I’ve decided to allow her to wake up naturally now.’ ‘Will she –‘ ‘- recover fully? Yes.’ I lean forward and look at her closed eyes. She doesn’t know I’m here and I’m pretty certain that she would not respond to my voice. She needs to wake up on her own strength now. I know that she will be in a lot of pain. She is the only one to whom I whisper, ‘Hey, it’s me. I have to go now for a while, but I’ll be back before you know it. Hang on.’ I wish she would open her eyes and stop me. But nothing happens. I caress her hair and kiss her gently. When I look up, Skinner’s there. He understands and nods. I rub my eyes and follow him outside. We stride through the corridors of the hospital in silence, walking towards the elevators. Skinner is not exactly in the mood to talk to me. He paces angrily besides me, allowing this against better judgment. The sympathy he feels for me has changed into certain anger at the situation. I keep on seeing Scully lying on that concrete floor. What have I missed? I feel nausea creep up. Something is wrong with me. I can tell as we walk further. I am using up too much of my strength already. I have to think of Scully. For her, I would do anything. A restroom-sign. Without warning Skinner, I push the door and rush in. I open a cubicle, pull up the lid and throw up inside the bowl, after pushing the door shut behind me. Its just bile leaving my system. I haven’t eaten for two days. Something Skinner forgot, I think. ‘Mulder?’ Skinner walks in the restrooms. I don’t answer him, leaning forward until everything is out of me and the vomiting stops. After that, I’m too tired to move. ‘Mulder, come out of there,’ Skinner says, knocking on the cubicle door. I finally stir, move and slowly get up. My back aches, but that’s nothing in comparison to what my head is doing to me. I have difficulty keeping my thoughts together. Finally, I flush the toilet and walk out. Skinner stares at me worriedly. ‘You look even worse than before.’ ‘I gathered as much,’ I groan as I throw icy cold water in my face, and hope for something to take away that flustering feeling, that reminds me of the fever that’s creeping up. ‘Mulder –‘ ‘Don’t say it, sir.’ I wipe my face. ‘Let’s go.’ I stagger but I’m up. Skinner can do nothing but follow me. As we drive to the FBI’s Headquarters, I sleep. Something in me fears that I might not wake up the moment I close my eyes, but I cannot help it. My body needs the rest. Skinner wakes me as we arrive. I follow him inside; into Terence Davis’ office whose team has ran the investigation so far. Daniel Verlaine is there too, standing in Davis’ office. My former boss, Terence Davis, is serious and very sympathetic. He looks at me, shakes my hand and asks me if I am all right. I am pretty certain that both Daniel, and Skinner have informed him on every detail. ‘Good to see you,’ Davis says. ‘It surprises me that you’re still on your feet, to be honest, but of course we’re not used to anything different from you, are we?’ I smile wearily. ‘I already have Skinner on my back nagging about my health. Don’t you start too, Terry.’ Terence smiles and the tension in the room disappears. Years ago he was my Assistant-Director. That was before I left for the X-Files. Afterwards he had come back and asked me if I’d be willing to help him out on occasion. I had agreed. Since then the friendship between us had grown again. There was a mutual respect that I cared for deeply. But even if he had not helped me, I would not be stopped. ‘Of course you have my support,’ he says. ‘I’m sure you don’t mind that Daniel is running the show on this one.’ I turn to Verlaine. ‘Thank you for helping me before.’ ‘You’re welcome,’ he says, shaking my hand with a firm grip. ‘I’m glad to see you’re on your feet.’ ‘That’s just an illusion,’ Skinner speaks grimly behind me. ‘The sooner he returns to hospital, the better. So let’s get to work and get this over with.’ ‘So tell me,’ I say as I rub my eyelids. ‘What has your luck been like, so far?’ ‘It seems that your boy has vanished off the face of the earth,’ Terence explains. ‘After the shootout, he didn’t show up at his home. His stepfather doesn’t know where he is and refuses to cooperate.’ ‘And the mother?’ ‘Still in the psychiatric ward; she’s of no use.’ ‘The gun?’ ‘His father says he bought a gun about a month ago and hid it in his bedroom closet. He claims his son must have taken it without his permission.’ ‘His daughter committed suicide, yet he kept another gun in the house?’ I ask in disbelief. ‘That’s pushing it a bit, isn’t it? Besides, didn’t he say in the first place that Thomas killed his stepsister?’ ‘Yes, he did,’ Skinner confirms. ‘Odd behavior for a concerned stepfather.’ ‘So, where do you think your killer is?’ Daniel asks me. ‘You must have theories.’ I look up surprised. ‘So now we have labeled him a murderer, then?’ ‘After what happened to the two of you?’ Terence replies, ‘Yes, of course.’ I shook my head slightly. ‘I still don’t believe it.’ I return to the shadows, seeing them. They were moving, as if something was hiding from us. But the boy was in front of us, running away. So how could he have shot Scully? ‘Mulder, you did see him shoot Scully, didn’t you?’ Terence leans forward and looks at me questioningly. ‘I don’t know,’ I say slowly, realizing that I truly didn’t see him pull that trigger. ‘Then what did you see?’ Skinner asks surprised. I close my eyes and try to remember, but it’s all so blurry. I still cannot recall it completely. One minute we were running, and the next I was on the ground, hitting my head hard. And Scully was on top of me. She had shoved me out of the bullet’s trajectory. She was swifter than I was. She had seen it sooner, but how could she, when we were running beside each other? Remember, I urge myself. Just remember what you saw. Remember it. But suddenly it all fades away. All the images become one vague visage that I cannot control. They get mixed together in twilight of twirling flashes, including the colors red and green that I can only see in my dreams. I don’t know what happens. Everything that’s reality, escapes my control, and all I have left is a sense of loss. To be concluded … Sandra Vets Freelance Copywriter and author www.tales4rent.com [Non-text portions of this message have been removed] To post, mail to xfc-ATXC@yahoogroups.com To subscribe, mail xfc-ATXC-subscribe@yahoogroups.com To unsubscribe, mail xfc-ATXC-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to http://docs.yahoo.com/info/terms/