Exit Wounds (2/4) by IfMulderCouldSeeMeNow Email: Rating: PG-13 Summary: Mulder rushes to the hospital to aid a sickly Scully, unaware of what he'll find when he gets there. Will they be able to face this together? Chapter Two Falling Through The Doors of The Emergency Room The shrill sound of the phone broke him from his reverie. "Is this a Mr. Mulder?" The voice of a young woman quickly questioned. "The one and only," he replied smugly, quite happy with his wit. "Um, could you please come to the hospital," the young woman called and Mulder felt his blood run cold. " Dr. Scully's been admitted." "I'm on my way now." He got out of his trembling lips before dropping the phone in its holder and rushing out the door. He knew he shouldn't have pressured her earlier this morning. She was furious when she left. He should have told her before that he was looking for their son. Shouldn't have yelled; blamed her. Skidding to a stop in front of the nurse's desk, Mulder looked around briefly before asking in a hurried voice "Dr. Dana Scully. Where is she?" When the nurses were silently gaping at him, he furrowed his brows and lowered his voice, speaking gently to them with a nervous smile: "I'm her husband, Mulder, could you please tell me where Dr. Scully is, I'm very worried about her?" "308" The blonde nurse answered, flushed. Apparently Scully was right, sometimes you did attract more bees with honey. He seemed to be a little out of practice interacting with people, but at least he still had it. "Please. Really, I'm fine." He heard her voice from outside the door. "My house isn't far from here; I'll make it back fine." He cringed at the thought of her driving over 1-1/2 hours back, 2-1/2 in this traffic, home after being admitted to the hospital. What if he was still a fugitive? Who would come for her? Would she have even told him? He thought of all the times he wasn't there, of all the times she had to do everything on her own and he hated himself. He wouldn't let her down again. "I've already signed the release papers, Amanda. I'm fine." The shake in her voice betrayed her stoic nature. Stepping silently into the room he noticed her eyes snapped to him, expanding to their limits. "Mulder" she gasped, nearly dropping her coat and workbag, voice filled with surprise, as if she was shocked that he would come to her aid. "Sorry Dr. Scully," Amanda chimed in, wringing her hands together so tightly Mulder wondered if water would fall from them. Something serious had to be wrong for this woman to be so nervous. She looked young, and Mulder wondered if the title of Ice Queen' had followed Scully to the hospital as well. "After you stabilized you kept mumbling Mulder' and William.' When I checked your phone, Mulder was the only saved number." "You did the right thing to call me." Mulder's deep voice smoothly spoke as he thanked the girl. Amanda hurridly slid out of the room with a nod, closing the door behind her. As soon as it closed, Mulder spoke up: "You weren't going to call me?" While he was worried terribly about her, he couldn't stop the fury in his words. She was so ready to put herself into danger. And for what? They were supposed to be there for each other. A team. Her head dropped and he heard her mumble. "I-we need to get out of here, Mulder." He stood confused as she moved to grab the things Amanda had brought her. They needed to move. Now. She couldn't bear to be here any longer, couldn't deal with any of this. Her release papers were signed and she was on forced leave from the hospital, per Father Ybarra's request. Couldn't have a surgeon with an unexplained seizure, could you? She promised to see a neurologist even though she knew they wouldn't find anything-after all of her brain scans came up clean she knew it was *them.* They had to move. She wouldn't let them take him again. She rushed past Mulder and reached for the door when his strong hand grabbed her forearm, holding her in place. "Scully, what's wrong?" She shook from his grasp and quickly walked down the hall, his footfalls hot on her trail. "Scully." Her head was hot and her body was burning. As she rushed through the automatic doors, the cool air hit her skin harshly, causing goosflesh to rise up her arms. The wind blew into her face and her body became rigid. She dropped her coat with a gasp when the voice spoke to her, pleading. *'Mommy, please.'* It wasn't her imagination before. She was going crazy. She needed to get out of the hospital before they locked her up. The coat lay forgotten on the pavement as she rushed into the large parking lot, the late-March snowfall crunching at her stumbling feet. It wasn't safe for either of them. He needed to get home. They would find a new home, away from the darkness. She thought briefly of what they would pack, of what would be left behind. They built a home...no, they were just things. Home was where Mulder was. The world seemed to be crumbling under her feet as she rushed, the darkness forced its way through. *'Save Me'* She located his car crudely parked in the lot, dropping her bag in an attempt to get the door open. Her head hurt so badly. She could feel her brain frying again, but it was softer, as if the person hadn't previously tried to hurt her, and now he was just trying to communicate. It burnt so badly, though. Her legs were unsteady and shook as she yanked at the door. Finally he was behind her, holding the coat that she haphazardly left behind and crouched on the ground picking up the scattered objects from her purse. "We're not safe here, Mulder. You have to go somewhere safe, no matter what happens to me." She opened the car door and attempted to get inside when his arm caught her. "We're not going anywhere until you explain this to me, Scully. What's happening to you?" "I-I let him die," she whispered, looking down at the ground. It tasted like acid on her lips and she wanted it to burn. Wanted to feel the pain; she deserved it. He could question her later about what happened in the hospital, and boy did he have his questions. For now, he needed to get her out of this parking lot, away from *their* eyes. Did Christian not make it through his last treatment? He could swear the boy was doing excellent from Scully's last report. Why did she put herself through this- needing to be admitted in the hospital after her patient died? She needed stability and he knew that after all these years, he had to be the one to be there for her. He needed to tether her to the ground before he lost her forever. "I-I'm sorry Mulder." Another restrained whisper. *Jesus,* was she apologizing from earlier? He put his fingers under her chin and tipped her head up so she was looking at him. Her eyes were red-rimmed and flooded with tears she wouldn't let herself shed. "I'm sorry too, Scully. I-I shouldn't have said those things." "I- I thought I was doing what was best for him." Mulder's breath caught in his chest. Her eyes searched his for an answer. Of all the things he could have ever said to her why did he have to say that? She sucked in breath as she attempted to settle her shaking voice. "I gave up our miracle." He leaned in, winding his arms around her. Suddenly he was taken back 6 years, when he held her as she sobbed over their miracle- their son. It should have never come to that. If he could have just been there for her, protected them-he would find him. "And now, now we can't ever get him back." *'They're gonna get me again.'* She aggressively pushed away from him now, the buzzing in her head nearly overwhelming her body. Her chest was heaving and her eyes were searching around the enclosed lot as her body pressed against the cool metal of their car. He stood away from her, hesitant to step forward. Her once agile but now trembling fingers reached into the lab coat and pulled out the newspaper to hand him. His eyes searched hers in confusion, looking for an answer. Why were her eyes losing focus? What happened to her in the hospital.When she motioned to move back to him her whole body wobbled and her knees gave out. His arms were bracing her instantly, her head pressed firmly against his chest as she moved her tiny feet, trying to stand again. What was happening to her? "Let's get out of here, Scully. It'll be alright." He opened the door and slid her into the car, noticing that she shaking her head no' and holding both sides of it tightly, as if she was trying to relieve pressure. Silent tears slid down her cheeks as she leaned forward, her hair partially covering her face, looking down at a newspaper clipping. He sped away from the lot, remembering her request to find somewhere safe. He could do that. Of all the things he couldn't do, he could get her somewhere safe. He needed to protect her. She was having a mental breakdown. His Scully was breaking and he didn't know what to do about it. So, he did the only thing he could do. He had to tell her. She had to know, once and for all. This was about William, and she needed to know it wasn't her fault. He should have told her all those years ago, but he didn't and she was broken. "I don't blame you." He took a deep breath and clenched his hands tighter on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white."But I will find him" She couldn't hold back her emotions any longer. She couldn't listen to his voice, his *sweet* voice, that was trying to soothe and comfort her. To tell her that everything would be alright. It wouldn't and she didn't think she could bare it. Mulder sped onto the highway ramp, not that she would notice. He trusted them the most and he could get Scully there quickly. They said that it was safe to visit now, he just needed to be careful. Safe. Well Scully needed to be safe, so he was going to take her there. She wouldn't make it through this tragedy. He was gone. There was no going back. There was no silver lining, no maybe he's better offs' to say. No Halloween costumes or first-date jitters. No curveball lessons from Mulder or cupcakes for the PTA. Tombstone. With her son's name, only he no longer was her son. He belonged to someone else. She had no claim, no right to even take flowers to the grave-sight of the child she both brought into the world and killed. And now they were somehow haunting her. Mulder was wrong when he said the dead were not lost to them. They were lost in every possible way a person could be lost and they'd never have him back. *Her son. Her son. Their child.* His eyes spotted the Arlington road sign, and he made the quick exit. They weren't far now.He swallowed, knowing that he needed to say something else, needed to give her hope. So much had been taken from her. "We will get him back, Scully." Her head snapped up at that comment and he glanced to the side to look at her. Her eyes were wide and grief stricken, shaking. There was something she wasn't telling him. Hell, he didn't even know why she was admitted to the hospital in the first place The newspaper crinkled in her tight fist, as her eyes widened and she realized she couldn't do this. Could. Not. Sitting in the car, She began hyperventilating, bracing herself with her splayed hands on the dashboard. Mulder continued to drive, his hands shaking on the wheel. He'd never seen her like this, and he didn't know how to help. He couldn't lose her. The revelation of losing him, truly losing her son hit her and she could no longer fill her lungs properly. She had to tell him. "He's dead, Mulder." "Scully? Who, Scully?" "Our Son." His feet came down heavy on the breaks, the seatbelts snapping back in protest to protect the two drivers. His eyes violently shook as he violently jerked the car to the side of their destination before addressing her. This wasn't real. It wasn't. This wasn't happening. She was wrong. He wouldn't believe. She handed him the crumpled newspaper and he looked down, seeing the headline: 7 year old Boy killed 6 months after parent's death. Police suspect foul play.' That could be anyone. Scully had jumped to conclusions. This was just some random boy. Not their son. It wasn't. Someone was playing a cruel trick on her. His eyes drifted directly below the heading and fell on a picture of the young child that had the Fox Mulder' nose. The one that got him called The Snooping Fox' in school. Tears began to fall from his eyes as he sobbed, rubbing his thumbs over the black and white picture of the boy with Scully's smile staring back at him. This was their son. *'They're right outside the door'* the voice cried in her head, now louder than ever. Screaming erupted in her head, reverberating through her skull and she grabbed at both sides. The boy was screaming and crying and she couldn't make it stop, couldn't hear anything besides the petrified screams. He reached across the car and grabbed her shoulders when Scully began screaming, high- pitched wails echoing through the car and out into the deserted cemetery. "Scully!! Scully!!" The screaming stopped, and she relaxed, looking at him through pained and confused eyes. What wasn't she telling him? What was happening to her? "Mul-" Her eyes rolled back into her head and she became slack in his arms. Three men emerged from a tomb and ran to the car. Mulder held Scully in his arms as they lead him underground. Where she'd be safe. Loud wails echoed in her head, waking her from her sleep. She quickly realized her baby was crying, his little voice aching for her. "Willi," she said out of breath, flipping the comforter off her silk pajama-clad body and hopping out of the bed without a second thought. She navigated the small apartment with ease, pushing the door to his room open she paused, shocked. Instead of her BabiesRus crib stood one that was clearly made by skilled hands, a skillfully crafted buffalo mobile shaking erratically over the bed. Where was the rocking chair she nursed him in with the afghan her mother made? She stood at the doorjamb for a moment, frozen, before seeing the reddened face of her baby boy, wearing his flying-saucer pajamas. Immediately, she crossed the room, the foreign wooden floor hard under her toes, and picked up her son, his smooth skin hot to the touch in her arms. "My baby. My baby boy," her voice shook as she hugged him close and soothed his shaking body. The baby monitor echoed with the sound of a small boy, the voice she continuously heard in her recent dreams and reality: *'Mommy, they got me.'* She looked around the room, clutching the baby closer to her chest, as if he would float off like a balloon. They wouldn't take her son, not again, never again. She would call Mulder and they would sort this out. They would be fine. She had her son back. She refused to acknowledge that years had passed and he should be far from a baby now. She refused to acknowledge the newpaper clipping she read, speaking of her son's death. He wasn't dead, he was in her arms. They could be happy. *'Mommy, I'm afraid. It's dark in here.'* She listened closer and realized that there were two echoes in the room. One was from the baby monitor, meaning the true voice speaking into the device like a walkie-talkie was close by. She crossed the large room and stood in front of the closet door, holding her son to her chest. She placed the baby monitor on the nearby changing table. *'Please save me.'* Maneuvering her now cooing son who was twisting his hands in her extremely long locks with wonder and shoving the fistfuls in his mouth, she reached for the knob of the closet door, opening it slowly and taking a step back. Staring back at her were Mulder's hazel eyes, red from crying, tear tracks stained down his tiny face and round cheeks. * Why did you give me away, Mommy?'* The boy in the closet asked, the sound echoing in the baby monitor, the voice stabbing her like a thousand swords. "I-I" The door sucked out of her hand as if a gust of wind was pulling it away and slammed loud, causing the baby in her arms to cry. "Shh,Shh," she said, bouncing the baby in her arms and fighting back her own tears, smoothing his small patch of strawberry blonde baby hair. That wasn't her son in the closet; It was a cruel trick. She was holding her baby. Maybe she'd been transported back in time. Mulder wouldn't hate her and their son wouldn't be *dead* and she wouldn't feel *dead* or wish she were. She wasn't Dr. Scully, or Ice-Queen. She wasn't Dana Katherine, or Scully, but a *mother.* She wouldn't ruin it this time. A second chance. She wanted to believe. She had to keep her son safe. Soon, Mulder would come and they could be a family again. "s'ok, Willi, Momma's here." The baby stopped wailing and looked up at his mother, eyes glistening in the light. She smiled at her son, tears slipping over her lids and down her face, and his toothless, gummy mouth smiled back at her, his lips beginning to babble. "Momma's got you. I'll protect you." The baby boy dissolved into sand in her arms, the hazel eyes staring up at her now muddled brown grains. Her arms shook violently as it slipped through her fingers and onto the wooden floor, the granules etching their way into the cracks in the floorboard. She fell to the ground and clutched at the pile that was her son, sand moving through her fingers as each fistful dug in the pile, shouting as fat droplets fell from her eyes. "William!" Her voice cracked "Give me back my baby, please." *'I can't feel you, Mommy. Where are you?'* The boy from the closet cried, the sound echoed in the baby monitor. "William!" She screamed, pushing herself from the floor and running to the closet door. "William!" She twisted the knob every way erratically, moving back and forth with both hands Pulling back at the door in jagged motions with her whole body in an attempt to get it open. "GIVE HIM BACK," she banged on the door with both hands, her fists pounding, striking with all of her force each time, the door unyielding. Her hands red and sore, her voice raw as the baby monitor echoed with her son's pleas. "PLEASE." "Records show a death certificate for a William Van de Kamp, Mulder." Mulder paced around the room covering his eyes with his hand. He was too late. He gazed at his partner, his wife, laying silently in the bed, medical equipment attached to her body. He turned and looked at the three men, who heard his lover's screams and ran from their safety to help. She'd fainted hours ago and already he'd confirmed their son's death and contacted Skinner, Monica Reyes and John Doggett. Maybe he couldn't bring his son back, but he could kill the men who took their son from him from *Scully.* He looked around the home they were staying in. The shelter could fit nearly 40 people comfortably if needed, and Mulder was glad that they had prepared. "Did you pull the cameras?" Mulder asked. "She had this clipping in her pocket, she couldn't have found it in the local paper. Someone purposefully left it." Byers nodded and pulled up the footage on his monitor, divided between the floor Scully worked, her office and their changing quarters. "There!" Mulder shouted, noting the woman slip into the Doctor's quarters and out quickly. They followed the woman through the building, and watched on the camera as she exited and climbed into the backseat of a black sedan "License plates are stolen." "Dammit" Mulder hollered, slamming his fists on the table. He walked over to Scully's bedside and watched her sleeping form, her eyes rapidly moving under her lids. She moaned in her sleep and her brow furrowed. "It doesn't make sense. Why would they go after him now?" Langly spoke, his long body perched on the chair. "He was just a baby the last time." "JESUS! Fucking magnetite," Mulder shouted, running from Scully's bedside and over to the computer. "William was in Wyoming." "Mountains have magnetite," Frohike added in, catching exactly what he was saying. "Spender injected William with magnetite as a baby. Scully, she-she's been having these dreams about William for a while. I just thought she was missing him, but they were getting worse and worse. I just wanted to think that she was dreaming but what if-" "The telekinetic powers returned when he was moved because of his parents-adoptive parents death and he was reaching out to Scully." "She must have realized." "Where was he moved to?" Mulder asked, and Langly began typing furiously. Funny thing was when Mulder was looking they couldn't find anything on the boy. Once they had a name, though, everything opened at the snap of his fingers. William Van de Kamp. No. William Scully. William Scully-Mulder. William Mulder. He needed to marry Scully, in the real sense. He called her his wife but that was common-law marriage. It was just a piece of paper, but he should have married her. Should have given Scully a ring and proposed the moment he found out that she was carrying his son. But he hadn't. And now their son was a Van de Kamp. Scratch that, he was dead, and it was all his fault. Scully would never forgive him. Would she even stay? He couldn't bear to think otherwise. "He was moved to - Oh my God, he was moved to Maryland to live with an Aunt, and her husband." He was close. The whole time, over the last few months their son was only hours away and he hadn't found him. He failed and William paid the price. "Can we get Monica and John to talk to them?" "Texting them their address now." He would find their son's killer. He would get vengeance. It was the only thing he could ever do for his son. He just hoped that he'd be able to put Scully back together again. The cell phone in his pocket buzzed and Mulder quickly grabbed it "Mulder," his voice cracked as he answered the line. "The med student that called you initially said that Dana had a mild seizure. Her tests showed nothing, which apparently is common in seizure patients, but she had to sign some forms before she left. She's on a leave of absence per the request of the hospital." Skinner finished. "I should be there in less than 30 minutes." Mulder hung up the phone and continued to pace. "If he was causing the dreams, what's happening to her now?" Mulder asked to himself, moving across the room and back to Scully. Suddenly, the machines she was on began to beep and Scully began to move in the bed, ripping the wires from her arms and twisting in the sheets, "PLEASE," she screamed, thrashing. Mulder rushed over and placed his arms on her shoulders, holding her down with his weight. She beat at his arms and kicked her legs in protest. " Give him back! Give me my son!" "Scully. Scully, calm down," Mulder begged, his face knotted in agony. She recognized his voice and immediately stopped. Scully opened her eyes to find Mulder's hands restraining her body, his eyes petrified, cheeks tear-stained, staring down at her. Her eyes were wild and crazed as she looked into his. Her boy, *their son.* They had him. They had to find him. Mulder removed his hands from her shoulders and pulled her to him, kneeling beside the small bed to hold her in his arms. "You had another dream." Her head rested against his shoulder as she began to sob and he joined her, joining her in her mourning. When she pushed back from him, he could finally see her. Her blue eyes were red-rimmed but bright. Her voice shook as she spoke, tears bubbling over her eyes. Mulder's heard stopped in his chest when he heard words he'd never thought he'd hear again. "He's alive, Mulder." He wanted to believe. If he wanted to keep his sanity he had to.