Title: Lost Time (1/1)
Author and E-mail: Kalynn
feedback please!  kalynn95@juno.com
Homepage: Kalynn's Fan Fiction
http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Shadowlands/5579
(please visit and let me know what you think of it or my stories!)
Rating: PG (Mulder does like to swear...)
Classification: S/A
Keywords: M/S UST (I guess, though it should be safe for no-romos and
shippers and all in between)   
Summary: Mulder recalls a recent case and how it relates to a case from
years before.
Spoiler: Firewalker.  
Timeframe: Anytime before The End

Archive:  Okay for Gossamer, others ask first, thanks!

Author's Notes:   Ah, well, hum.  For starters, I don't know why I came
up with this idea.  I just felt the need for some non-conspiracy arc
angst.  It's not very long, so give it a whirl, 'kay?

Disclaimer: Straight simple and to the point:  Mulder and Scully are
property of FOX Television, 1013 Productions, Chris Carter, and probably
a bunch of other people. If I owned them, I wouldn't need student loans. 
And no Mag-Lites were harmed in the telling of this story *g*

Lost Time

Fox Mulder sat in his chair, staring at the calendar that sat on his
desk.  No matter how he tried to ignore it or deny it, the dates stared
back at him.  If an inanimate object could stare accusingly, it was doing
a damn good job at it.  For several days he had been fighting against the
memories that flickered back during the day, and purged his dreams at
night.

In the years following Scully's abduction, he had always faced the
anniversary of it with trepidation.    This year had been no different,
and after some time he had managed to move past it once again.  He was no
fool, he knew Scully noticed his behavior at this time every year.  For a
week or so he would grow protective of his partner, almost overbearingly
so.  After enough looks of concern and annoyance, he would go back to his
not quite so overwhelming protective state.

This year had been different.  He knew instinctively that the date of her
surprising return had come and gone.  As had the day of her awakening
from her coma.  These events were not what triggered his emotions during
the past few days.

*****

They had been investigating a case where the suspect captured his
victims, usually young women, and held them, bound and gagged, in a
basement.  While he kept them captive, they had no light and little food
or water.  Randomly he would come and antagonize them, but never assault
them.  It was only after a given period of time that he would see fit to
kill them by injecting them with a substance that took their life slowly.
 It was believed that each victim was still aware while their heart and
lungs slowly stopped functioning.

For two weeks they had been working with VCU to try and find an angle on
the case that might help lead to the apprehension of a suspect.  In that
time the killer had taken two different women.  One a college student,
and the other a young professional.  It was during this time that Mulder
found himself being plagued by the nightmares that had been a part of his
life while working under Bill Patterson.

The first break in the case came when they found Tracy Wicker still
clinging to life.  She revealed hours later that she had struggled when
she was injected and he had been unable to give her the entire dose.  In
his haste, he had grown nervous and dumped the body.  Much to Tracy
Wicker's luck.  It was she who provided them with the first hard details
they had managed to gather.

While they had been in pursuit, the killer managed to grab Scully.  They
had been helping to clear a building when Mulder heard her call out. 
Running to where he had heard her frantic cry, the only sign that she had
ever been there was her Mag-Lite flashlight lying in the dust.  For the
next fourteen hours Mulder had berated himself for not paying close
enough attention.  

The only way he managed to focus, was forcing himself to find the son of
a bitch that had dared take his partner.  Memories had flashed across his
near-perfect memory of other times Scully had been taken as a result of
his inattention.  Barry.  Phaster.  So many times she'd faced perils.  So
many times she had lost precious minutes, hours, even months of her life
that she should be allowed to live to the fullest.  At his hands.

Time had a way of slowing in Mulder's life at anytime he knew Dana Scully
was in trouble, unlike at any other time in his life.  The slowest
stretch of time was that in which they had discovered the location of the
house where the killer held his victims, and actually arriving at the
house.  Ever so slowly, it seemed to his pounding heart, the team
approached the old-style two story house.

>From just down the street, an agent looking through binoculars spotted a
man walking toward the kitchen of the house.  The signal was given and
the team converged upon the building.  Mulder, having refused to not be
in the lead, entered the kitchen barely maintaining protocol in his haste
to find Scully.  Clearing the kitchen, he saw what appeared to be the
entrance to a basement.  Pulling out his Mag-Lite he crossed the room and
pulled open the wooden door.  

Instead of finding a basement, he entered a small room with another door
at the far end.  From the other side of the door, Mulder could hear a
struggle and inaudible cries.  Not thinking, he ran at the door, knocking
it off rusted hinges with his shoulder.  The scene before him drove him
to distraction as images of Donnie Phaster overlapped onto the present.

The killer saw the slack creep into Mulder's posture as he both lived and
relived the two incidents at the same time.  Scully, from where she sat
in the corner of the damp basement, could also see the fog filter across
Mulder's soft hazel eyes.  She struggled to cry out around rag that was
still jammed in her mouth, but barely managed a muffled noise.

Scully's attempt getting Mulder's attention worked.  His vision cleared
just in time to see the killer hesitate between Scully in the far corner
and himself near the door.  Mulder aimed his gun and fired just as the
killer rushed toward him.  The sound of the gun shot in the stone
basement was deafening.  The attacker fell against Mulder, dropped to his
knees and toppled over onto the floor.

Mulder, however, had eyes only for his partner.  He hurriedly stepped
over the man's body and kneeled by Scully's side.  Reaching up, he gently
pulled the gag from her mouth.

"Mulder," she said hoarsely.

He brushed her hair away from her forehead softly.  "Sh.  It's okay. 
You're okay."  His voice was whispered.

"No.  Your arm, Mulder.  Look at your arm."  In his rush to reach Scully,
he had failed to notice that when the  murderer had slammed into him, he
had stuck a syringe in his arm.  "How do you feel?"  Her eyes, still
shaken, searched his.

His gaze alternated between the plastic syringe sticking out of his arm
and the worried blue eyes staring at him.  "I think I'm okay, Scully. 
Let me get your hands free."  He could hear other agents coming down the
stairs and it suddenly occurred to him that everything had happened so
quickly, they were just now catching up to where he had ran in his rush. 
"Can you stand up?"

Scully nodded her head and leaned gingerly on the wall to help support
her half-asleep legs.  Hearing a scraping noise, she turned her head to
where Mulder had been standing, only to watch him slowly slide down the
wall.  "Mulder?"

"Scully . . .   I don't feel so good . . . "  Mulder's eyes closed and
Scully reached for his neck, searching for a pulse.  A medical team soon
filed into the quickly filling basement.  Two men hurried Mulder up and
out to an ambulance, while another helped Scully up to the street level. 


Scully was soon taken to the hospital similar to Mulder had been several
minutes before.  After being checked out, the doctors confirmed what she
had already known.  Aside from lack of food and water, and a slight
sensitivity to light, she was physically none the worse for wear.  Only
time would tell if Michael Lavene would haunt her dreams the way Duane
Barry was known to.  It was only after being cleared of any long term
effects of her captivity that she was allowed to see Mulder.

She entered a hospital room, not unlike many both she and her partner had
known throughout the years.  On the far side of the room, Mulder lay
covered by a sterile sheet.  An I.V. ran into the back of his right hand,
which was exposed from under the sheet.  Walking nearer to him, she could
see his face betrayed his medicated state.  It was the only time she knew
of that he slept a dreamless sleep.

She had been sitting beside his bed, gently holding his hand ever since
she had been allowed to see him.  It was sometime later that she noticed
him beginning to stir.  First it was a flickering of his eyelashes.  Then
his fingers ever so slightly moving against her hand.  She reached up and
brushed the hair away from his forehead in a gesture similar to his when
he had removed the gag.

"Hey there," she said when bleary eyes found hers.  "What have I told you
about playing the hero, huh?"  Scully managed to keep her tone light, but
it couldn't hide the raw emotion that floated in her eyes.  The thought
of any more time of being held nearly helpless shook her to the core.

Confusion found it's way into Mulder's eyes, and across his features. 
After Scully gave him a few ice chips, he was finally able to voice his
concern.  "Are you okay?"  He was taken aback by the sight of his often
stoic partner working to control her soft laughter.  "What?"  His
confusion was growing by the minute.  He couldn't help but wonder why it
was him in the hospital bed, she was the one who had been hurt by that
maniac.

"Mulder, I'm fine."  At his scathing look, she amended her previous
statement.  "Now, anyway.  I was better as soon as I was able to get away
from that basement.  How do you feel?"

Laying there, feeling blessed with a Dana Scully thousand watt smile, he
tried to recall what events had led to his being in the hospital.  "I
feel like my head is full of cotton.  But why?"  His eyes took on a
little boy quality that Scully decided she was not allowed to see nearly
often enough.

Scully stood and walked down to the foot of the bed.  Picking up Mulder's
chart, she scanned the information it contained.  "Michael Lavene caught
you with the syringe he had intended to use on me."  He could see her
work on her professional control, but underneath it he saw a pain that
was barely concealed.  She might be able to fool others, but the
emotional scars were there on full display for his eyes.  He silently
cursed his inability to keep the one person who meant more than anything
to him from such needless agony.  "Ah," she cleared her throat before
continuing.  "Turns out he had been planning to play a few mind games
with me.  The syringe hadn't been filled with what had killed the other
women.  Instead it contained a very strong sedative.  Enough to knock you
out for quite a while."

She returned to her seat beside his bed, waiting to see if he would have
any comment.  "How?  Do you know what he had intended?"

"You're aim was a little off, partner.  When you shot him, it wasn't
fatal.  When he woke up, he was confronted with what evidence had been
gathered.  Surprisingly, he confessed rather quickly.  While he was busy
spilling details of the other murders, he revealed his intentions toward
me.  It seems he knew I was a part of the team investigating him.  He
needed a mouse to his cat."

Mulder laughed.  "Boy did he pick the wrong person.  If you're anything,
it's not a mouse."  She smiled at his comment, and he continued.  "Did he
say why he did it?"  She shook her head no silently.  There was never a
reason behind this type of madness.  "I'm sorry, Scully."  He had trouble
meeting her eyes following his apology.


"Mulder, I should be thanking you.  Not forgiving you.  You saved my
life.  Not for the first time, I might add."  She had stood and started
to pace as she was speaking, but stood still as she waited for him to
respond.

He distracted himself by fiddling with the sheet pulled up to his chest,
not wanting to meet her gaze.  "I can't help it, Scully.  You should
never have been forced to go through that in the first place.  If working
in the X-Files has taught me anything, it's that you should be able to
enjoy all the time you have, and have control of it as well.  Time and
again, because of me, you don't."

Sighing she said, "It's not like that.  Well, it is, but not in the way
you mean.  Risk is a part of the job.  We both knew that when we signed
on.  You didn't sign an additional contract to take responsibility for
whenever something bad happens to me."

Although he simply nodded his head in response, he couldn't help thinking
<On the contrary, Scully.  I think I did>.

*****

He had lost track of how long he had been sitting behind his desk,
accomplishing little more than staring at the cluttered desktop before
him.  Although she had been kind enough to give him a wide berth, Mulder
had noted Scully's increasing glances in his direction.  When he noticed
her look over at him for the third time in less than a minute, he stood
and grabbed his jacket.

"I'll be back in a little while, Scully."  At least she wouldn't be able
to yell at him for simply running off.  Not, he conceded, that he had
told her where he was going.  He just needed some space to breathe.  He
knew there would come a time when even Scully's seemingly unending
compassion would grow thin, and she would tire of dealing with his
bottomless well of guilt and despair.

Having no real destination in mind, Mulder walked somewhat aimlessly. 
For sometime he walked slowly through the Mall, seeking a refuge no place
could provide.  Eventually he found his way to the Reflecting Pool and
found a seat along its edge.  Listening to the gentle lapping of the
water along the edge, he let the soft noise lull him into what peace it
could offer.

Closing his eyes, he felt the warmth of the sun on his face.  In his mind
he recalled the case whose memory had been triggered by Michael Lavene's
cruel acts.  The cases were quite dissimilar when viewed from a distant
perspective.  Only in Mulder's mind could they grow so intertwined.  

Following Scully's abduction at the hands of forces unknown and her
subsequent return, it had taken some time before they again functioned as
agents in the field.  Skinner had reopened the X-Files, although
pressured greatly not to do so.  It was later that he and Scully had been
contacted by Adam Pierce to investigate the mystery surrounding a group
of scientists working at Mount Avalon, an active volcano.  

Sometimes, if Mulder concentrated hard enough, he could still smell the
stench of the volcanic gases that had filled his senses when he followed
Ludwig in search of the team's missing leader.  During that case, he had
felt an overwhelming urge to protect Scully.  She had just regained her
life, he meant to do anything to guarantee she had a chance to live it. 
The sense of relief that had flooded him at finding her safe, removed
from Jessie O'Neil when the last of the spores had ruptured, was still
hard to describe in it's intensity.

It was the next month that Mulder regretted more than the rest of it put
together.  She had been lost for three months, away from home, her
family, everything that mattered to her.  He still felt guilt over the
fact that within weeks she again was forced apart from them.  The
quarantine was miserable for both of them.  Scully for having just found
her life again and being ripped apart from it so soon.  And Mulder for
feeling at fault for her suffering yet more lost time.

As was the pattern they had established, neither spoke of it.  Mulder
kept his ever growing burden of self-imposed guilt inside, and Scully
neither blamed nor forgave her suffering partner.  It was only now, years
later, that the pain again boiled to the surface of Mulder's soul.

It was like this, sitting alone and lost amidst his own memories, that
Scully found Mulder.  Sometime after he had nearly sprinted from the
office, she had closed the files she had been working on and left in
search of her wayward partner.  She had thought that maybe he would deal
with what was bothering him on his own, the way he did so many other
times.  However, she finally forced herself to admit that he needed her
help, as much as she needed to help him.

She had been unsure what it was that was bothering him until she saw his
calendar and the scribbled note on it.  <Firewalker> was all that it had
said.  Still, it had been enough.  Suddenly the reason for Mulder's
reserved behavior was clear.  Scully had grabbed her jacket and followed
her partner's path from the office.  

There were only a few places she could think of that he might retreat to
in his current state of mind.  She was relieved when her first choice had
been proven right.  She had spotted him from several yards away, the sun
reflecting off of his wind tossed hair.  As she walked closer she could
see that his eyes were closed, but instinctively knew he wasn't asleep.

"This seat taken?"  At her query, she saw his body tense and his eyes fly
open.

Moving to the side a bit, he responded.  "Ah, no.  That is, if you want
to sit there."

Scully sat next to Mulder, and leaned back, enjoying the warmth of the
sun on her face.    The sun was the thing she missed most since moving
into a basement office.  After a few moments of awkward silence, she
spoke.  "I know you're upset."

He straightened his posture, fidgeting with his jacket.  "Scully . . . "

Looking directly in his eyes, she interrupted.  "No.  Mulder, talk to me.
 I know you're upset.  I think I know why, but you have to talk to me." 
She watched as what resolve he had managed to build up dissipated from
his hazel eyes.  "Mulder?"

He found that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't find the emotional
reserves to avoid her request.  The truth was something he claimed to
seek, now it was time for him to face a few of his own.  "I'm sorry," he
saw Scully start to interrupt him again, but raised a hand to plead with
her to allow him to continue.  "There are so many times I wish I had been
a better partner.  The Lavene case just reminded me of others.  After you
were taken, I didn't know how to cope, much less exist."  He saw
memories, or rather the lack there of show in her blue eyes.  "Then you
were given back to me.  Like a birthday gift I never deserved.  In the
time afterwards, I wanted to make up to you the time you had lost."

"Mulder . . . "  Her eyes had softened, and she reached up her hand to
brush away a tear that had slid down his cheek.

Taking her hand in between his own he continued unabated.  "As a welcome
back present I managed to drag you off to the middle of no where in the
pacific northwest.  Which in turn not only exposed you to a deadly
parasite, but forced you to lose another month of your life locked away
in a quarantine away from everyone you cared about."

Scully sighed.  She was torn between how touching his gesture was, and
how much it bothered her to be treated like a china doll.  "Mulder, I
chose to go to that volcano site.  I knew the dangers.  I'm not glass, I
won't break.  And I wasn't away from everyone I cared about, I had my
best friend there by my side the whole time."

Mulder had been reduced to staring at his partner as she spoke, at a loss
for what to say in response to her statements.  He was saved from having
to respond when she added, "And all of the Donnie Phasters and Michael
Lavenes won't change that.  You're there for me when I need you.  Always
looking a little while longer, following that one last clue.  Why should
you be sorry for that?"

Tears had filled her eyes while she was speaking, a silent plea with
Mulder to understand the feeling behind her words.  "Scully, there's
something that I've never said to anyone.  Well, not and had it mean
anything, anyway."  He looked into her blue eyes, and saw the curiosity
he had sparked within them.  "I love you, partner."

She leaned closer to where he was sitting and kissed him gently on the
forehead.  "I love you, too."

Seconds later, with the moment broken, Mulder stood.  "Do you figure
anyone has noticed we're gone yet, Scully?"

Laughing she stood to stand beside Mulder and began walking in the
direction of the Hoover building.  "Probably not, but unless you want to
explain to Skinner why last month's expense report wasn't on his desk on
time we better get back.  Because if it is late, you're going in there
alone, buddy."  He played shocked indignation against her evil laugh,
catching up to her in three long strides.

Putting his arm on top of her shoulders as they walked, he laughed.  "Not
a chance, buddy."

fin

Kalynn's Fan Fiction Page (XFIies and Profiler):
http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Shadowlands/5579
Always remember to forget  The friends that proved untrue
But never forget to remember  Those that stood by you.  --  Irish
Blessing