SHOULDERING THE BLAME

By dee_ayy@yahoo.com 

Disclaimer: They're not mine. Legally, they belong to 1013 Productions
and 20th Century Fox. Morally, they belong to Chris Carter, David Duchovny,
Gillian Anderson, and the rest of the people who bring these characters
to life. Don't sue. There are bigger fish to fry than me, I'm sure.

Rating: Ahhhh, PG-13 for language (not much). MTA rating? Maybe 4. You
decide.

Archive: Sure, Why not. But tell me.

Feedback: Is encouraged. Hell, by now it is EXPECTED. Not only can take
it, I pretty much live for it. So don't let me down! dee_ayy@yahoo.com

Thanks: Vickie, Vickie, Vickie. Some call you a muse. I call you a slave
driver.

Summary: The further adventures of Mulder as he recovers from shoulder
surgery--at the Scully's, with Bill in attendence. Followup to "Shouldering
Responsibility."

PREVIOUSLY, ON "SHOULDERING RESPONSIBILITY":
You really should go find the first story. People seemed to like it! But
in case you're too lazy, here's what you missed, in a nutshell. Mulder was
ordered (by Skinner, of course) to have his recurrent dislocating shoulder
surgically repaired. In typically Mulder fashion, he decided not to tell
Scully about it, and have the surgery, which he believed would only require
an overnight hospital stay, over the Christmas holidays, while Scully was
at her mom's with her family--including brother Bill and his family. In
typical Scully fashion, however, she found out, and arrived at the hospital
in time to see Mulder as he woke up after surgery. In typical Mulder torture
fashion, his recovery from surgery was not so smooth (there was vomit! there
was pain!), and he actually ended up in the hospital for almost three days.
We rejoin our intrepid agents on Friday morning, December 28, the day Mulder
is to be released from our favorite hospital, Northeast Georgetown Medical
Center. Scully has just arrived at his room. So, without further ado, I
humbly offer "Shouldering The Blame." 
___________________________________________________________________

Shouldering The Blame (1/2)
by dee_ayy



Scully had settled herself onto Mulder's bed when they both heard the
commotion outside. She got up and looked out the door. "Mulder, I think
it's for you!"

Like the Three Stooges, the Lone Gunmen pushed themselves through the
door, with an orderly hot on their heels. "Excuse me, sirs! Sirs! You
were told downstairs that you could not all come up! There are too many
of you! Only two visitors per patient! Two of you will have to come with
me!"

By now the orderly had reached the door, where Scully was standing. She
flashed her badge at the man. "It's all right. They're here on official
business. I'll take responsibility for them. They won't be here long."
The orderly did not seem convinced, but he backed off, and Scully closed
the door.

Mulder watched the guys with a bemused smile, as they all looked at Scully
with reverence. Frohike was the first to speak. "Thanks, Agent Scully!
You didn't have to do that!"

"Don't read anything into the gesture, Frohike. Just stay out of
trouble, will you?"

"Scout's honor, Dr. Scully. Hey, Mulder. What the heck you doing
in here?"

"Nose job, Frohike." He gestured to his arm. "What do
you THINK I'm doing in here! How the hell did you find out, anyway?"

Byers took this one. "Well, we were trying to reach you. One of
our contacts was picking up some bizarre electromagnetic wave readings in
central Illinois, and we thought you might be interested. When we couldn't
track you down for three days, Langley here decided to check the hospitals,
and lo and behold, here you are. You okay?"

Mulder rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine. THREE DAYS--not even--and
your first thought is the hospitals? It is Christmastime, you know. Maybe
I was just on vacation!"

Langley guffawed. "YOU? Come on, Mulder, you kidding? How long we
know you? How many vacations you taken? So you finally got that shoulder
fixed, huh? Why now? You hurt it again?"

"Naaah, It was an order. Do this or take a seat. It wasn't my idea."

"Wow, that really sucks, Mulder. Sorry. Medline on the web says
this surgery hurts like hell."

"You looked it up? Langley, I'm touched. I didn't know you cared.
Hurts like hell, huh? Yeah, that's accurate. But I'll live. No problem.
Frohike, stop drooling."

Frohike jumped upon hearing his name, and peeled his eyes off Scully,
who had resumed her position sitting cross-legged on Mulder's bed. "Huh?
What you say Mulder?"

"Nothing, Frohike. Glad to see you're so concerned about _me_."

"Sorry. Your lovely partner puts me under a spell. What can I say?
You need anything? How long are you stuck in here?"

"I should be sprung any moment now. And for that reason, you guys
should take off. Don't want them thinking I like it here so much I'm having
a party."

In an effort to be collegial, Langley went over to Mulder and gave him
a fraternal shove on the uninjured side, but Mulder didn't see it coming,
and the push moved his entire body to the left, pushing the injured side
into the arm of the chair. Mulder gasped in pain, and Byers smacked his
bespectacled blond cohort on the back of the head. "Langley, what are
you doing?? Don't touch!" He turned to the FBI agent. "Sorry,
Mulder, he's an idiot. You know that. We're going. If you need anything
when you get home, give us a call, okay? You take care."

Mulder had regained his composure. "Thanks Byers, guys. I appreciate
the visit. Really. I'll be in touch." The three men exited, bickering
the whole way.

"God, Mulder, I don't know how you put up with them. They're exhausting!"

Mulder was smiling. "Not really. They're amusing. And a never-ending
source of information."

"They're _nuts_, Mulder, that's what they are." The conversation
ended abruptly when Dr. Sumner pushed his way into the room. His face registered
surprise upon seeing Scully on the bed, but he soon located Mulder in the
chair.

"Well, look at you. I dare say you almost look human this morning,
Mulder!"

"No thanks to you."

"Hey, hey, you'll be thanking me one of these days, mark my words.
Let's take a look." He removed the bandage over Mulder's incision,
and for the first time since the surgery, Mulder dared to look.

"Are those.... STAPLES?"

"Indeed they are. They are much easier to use than sutures, just
as effective, and actually decrease the chances of wound infection."

"You _stapled_ me shut? That's disgusting!"

"That's technology, Mulder."

"Well I hope you didn't put any of those things on the inside."

"Nope, nope. Old fashioned needle and thread in there. Some doctors
use staples inside and out, though. But you won't be setting off any metal
detectors or anything, don't you worry. It looks fine." Dr. Sumner
replaced the bandage. "So, how are you feeling this morning, all things
considered? Better?"

"Yeah. Couldn't feel worse than a couple of days ago."

Sumner was inspecting Mulder's left hand. "Any tingling in your
fingers, or noticeable feelings of weakness in your arm?"

"Nope."

"Great. So, you had your last IV pain meds early this morning, right?
How's the pain? Bet you feel it when you move. Squeeze my hand." The
doctor had grasped Mulder's left hand.

Mulder squeezed--and winced. "When I'm just sitting here it's just
kind of a dull ache. Nothing too bad. But yeah, when I move at all it talks
to me."

"That's normal. The secret is twofold. First, take your pain meds
like clockwork. _Don't_ let the effects wear off. And second, just stay
put for a few days. Let someone," Sumner looked over to Scully, "wait
on you."

Mulder saw the glance to his partner. This was exactly what he'd wanted
to avoid. "No, no, I'll be fine. Just let me get out of here. I'll
manage."

Sumner looked surprised. "Mulder, you don't think for a second that
you can take care of yourself at home, right now, do you? This isn't like
a reduced dislocation, where you CAN move your shoulder, but shouldn't.
You CAN'T. It won't move, period. You can't button a shirt, tie a shoe,
open a jar of mayonnaise, probably. Surely you just noticed that even grasping
something causes pain in your shoulder. Haven't you made arrangements for
help?"

Mulder was dumbfounded. "Ummm, no, it didn't really occur to me.
What are my options?"

"Well, I can think of three off-hand. Isn't there an FBI infirmary
out at Quantico? They probably have in-patient beds for people needing to
recover but not needing a hospital bed. If not, there's a similar facility
out in Baltimore--sort of a hotel with nurses. Expensive, though, and I've
yet to find an insurance company that will sign off on it. Especially for
orthopedic complaints. Then there's a private duty nurse or home health
aid who could stay with you at your place, but the chances of finding someone
available and willing to work during Christmas week is virtually nil. And
then the third, the obvious one: find a friend or family member to help
you out."

Scully jumped in here. "He's coming home with me."

Mulder spun around in his chair to look at his partner, and gasped with
the pain that it caused him. It took him a second to get his breath back.
"No, I am _not_, Scully. I am not going to horn in on your family reunion.
I'll manage. I'll be _fine_."

"Mulder, look at yourself. You can barely move. And listen to what
the doctor is saying to you. You _can't_ manage. You really want to spend
the next week in an infirmary? Or with a stranger in your tiny apartment?
Or depending on the Gunmen and hoping they don't kill you? Mom's house is
huge, you know that. There is plenty of room for you. And she would love
to have you. You know that, too. Besides, Charlie left yesterday, so it's
just me and mom and Bill and his family."

Bill. That was the problem right there. Scully obviously had no idea
about the extent of Bill and Mulder's history, or she wouldn't be making
this offer. Mulder knew that. He'd never told her about his various run-ins
with Bill, and obviously Bill hadn't said anything, either. At least he
gets credit for that. But there was no way he wanted to put himself back
under the same roof with Bill Scully if he could help it. The problem, however,
was how did he avoid it? He'd recovered from various injuries and ailments
at Margaret's before. How did he bow out gracefully this time, without upsetting
his partner, or arousing her suspicions?

"No, Scully, can't do it. It's the holidays. That's a time for family.
And as much as you and your mom like to pretend, especially at this time
of the year, I am _not_ a member of your family. It wouldn't seem right."
The minute the words left his mouth he knew that this was the worst approach
he could have taken. The look on Scully's face passed from confused, to
hurt, to indignant in the space of one sentence. She didn't say a word.
She just flipped open her cell phone and dialed.

"Hi, mom?" She turned her back on Mulder and strolled to the
far corner of the room, talking quietly.

Mulder groaned, and looked at the doctor. "They're ganging up on
me, here. I know it. Help me out, Doc."

"Why would I do that? Sounds to me like the perfect solution. My
priority is your well-being, and I can't think of anything better than a
little mothering!"

Scully strode purposefully back across the room, took the phone from
her ear, and held it out to her partner. "Mulder, mom want's to talk
to you." Mulder rolled his eyes and took the phone with his good hand.

"Hi, Mrs. Scully. No, I'm fine. . . . Really I am. . . . No, honestly,
it's not necessary. I'll figure something out. . . . No, it's not that bad.
Dana is exaggerating." Scully shot him a look, and he glared back.
"I don't want to intrude. . . . I know, I know. No, that's not what
I meant. You're like family to me, too. I just . . . wouldn't feel right.
. . . I don't know. Please, Mrs. Scully, don't. . . . And don't say that.
I didn't mean. . . . Okay, okay, okay. You win. But just for a couple of
days, okay? All right. Thanks, and I guess I'll see you later." He
turned off the phone, and glared at Scully. Both she and the doctor were
trying not to laugh.

"I hate you, Dana Scully. I really do. Why did you have to tell
her I said that?"

"Whatever it takes, Mulder, whatever it takes. It will be fun. You'll
see."

Mulder turned his gaze on the doctor. "This is _not_ going to be
best for my well-being. You wait and see."

"Well, I don't know about that, Mulder. I'm going to go and get
to work on your discharge papers. I know a physical therapist is floating
around the building somewhere. I'll track her down and get her in here so
you can go home with your partner. It shouldn't take her long to show you
what you need to do between now and your office visit next week. Hopefully
we'll get you out of here before lunch. In the mean time, why don't you
get dressed. I'll be back."

Scully hopped off the bed as the doctor left. "Where are your clothes,
Mulder?"

"I dunno. But I'd guess the closet. Wouldn't _you_?"

"Don't be smart with me, Mulder. I thought you'd be glad to be going
home."

"I'm not _going_ home, remember?"

Scully chuckled, and opened the closet door. "Good God, Mulder!
What were you thinking when you got dressed on Wednesday?"

"Huh?"

"Button-fly jeans? Pullover shirt? Shoes with laces? And you thought
you'd be able to take care of yourself! Exactly HOW did you think you'd
get into this stuff with one hand?"

"Hey, I had two when I put them on, remember? I didn't think about
what it would be like after."

"Well, maybe you should have. Why don't I take a run to your house
and get some other clothes for you. We need get some stuff for you to have
at mom's anyway--I may as well do it now."

"No, Scully, stay here. We can stop at my apartment on our way to
your mom's. Just help me into this stuff."

"How are we going to get your left arm through the T-shirt? It's
not going to happen, Mulder. You need button-front stuff!"

"So I won't put the shirt on. My leather jacket's in there, isn't
it?"

"Well, sure, but it IS December, Mulder!"

"We won't worry about it." By now Mulder had gingerly lifted
himself out of his chair. He moved slowly to the closet, and grabbed his
shorts and his jeans. "Be right back." And he headed into the
bathroom.

"Call me when you need me, Mulder. And you will!" She smiled
knowingly, and sat in Mulder's chair.

Mulder got his pajama bottoms off easily, and got the underwear on with
relatively little pain. He sat on the commode, and snaked his right leg
into his jeans. The left leg posed a problem. He couldn't grasp across his
body with his right arm in order to pull them up. He was forced to start
over, this time putting his _left_ leg through first. He had both legs in,
and pulled up to his knees when he stood up. Everything hurt--his arm, his
stomach from his recent bouts of vomiting, everything. And he was quickly
becoming out of breath from the pain and the effort. But he was determined
to get this done. He grasped his jeans, and tried to pull them over his
hips evenly. But he lost his balance, and despite a fine effort to regain
it, he keeled to the left, and banged his left side into the wall.

"Oh, FUCK!"

Scully was at the bathroom door in a flash. "Mulder? You all right?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." Mulder was panting.

"I'm coming in Mulder."

"I've got it, Scully. Just lost my balance for a sec."

"Lost your _balance_? I'm coming in." She opened the door and
found Mulder with his jeans up to mid-thigh. He was leaning with his back
against the wall. "What do you mean lost your balance? Are you dizzy?"

Mulder grinned slightly. "No, _Doctor_. Just leaned too far to the
left, and didn't have a wing to put out to regain my equilibrium. Just like
I said--I lost my balance. The wall here helped me out, though."

Scully shook her head. "Oh, yeah. You can take care of yourself.
Sure you can. Let me help you." She grabbed the belt loops on either
side of Mulder's hips, and had the jeans pulled up in a second. "Look
at how easy that was!" She went to button his jeans, starting at the
bottom.

"Watch it, Scully. Behave yourself down there!" Scully laughed.

* * * * *

Mulder was back sitting on his bed. He was dressed from the waist down.
Scully was in the chair, and she was watching Mulder as he flipped television
channels. She looked at her watch, and Mulder caught the action out of the
corner of his eye.

"No kidding. Where it this physical therapist, anyway? I'm not eating
lunch here. I promise you that."

"I'm sure they're really busy. Patience, Mulder." They both
looked up when the door opened, hoping it was the PT. But it was a nurse.

"Sorry you're still here. We don't know where that therapist is.
But in the mean time it's time for your meds. Pills this time!" She
handed Mulder a cup with pills in it, and he looked inside.

"Three?"

"Two for pain, one's an antibiotic. Dr. Sumner is very cautious
about post-op infections." The nurse poured a glass of water and handed
it to the agent as he was tossing back all three pills. "I'm going
to go get you a lunch tray. You shouldn't take that antibiotic on an empty
stomach. It can cause nausea, and I think you've had enough of _that_ to
last a while!" She winked at him and left.

"Can't we just stop for a burger when we get out of here, Scully?"

"Who knows when that will be, Mulder? Better eat a little bit, anyway.
Antibiotics can wreak havoc on your stomach. You know that." An orderly
entered with a tray, and placed it on the table. Scully lifted the lid.
"Look, Mulder, it _is_ a burger!"

He picked it up, took a bite, and dropped it disdainfully on the plate.
"That is _not_ a hamburger, Scully."

"Shut up and eat, Mulder."

He took two more bites, and pushed the tray away. At that moment, the
door opened, and a young woman Mulder had never seen entered.

"Please tell me you're the physical therapist!"

"I am, Mr. . . ." She looked at her chart. "Mulder? I'm
Valerie. Sorry about the wait. The PT department is ridiculously understaffed
this week. The holidays, you know. Let's get started. Are you in constant
pain?"

"Not really. It kind of aches all the time. Hurts when I move, though."

"Well, I hate that immobilizer they have you in. Doesn't give nearly
enough support. I'll get you a new one. It should lessen the pain when you're
up and walking. That thing you have is fine when you are basically bedridden.
But when you are trying to function at home? It allows far too much jostling.
I need you to stand up for me." Mulder stood up, gingerly as always.

"Okay, this first week, you really don't want to do much of anything
with your shoulder itself. Everything is geared toward maintaining the strength
in the rest of your arm. But it's all going to hurt a little, so don't be
surprised. These are isometric exercises, where you contract your muscles,
but don't stretch them. You can do them standing against a wall, sitting
against a table, or against another person--provided the person is strong
enough to withstand your push." She led him to the wall, and put his
face to it so he was practically hitting it with his nose. Mulder was trying
not to laugh. "I know it looks ridiculous, but it is important. You
have to stand this close because we don't want your arm to actually _move_.
For this one, just bend your wrist back, push the back of your hand into
the wall, and hold it for five seconds." Mulder did as he was told,
and winced a little. "Felt that, didn't you? Surprise surprise!"
The PT was smiling. "Now, do the same thing, this time pushing your
elbow into the wall. This one will probably hurt more--the muscles are closer
to the shoulder. Hold for five seconds."

Mulder did it, and this one _did_ hurt, and he leaned his head against
the wall. "Ouch!"

"Yup. Told you. Don't rest your forehead against the wall. It's
vital to retain good posture while you recover. Stand up straight."
Mulder did, and she turned him around so his left side was against the wall.
"Now push your elbow away from your body and into the wall and hold
for five."

Mulder did, and had a new pained expression for each second, but made
no sound. "Who knew standing still could hurt so much!"

The physical therapist giggled. "Okay, the last isometric is hard
to do against a wall in an immobilizer. A table or another person is better."
She looked at Scully. "You want to help him with this one?"

Scully jumped up from the chair and was at their side immediately. "Of
course!" The PT took Scully's left hand and put it against Mulder's,
palm-to-palm. "Okay, Mr. Mulder, push into her hand. And you,"
she looked at Scully, "provide enough resistance so his arm doesn't
move." Mulder pushed, and Scully pushed back. The two agents smiled
at each other, trying not to giggle at how silly it looked, for the five
seconds until the PT told them to break.

"Okay, Mr. Mulder, that was the easy stuff. You should do those,
two sets of each, at least three times a day. Do them as often as you want
to, though, as long as you don't move your shoulder. Now I need you back
on the bed." Mulder sat back, and the therapist lowered the bed until
Mulder was lying flat. It hurt.

"I hope you have a lot of pillows at home, Mr. Mulder. For the next
couple of weeks you're going to want to be semi-reclined while you are sleeping.
A 40- to 45-degree angle is most comfortable. As you can feel right now,
lying flat is not going to be an option. But the only way to do this without
putting any pressure on your shoulder is to have you lie down. When you
are home, lie on the floor. The hard surface will be more comfortable for
your shoulder." She unstrapped his arm from the immobilizer. "Okay,
simple. Bend and unbend your elbow."

Mulder did it, repeatedly. "Why can't I do this sitting in a chair
or standing up?"

"Because you have to release your arm from the immobilizer, and
your shoulder would have to support the weight of your arm while it moves.
That's a huge no-no right now. When you are lying down there is no pressure
on the shoulder joint at all. This exercise is merely to keep your elbow
joint functioning. Has anyone told you to make sure to keep your armpit
and the inside of your elbow clean and dry?"

"Uhhh, no."

"Well, you can sweat in there, and get a nasty rash. When you are
doing this exercise and the immobilizer is off--again, three times a day--have
a damp washcloth and some powder with you. Wash the crook of your elbow,
and your armpit. Put some talcum powder on a gauze pad or a handkerchief,
and slide it up in your armpit, and leave it there. Change it when you do
the exercises the next time. And put some powder in the crook of your elbow,
too. That should prevent a problem." She reattached the immobilizer
and raised the head of the bed again.

"Okay, last one. And this is the painful one. The one where your
shoulder does move. We'll do it here once, but give yourself another day
or two at home before you start it there. Let your shoulder settle down
a bit more. Stand up." The therapist turned to Scully. "He's going
to need help with this one, too, so watch what I'm doing." She bent
Mulder slightly at the waist, and detached Mulder's arm from his immobilizer,
but supported it fully with her hands at first. She looked at Scully. "This
is the most important part here. _You_ support the arm. Don't have him do
it." She straightened his elbow, still supporting his upper arm with
her hands. "Okay, Mr. Mulder, I'm going to let go. Just let your arm
hang, swinging like a pendulum, until you can't stand it any longer--tell
me when you've had enough." She turned to Scully again. "When
he tells you, take his arm at the elbow, and hold it up--so his shoulder
isn't bearing weight any more. This is the first step toward loosening the
joint, and regaining the range of motion. Right now it will probably barely
move, but as it heals, you'll notice that it will start to swing more on
it's own."

She let go, and Mulder's arm just hung there, barely moving--certainly
not swinging. He grasped the bed with his right hand, and gritted his teeth,
but didn't say anything. Beads of sweat formed on his brow. But still he
didn't say anything. After 15 seconds that seemed like forever to Mulder,
he'd had enough, and bent his elbow and stood up straight, which sent an
even worse searing pain shooting through his shoulder. The PT grabbed his
arm, taking the weight off the joint, which helped matters considerably.
"What did I say, Mr. Mulder? Tell _me_ when you've had enough. Don't
actually _move_ your shoulder yet." She turned to Scully yet again.
"Don't let him do that."

Scully was shaking her head. "I won't. Mulder, come on, don't be
a pain."

"I didn't move my shoulder. I just stood up!"

The therapist smiled. "And you don't think that motion involves
shoulder muscles? Guess again. And you _did_ move your upper arm backwards.
I saw you. That's moving your shoulder, too." She pulled a small container
of powder from her pocket, and a gauze pad. She put the pad down on the
bed, sprinkled powder on it, and slid it into his armpit before reattaching
the immobilizer. She was doing this when Dr. Sumner came in.

"Well, at last! Hiya, Valerie. Is Mulder trained and ready to go?
He looked at Mulder's face, and saw the pain etched there. "Oooh, you
showed him the pendulums, didn't you."

"Yup. He's almost set. I want to get him a new immobilizer, though.
One with more support than this one. I'll be right back." And she left.

"I've signed all your paperwork, Mulder. You can get out of here
as soon as Valerie gets back. You have an appointment at my office on the
morning of January 3. Take it easy until then, okay? Just rest and heal,
and do those piddly little exercises Valerie showed you. I know how stupid
they look, but you have no idea what a nightmare you can create for yourself
if you don't keep the rest of your arm toned while your shoulder heals.
If you feel up to it, take a walk, or ride a stationary bike without holding
the handles, for general fitness. But really, rest is the key. You'll have
Demerol this week--maybe we'll move you to something less potent next week--and
that ought to help you rest. Like I told you earlier, _take_the_pills_like_clockwork_.
I'm even talking about setting an alarm to take them in the middle of the
night. I know what I'm talking about here. You do _not_ want to let the
drugs wear off and have to start over. I've also left a prescription for
antibiotics, as a precaution. Take them until they run out, will you? I
know no one ever does, but humor me, okay?"

Scully laughed. "He will. I'll make sure of it. What about bathing,
showering?"

"Baths this week. I don't want you supporting the weight of your
arm while standing in a shower right now." He turned to Scully. "You're
a doctor, you can change his dressing. Just get some waterproof bandages
and tape at the drug store, and wrap the incision up good so it doesn't
get wet." He then turned to Mulder. "And YOU--be careful getting
in and out of the tub. TWICE I have had patients fall while trying to get
out of a tub with one hand. Don't try to pull yourself up with your right
hand. Your whole upper body is weak right now. Get on your knees, and stand
up that way. Understood?"

"Why can't I just shower with a sling on? I have a collection of
them by now. I can get one wet."

"Nope. Too tempting to move it. Next week, we'll see. Hopefully
the staples will come out then, and you'll be able to shower then. Any other
questions?"

Mulder looked at his partner. "Not from me. Scully?"

"No, I think I've got it all."

The doctor clapped his two hands together. "Good, then. I'll send
the discharge nurse in so you can sign your life away. and get out of here.
If you have any questions or problems in the next six days, call my office.
They or the service will know where to reach me. Otherwise I'll see you
next Thursday." He pointed at Mulder's shoulder. "Take care of
that, you hear?"

"Aye aye, sir." Mulder saluted the doctor, who smiled, and
waved, and was gone.

"I like him, Mulder. How'd you find him?"

"He's done work on other agents, apparently. Skinner put me on to
him. Yeah, he's all right." The nurse entered with a pile of papers
for Mulder to sign. He was given prescriptions, and gauze bandages, and
tape, and instructions. He handed it all to Scully. "Well, since you
insist on playing nursemaid, you can take care of all this junk, Scully!"
She pocketed the prescriptions, and put the rest in a bag.

Valerie came in then, with a much more elaborate immobilizer in her hand.
"Where's your shirt, Mr. Mulder?"

"Umm, I don't have one. Just a T-shirt, which isn't exactly going
to work."

"Well, if you don't care about stretching it out. just put your
right arm through, and pull it over your left. It _is_ December out there!"
Scully gave Mulder another 'I told you so' look.

The new immobilizer was in two pieces. She turned to Scully. "He's
not going to be able to put this on himself, so watch closely." She
removed the old immobilizer, and supported his arm with her hand. The new
contraption involved a sling with holes in it, and she gently placed Mulder's
left forearm in the sling, put the strap around his neck, and tightened
it so that Mulder's elbow was at a 90-degree angle. The next piece went
around Mulder's torso, on top of his upper arm, and fastened with Velcro.
It fastened Mulder's upper arm to his body completely. There was a loop
hanging down from this part, which she fitted through the holes in the sling,
and attached, again with Velcro. It further supported his forearm, and attached
it firmly to Mulder's body as well.

When she was done, Mulder was thoroughly trussed. "Valerie, was
it? Valerie, is all this truly necessary? I was doing just fine with that
low-maintenance version there."

"Oh, just you wait until you are out of bed all day, Mr. Mulder.
You'll be glad you have this much support." She reached into the pocket
of her scrub jacket, and pulled out a rubber ball. "A couple more things.
Take this ball, and squeeze it in your left hand several hundred times a
day. Squeeze it all day if you want to. That helps maintain muscle tone,
too. And flex your neck muscles a lot. Your neck can get very stiff after
this surgery, so try to keep it limber." She took his head in her hands,
and bent his neck from side to side.

When she bent it to Mulder's right, stretching the muscles on the left
side of his neck, he flinched from the pain. "Christ, isn't there anything
I can do that doesn't hurt my shoulder?"

"Not much, Mr. Mulder. There's a lot going on in your shoulder,
and it's all attached to everything else. Your arm, your neck, your back.
Your therapy has to pay attention to all these parts while you recover."
By now she was bending his head back. "When you do this direction,
thrust your jaw up toward the ceiling. That will stretch your muscles. Doing
this will become second nature to you--you'll probably feel yourself getting
a stiff neck, and these motions will help out. But try to do them before
you feel it. Prevention is the best cure, you know. Any questions?"

"Just one. Is that _all_? Can I go home now?"

Valerie laughed. "That's all, Mr. Mulder. The therapists at Dr.
Sumner's office are tops. I know you'll be in good hands. Take care of yourself."
She shook Mulder's hand, and was gone.

"FINALLY. Scully, get me out of here!"

"First let's ruin your shirt." She took it from his duffel
bag, and pulled it over his head. He put his right arm through the proper
hole, and Scully pulled it down over his left. It looked silly.

"God, Scully, I look like Lenny with my own little Leonard attached
to my chest!"

"Oh, don't remind me of that. You look fine. I'm going to go get
a wheelchair." He started to protest, but she shut him up with an index
finger pointed directly at him. "Don't say it, Mulder. I _know_ it's
a stupid rule. But it's the rule just the same. I'll be right back."

She was back in a second with a wheelchair and an orderly to push it.
Scully helped Mulder put his right arm through the sleeve of his leather
coat, and draped the left sleeve over his shoulder. He climbed in the chair,
the bag with his few possessions was placed on his lap, and he said good-bye
to room 1013. In the elevator Mulder turned his attention to his partner.
"I'm only staying with you mom for a couple of days, Scully."

"At least until January 3, Mulder. You heard what everyone just
said to you. Look at yourself. You can't get that thing on and off by yourself.
You can't change your dressing by yourself. Hell, you can't even dress yourself!"

"Don't remind me, Scully. This is all Skinner's fault. He'd better
give me a wide berth when I'm back at the office."

"Don't start that again, Mulder." The elevator reached the
ground floor, and the doors opened. And there was Assistant Director Walter
Skinner, waiting to get in. The three FBI agents looked at each other, surprised.
Scully was the first to speak.

"Sir! What are you doing here?"

"I was concerned that Mulder hadn't been released yet. I thought
I'd drop by to see what the holdup was."

"It was basically just paperwork, sir. I'm taking Mulder to my mom's
house to recuperate."

"That sounds like a wise idea." The AD turned his attention
to the man in the chair, who had steeled his jaw, but said nothing. "Agent
Mulder. You don't look so bad. I trust you are doing well?"

"Well, sir, I cannot move. I'm in constant, excruciating pain. I'm
looking at months of painful therapy. But if you say I am doing well, I
guess I am doing well. After all, you seem to think you know best."

Scully was mortified. "MULDER!"

"That's all right, Agent Scully. I probably deserved that. Agent
Mulder, I was doing my job. I'm sorry you are suffering because of it, but
I won't apologize for making you do this. I don't expect you to thank me,
but some day in the future, when you take a spill and your arm stays in
the socket, remember this conversation. I look forward to the day you can
return to work. Let me know when that is. Good day, agents." And Skinner
turned and walked away.

"Mulder, what are you _doing_? That was uncalled for!"

Mulder was still bristling. "Was it? You might not be saying that
if you were the one going through this."

"Oh, grow up, Mulder!" By now they were at her car, and Mulder
carefully climbed into the front seat.

Scully climbed in next to her partner. "I told you before, Skinner
was worried about you--in his own way. He came to see how you _are_, Mulder.
I think he probably feels bad enough about this without you making it worse."

"So I'm supposed to feel bad for him? Sorry, partner, that's not
going to happen. I'm way ahead of him in the 'deserving of sympathy' department,
don't you think?"

Scully couldn't help but smile. "Okay, you win that one. I'll take
you to mom's and then head back into town to get your stuff and fill your
prescriptions."

"No, Scully, I can come with you. I want to go up to my apartment
anyway."

"Mulder, you've been lying around for the better part of three days
now. You've had _surgery_. You're tired. You shouldn't be running around
the minute you get out of the hospital."

"Come on, Scully, I'm a pro at getting out of the hospital. I know
what I can and can't do. I want to check on my fish."

"All right. But you have to stay in the car at the drug store."

"Deal."

* * * * *

Mulder leaned against the wall by his door as Scully tried to open it
with her key. "It's been sticking. Jiggle the knob while you turn the
key." She did, and she chuckled as the door opened. "What's funny?"

"Nothing, Mulder. I was just trying to imagine you doing that with
one hand."

"All right, that's enough of the I-told-you-so's. I admit it. I'd
have been in big trouble here on my own, okay? Can we let it go now?"

"Deal. Let's get your stuff." Scully went into the bedroom,
and pulled Mulder's suitcase from its place under the bed. She went to the
closet, and Mulder went to the dresser. In no time his clothes were packed.
Scully went into the bathroom. "Do you have an electric razor, Mulder?"

"No, why?"

"It would be easier, that's all. Maybe we should get you one."

"I hate those things, Scully. I shaved at the hospital. I'll shave
at your mom's. The old fashioned way."

Scully returned with a handful of toiletries, and tossed them in the
bag. Mulder just watched her. "How do you know what to pack for me,
Scully?"

"Five-plus years of traveling with you, Mulder. You don't think
I know what you pack by now?"

"I don't know what _you_ pack, Scully."

"I bet you do, Mulder. If you had to, you could. Anything in your
fridge that might spoil?" She went to the kitchen.

"I don't think so." Mulder was heading toward his fish tank.
"Damn. Lost one. Every time I go away for a night a fish goes belly-up
on me. What's that all about?"

"They must miss you, Mulder. I'll drop in and feed them every couple
of days. I'll try to keep you from losing another. They're stupid pets,
though. I don't know why you bother." Scully fished the dead thing
out of the tank, and rushed it into the bathroom. Mulder was feeding the
survivors when he heard the telltale sound of the flush.

"Hey Mulder, why don't we get you into a real shirt here. You really
do look ridiculous in that T-shirt."

"I thought you said I looked fine!"

"I lied!" They headed into the bedroom, and she pulled one
of Mulder's plaid button-front shirts from his suitcase while he shimmied
out of the T-shirt. "Shit!"

"Mulder, let me do that!" The T-shirt was sliding off Mulder's
right arm. "Too late!" His tone was triumphant, but his face was
etched with pain. The two agents just looked at each other, and at the immobilizer,
at first unsure of how to proceed. Mulder got started by releasing the Velcro
loop holding his forearm in place.

"Okay, Mulder, I think this will work if you hold your left arm
with your right. We just don't want it hanging, right?" She detached
the immobilizer, slid off the sling, and Mulder held his arm still. Scully
gingerly pulled the left sleeve onto his left arm, while Mulder moved his
grip to accommodate the fabric. He was biting his lower lip.

"It hurts, doesn't it."

"S'alright, Scully. It hurts, but it's gonna hurt. I have to get
used to it." Scully took his injured arm in her right hand, so Mulder
could put his right arm in the sleeve. They managed to get it buttoned,
keeping his left arm supported the whole time, and got the immobilizer back
on. "We're going to have to work on that process, Scully. There has
to be a better way."

Scully grinned. "We'll be pros in no time, I suspect, Mulder!"
She grabbed all the pillows off Mulder's bed. "I don't know how many
extras mom has--remember what the PT said about sleeping sitting up?"

"Not really. Glad you were listening, though."

Scully could barely carry everything, but she refused to let Mulder carry
so much as a pillow.

* * * * *

When Scully returned to the car with her bag full of supplies from the
pharmacy, she found Mulder dozing in the front seat. He woke with a start
when she opened the door.

"I told you you'd tire easily. Let's get you home."

"It's the drugs, Scully. I'm fine."

"Sure you are. We'll be at mom's in a minute."

* * * * *

Margaret Scully came out the front door to greet the car the second it
drove up. Mulder knew she must have been waiting for them. He took a deep
breath, looked over at Scully, opened the door, and gingerly stood up, straight
into Mrs. Scully's embrace.

"Oh, Fox, sweetheart! Look at you! How do you feel?"

"I'm okay, Mrs. Scully. More of a nuisance than anything."

"He's lying, mom. Don't squeeze him too tight. It hurts."

"Not true. You diminutive Scully women barely reach my shoulder.
Doesn't hurt at all."

Mrs. Scully laughed, put her arm around his waist, and led him to the
door. "Let's get you inside. Dana, leave those things. I'll send Bill
out for them later." Scully grabbed the pillows and the supplies, but
left the suitcase, and followed them in.

The sight inside Maggie's house took Mulder's breath away. He felt like
he'd walked into the middle of a Currier & Ives lithograph. There were
pine boughs over every doorway and on every railing. The place was awash
in red ribbons and holiday cheer. Mulder looked into the living room. The
fireplace was decked with a stocking for each member of the family, and
next to it was the most beautiful Christmas tree he had ever seen. Eight
feet tall, and every inch covered with sparkling, one-of-a-kind ornaments.
"Oh my God, this is incredible. It's like a greeting card."

Margaret laughed again. "I know. The kids tease me for going overboard
every year, but I can't help myself. I'm a sucker for this time of year.
Are you hungry, Fox? Tara and Bill are in the kitchen."

Bill. Shit. "No, Mrs. Scully" she cut him off.

"Please, Fox, for the millionth time, PLEASE call me Maggie!"

"Sorry. No, I'm not really hungry. I'm kind of wiped out."

Scully put down the parcels. "Mulder, you need to take your antibiotic.
You need to put something in your stomach."

"Dinner's in the oven, Dana. Maybe it can wait half an hour or so?"
Scully nodded. "We're going to put you in Melissa's room this time,
Fox, if that's okay. It's right next door to Dana's, and closest to the
bathroom."

In the past Mulder had stayed in Bill's old room. He wondered if Bill
knew that. "Sure, Mrs.... Maggie. That's fine."

"Do you want to lay down until dinner, Mulder, or just hang out
in the living room? You should get off your feet." Scully looked down
the hall and saw her sister-in-law looking out, holding Matthew. "There's
the little guy! Come here, Matthew!"

Tara put the baby down, and he toddled down the hall into Dana's arms.
Mulder was dumbfounded. The last time he'd seen Matthew Scully he'd been
a tiny infant. Now he was a tiny boy, with Dana's clear blue eyes and red
hair. He looked more like Dana's child than Tara's. It was uncanny. He peeled
his eyes from the child and saw that Tara had followed the baby down the
hall. He smiled shyly at her. "Hi, Tara. Nice to see you again. Your
little guy's adorable."

"Hi Fox, umm, Mulder." She never knew what to call him. "Thanks.
Merry Christmas. How do you feel?"

"Better, thanks. Glad to be out of the hospital."

"I can imagine! We're glad you decided to come." She said the
right things, anyway. It wasn't lost on Mulder that he had been in the house
for almost 10 minutes, and Bill had yet to show his face.

Apparently, it wasn't lost on Margaret, either. "BILL!!"

Bill Scully loped down the hallway from the kitchen, to join the family
in the foyer. Instinctively, Mulder stood up as straight as he could. He
looked his nemesis in the eye, and offered his right hand. "Hi Bill.
Merry Christmas. Thanks for having me."

"It's not my house. Look at that thing. That looks like a bitch."
He pointed at the sling, and shook Mulder's hand--maybe a little too hard.

"Bill, could you go out to Dana's car, get Fox's bag out of the
back, and bring it up to Melissa's room? Thanks, sweetie."

Bill opened the front door, and Mulder was sure he caught the man stealing
a disgusted glance back toward him before he closed it.

"If it's all right, Maggie, I think I'd like to lie down for a bit."

"Of course, honey. Let's get you settled in."

Scully handed Matthew back to his mother, picked up the things she had
dropped, and followed Mulder up the stairs.

Margaret paused slightly the second she stepped over the threshold into
Melissa's room. Mulder saw her physically shake herself back to attention.
She took the pillows from Scully, and set herself to forming a mountain
of them on the bed.

Mulder realized that in all the times he had been in this house, he had
never seen Melissa's room; the door was always closed. It was easy to tell
it was hers. There was an incense burner on the desk. There were crystals
hanging in the window. The bed was covered in an India-print cotton throw.
Everything about it reminded him of the woman he had barely gotten a chance
to know, and she'd died years ago. He felt Scully's breath on his neck as
she leaned up to whisper in his ear. "Mom refuses to change this room.
Sorry."

He whispered back. "It's all right. Really. I understand."

"I figured you would."

Bill entered with the suitcase, and dropped it at Mulder's feet. "I'll
be downstairs." He was gone as soon as he arrived.

"Come on, Fox, see if this is comfortable." Margaret had turned
down the bed, and was patting the mattress.

"I'm sure it's fine. Please promise you won't dote on me. I don't
want to get in the way."

"It's not called doting, Fox. It's called mothering, and it's in
the blood. I can't help myself. You get yourself comfortable. We'll call
you when dinner is ready." She headed toward the door. "Come on,
Dana."

"I'll be right there mom." Scully watched her mother leave,
and turned to her partner. "You okay?"

"I'm okay Scully. You know I hate this, though."

"I know. Make the best of it, okay? It will be fine. You'll see.
You can take your antibiotic later, but don't forget what Dr. Sumner said
about not letting the pain pills wear off." She handed him two pills,
and went in to the bathroom. She returned with a glass of water, and Mulder
took his pills. "Get some rest, Mulder."

She left, and Mulder eased himself onto the bed, kicked off his shoes,
and laid back on the pile of pillows. It wasn't too bad. He was asleep in
about two minutes.

* * * * *

For a second Mulder didn't know where he was. Nothing was familiar. Then
he remembered. He turned his head to look for the clock, and sat up quickly
when he saw that it said 8:22. His half hour of rest before dinner had stretched
into over two and a half. He ached, he was starving, and he really had to
take a piss, so he eased himself off the bed. Every move he made was done
gingerly, trying--usually in vain--to avoid sending shooting pains though
his shoulder. He got up, and found himself contemplating a button-fly and
only one hand. Shit. The prospect of calling Scully so she could do up his
pants was not something he relished. Instead he endured the pain of lifting
his suitcase onto the bed, and grabbed a pair of sweat pants before he made
his way into the bathroom. It took him far too long, but he managed to make
the switch, and do his business.

He moved down the front stairs warily. No one was in the living room,
but the tree was lit. Mulder wasn't into the trappings of the season at
_all_, but even he could not help but be drawn in. He just stood in the
middle of the room, mesmerized by the tree.

"Hey sleepyhead. Pretty incredible, isn't it." Scully startled
him.

He turned to look at her. "Yeah, it is. We never had anything like
that when I was growing up. Just a scrawny six-footer with about ten ornaments
when I was little. Then, when I got older--nothing."

"That's too bad, Mulder. Mom can tell you the story behind every
single ornament on that tree. And she probably will, so be warned. Those
things are really important to her." Scully had walked up beside Mulder.
She reached up and fixed his sleep-mussed hair. "You feeling better?"

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

"You needed the sleep, Mulder. Come on. Mom's keeping a plate warm
for you in the kitchen."

* * * * *

After he'd finished eating, Scully twice suggested that Mulder join Bill
in the study, where he was watching basketball. Twice Mulder declined. Not
only did he want to avoid Bill as much as he could, but he found that he
was enjoying the company of the three Scully women. He was sitting quietly
for the most part, just enjoying their easy banter--their comfort with each
other. It was something he never remembered in his own home. At least not
since he was twelve.

"How about some coffee?" Maggie pushed back from the kitchen
table and got up. As she walked past Mulder she affectionately ran her hand
down the back of his hair. He couldn't remember his own mom ever doing that.

"No caffeine for Mulder, mom. Not with the medications he's taking."
She looked at her watch. "Speaking of which, time for a pill!"
She got up and bolted up the stairs.

Mulder looked at Tara. "She's worse than my mom!" Tara laughed.
"From what she tells me, you need someone to look out for you!"

Mulder raised his eyebrows. "What exactly has she been _telling_
you? It's all lies." Tara laughed again.

* * * * *

Scully caught him looking at his watch. She also saw him yawning. The
Demerol was taking effect, and her partner was getting more tired by the
minute. When he leaned forward and practically laid his head on the kitchen
table, it became apparent to Scully that Mulder was not going to go to bed
of his own accord. Probably because it was only 10:30--far too early for
him. She faked an exaggerated yawn, and stretched her arms over her head.

"Wow, you know, I'm beat. It's been a long day. I'm gonna turn in."
She got up and spoke over her shoulder as she started to climb the back
stairs. "You coming, Mulder?"

He looked at her, and then back at the women still at the table. "Yeah,
I guess so." He stood up slowly. "Good night, ladies."

"Goodnight, sweetheart. We'll see you in the morning." Mulder
liked it when Maggie called him that. He followed his partner up the stairs.

Tara looked at he mother-in-law. "You know, they're more like a
married couple than a lot of married couples I know!"

"I know, dear." Maggie smiled.

* * * * *

When Mulder got to his room Scully was looking in his suitcase. "We
forgot to pack pajamas, Mulder."

"No we didn't. I don't own any."

"Well, you can't wear your normal sleeping attire--or lack thereof--around
here. I think I know what we can do." She left the room, and returned
a few minutes later with some pajamas. "They'll be too big, but they're
drawstring." She helped him through the ordeal of changing shirts.

"You know, Scully, I think I'd prefer to wear the same clothes for
the next two weeks. This is too much of a pain in the ass--AND the shoulder."

"It'll get better. Wait and see."

Mulder went into the bathroom to finish changing and brush his teeth.
When he came back Scully was sitting on the bed, fiddling with the alarm
clock. "What are you doing?"

"Setting your alarm for two, when you need to take your Demerol
again. Remember what the doctor said!"

"Yeah, yeah, I remember." Scully went to the bathroom, came
back with a glass of water, and left two pills on the table with the glass.
"Get out of here, Scully, I'm beat."

"Sleep well, Mulder. Good night." As soon as she closed the
door, Mulder turned off the light--and the alarm clock.

* * * * *

In his dream, a rock landed next to him, and shook the ground. Then something
shook him. Then he heard a voice. But it wasn't a dream.

"Mulder? Mulder, come on. Wake up."

"Huh? Whaaa?"

"You didn't take your pills, Mulder. It's 2:30. You're overdue."

In the faint moonlight from the window Scully's form sitting next to
him on the bed slowly came into focus. Her hair was a mess. She was half
asleep. "_What_? Scully, I'm asleep. Leave me alone."

"Give me a break, Mulder, Take the damn pills. If you don't you'll
be awake in agony in an hour." She was holding the pills over his mouth.
He opened it, and she dropped them in. He took the glass and swallowed a
gulp of water.

"_Now_ will you leave me alone?"

"I left two more, and set the alarm for six-thirty. Promise me you'll
take these on your own, okay?"

"Yeah, all right. I promise. Just leave me alone."

She got up and went to the door. "Go back to sleep." And she
was gone.

Mulder shifted slightly. Christ, she was a pain.

* * * * *

When the 6:30 pill alarm went off, Mulder had been awake for a while.
He turned it off, and took his pills. But going back to sleep was not an
option. He felt like he'd been doing nothing but sleeping for days. He got
up.

All was quiet in the hallway. He made his way downstairs by the back
way, into the kitchen. He noticed that his shoulder was feeling a bit better.
He could walk without constant discomfort. That was something, anyway. He
got himself a glass, and poured some orange juice.

He was putting the carton away in the refrigerator when a voice made
him jump. "Where did you get those?"

Mulder spun around, and bumped his shoulder into the opened door, sending
a searing pain through him. He gasped. "Fuck!" So much for feeling
better.

"Nice language. Where'd you get those?"

"Get _what_, Bill?" Mulder was gingerly rubbing his shoulder.

"Those are my father's pajamas."

Mulder had never even thought about where Scully had gotten them the
night before. "Your sister gave them to me. I didn't have any of my
own."

"This is rich. I don't know how you do it, Mulder, getting these
women to do your bidding. And now you're even wearing dad's things. You
are just determined to insinuate yourself into every aspect of my family,
aren't you?"

Mulder looked Bill square in the eye. "Look, Bill, I probably don't
want to be here more than you don't _want_ me here. But I'm here. Can we
please wave white flags and call a cease fire? Just for a few days? For
your mom's sake? For Dana's?"

"Did I just hear my name?" Dana was still wiping sleep from
her eyes. "Mornin' guys." Bill practically pushed Dana out of
the way as he stormed up the stairs. Dana was stunned. "What was that
about, Mulder?"

"I don't know. Seems he didn't like my attire."

"Oh, God, I didn't think of that. Sorry Mulder. He'll get over it."

"Don't worry about it. Did I dream it, or were you in my room last
night?"

"Yup, that was me. Did I dream it, or did you turn off that alarm?"

"I was tired. I wanted to sleep for a change."

"I don't know what's wrong with you. You think excruciating pain
is preferable to losing a couple of minute's sleep while you took a pill?
Because excruciating pain is what you'd get. What happened to being responsible
for yourself?" She looked at the kitchen clock. "You took your
pills at 6:30, I hope?"

"Yes, mom. You really are a nag, Scully. I hate the way those pills
make me feel. All I want to do is sleep."

"That's part of the _point_, Mulder. Was I the only one present
when the doctor was talking to you yesterday? He told you to rest."

"I want to get dressed." Mulder swept past Scully and went
upstairs. Scully sighed and followed.

* * * * *


Mulder passed most of his first full day in the bosom of Scully's family
by reading six month's worth of TIME magazines in the living room. Bill
had staked out the TV in the study, and Mulder knew it was best to steer
clear. He was surprised that Scully wasn't suspicious, considering how attached
he is to television. But she hadn't said a word. She'd pretty much left
him alone, just showing up when he needed her--to help him dress, to help
him with his ridiculous exercises, to remind him (unnecessarily, after this
morning's lecture) to take his pills. Besides, he found himself drawn to
the festive room. It was warm and welcoming. It was homey. He was half-reading
a story about flooding in the plains states.

"Are you okay, honey? You've been awfully quiet today."

"Sure, Mrs...Maggie. I'm fine. Just reading."

"Old news? I really should throw those out more often." Mulder
looked at the date on the issue for the first time. September. He smiled.
"Why don't you join us out back? I don't want you to think you aren't
welcome with the rest of the family."

"Oh, no, that's not it. I like it in here. It's quiet."

"It is that. I don't use this room at all any more. Just on holidays.
I sit here and see the kids when they were little, pulling presents from
under the tree. It was a madhouse. It was wonderful."

Mulder smiled rather wistfully. "I bet. Scu...Dana says that every
ornament on that tree tells a story."

"Oh, she's right. Be careful, or I'll start telling you all about
them!"

"I'd like to hear." He got up and walked to the tree, and gently
touched a delicate sea shell that had been painted with glitter and stuffed
with tinsel. "Who made this one?"

Maggie got up and joined him at the tree. "Guess."

"Well, it wasn't a boy, that's for sure. I'll go with Dana."

"Nope, wrong on both counts! Bill made that when he was six. Dana
made . . ." she pointed to a half walnut shell with a tiny plastic
deer sitting on a cloud of cotton in it "this one. When she was eight.
And these . . ." she pointed to several very old crocheted snowflakes
"were made by my grandmother. In Ireland." She pointed to a plaster
circle with a tiny handprint in it. "That's Matthew. Last Christmas."
Then she pointed to a small ceramic elephant painted brightly and decorated
with tiny mirrors. "Melissa brought me that from India. She went there
on vacation the spring before. . . . " She didn't finish. She didn't
need to.

"Come into the kitchen, Fox. You can help with dinner."

Mulder laughed incredulously. "Oh yeah? How can I do that?"

"By keeping me company. Do you eat pork?"

"I'll eat anything you cook."

Maggie took Mulder's right hand, and led him into the kitchen.

* * * * *

Dinner posed the first time since the early morning that Mulder and Bill
were in the same room. Mulder, for his part, went out of his way to be friendly.
And Bill remained civil--for a time. Eventually Tara turned the conversation
turned to Mulder's injury. "So, Mulder, what did you do to your shoulder,
anyway? Why did you need surgery on it now?"

"I dislocated it a few years ago, and then it kept popping out.
The Bureau decided they didn't want that to happen any more, so they made
me get it fixed."

"How many times is too many?"

Fearing he'd lie, Scully answered. "Six times in three years! It
_was_ too many times, Mulder!"

"And the Bureau can _make_ you have surgery?"

"If they think it affects your safety or the safety of your colleagues,
sure." Scully didn't think she was saying anything wrong. Bill saw
it differently.

"So Dana, you mean it isn't enough that this guy leads you into
all sorts of dangerous situations on their own, but he's been risking your
safety because of a bum shoulder, too?" He could barely hide the animosity
in his voice.

"What dangerous situations, Bill? Lest you forget, I'm an FBI agent.
Dangerous situations are in the job description. That has nothing to do
with Mulder."

"Yeah, right. Mom's told us of some of the stuff you've gotten into."

"Admittedly some of the cases we have investigated have been extraordinary.
But if not for those cases, I'd be out there chasing bank robbers and kidnappers.
Personally, I'd rather take my chances with mutants."

"Then there was your cancer."

"Bill, we have no proof that my cancer had anything to do with my
work. And besides, it's gone, remember?"

Mulder wanted to say something, but he didn't know what to say. He was
afraid he's sound like a sap if he tried to defend himself. Besides, Scully
was doing fine without him. He squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, and then
felt Maggie Scully's hand on his knee. She gave him a reassuring squeeze.
He loved this woman.

"Mulder here thought it had something to do with your quest for
little green men, didn't you, Mulder?"

He had to say something now. "Yes, I did. I still do. And I seem
to recall someone giving up. Telling _me_ to give up. Telling me to let
Dana die with dignity. I'm glad I didn't take that advice. Aren't you?"
He squeezed Maggie's hand on his knee, and pushed his chair away from the
table. "Excuse me. I have to take my antibiotic." He walked out,
a small smile playing on his lips. Scully could handle it from here, and
as he reached the stairs he could hear that she was.

* * * * *

Mulder had let the family drama he had caused run its course. He was
back with his pile of TIMEs in the living room. But he wasn't reading. He
was staring blankly at a page, furiously squeezing the exercise ball the
therapist had given him, in an effort to relieve the stress he was feeling
at the moment. It wasn't working. He could hear the sound of a football
game coming from the study. Oh, how he longed to have access to a TV, but
not with _him_ in there. He could also hear the female banter from the kitchen,
as dishes were being washed. He decided to steer clear of all Scullys for
the time being, not sure who would be mad at him for what he had caused
over dinner.

He looked up when he heard a slight noise, and discovered that one Scully
didn't want to steer clear of him. Matthew was standing in the far entryway,
holding the door jamb for dear life, and watching Mulder silently. Mulder
waited for the inevitable adult watching him to appear. He waited. No one.
Matthew toddled into the room, furniture-walking from sofa to coffee table.
He was now in the middle of the room, still studying Mulder, who was watching
him just as intently.

Mulder's experience with small children was limited. But he found them
fascinating, and refreshing. And this particular child's resemblance to
his partner took his breath away every time. The inquisitive, yet amazingly
calm look on this child's face was even Scully. Mulder knew that when Scully
had children, and he was sure that she would be able to one day, they would
look _exactly_ like this.

Mulder passed the rubber ball in his left hand to his right, which he
lowered to the floor. He rolled the ball to the boy, but it careened off
the baby's shoe and rolled to the edge of the stone hearth of the unused
fireplace, where it changed direction and came to a stop just under the
lowest branches of the tree. Matthew giggled, turned, and released his hold
of the table, ready to take the three or four baby steps necessary to reach
the tree without any support. Step one went well, but his balance began
to waver on step two. He swayed a bit, and it was immediately apparent that
he was going to fall. All Mulder could think in that half-second was of
Matthew going head-first into the stone hearth. He leapt from his chair,
instinctively trying to throw both hands out to catch the child, but of
course one was tied down.

"MATTHEW, NO!"

Mulder literally flew across the living room. He was in mid-air when
he got his right arm between the child and the hearth, but not without a
cost. He hit his own head on the stone on the way down, but that was nothing
compared to the unbelievable pain in his left shoulder as he landed with
his full weight coming down right on it.

* * * * *

Scully heard Mulder scream, and was in the doorway before anyone else.
She found Mulder face down on the floor, his right arm wrapped tightly around
Matthew, who was screaming his head off. At first her partner wasn't moving,
but by the time she reached him he was beginning to moan.

"Mulder? What happened? Are you all right?"

Before Mulder could make another sound Bill came charging in. "What
the hell did he do to my son?"

Tara turned and slapped her husband. "That's ENOUGH! _You_ were
supposed to be watching him. He's YOUR SON, for God's sake! How did he get
in here in the first place?" She went into the room and picked up the
baby from the floor. Scully hadn't moved Mulder, but was on her knees by
his side, peering into his face.

"Mulder? Mulder, look at me. Can you hear me?"

"I hear you, Scully. Oh, shit." He was whispering, but he was
coherent. He turned his head to look at her, and that's when she could see
the blood on his forehead.

"Oh, Mulder, you're bleeding!"

Maggie joined her daughter by Mulder's side. "Should I call an ambulance,
Dana?"

"Noooo....." Mulder's reply was more like a wail. "I'll
be all right. Just help me up."

"Slowly, Mulder." She helped him roll onto his back and sit
up, resting his back against the hearth.

The upward motion made Mulder woozy, and he put his only available hand
up to his head and lowered it on to his knees, which he had pulled in close
to his body. "Ohh, shit."

Margaret had left and returned with a wet washcloth, which Scully pressed
onto the cut on his head, just above his hairline on the right side of his
forehead. "Mulder, come on, You hit your head. Look at me. Look me
in the eyes." Mulder did as she asked, but he had to squint. The light
from the hallway was bothersome. "Follow my finger, Mulder." He
was able to do that as well. "Did you lose consciousness at all?"

"I don't think so. Did I?"

"If you did it was only for a second. You seem okay, Mulder, but
we need to look at that cut. What happened?"

"Matthew was about to fall into the hearth. There was no one else
here to catch him, so. . . . He okay?" He and Scully both looked up
to Tara. Matthew was calm now, and sucking on his thumb. Bill was a few
paces behind her, watching everything from the shadows.

"He's fine, Mulder. Thank you SO MUCH. You saved him from splitting
his head open. Instead you hit yours! I'm so sorry!"

"It's all right, Tara. Accidents happen. I'm glad I caught him,
that's all."

"Oh my GOD, Mulder. Look at your arm!" Scully was staring in
disbelief at the left shoulder of Mulder's shirt. The blue plaid was dark
with blood. She started to unbutton the shirt to have a look, but the immobilizer
was in the way. "God DAMN this thing!" The blood stain was growing.
"There's not enough light in here. Can you get up, Mulder?" There
was a tinge of panic in her voice.

"I think so." He tried, and Scully helped, But he couldn't
get enough leverage, and he was too shaky. Before anyone could ask, Bill
stepped forward and lifted Mulder to his feet, and helped him in to the
kitchen, where he was deposited at the table.

"Bill, go get a pillow, will you? Something to support Mulder's
arm on his lap. Mulder, I've got to get this thing off. I need your help.
Mom, hold the cloth on his head. Check and see if it has stopped bleeding
every once in a while." Scully had regained control, and was barking
orders. Mulder was feeling increasingly woozy. He was struggling to stay
with it, and Scully noticed. "Hey, stay with me, partner!"

Maggie was clearly scared. "Are you sure we shouldn't call someone,
honey?"

"Not yet, mom. Let me take a look first."

Bill returned with a pillow, and Scully detached the immobilizer. She
slid the pieces off, and unbuttoned his shirt. She pushed it down his shoulders,
exposing his blood-covered left side. Only Maggie noticed her daughter take
in a deep breath and hold it as she removed the soaked bandage on his incision.

"Oh Mulder. It's ripped wide open! I can't take care of this. We
have to get you to a hospital right now. Bill, upstairs in Mulder's room
is a bag from the pharmacy. There are bandages in there. Bring them to me?
And bring some towels, too." Bill took off. "Tara, in my purse.
A business card for Mulder's doctor. Get it and call. Tell them what happened,
and that we're taking him to Johns Hopkins ER. Mom, can you drive? I want
to keep pressure on the wounds."

"Of course, honey."

Bill returned with the bandages. Scully took a big pile of them, pressed
them firmly into the incision, and attached them with tape. Mulder screamed
in pain. "I'm sorry, Mulder. We've got to stop this bleeding."
She took Bill's hand and pressed it into Mulder's shoulder, continuing the
pressure she had begun. She folded another bandage and taped it to the wound
on his head. She ran to the sink and wet one of the towels, using it to
clean off some of the blood from Mulder's side and face. She lifted his
chine with her finger until their eyes met. "You still with me?"

"Wish I wasn't."

"Don't say that." She pulled the shirt back up on his shoulders,
and put the sling portion of the immobilizer back on, but abandoned the
rest, which was covered in blood. "That will have to do. _Don't_move_your_arm_!
Come on, get up. Let's get you into the car. Bill, help me. Support his
left arm." Scully's elder brother did asked, silently. He hadn't said
a word since he was slapped.

As they got to the door, Tara ran in from the study, Matthew still perched
on her hip. "Dana! The service said they were going to call Dr. Sumner.
Told me to have you call again when you get to the hospital. Hopefully they
will have reached him by then." She handed the card to Dana as they
went out the door.

* * * * *

Margaret Scully readjusted her rear-view mirror so it focused on the
pair in the back seat. Dana was virtually cradling Mulder's head in her
arms. Her right arm was under his head so it could wrap around and apply
pressure to the head wound. Her left hand was pressed firmly into his shoulder.
Mulder was leaning back, slouched down so his head had support. His eyes
were half closed. He was deathly pale. She couldn't tell if he was conscious
or not, he was so still. Her daughter had her lips close to Mulder's ear.
She was whispering to him. Maggie couldn't hear what was being said, but
she could swear that her daughter was singing.

Dana looked up and caught her mother watching. Maggie could see the concern
in her daughter's eyes. "Mom, drive faster. He's going into shock."

* * * * *

Maggie led the ER staff out to her car, which she had stopped haphazardly
in the ambulance bay. "He's in the back seat, with my daughter."

The back door opened and a doctor peered in. "What do we have here?"

"37-year-old otherwise healthy male, underwent surgery for recurrent
traumatic anterior dislocation of the left shoulder three days ago. He fell
and landed on the surgical site, displacing just about every staple on the
incision. In addition he struck his right temple on a stone hearth, suffering
a cut above the hairline, but there was no discernible loss of consciousness,
no nausea, no confusion. He has suffered considerable blood loss, though.
He's in shock." Scully recited the case like a resident on rounds.

"Christ, Scully, you could at least tell them my name." Mulder
was whispering, and he did not open his eyes. But it was the first words
he'd spoken in a while, and Scully smiled.

"His name is Special Agent Fox Mulder."

"Well, let's get him inside and take a look." An orderly opened
the door on Scully's side of the car, and pulled her out, climbing in to
take her place. Scully ran around to the other side of the car and watched
as the orderly outside on that side grasped Mulder's legs and the two men
deftly transferred her partner to the gurney. They pushed through the doors,
with Scully right beside them. She breezed right by her mother without even
seeing her, and went into the treatment room with Mulder.

Scully could never help but marvel and the efficiency of an emergency
room staff. In no time they had cut Mulder's shirt and sling off. administered
oxygen, and hooked him to a heart monitor, which showed a steady rhythm.
His blood pressure was low, though, and the doctor ordered IVs to replace
the volume he had lost. His eyes were checked with a pen light, and his
ears were checked for blood. The doctor was asking Mulder simple questions,
like his name and the date. She could see that Mulder was answering, but
she couldn't hear him.

The doctor obviously was satisfied with the answers, because he turned
his attention from Mulder's head wound to his shoulder. He removed Scully's
pressure bandage. It was still bleeding. "Wow, what a mess. Let's cover
that back up for now." A nurse applied a new pressure bandage, causing
Mulder to squeal in pain. "Sorry about the Mr. Mulder."

Scully watched intently as the doctor checked the pulse in Mulder's arm
at several places all the way down to his fingertips, which he felt and
examined carefully. "Mr. Mulder, I want you to wiggle your fingers
on your hand." He did. "Good. Now flex your wrist." He did.
"Okay, now your elbow. I'll be holding your arm so your shoulder doesn't
move." Mulder straightened and bent his elbow--while wiggling his fingers
_and_ flexing his wrist. Scully couldn't help but smile.

The doctor took out a pin. "Now I am going to poke your arm in various
places. Can you tell me when you feel it?" Mulder said "yes"
through the mask, so it sounded more like a grunt. He felt them all, down
to each individual fingertip. The doctor turned to a colleague. "Distal
pulses good; same for color and temperature. Can't seem to find any nerve
damage. Basically it looks like we have a nasty laceration here. Can't speak
for the surgery, though."

"Mr. Mulder, who is your surgeon?" A nurse was speaking directly
into his ear. Scully could see him trying to answer, but the oxygen mask
was preventing him from being understood. She decided to help him out, and
stepped forward from the place she had taken in the corner.

"Dr. Greg Sumner. We placed a call to him before we left. I was
supposed to call his office back when we got here."

Apparently no one had noticed she was in the room. The doctor in charge
turned to her. "I'm sorry, Ma'am, you can't be in here. You have to
wait outside. We'll come out and talk to you as soon as he's stable."

Mulder obviously heard this, because he became agitated, and tried to
sit up. Scully approached the exam table and put her hands on her partner's
chest, calming him back to the table. "He _is_ stable." She said
that more for Mulder's benefit than anyone else's. "I won't leave.
I am Agent Mulder's partner, his official next of kin, and a medical doctor.
I know exactly what happened to him. I can help. I am not leaving this room."
She dared the doctor to say otherwise with her eyes.

"Well stay out of the way, then. Call his surgeon."

She leaned down to Mulder's ear. "Mulder, I'm not going anywhere.
Hang in there. I'll be right back." His eyes were clearer now, and
he used them to tell her "Okay."

Scully did leave the room to make her call, but she just went right outside
the doors, and she never took her eyes off the man inside. She was immediately
accosted by her mother. "Dana! What's going on? How is he?"

"He'll be fine, mom. They're boosting his blood volume with fluids
to take care of the shock, and now they're checking his shoulder. I have
to call his doctor." She fished the card from her pocket, took out
her cell phone, and dialed.

* * * * *

Scully reentered the exam room. "I just spoke to Mulder's surgeon.
He's on his way here. He's in Alexandria, though, so it will be a while.
He wants you to treat the bleeding, but to wait to do anything else to the
shoulder until he gets here, if you could." She rushed to the table
when she realized that Mulder was moaning. The fluids were reversing the
effects of the shock, meaning the excruciating pain had returned. "Mulder,
it will be all right." She looked up at the staff . "He is on
Demerol for pain."

The doctor looked up from the chart he was writing on "I don't like
his level of alertness. I want to send him up for a head CT. Don't want
to mask the effects of a serious head injury with narcotics. Sorry, he's
gonna have to tough it out for a while." Hearing this, Mulder groaned
even louder. He looked beseechingly at his partner.

"I know, Mulder, it's probably a waste of time. But head wounds
are tricky. The symptoms sometimes don't show up for hours. It's better
to be safe than sorry. I'll see you when you get back." She said those
last words as someone was disconnecting him from the monitor, and he was
wheeled away.

* * * * *

Scully was with her mother, still waiting for Mulder to return from radiology,
when Dr. Sumner arrived. She recognized his voice at the reception desk
asking where his patient was, and bolted up to greet him. "Dr. Sumner!"

"Ahhh, Dr. Scully. How's our boy?"

"Doctor Dudley DoRight here in the ER decided he needed a head CT."
Sumner raised an eyebrow at this. "I know, I know. I wasn't going to
argue with him. Mulder's up there now. "

"What's the doctor's name? I want to talk to him."

"His badge said Martin, but we weren't formally introduced. I was
present during their exam of his arm, though. They didn't go near the shoulder,
of course, but there didn't seem to be any evidence of arterial or nerve
damage. Pulses, temp, response to painful stimuli were all good."

"They'd better have been! If your partner has created new damage,
I'll kill him! Is he still bleeding? What exactly happened?"

"I don't know about the bleeding. I was staying out of the way.
Basically, he took a header into the floor. His head caught the stone hearth,
so the first thing to hit the ground was"

Sumner finished for her. "His left shoulder."

"Right."

"And _why_ was my patient flying through the air with the greatest
of ease? Where was his _right_ arm in all this excitement?"

"His right arm was catching a baby who was about to go head-first
into the stone."

Sumner's expression immediately became more serious. "Oh. Well,
then, I suppose he's forgiven. Let's go find him." As they started
down the hall Sumner looked over his shoulder to Scully. "Good thing
you brought him here. I have privileges here, but not at Baltimore Memorial."

They found Mulder back in the exam room. His head was elevated somewhat,
and the oxygen was gone, although he had the device to measure the oxygen
level of his blood clipped to his right index finger. Someone had taken
a thick ace bandage and loosely wrapped it around his torso, to keep his
left arm from moving.

"What the hell have you been doing, Mulder? I told you to take care
of that!" Sumner was pointing to his shoulder. Mulder tilted his head
a bit, in a sort of shoulderless shrug. "How's your head?"

"It's fine. Doesn't even hurt."

Sumner turned when he heard the door open. The ER doctor entered. "You
Dr. Sumner?"

"I am. And you are?"

"Dr. Martin, I'm the chief resident."

"Well, Dr. Martin, what can you tell me?" The doctor repeated
everything Scully had already reported, adding that the profuse bleeding
had stopped, but it was still oozing a bit.

"You get the results from your CT scan?"

"It was normal."

"I could have told you that." Mulder couldn't resist.

Sumner gave Mulder a reproachful look, and turned his attention back
to the doctor. "Have you treated the shoulder at all?"

"Nope. Just changed the dressing as necessary. Otherwise we left
it for you as you requested, since he's stable."

Sumner lifted the dressing, and touched the wound gently, causing Mulder
to gasp in pain. "What _did_ you do? What a mess." He replaced
the bandage. "When you fell did you feel any instability at all? Did
it 'pop'?"

"No, I don't think so. I don't remember anything like that."

"Does it feel unstable right now?"

"No."

"Good." The orthopedist continued his examination of Mulder's
arm by duplicating all of the resident's earlier tests, and then turned
to the younger doctor. "Have you administered any meds?"

"None. We just perfused with electrolyte solution to treat low BP
and hemorrhagic shock on arrival. But we didn't want to mask any symptoms
until head injury was ruled out."

Sumner turned to Mulder sympathetically. "Ouch. You must be in a
world of hurt, huh?" Mulder just grimaced. "Can we get some IV
Demerol in here? We'll let that take effect before I start poking around
in there. I'll be right back." He gave the dosage to the nurse, and
left the room.

As the doctor left Scully caught her partner grinning a bit. "What?"

"I _told_ him staying with you wouldn't be good for my well-being."

"Hey, that's not fair."

* * * * *

Thanks to the medication Mulder was considerably more at ease. "What
time is it, Scully?"

"Almost 9:30."

"We've been here over two hours already? Is your mom still here?
Send her home."

"She won't go, Mulder. I tried earlier."

"Typical. Then go keep her company. I'm fine."

"And miss finding out what you did to yourself this time? Not a
chance! Mom's resourceful. She'll be fine out there. You really are something
else you know, Mulder."

"How do you mean?"

"Didn't it occur to you that you could do serious damage by going
after Matthew like you did?"

Mulder turned pensive. "No. it didn't. I couldn't just sit there
and watch him hurt himself. I just couldn't." He paused for a minute,
thinking, and then changed his demeanor noticeably, becoming brighter. "It
was reflex, that's all."

"Some reflex. But thanks."

"Don't thank me, Scully."

"Why not? Matthew could have really hurt himself."

Before Mulder could reply, Dr. Sumner reentered the exam room. "Well,
we're in luck, Mulder. It's a miraculously quiet Saturday night in Baltimore.
I've got us an OR."

Both Mulder and Scully were shocked, but it was Mulder who spoke. "An
OR? What for?"

"You ripped the outside to shreds, Mulder. The only way to really
know if you ripped up the inside too is to go in and take a look. Plus we
need to clean the wound and trim the rough edges. It will be a whole lot
easier and faster in the OR."

Scully put her hand on Mulder's good shoulder. "What about an MRI?
Wouldn't that show any internal damage?"

"Sure, it would, except those staples are metal, and I suspect one
or two might have fallen in the incision. Metal staples and _magnetic_ resonance
imaging are not a good mix. The fireworks would be quite impressive! Seriously,
though, nothing beats the naked eye as far as I'm concerned. Nope, it's
best to just go in. Besides, it's already open, so why not."

"So he's obviously not going home tonight."

"No way. If there's no internal damage, and we avoid the post-op
problems of last time, I'll let him go first thing in the morning. But if
I have to redo the repair, we'll be starting from scratch, sorry to say."

"What about using a local?"

Mulder was following the conversation between the two doctors intently.
A local sounded like a great idea to him. Sure beat throwing up from general
anesthesia.

"Naaah, that's no good. We need to evaluate arm strength and whatnot.
A local would deaden his whole arm for hours. Probably keep him here longer
in the long run. Don't worry. We'll make sure he gets in and out of general
anesthesia comfortably this time. We learned our lesson last time!"
He turned his attention to Mulder. "If everything is still intact in
there, you'll be in and out in half an hour. Keep your fingers crossed.
Ohh--and I've ordered a whopper dose of sedative to be given here. I want
you sound asleep _before_ we get to the OR this time!" The doctor winked.

* * * * *

Mulder woke up slowly. He gradually became aware of something in his
throat. Like something was stuck there. He tried swallowing several times,
but it wouldn't go away. He opened his eyes.

"It's an NG tube, Mulder. They put it in so you wouldn't vomit.
Sorry." Scully was standing over her partner, looking down on him.

"So?" It was the only word he could muster at the moment.

"So, no internal damage. They just had to sew you back up, that's
all."

"Good." He took a breath. "So _get_this_tube_out_."
He got the sentence out, and closed his eyes wearily.

Scully smiled. "I'll see what I can do."

* * * * *

"Mr. Mulder?" Mulder opened his eyes. "I'm Dr. Berube,
I'm a surgical resident here. Dr. Sumner went home a while ago, but he left
instructions that we could remove the NG tube when you woke up as long as
you aren't feeling nauseous. You aren't I take it?" Mulder shook his
head. "Okay, this is going to be very unpleasant, I won't kid you.
It's important for you to just relax, okay?" Mulder nodded. A nurse
lowered the bed so it was flat. "Okay, I'm going to pull it out. It's
long, and it will take a few seconds. Just relax and you won't gag."

"Just get it out."

"Okay, here goes." The doctor pulled. He had to release his
grip and move it down closer to Mulder's face and pull again, the tube was
so long. The nurse had a cloth close to Mulder's nose and was wiping the
tube as it came up. Mulder had his eyes squeezed shut. The sensation was
revolting, and he had to concentrate on not gagging. He could feel the movement
of the tube all the way up his esophagus. It was worst in the back of his
throat. He finally breathed again when the end of the tube finally exited
his nose. The doctor was removing his gloves. "There. That wasn't so
bad."

"Speak for yourself." There was animosity in Mulder's eyes
as he looked at the doctor.

The doctor turned to Scully. "Mrs. Mulder," Scully smiled at
the common misconception. "We don't normally do this, but since it
is quiet in here tonight, and since Dr. Sumner plans to release your husband
in" he consulted his watch "about seven hours, we're just going
to keep him here rather than admit him to a room. That's why we put him
in the back corner. Is that okay? If it gets busy we can always move him
later."

"As long as I can stay here, that's fine." The doctor nodded
and left.

Mulder had closed his eyes again, but he had been listening. "Don't
_ever_ let them put one of those things up my nose again, understand, _Mrs._Mulder_?"
He was smiling slightly.

"Shut up, Mulder. Go back to sleep."

"He said seven hours. What time is it?"

"It's a little after one in the morning."

"Christ, Scully, go home. Where's your mom?"

"I got her to leave about an hour ago. She'll be back in the morning."

"You go, too. I won't go anywhere. Promise."

"No, that's all right. I don't mind staying."

"I mind you staying. You gonna watch me sleep? I'll see you in the
morning."

"Okay, Mulder, I'll be back by eight." She touched his arm
lightly and walked away. When she reached the nurse she knew she was out
Mulder's earshot. "I'll be in the waiting room if you need me for anything."

* * * * *

"Morning, Mulder. How are you feeling?"

"Better." He looked at his partner. "Where did you go
last night? Not home, obviously."

"Huh?"

"Blood, Scully. There's blood on your sleeve. That's what you were
wearing yesterday."

"Okay, I'm busted. I slept in the waiting room, on the sofa. This
place has very comfortable furniture. You should get injured out this way
more often!"

"Funny, Scully. Why didn't you go home?"

"Waste of time, Mulder. And I didn't want to bother anyone at home
for a ride in the middle of the night. Mom took the car. It was fine."

"Well, you are little. You'd fit on a sofa." He smiled at her.

"Good morning, folks!" Dr. Sumner had come up behind them.
"How are you doing, Mulder?"

"I'm fine. Do I get to get out of here now?"

"Don't see why not. Hope they told you last night that all my internal
handiwork looked to be untouched. Had to fish the staples out, and close
you up again, but that's about it." He lifted the bandage and had a
look. "You're going to have one very interesting scar. I even stitched
your scalp lac, on the house." He took Mulder's left hand. "You
know the routine by now. Squeeze."

Mulder did, and beat Sumner to the punch. "No tingling, no weakness.
Can I go home now?"

"Yup. All rules remain the same, you hear me? Pain meds, antibiotics,
the works. Oh--but forego the pendulum exercises you were shown until I
see you on Thursday. Bet you need a new immobilizer, huh? I'll make sure
you get one. Call me if you need anything. But try to stay out of trouble
this time, will you? Stay away from small fries and fireplaces, okay?"
The doctor left, waving as he went through the door.

"Mom is bringing you some clean clothes, Mulder. She said she'd
be here by eight. I'll go look for her."

* * * * *

This "homecoming" was considerably different than the one just
two days earlier. Bill Scully actually came out to the car to help Mulder
inside. It made the agent decidedly uncomfortable. "I'm fine, Bill.
Really."

"Look, Mulder. I owe you an apology."

"No, Bill, you _don't_. Forget about it, okay?" The injured
man actually quickened his pace to get away from Bill, and went inside.

Tara was waiting inside the door with Matthew, and when Mulder entered,
she actually leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. "If it isn't my
hero. How are you feeling, Mulder?"

"I'm fine, really I am. It was nothing."

"Ha! Nothing indeed! You're the one with the stitches instead of
my son! That's something. I don't know how we can ever repay you."

"Please, don't talk like that. Don't make a fuss over me. _Please_.
I think I'm going to lie down." He risked the pain and was taking the
stairs two at a time when Scully and Bill entered the house. At the top
of the stairs he stopped and listened.

"Where'd he go, Tara?" Scully sounded confused.

"He just ran upstairs. Said he wanted to lie down." Tara sounded
flustered.

"I tried to apologize, Tara, but he wouldn't have any of it, the
jackass." Bill sounded perturbed.

"Bill, stop. Let's just leave him alone for a little bit. I just
don't think he's used to people making a fuss." Leave it to Scully
to stick up for him.

"Then he should grow up."

Mulder had heard enough. He went into his room and quietly closed the
door.

* * * * *

Mulder feigned fatigue all day, staying in Melissa's room, and only emerged
when Scully entreated him to rejoin the living for lunch. She had been right,
as usual. He could not stomach the undeserved adulation and concern showered
upon him by the family--even by Bill in his own backwards, macho way. He
had begged off dinner, and was perched on the bed, lost in thought, when
he was roused by a knock on the door.

"Yeah?"

"It's mom, Fox. Can I come in?"

Mom? "Sure." She entered with a tray of food.

"I know you must be hungry. I brought you a sandwich."

"I'm not, really. But thanks."

She put the tray down next to the bed. "Are you all right, sweetheart?
We haven't seen you all day."


"I'm fine. Really. Just a little tired."

"It's no wonder, after all you've been through. I was so scared
last night. You looked so sick in the back of the car."

Mulder mustered his best smile. "That? That was nothing. Just ask
Dana!"

Maggie frowned. "Don't make light, Fox. It could have been so much
more serious. I'm thankful it wasn't. And I'm so sorry this happened. Someone
should have been watching Matthew."

"No, please don't say that. It just happened. It's not anyone's
fault." Maggie noticed the tone of his voice. She wasn't sure who he
was trying to convince of this--her, or himself.

"No, probably not. But it could have been avoided easily. Bill is
away so much--he's still a new father in many respects. And Tara usually
watches Matthew like a hawk, so he's not used to keeping an eye on the boy.
It's not really his fault, but he should have been watching."

"I could have called someone the minute I saw Matthew. I didn't,
you know."

"How could you know someone wasn't right behind him? You don't think
it was _your_ fault, do you?"

"I don't know. Maybe a little. Maybe a lot. I dropped my exercise
ball. He was following it when he fell." Mulder couldn't even say that
he had actually rolled it to the baby.

"Oh, Fox, honey. The fact of the matter is that you caught him.
Who knows what could have happened if you hadn't been there. It could have
been awful for the baby--but instead it was awful for _you_." She sat
next to him on the bed, and gently placed her hand on his knee. "We
owe you so much."

Mulder snorted with disgust. "Please, Mrs. Scully, don't ever say
that. I'm the one who owes you--and your daughter. You take me in, you treat
me like family, you take me back after I almost get the baby hurt."

"Fox, stop! You did not almost get the baby hurt! He's my son, and
I love him, but if the accident was anyone's fault, it was Bill's! Matthew
never should have been out of Bill's eyesight for a second! What if he had
fallen in the foyer, on the slate? No one would have been there to catch
him then, and it couldn't have been your fault then. But you were there,
and you risked your own safety simply because Matty _might_ have gotten
hurt! I was there. I saw what you went through. It's amazing. I'll never
forget it. Neither will Tara--or Bill, for that matter."

"I wish you would. I wish you all would."

"Is it so hard for you to let people show their appreciation? Is
that why you are hiding up here?"

There was a knock at the door. "Can I join the party?"

"Come on in, Scully."

She entered. "What's going on?"

Mulder smiled at Maggie. "Nothing. Just a little motherly pep talk."

Scully looked at her mom. "Huh?"

"Nothing, dear. Nothing important. We were just on our way downstairs,
weren't we, Fox? Who wants to play cards? Mulder, we always play cards over
the holidays. It's a tradition. You don't play bridge, by any chance? Bill
hates to play, and he'll be thrilled if you could be our fourth!"

"Someone tried to teach me once, a long time ago. But I'm afraid
I don't remember."

"Oh, it's like riding a bike. It will come right back to you. We're
all terrible players anyway. We just play for the fun. And for the company."

"All right, you go ahead. I'll be right down."

Maggie left, and Scully turned back to her partner when she reached the
door. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, Scully. Really I am. You have a helluva mom."

Scully smiled. "Don't I know it."

* * * * *

The rhythmic creaking of the floorboards outside her door slowly woke
Scully up. She smiled at the childhood memory of knowing when her older
sister was sneaking back in the house past her curfew by those same floorboards.
But rather than one creak, it repeated again and again. Someone was pacing
the halls. She got up, opened the door, and was face-to-face with Mulder
in the dark.

"Mulder, what's wrong?" She whispered so as not to wake the
rest of the family.

"I can't sleep. I can't get comfortable. I don't know."

"Well come in here, so you don't wake everyone up." Mulder
slid into Scully's room. "Sit down." He sat in the overstuffed
chair in the corner, and Scully turned on the floor lamp beside it, making
them both squint. She sat opposite him on the ottoman. "Do you feel
sick?"

"No, not really. Jumpy, sort of." She felt for his pulse, and
he rolled his eyes.

"It's fast. Did you take your last pain meds?"

"Yes."

"Antibiotics?"

"Yessss." He was annoyed. And he swatted her hand away when
she felt his forehead for fever. "Scully, I just can't sleep, okay?
I think I've been cooped up so long I'm jumping out of my skin."

"Okay, Mulder." She got up and climbed back onto her bed, sitting
cross-legged. She pulled her blankets up around her. "You know, mom
told me what you two talked about. You okay with that now?"

"She told you?"

"Hey, know this right now. Mom can not keep a secret. Especially
when she thinks blabbing is the right thing to do."

"And she thought blabbing to you was the right thing to do?"

"Did she ever. She told me before you got downstairs to play cards."

"I wish she'd asked me first."

"Mom knows best. So, are you going to answer my question?"

"What question?"

"Are you okay with the accident not being your fault?"

"I don't know. I suppose."

"It's not always your fault, Mulder. You ever notice that you always
seem ready to take the blame for everything?"

"Blame seems to suit me, Scully. I didn't call for anyone when I
saw Matthew. I didn't go to him immediately. It was my damn exercise ball
that sent him on his trip."

"That's all ridiculous. We all know who should have been watching
the baby, who _should_ have caught him if he fell. We _all_ know, and so
do you. You should be proud of yourself. This time, Mulder, I think you
are just going to have to be the hero. I know it's tough, but you can take
it."

Mulder smiled, sank back into the chair, and lifted his feet onto the
ottoman. "When have you been most proud of yourself, Scully?"

"You mean aside from when I figured out what you were up to this
week?"

* * * * *

Maggie Scully rose early. It was barely 6am. She noticed that Mulder's
door was open, and he wasn't in the room. She checked the bathroom, and
when he wasn't there, looked downstairs. He was nowhere to be found. On
her way back past Dana's door, she quietly opened it and peeked inside.
Dana was sound asleep in bed, and Mulder was sound asleep in the chair,
an afghan tossed carelessly over him. She smiled and closed the door.

* * * * *

"Hey, sleepyheads! Good morning. Happy New Year's Eve!" It
was apparent that Maggie knew where Mulder had spent the night, and the
two FBI agents looked at each other sheepishly.

"Morning mom. We overslept. We were up late. Talking."

"That's okay, darling. There's nothing to do until later. Fox, our
neighbors always have a New Year's Eve open house. We've been going there
to watch the ball drop for _years_. You must join us this year. That's an
order."

Mulder smiled awkwardly. "We'll see."

"Nothing to 'see' Fox Mulder. You're coming. Understand?" For
emphasis she lightly slapped him upside his head before she buried her head
in the pantry. Only Scully saw him wince when she hit the stitches there.
He swallowed the urge to cry out, and walked quickly past the elder Scully,
and into the hallway. Once there, he sank against the wall and gripped his
head.

"He'll come, mom. He'll come." She looked sympathetically at
her partner and mouthed the words "Are you okay?" He frowned,
but nodded his head.

Maggie looked around the kitchen. "Where did Fox go? I wanted to
know what he wants for breakfast."

"Umm, he probably went up to get dressed. I should go see if he
needs help. I'm sure anything for breakfast is fine." She joined Mulder
in the hall and led him upstairs, trying not to laugh.

* * * * *

The afternoon at the Scully house was spent cooking contributions for
the open house next door. Mulder spent the day at the kitchen table, trying
his hardest to either be useful, or stay out of the way. Mostly he stayed
out of the way. When Tara had returned from one of several emergency runs
to the grocery store, she had tentatively presented Mulder with a tabloid
trumpeting that aliens had landed on the Mall in downtown DC. She wasn't
sure he would take it as the joke she meant it to be, but she need not have
worried. Mulder spent much of the day reading aloud from this paper, and
pronouncing which articles were true, and which were fabrications. After
all, as he had reminded them solemnly, he was an expert at these things.

Several times while he was entertaining the women Mulder had glanced
up and caught Scully watching him, with a contented smile on her face. He
liked it when he could make her smile like that.

* * * * *

"I'm glad we brought a dress shirt, Mulder." She was buttoning
it for him.

"Oh, as if it was some accident. You knew about this all the time."

Scully smiled. "I did. The Kleins are great. You'll like them. And
everyone I grew up with will be there. You can get them to tell embarrassing
stories about me!"

"I seriously doubt there are any skeletons in your closet, Scully."

"Well, here's your chance to find out." She had finished reattaching
the immobilizer, and was tightening his tie. "There. You look like
a million bucks."

"A million bucks with a bum arm."

Scully smiled at her partner. "Let's go."

* * * * *

Rather than anyone telling Mulder about Scully's childhood exploits,
the agent found that a sling was an irresistible topic of conversation.
He was explaining what happened to him for the zillionth time, and he couldn't
even use alcohol to dull the tedium. But whenever Scully found his eyes
from across the room, he bravely raised his glass of ginger ale, and smiled
as if he was having a good time.

Finally, he couldn't take it any longer. He excused himself from telling
the story one more time, claiming he had to take a pill. He slipped into
the Klein's study, and through the French doors into the back yard.

The Scully's door was unlocked. He let himself in quietly, knowing Matthew
was asleep upstairs. The entire ground floor was dark. He realized that
Tara must be in bed, too. He felt his way in to the living room, turned
on the light, and saw the Christmas tree again. He found the plug and turned
on its lights, and then turned off the lamp, so the tree was the only illumination
in the room. He sat on the sofa and just got lost in the multicolored lights,
staring at them so intently that they lost focus, and became a kaleidoscope
of color.

"Mulder, why'd you leave?" Scully snapped him out of his reverie.

"I don't know those people, Scully. And I didn't want to talk about
myself any more. You go back to the party, though."

She sat down beside him. "No, that's okay. I'll stay here with you."

"I don't want to ruin your New Year's, Scully. Just because I'm
antisocial, you don't have to be."

"I don't care about the party. My New Year is already off to a good
start. Today was great. You were great."

"What do you mean?"

"You relaxed, Mulder. You enjoyed yourself, fooling around in the
kitchen like that. I don't get to see you like that often. And my family
has never seen you like that, I don't think. It means a lot to me that you're
comfortable enough around my family to be like that."

"Well, most of your family, anyway."

"Bill's a jerk, Mulder. Even I know that. Don't let him bother you."

They sat quietly for a bit, just looking at the tree. They both jumped
when the clock on the mantel began to chime.

"It's midnight, Mulder. Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year, Scully." He took his right arm, put it around
his best friend and pulled her close. She put her head on his shoulder,
he lightly kissed her hair, and they continued to stare silently at the
tree.

<<THE END--with more to come some day.>>