Disclaimers: The characters in this story do not belong to me. They belong to the Holy Trio (Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and FOX Broadcasting). They are being used with out permission, and are not being used for profit. No 'fringes were intended in the use of the above material. Title: "Struck Blind" Author: Jennifer Garant (tkdjen@aol.com) Rating: PG-13, Language Category: MSR, Mulder-angst Summary: After an accident that left him blind, Fox Mulder learns to deal with his new disability. Spoilers: None ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Washington Memorial Hospital July 14, 1997 3:45 PM. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Fox Mulder awoke to darkness. He heard someone moving around as he tried to sit up, and was restrained by ties on his ankles and wrists, he felt gentle hands pushing him back down to the bed. He could not see a face or where he was. A voice spoke, "Mulder? It's me. Scully. Dana Scully." "Scully?" His voice was scratchy and his throat hurt from not talking for a while. "I can't see. Where am I?" A tear rolled down Scully's cheek, she didn't care. He couldn't see it. She fought to hide the sobs in her voice as she answered him. "You're in a hospital in D.C, Mulder." She didn't answer more than he'd asked. She didn't want to tell him at all, but she knew she'd have to soon. Mulder turned his head, trying to find where the voice came from. All he could see through the darkness was a faint, dim, pinkish light. "Where are you? I can't see." More tears fell. She reached out to touch his arm, "I'm here, Mulder. To your right." He turned his head, and saw the silhouette of his partner. "Take the blindfold off. Why am I blindfolded?" This time she couldn't hold back the sobs, "You aren't blindfolded, Mulder. There's nothing on your eyes." She choked out. Mulder frowned, "What are you saying, Scully? Are you saying that I'm...oh, God,... no... Am I blind?" Scully began to cry, and Mulder saw the shadowy figure nod. "Yes, Mulder." Mulder's head spun, and despite what Scully had just told him, he saw a brilliant display of lights flash behind his eyes. His throat began to close up, "Blind? No! No! *NO!*" "It's going to be okay, Mulder. We're going to find out something. Somehow." She touched his cheek and spoke comfortingly, trying to make herself believe what she was saying. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Washington Memorial Hospital July 17, 1997 10:30 AM ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Three days. Mulder has been living in total darkness for three days. He stopped talking. He sits there in his bed, his ties finally removed, staring out the window beside the bed. I don't know why. He can't see anything outside the window anyway. Still, he stares out into space. I want to help him, but he won't let me. He won't even look at me. Or look TOWARDS me. Maybe that's good. I can't stand to look into his eyes anymore. I've always been able to tell what he's thinking and feeling by looking into those deep, hazel eyes. But now, looking at them and seeing their glassy, glazed over stare, it hurts. To know that he looks at me and sees nothing but a shadow, to know that he will never see me again. I know this is hard for him. It's hard for me. It has to be worse for him. I pray. I ask for God to just make this a bad dream and make me wake up soon. I can't live in this Hell anymore. I can't stand to see him like this. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Washington Memorial Hospital July 17, 1997 10:30 AM ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Three days. I still can't see. It's true. I am blind. The doctor, a woman named Dr. Smith, says I lost ninety- nine percent of my sight in both eyes. She says that soon, they are going to teach me how to read Braille and use a Braille typewriter. She says I'll be able to return to work, doing deskjobs. I will have to write the case reports. She calls that work! What about the stakeouts, and foot chases, investigations, and arrests? That is my work. How will I find Samantha and the Truth? I can't even walk yet without Scully holding me up and keeping me from running into walls! Oh, God, why? Why me? There are more than five billion people in the world, why did you have to choose me? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Washington Memorial Hospital July 18, 1997 4:30 PM ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Fox Mulder is like a big child. He has begun his therapy: learning how to walk with the help of a cane, and learning how to read, and type Braille. He has temper tantrums. He will be working with his tutor and just start refusing to do anything. He does what he wants when he wants to do it, and no one can stop him or make him behave. I try to talk to him, but what am I supposed to do? Ground him? Threaten to spank him? Send him to his room? No. He is a grown man. You can't discipline an adult. Besides, he's nearly three feet taller than me and probably weighs close to three times what I do. I watch him now. He is working with the tutor, Julie, on a Braille typer. He is doing well so far. He hasn't gotten the hang of feeding himself yet, but he is doing good. We are trying to figure a way to teach him to determine color, but that will be hard since he can't see, and he was color blind when he could see. We go for walks. He asks me to describe things I see. Colors and shapes. He hears things and he can smell, touch and taste. Yesterday, he asked a nurse to describe me. I started to cry. Thank God she didn't tell him that. How can someone tell him what I look like? With that all he has is his hearing. He could touch and taste me, though I doubt the nurses would like that, and Skinner would blow his top if he found out. He may be able to smell my perfume, and he hears my voice. I want him to see me. Will he forget what I look like? I hope not. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Washington Memorial Hospital July 18, 1997 6:10 PM ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I can't stand for Dana to see me like this. The nurse brought me my meal while Dana was here. She's been here through all of this, Skinner gave her a leave of absence. I cringe when I think how I must look to her. I haven't quite learned how to eat yet, and I get more of the meal on myself than I do in my mouth. I have to wear a bib so I don't make a mess all over myself, it doesn't help much. How must that look to her? A thirty-six year old man wearing a bib and dropping food all over himself. She tries to teach me. She has started learning Braille too, so that she can read what I write. From now on all the X-files reports will be written in Braille by me, and translated by her, so that Skinner can read them. She works on teaching me how to walk again. It will probably be time for our daily walk soon. We go through the park, and she tells me how things look. I wish I could see them. I wish I could see her. Those sky blue eyes, apricot red hair, creamy skin. I will forget soon. I don't want to forget. Without my sight, all I have is hearing. I can't touch her. She holds my hand when we walk sometimes, but I can't touch her enough to see what she is like. I smell her. Her perfume, and the secret soap and water smell that is hers alone. I can't taste her. I don't think I'll ever get that chance. All I have now is my photographic memory and my hearing. Thank God, I've always been able to recognize her by her voice. When I answer the phone, the familiar "Hey, Mulder, it's me." that always greeted me. I miss that. I hear the door open. It's Scully to take me for my walk. I feel like a dog, going out for my daily walk. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Washington Memorial Hospital July 20, 1997 3:45 PM ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Julie says that you'll be able to go home soon, Mulder. We'll have to come back to finish your therapy, but you'll be able to leave after." I tell him. His face lights up. He is tired of this place, as am I. We have both lived here for almost a week. The hospital food is nasty, and the nurses are getting tired of Mulder's dry humor. I know how they feel. I've just learned to live with it. "Finally! I want out of here. I'll bet my fish are dead." He says "I'll bet your fish were dead before you came here." The look on his face suddenly melts and he looks away from me. "Mulder? What's wrong? Did I say something?" I'm worried. I've never seen a good mood die so quickly. "I don't remember what happened, Scully. How I got like this. What happened to me?" He asks, pointing at his eyes. I had hoped that he wouldn't ask me that. I knew he didn't remember, and I had hoped that he wouldn't want to. I have to tell him though. "Alan Kirby. The man we were investigating a case on... got cornered in a old warehouse, and you got too close. He sprayed something in your eyes. We don't know what it is, but it made you blind. It basically ate away the eye tissue, and without that tissue, you can't see." I tell him, it's the truth. I wouldn't lie to him, but I know it isn't what he wanted to hear. He wanted it to be some big fight, that he fought well until the end, not just a quick spray in the eye and BAM it's done. He looks at me. Well, more to the side of me, but he tries. His voice drops to a whisper, "We're going to find the son-of-a-bitch that did this to me, Scully. I'm going to find him." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Washington Memorial Hospital July 21, 1997 2:00 PM ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ They finally let me come home. Scully won't let me go home alone yet. She's making me come to stay with her for a while. Making me. It's not that hard to get me to stay at her house. I feel a hand on my arm and I hear a voice in my ear. "Mulder, it's me, Scully, come on, it's time to go." She tells me, tugging on my arm. "Scully, you don't have to tell me who you are anymore. I knew who it was. I know your voice so well, I could probably pick you out of the New York City subway at rush hour." I tell her, I get up to start collecting my things. Scully chuckles. I have come to read her mood by her voice. Before the accident, I looked at her eyes, but I can no longer do that, so I have learned to measure the pitch of her voice. "Yes, you probably could, Mulder. Come on, the nurses want you out of here." "Me? I thought they'd be crying when I had to leave." I say sarcastically. "You know, Mulder, sometimes I wish you'd lost your voice instead of your sight." She says. I can imagine the look on her face. Her favorite, enigmatic Skeptic Scully look. That's one thing I can go without seeing. We reach the car, and I hear the engine turn and the car start to move. This is weird. I haven't been in a car since the accident, and it's weird not being able to see where you're going, I'm lucky Scully's always been the one with a good sense of direction. Driving. That's something I hadn't thought of. I guess Scully will be driving from now on. I hope her little feet will be able to reach the pedals... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dana Scully's apartment July 21, 1997 2:30 PM ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Okay, Mulder. We're here." Scully announces, getting out of the car and going around to help me out of the car. "Remember the stairs. Stairs are new for you." Scully helps me carefully up each stair till we reached the top. I feel like a baby, needing Scully's hand to get up the stairs, and I still need a hand when walking in new places. Not that I mind holding Scully's hand. He was glad that he finally had an excuse to do it, but sometimes he just felt so helpless. Once in Scully's apartment, she lets my hand go, and I begin my usual process; wandering around the room carefully, finding each piece of furniture and memorizing its location and feeling things so I know what went where. It has become second nature to me. Scully gave me the guest bedroom to stay in. I unpack some things we brought from my apartment. Clothes, shoes, my fish, which are miraculously still alive, my toothbrush and comb. I hang all my clothes in the closet, and set all my stuff up in the bathroom. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dana Scully's apartment July 21, 1997 6:30 PM ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Cooking. One thing I've never been good at. Before I could see what I had cooked, but I couldn't tell what it was, now I can't see what it is, but I can tell what it is. Ironic. Scully has been trying to include me in everything she does. Now we are making dinner. She has me stirring a pot of something that smells like marinara sauce. She is on the other side of the kitchen chopping carrots for a salad. "Have you ever made spaghetti, Mulder?" Scully asks me. "I tried, once, but it didn't work too well." I reply. "Well, maybe you'll learn how to cook something other than a microwave meal." She says playfully. "Hey! Don't be getting on me just because I never took home-ec in High School." "Yeah, you were too busy with your French classes." She retorts. She dishes the spaghetti noodles out of the pot onto plates and carries them to the table. "Can you say one thing in French?" I follow her to the table and pull out her chair for her. She sits and I push it back to the table. "Bon appetite, Mademoiselle Dana." I smile. I can just imagine her look, red eyebrows up almost to her hairline, and her lips curved in a smile. "Everyone knows what "Bon appetite" means, Mulder." She says taking a bite of spaghetti. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dana Scully's apartment July 21, 1997 8:00 PM ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ We sit now, watching TV. Well, I listen to it. I work on reading a Braille novel that Julie gave me. I hate this. It takes too long to read a book written in Braille. I want to be able to look at something and read what it says, not having to touch and feel the stupid little bumps to read it. I want to be able to watch TV with Dana. I hear the voices, and I understand the jokes, but when something funny happens that doesn't involve words, a character doing something stupid, I hear Dana laughing, but I don't have the faintest idea what she's laughing about. "Mulder, do you want to play a game or something?" She asks. I think she's using her mind reading powers again. "No, I think I'm going to go to bed early. Good night, Scully." I get up and feel my way to my room. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dana Scully's apartment July 22, 1997 9:00 AM ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I wake up to find Dana eating breakfast in the kitchen. She pours me some cereal, and I taste it tentitivley, not knowing what kind of cereal it is. It's Frosted Flakes. Very un-Scullylike. "Do you want to go out today, Mulder?" "Where?" I asked, I'm not sure if I want to go out in public yet. "Well, I was thinking that maybe we could go to the bookstore and get you some more books, and you have you thearapy with Julie at 3:30." "I think I'd like to go out, Scully." I lied, knowing that Scully would probably make me go anyway. "Okay, then. We'll go out later, do some shopping, and get some lunch." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dana Scully's apartment July 22, 1997 10:00 AM ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ We ate breakfast and got ready to go out. I wandered my way into the living room looking for my shoes when I heard Scully laughing. "What's so funny?" I ask She stops laughing immeadiatley. "It's nothing." She says quietly. I realize that she was laughing at me. I did something wrong. I frown. "What is it? Tell me." "Mulder..." Her voice is almost a whisper. "Your socks are different colors." She pauses. "And your shirt doesn't match your pants." I stop looking for my shoes and try to look at her. I see her shadow, but I can't tell what she's doing. She gets up, takes my hand and leads me down the hall to my room. I sit on the bed and I can hear her going through my closet and the dresswer. "Here, Mulder. These socks are white and they match your white shirt. There now you match." She says handing me a pair of socks and a white T shirt. I change my shirt and put the socks on. Scully has my shoes. I put those on, too. "Oh, Mulder. It's okay." She says, wiping a tear off my cheek, I didn't even realize that I was crying. The touch on my cheek breaks the dam, and I let the tears fall. I don't want to cry. Men don't cry, but I'm so tired of this. I'm tired of being looked after, and given things I can do, and having to learn how to read Braille, and learning how to walk. I went to school. I learned how to write and read. Why do I have to do it again? Scully sits beside me on the bed and I feel her arms pull me closer, into her strong but gentle embrace. "Mulder, you are doing fine. It's okay to make a mistake once in a while." "I'm tired." I cry "I don't want to be like this anymore. I don't want to have to be taken care of like a little kid. I'm an adult. I can't even dress myself anymore." "It's okay, Mulder. I know that you don't understand this yet, and that it's hard for you, but you have to try. You can't give up, okay?" "I understand! I do! I got sprayed in the eyes with some chemical that made me blind, and now I'm a helpless handicaped! What is there not to understand?" I'm screaming at her now. I sit there in her arms for what seems like hours, crying. She holds me, whispering into my ear. I finally fall asleep. Something I've been wanting to do since the day I met Dana Scully. Fall asleep in her arms. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dana Scully's apartment July 22, 1997 8:30 PM ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The day went along smoothly. I awoke still in Dana's arms, and we went to my thearapy session with Julie. Dana left while I was working and bought me a new book on extra terrestrials. Then we went home and made dinner, and now sit here in total silence. I'm reading my new book, and Dana is reading something. I don't know what it is. We have hardly spoken all day. I figure that it's one of her pathology novels, but how would I know? I can't see the cover. This book Dana bought is stupid. It's about the Roswell cover-up. Nothing I didn't already know. I'm suprized that Dana would buy it. The silence is killing me. I begin to wonder if I've gone deaf too. Scully reads my mind again. She breaks the silence. "Mulder, can we talk?" "About what?" I reply. My voice is rough from not talking much. "About us, Mulder." Scully says, her voice sounds strained. Like she's trying not to cry. "Why?" I know I'm being difficult, but Dana's used to that. "Because, it's something I've been thinking about a lot." I think to myself. "Talk." I tell her. I know she's going to anyway. "Well, Mulder...Fox" "I've been thinking that since...I-I-I" She stumbles over her words like Porky Pig. This is different for her. She's usually able to say whatever is on her mind. She pauses and sighs. "I want us to get married, Mulder." She blurts out quickly. My head spins and I see those flashes of color behind my eyes again. Red, blue, green, and yellow. They are a comfort after the endless pinkish-black I've been in for so long. "Scully, I want to get married too, but I can't marry someone out of pity. I want someone who loves me." I tell her firmly. Now she starts to cry. Great, I made her cry. Why is everyone crying today? "*I* love you, Mulder. I wouldn't want to get married if I didn't." I don't know what happened, but the colors behind my eyes got brighter. Flourescent. "Are the neighbors asking you questions, Scully? About why I've been here so long. You want to make them think that whatever we've been doing in here is getting ready for a wedding, Scully." I get up and start to leave. "I can't marry you, Scully. I can't marry someone who feels sorry for me and wants to take care of me. I can't. I *won't*!" I'm screaming again. "Mulder, stop it! Stop it now!" She's yelling now too, I feel a sharp sting across my cheek. She hit me. I never saw it coming. I couldn't see it coming. "Stop trying to be difficult and feeling sorry for yourself! That's what you're doing! Beating up on yourself for letting this happen! You have to deal with this, Mulder. It's a fact that you're gonna have to deal with sooner or later, and if you wait, it's going to be harder! You've always been alone, because you isolate yourself. Stop isolating yourself and let someone in! Let *me* in!" I hear her drop back to the sofa and cry. I am stunned. Stunned by more than the sting from her slap. Stunned by her words. They're true. I have isolated myself. Locked myself in my office with all my aliens and mutants and phsycotic killers. I never even saw it. Saw her. I *saw* her, but I never saw *inside* her. I never saw that she loved me. I never saw that *I* loved *her*. I move to sit beside her on the sofa, and hug her. I whisper to her. "Oh, Scully. Dana, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I do love you. I just can't marry someone who only wants to take care of me. I have to marry a woman who loves me, someone that I love back. I never realized. I never saw it. Saw that I had found that person. You. I found that person when I found you. I do want to get married. Let's do it. She freezes for a second. I feel her hand on my cheek again, rubbing at the spot where she hit me. There is laughter in her voice. "I made a handprint." She tells me, touching her hand to match the mark on my face. "I'm sorry, Mulder. I don't know what happened. I- I just got so angry. I'm sorry." "Fox, Dana." I tell her. "What?" "Fox. Call me Fox." "Only if you call me Dana." "Agreed." I say, putting my hand out for her to shake it. She takes my little finger and hooks hers around mine. "Pinky swear." She whispers. "I love you, Dana Scully." I whisper as I bend down and find her mouth with mine. She is sweet, like sugar, and chocolate, hotter than fire, and cooler than ice at the same time. I taste that secret, unique ingrident that belongs to her alone. I don't know how we're going to do this, how we are going to make it work, but I know that we will. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Comments are appreciated. Flames will be ignored, and are not wanted. e-mail tkdjen@aol.com.