New! Beauty's Beast by Susan Proto
Date: Mon, 29 Mar 1999
Category: Story, MulderTorture, Angst, M&S/UST/
Rating: PG13 for language
Spoilers: Through Sixth Season
Summary: Mulder suffers love and loss.
Archive: Yes
Disclaimer: Mulder & Scully characters belong to 10/13
productions and Chris
Carter. I'm just borrowing them. I won't keep them. At the end of
the story
you can have `em back, I swear, (unless you *want* to give `em to
me.) All
other characters belong to me, and if Mr. Carter wants to borrow
them, all he
needs to do is ask. <grin>
Do I want feedback? Of course I want feedback! Will I respond
to you? Of
course I'll respond to you....but be patient.. I'm planning a Bar
Mitzvah, and
real life is a tad hectic! Thanks in advance for your
understanding!
For Vickie: ;-)
1.) Mulder ain't dead.
2.) Scully don't give a hoot about Emily.
3.) They're physically apart, but it ain't by their choice...
and emotionally,
they're as tight as ever! <G>
4.) There is a "No Dumping" sign posted in the
disclaimers, just for
you....<eg>
5.) But there is enough angst to go around for all....
Beauty's Beast
by Susan Proto (STPteach@aol.com)
Part 1/4
Burke Rehabilitation Center
Baltimore, MD
Tuesday, 2:45 p.m.
Mulder shifted in the bed, having totally forgotten the
excruciating pain just
that little action had caused him not five minutes earlier.
"DAMN!" he shouted aloud. "Damn it!" he
repeated with a little less
vehemence.
He'd been in the rehab center for only a day and a half, but
he'd already had
enough of the confinement. To make matters worse, Scully was
still out of
town. She had to go back to Kentucky to finish up the remaining
paperwork on
the case that got him injured in the first place.
She hadn't wanted to leave him, but since she'd stayed by his
side all through
his initial hospital admittance, surgery, and recuperation period
for the last
ten days, the bureau was not about to grant her leave to baby sit
Mulder while
he went through rehab. So, she returned to the scene of the
crime, and got
stuck with filing all of the reports.
Mulder owed her big time. And at the moment he would have
given anything to
have been able to return with her if just to keep her company. He
missed her.
And his leg hurt like hell. And he wanted to go home. And he
missed her.
Oh. That was mentioned already. But he missed Scully a lot, and
it made him
feel even more miserable and in pain to not have her around to
remind him
everything was going to be okay.
So, for now, even though Mulder desperately wanted to go home,
he knew the
only way they'd discharge him was to make sure his leg was healed
enough for
him to be able to maneuver about.
Of course, with the amount of damage his leg had sustained, it
seemed very
unlikely he'd be released before the estimated three week time
period. So for
now, he simply wanted to find a more comfortable position in the
bed to which
he was now confined.
He didn't succeed. "SHIT!" he cried out in pain.
"Nice mouth," called out a hidden voice with an odd
timbre. "You eat with
that mouth too?"
"What?" Mulder responded in an irritated tone, as he
had no idea as to where
the person, whose voice he was listening to, was hiding.
"I said you seem to be suffering from 'potty mouth'."
"What the hell? Who the hell is talking? Show yourself
for crying out loud!"
Mulder was in too much discomfort to have to deal with both his
leg and
insults.
"Maybe I will, maybe I won't," taunted the voice.
"Who the hell are you? Where the hell are you?"
Mulder asked in confusion, as
he could hear the voice fairly clearly, but he didn't have a clue
as to where
or from whom it was coming. Now the paranoid side of him was
coming out, and
he was becoming, if nothing else, anxious about the seemingly
lack of security
in the facility. After all, he was an FBI agent who was shot in
the line of
duty. Mulder was in fact, becoming downright nervous.
He pressed again, "Look, I don't know who you are, but I
know I want you out
of my room now. So, whoever the hell you are, get the fuck out of
here before
I call security!"
"NO! Wait! Kelly. My name is Kelly. You like the name
Kelly?" asked the
slightly raspy, somewhat nasal voice.
"Oh, yeah. I _love_ the name Kelly," he said with
little patience. Mulder
was in pain and having an unknown person hiding somewhere in his
room was not
sitting well with him at the moment. "Look, Kelly, I would
appreciate it if
you would either come out of hiding, or get the hell out of here.
I'm not
feeling too great at the moment, and I don't feel like dealing
with this crap
right now."
Mulder in fact felt rather nauseous at that moment, and would
have given
anything for a garbage can to hold onto for security. He was
trying to go
cold turkey in using pain killers, but the intense stabbing
sensation which
now pulsated up and down his thigh was making him feel sick to
his stomach.
"Kelly, where ever the hell you are, I need that trash
can over there. Now.
Please I need it now!" Mulder pleaded, as he felt his
stomach do enough flip
flops to make up for ten Coney Island Cyclone roller coaster
rides.
Several moments passed and there was no response, when
suddenly from behind
the closet door, a small figure appeared. Her head was down, but
Mulder could
see she had a full head of dark, brown hair.
"Kelly? The trash can, please hurry!" he pleaded anxiously.
She kept her head down and moved as quickly as she could to
the trash can on
the side of the bed. She picked it up and pushed it toward
Mulder. He took
it greedily and immediately put it to good use.
Mulder vomited the contents of his breakfast and his lunch.
His leg continued
to throb and now his head was pulsating to the same pounding
rhythm. It took
a few minutes for Mulder to finish emptying the contents of his
stomach, but
when he did, he felt totally whipped. All he could think of was
pushing the
call button to get the nurse so she would give him some meds. As
much as he
didn't want to have to use them, he knew at that point in time,
he didn't have
a choice.
When he finally felt like he was able to pick his head up out
of the trash
can, he got a better look at the small figure in the room with
him. It was a
child; a young girl, though since she still hadn't looked up
Mulder couldn't
determine how old she was. Her face remained clearly pointed to
the floor as
if she were intent upon counting the tiles beneath her feet.
While Mulder contemplated the small figure before him, he
reached for the
pitcher of water on the table right beside his bed. He poured
himself some
water and sipped it very, very slowly through the straw.
The child then slowly raised her head with her eyes opened
wide, as if to
offer him a dare. When he continued to sip slowly on the straw
and drink his
water, she remarked with a slight edge to her voice, "Okay,
I'm impressed."
"Impressed?" he echoed, not sure as to what to say next.
"Yeah. Not a shudder, not flinch. I'm impressed," she repeated.
Mulder nodded slightly in acknowledgment of what she'd just
said and then
responded, "Yeah, well, you'd be surprised what I've seen in
my line of
work."
"Oh."
Mulder noted the look of what appeared to be surprise on her
face. At least
he thought it was surprise. He maintained a neutral expression
himself, but
It was, to be honest, difficult to discern exactly what
expression the child
was expressing on her rather uniquely formed face.
He noted her slightly larger than expected head with its
somewhat flattened
face, which caused the child's eyes to be spread farther apart
than normal.
Her nose was actually wider and much flatter as well.
She fell silent for a moment as she wasn't sure how to respond
to Mulder's
rather atypical 'lack of response.' Finally, she went with what
she felt
most comfortable with; taken from the old adage, 'a good defense
is a good
offense.'
"You know, they don't know what they're talking
about," she said very
confidently.
"Who doesn't know what they're talking about, and what is
it that they're
talking about?" he asked curiously.
"Well, they're talking about you, but they're wrong. Your
nose is too big;
way too big for your face." It was a presented as a
statement of fact.
"Excuse me?" he remarked incredulously. "What
are you talking about, young
lady?"
"The nurses keep saying how gorgeous you are, but your
nose is too damn big!"
she said matter of fact.
"Umm, watch your own 'potty mouth' young lady," he
said. "And my nose may be
too big, but yours is pretty much nonexistent, so I guess we
should call this
one a draw, okay?"
Kelly stood there with her mouth practically gaping open. Had
he actually
said what he said? Kelly wasn't sure how to react to this new
found candor.
"What's your name?" she asked in attempt to divert them both.
"Mulder."
"Mulder? That's a ridiculous first name," she responded.
"Never said it was my first name."
"Oh. So, what's your first name?" Kelly asked.
"Doesn't matter, since you're never going to use
it," he responded in rapid
fire succession.
"Oh? And why not?" Kelly retorted.
"Because, I don't allow anyone to use it," he
replied, "My own mother even
calls me Mulder."
"Oh, bullshit," she reacted.
"Damn potty mouth," he muttered.
They stared at one another, in an apparent standoff. Minutes
passed, when she
finally asked, "Why you here?"
"Screwed up my leg chasing down a bad guy," he said.
"You're a cop?" she asked curiously.
"Kind of. FBI agent." Mulder paused for a minute and
then asked the same
question of her. "What's your excuse?"
"Oh, I had another stupid surgery on my spine. I gotta go
through these
stupid exercises and stuff, so I don't get all out of whack
again," she
replied. "But it's okay. I like this place better anyway.
It's kind of
like my home away from home," she chuckled a bit as she said
that, as if she'd
made a joke.
Suddenly the door to Mulder's room swung open and one of the
floor nurses, Lin
Hu, walked in. "So there you are, Miss Porter. We've been
looking for you,
sweet pea! Time for your therapy session. Let's get you a chariot
and get
you over there PDQ."
He watched as Kelly, a mere wisp of a child, nodded
compliantly at Lin and
went to the door. Before she left, however, she turned to Mulder,
and said in
her best 'Terminator' voice, "I'll be back."
Mulder responded in the only way he could. In his best
'Arnold'
impersonation, he said, "I'll be here."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Lin Hu escorted Kelly Porter out of his room, Mulder had
a chance to
reflect upon what had just occurred, though he wasn't able to
make too much
sense out of it. Kelly was a child with physical problems which
went beyond
her spinal surgery. She had facial deformities as well as tumor
like growths
on her face and neck.
Mulder had also observed the skin around Kelly's eyes seemed
to bulge out.
There was definitely something odd about the construct of her eye
sockets, but
Mulder wasn't sure what it was. The most noticeable
characteristic about
Kelly's face, however, was the numerous small, dark brown, beauty
marks around
her face and neck which framed the small tumors scattered around
her face.
Upon reflection, Mulder couldn't believe he'd made the crack
about her nose,
yet he hadn't meant it cruelly. Granted it was rapid fire retort
to her
comment about his nose, but it was a more of a statement of fact,
much in the
same way Kelly was referring to Mulder's too big nose as a
statement of fact.
He could understand if the child was insulted, but she didn't
seem to be.
Granted, she seemed surprised, but not upset.
At this point, however, Mulder wasn't sure if he even wanted
to think about
the scenario which had just taken place; he had enough of his own
problems to
worry about. Mulder certainly didn't need to worry about those of
a young
girl with enough medical problems to make his own seem very
insignificant.
Yet, he couldn't get her expression out of his mind when he
threw her own
imperfections back up in her face. It was certainly one of
surprise, but
tinged with something he thought might have been one of respect,
or perhaps
even gratitude.
Of course, moments after she'd gone and he'd finished focusing
on someone
other than himself, the pain in Mulder's leg returned in full
force. He rang
his buzzer in the hope he'd find relief as quickly as possible.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
4:15 p.m.
"So, Fox, what's up?" Kelly asked as she wheeled
herself into Mulder's room
about ninety minutes later.
"How the hell did you find out my name?" he asked
annoyed, though he was
pretty sure it was more because the pain meds still hadn't kicked
in by then.
"Checked your chart, Fox," she said, with an obvious
emphasis on his given
name.
"Look, I would really appreciate it if you didn't call me
that. I'm asking
you nicely. Please," he pleaded firmly.
"So, how come your Mom hated you so much she named you 'Fox'?" Kelly asked.
"Why are you assuming my mother hated me? My mother
didn't hate me. It's my
mother's maiden name. She wanted to keep the name going," he
said.
"So it couldn't have stayed alive as your middle
name?" she asked
incredulously. "God, Fox, how many times did you have to
defend yourself
because of that dumb ass name?"
"Too many times," he muttered. Once again he shifted
around in the bed and
tried to get comfortable. He was not succeeding and was becoming
more and
more upset. For some reason the pain meds the nurse had given him
earlier now
felt as if they were nothing more than sugar pills. His leg
started acting up
immediately. "God damn leg hurts like a mother fucker!"
Mulder gasped.
"You want me to get Lin? " she asked earnestly.
"Yeah. Kelly, please. It suddenly feels like my leg is
burning up," he
explained through clenched teeth.
Kelly, who was still in her wheelchair, pushed herself to the
door, opened it,
and then called out loudly, "Mulder needs an infection
inspection!" She
waited for an acknowledgment from the main desk and then returned
to Mulder.
"They said two minutes. Hang in there, Mulder. Two
minutes isn't too bad,"
she said encouragingly.
"Okay. I know, but damn, it hurts. This wasn't supposed
to happen. I was
supposed to be clear of this shit," he bemoaned.
Lin walked in the door with Doctor Crane in tow. "Okay,
Mr. Mulder, what can
we do for you?"
"My leg. Hurts like hell, and it feels like it's burning
up," Mulder
complained.
"Okay, Mr. Mulder__," the doctor began before he was quickly cut off by Kelly.
"He likes to be called 'Mulder'. And that's Secret Agent
Mulder to you!"
retorted Kelly.
Mulder managed to cast a smile over Kelly's innocent slip of
the tongue.
Secret Agent Man. Mulder thought that sounded way 'kewler' than
just '
Special Agent'. However, the only thing he was truly concerned
about being
'cooler' was his leg. It really did feel warm to the touch.
"Okay, Agent Mulder, let's check out the leg." The
doctor gave a perfunctory
exam of the leg wound and subsequent stitches. The leg felt
tender to the
touch of the doctor's hands, which meant Mulder was probably not
going to be
walking on it in the near future. At that moment, he didn't care
anymore.
He simply wanted some relief from the pain.
"Well, it looks like you've developed a little infection
in the incision, Mr.
Mulder. Everything had been progressing well, so I'm surprised
you developed
an infection at this point, but, it's not unheard of. We'll get
you started
on a nice little antibiotic cocktail and have you up and ready
for therapy in
a couple of days," Dr. Crane concluded.
"Thanks, Doc. What about the pain. Can I get something for it?" he asked.
"We'll try some Tylenol (r) with codeine Mr. Mulder. That
should do the trick,"
he replied. He nodded toward Lin Hu and she went off to pick up a
dosage of
the Tylenol (r). "So, Miss Porter," the doctor said, as
he turned toward the
younger of the two patients in his care, "have you been
harassing one of my
patients?"
"C'mon, Doc, give a kid a break! It's soooo, darrrrrn,
booooring in this
place! What's a kid to do if not harass the other patients?"
Kelly replied
dramatically.
Dr. Crane smiled at Kelly's performance. He felt compassion
for her, as did
the rest of the staff who were familiar with Kelly's
circumstances. "Okay,
Miss Porter, we need to let Mr. Mulder ___."
"__Mulder! Just plain, Mulder," Kelly insisted.
"Fine, we need to let _Mulder_ rest for now. I'm sure he
wouldn't mind a
little more harassing tomorrow, but for now, he needs to let the
medication do
its job without any interference from you, young lady."
"Oh, okay," Kelly agreed begrudgingly, "but I'm
gonna check on you later, just
to make sure they're treating you all right. Okay, Mulder?"
"Sure, Kelly. I'd like that," replied Mulder. What
surprised the hell out of
him was he really meant it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
End of Part 1/4
Beauty's Beast
by Susan Proto (STPteach@aol.com)
Disclaimers in Part 1
Part 2/4
6:25 p.m.
A couple of hours passed and the phone rang Mulder out of his
stupor. He
reached for it blindly, as he found it difficult to deal with the
light with
his opened eyes. When he picked it up, he said a mumbled,
"Mulder," to which
he heard the reply, "Mulder, it's me."
He woke up right quick after that.
"Scully? Is that you?" His tone of voice was
frightfully close to that of an
adolescent's whine. "What time is it?" he asked
confused.
"It's going on six-thirty, Mulder. What's going on?
You're not sleeping on
the job, are you?" she asked in jest.
"Naw, Scully. I'm getting ready to do an Irish Jig for
you," he replied in
kind. "So, what's going on? Are you coming home soon?"
"Not soon enough. Mulder, the bullet that hit you? You're
not going to
believe what the ballistics tests finally showed up; at least
once they
decided to unbury it."
"What? What are you talking about?" Mulder asked
curiously while working very
hard to maintain his control over the still intolerable pain in
his infected
leg.
"You were hit by friendly fire, my dear partner."
"What? Friendly fire? Damn. You're kidding. Who?"
"Officer Gregory Halpern. Third year on the force. First
shoot. Can you
imagine? The poor guy gets his first shot in , and it has to be
against a
fellow officer.
"Funny, I would think he'd have won the office pool," Mulder muttered.
"C'mon, Mulder. None of that, okay? Now, how are you
doing? Did you have a
good therapy workout?" Scully asked with concern.
"Well, no. Umm, I mean, they had to reschedule my therapy
for tomorrow, since
they were, umm, overbooked," Mulder explained weakly.
"Oh? That's rather unusual, isn't it , Mulder?"
"Yeah, I guess, but you know things are never mundane
when I'm around,
Scully."
"True, true," she chuckled, not giving the lame
excuse another thought. "So,
how _is_ the leg feeling?" Scully asked curiously.
"Fine," he replied. "I feel just fine."
Which of course should have been Scully's first clue that
everything was
definitely not fine.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kelly had taken up residence in the closet just prior to
Scully's phone call,
so she'd heard the entire side of Mulder's conversation. She was
a pretty
smart kid, and was able to fill in the missing points of interest
fairly
easily.
For one, she learned that much like herself, Mulder lied
through his teeth
when he didn't want to draw attention to himself or share bad
news. She'd
watched him throughout the entire phone call, and she watched him
wince every
time he shifted in the bed or said he felt 'fine.'
Kelly wasn't positive who this Scully was, though her people
sense knew Scully
had to be a woman. The man practically melted into the pillow
when he'd
realized it was her. So, not only was Scully a woman, but she was
a woman who
Mulder was in love with. Time to find out exactly who this Scully
person
was.
"So? Who the hell is Scully?" Mulder practically
jumped out of the bed he
was so startled!
"Jeeze! You have got to stop doing that!" Mulder
cried out. "God they're
gonna have me in for a God damned coronary instead of just rehab
for my leg."
At the mere mention of his leg, Mulder winced. He was still in
pain, and he
couldn't understand why. The antibiotics usually kicked in a lot
faster than
this. He then looked over at his visitor and something occurred
to him.
"Kelly, how long have you been in there?"
"Not long," she hedged, but when she looked up at
Mulder she confessed a bit
more, "Oh, just for a little while."
"Kelly, you really can't be coming in here without being
invited in. Please.
There are times I would appreciate my privacy and being
absolutely certain
that I have it. Please?" he pleaded.
"Sure, okay," she responded quickly. She saw Mulder
still looked a bit
annoyed, so she added a not very contrite, "Sorry."
Mulder nodded in
acknowledgment, to which Kelly immediately asked, "So? Who
is Scully?"
"Christ, Kelly! Isn't anything sacred," he snorted
with a slight chuckle.
The kid had so much moxie, he couldn't stay angry with her for
too long.
"Sure, but who is she? Wife?"
"No! No, she's not my wife, and how the hell do you know
she's a woman?" he
asked curiously.
"Oh, women just know these things, Fox."
"Mulder," he reminded in a deadpan.
"Right. So if she's not your wife, what is she, your girlfriend?"
He actually hesitated. He hadn't meant to, of course, since
Scully was not in
any way, shape, or form his girlfriend. Oh, but how he wished it
to be true.
When he finally came to his senses, he replied, "That would
not be very
accurate. She's not my girlfriend; she is my partner."
"Oh, another secret agent, huh?" Kelly responded excitedly.
Mulder laughed lightly as he corrected her miscue again,
"Special Agent,
kiddo, not 'Secret' Agent. God, you make us sound like we work
for the CIA
instead of the FBI."
"Oh. Well, how are you feeling now?" she asked.
Kelly was astute enough to
see the face that was smiling not seconds ago, took on a pained
expression.
"Okay. I'm fine," he answered automatically.
"You lie," she retorted quickly.
"What?" he looked at her incredulously. How the hell
did she know? "What are
you talking about?"
"Mulder, I can see it in your face. And I was watching
you when you were
talking to Scully. Every time she asked you how you were doing,
you said you
were fine, but every single time you said it you made a face. The
same face
you made just now!" she animatedly explained.
"A face? C'mon, Kelly. I don't know what you're talking
about," rebuked
Mulder.
"Oh, yeah? You make _this_ face," and she then
proceeded to make a small
grimace with her mouth. She squinted slightly with her eyes, and
she tried to
squinch up her nose a bit, but the facial deformity didn't allow
her to do
that part of her imitation justice.
"I look like that?" he asked with a dubious tone.
"Yep. Look, I'll show you. She opened up one of the night
tables and pulled
out a hand held mirror she knew they kept in there. She stood up
gingerly,
and moved to be by Mulder's bedside. Next, she asked Mulder to
tell her why
he didn't tell Scully the truth about his leg, to which he
replied without
hesitation, "I'm fine, Kelly!"
The youngster was fast on the draw and held the mirror up very
quickly.
Mulder could plainly see that, with the exception of his wrinkled
nose, Kelly
had his expression down to a tee. He closed his eyes then and
sighed.
"I can't tell her yet. There's nothing she can do about
it at the moment, and
it would only make her feel badly," he said softly. He
paused momentarily,
and then just started talking as if he needed the catharsis.
"She's stuck in
Kentucky. The guy who shot me turned out to not be the perp, but
one of
Lexington's finest. Scully's gotta stay in town for the internal
investigation since she's one of the few eye witnesses. Lucky
her." He then
added in a whisper, "Unlucky me."
"You were shot by a cop?" Kelly asked unbelievingly.
"Yep. Like I said, 'unlucky' me," he replied.
"So, how come no one else has comes to visit you?" she asked curiously.
"Brazen little pistol, aren't you?" Mulder asked
rhetorically, but Kelly
nodded enthusiastically in agreement anyway.
"Don't have anyone around to visit me," he explained
wearily. "My mother
lives in Connecticut, so it's not a little jaunt around the
corner for her to
come and see me," he explained.
"Ya mean she didn't come to see you when you first got
shot?" she asked
incredulously.
"Well, no. I mean, she had a stroke a few years back, and
she's never been
quite the same physically," he stammered.
"Bullshit."
"Kelly, knock it off," Mulder admonished.
"But it is, Fox! Your mother is supposed to visit you
when your sick or hurt,"
Kelly protested.
"Yeah? So where's your mother?" he asked in
frustration. Of course, he
regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth.
"Kelly, I'm sorry.
It's none of my business."
"Naw, it's okay. I never said my mother was Cher. Guess
yours isn't either,"
she proposed.
"Cher? I'm sorry, but now you're confusing the hell out of me," he replied.
"C'mon, Fox, surely you know the movie 'Mask.' You know,
the one with Cher
and that guy who's now on Chicago Hope playing a really weird
holistic kind of
doctor? Eric Stoltz. That's what his name is. I keep forgetting
his name.
"Well, anyway, remember? Eric Stoltz played this kid
named Rocky. I don't
remember what his last name was, but it don't matter. Anyway, he
had
something like NF or maybe Proteus Syndrome or something, but the
point is, he
was an ugly sonofabitch, just like me.
"But Cher loved him cause he was her baby. And all of
Cher's biker friends
liked him too, cause he was Cher's son. I guess not every mother
can be like
Cher, can they?" she asked wistfully.
He looked at her for a moment and tried to imagine what the
world saw when
they looked at Kelly Porter, for he suddenly realized he saw a
very different
person. He wanted to tell her there was a Cher out there for her,
hell, for
both of them. But he knew he could never lie to her. He respected
her too
much to ever lie to her.
"No, Kelly," he responded. "I don't suppose
there are too many Chers out
there at all."
"Ya think there are any at all? I mean, it was a stupid
movie, right? Maybe
even Cher wasn't like, for real."
No, he could never lie to her, but he could never burst her
dreams either.
"No, I'm sure Rocky's mom was pretty cool, Kelly," he
said confidently.
"Ya think?" asked the teenager, her tone brightening.
"Yeah," he said, and then just to make sure she
understood, he added, "Yeah,
Sweetheart, I'm pretty damned sure.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
8:15 p.m.
He looked really tired, so Kelly told Mulder to try and let
the pain killers
do their job and get some rest. Besides, she was pretty whipped
herself. It
was hard work making a new friend.
'Specially since she'd never made one before.
Oh, sure, she'd known people who treated her okay, but those
were the doctors
and nurses, and the therapy staff. They were paid to be nice to
her. She'd
never known anyone who would treat her nice 'cause they wanted
to.
Her parents should have fit into that category, but of course
they didn't.
Her dad had left when Kelly was only about three, maybe three and
a half years
of age. The tumors had been popping out already, but they'd been
contained to
her spinal area and the neck.
And of course the Scoliosis was most noticeable by the time
she was five. The
curvature of her spine made her look like even more of a freak
than the
disfigurement on her face.
So, Dad took a hike and left Mom holding the bag; over the
baby's face of
course. She found it very difficult to look beyond the tumors and
the brown
beauty marks that covered much of her neck and the right lower
part of her
chin.
Nope, Mom was no Cher.
Not that her mom ever beat her or abused her physically. She
simply couldn't
look at her without seeing a little crippled kid before her eyes,
and Kelly
got to a point where she couldn't stand it any longer.
So, she ran away. More than just a few times. Many, many times.
And the courts finally got tired of picking her up for the
petty crimes she
committed to keep food in her stomach and clothes on her back.
She wished she
could have headed up a group of misfits, but even they felt they
were too
mainstreamed for the likes of her.
So where was Cher when she needed her? Nowhere to be found.
But she found
the next best thing. She found herself a Fox.
Better than that, she found herself a friend.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
End of part 2/4
Beauty's Beast
by Susan Proto (STPteach@aol.com)
Disclaimers in Part 1
Part 3/4
12:55 a.m.
She'd quietly returned to his room, just to check up on him.
She'd been
around doctors and nurses so much of her young life, Kelly felt
she should put
an R.N. or M.D. next to her name. She cracked the door slightly
to make sure
she wouldn't startle him if he was awake. When she didn't hear
anything
unusual, Kelly assumed he was asleep.
The teenager pushed the door in all the way and walked in. She
saw Mulder was
sleeping, or rather, trying to sleep. When Kelly put the small
overhead light
on, she could see he was extremely flushed, and he was sweating.
She touched
his forehead lightly to check to see if he was as warm as he
looked. Mulder
unconsciously leaned into the touch and groaned softly with
discomfort.
He was warm. Very warm. Yet Kelly also noted he was huddled
under the
blanket which meant he had the chills. She realized the infection
was nowhere
near under control, so she buzzed for the nurse.
The night nurse probably wouldn't be as understanding of
Kelly's night time
visits as Lin Hu would be, but Kelly knew she didn't have any
choice. Not if
she wanted to see Mulder get well, she didn't.
Leslie Perkins appeared at Mulder's door a few minutes later.
She was aware
he'd developed a case of cellulitis around his incision, so she
expected to
hear some pleas for more analgesics. Needless to say, Leslie was
more than
just a little surprised to see Kelly Porter standing next to her
patient's
bed.
"Miss Porter? What brings you here at such a late
time?" Leslie asked
sternly. "Shouldn't you be in bed young lady? You have your
own recovery to
consider, you know," she reminded.
"I know, I know. Like it's really gonna matter," she
muttered and then more
forcefully said, "But look at him. He's supposed to be
getting better with
the antibiotics, and he's not. He's worse Mrs. Perkins. He's a
lot worse
than from earlier this evening."
"All right, Kelly. Let me check his temperature, and I'll
page Dr. Stewart as
well, okay?" Perkins asked.
Kelly nodded and then thought to herself that perhaps Perkins
wasn't so bad
after all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
1:15 a.m.
Leslie hadn't liked what she saw and paged Dr. Stewart
immediately. Mulder's
temperature was elevated to over 103. This was way too high for
someone on
antibiotics. Obviously, a new regimen was going to have to be
prescribed
immediately.
While she'd waited for the doctor to appear, Leslie had taken
a quick look at
the infected area. The area was screaming with redness, and with
a tight,
glossy appearance of the skin. What truly alarmed her was the
thin red line
that seemed to creep along up toward Mulder's heart.
This was definitely not the symptoms of a man who'd been on
antibiotics for
several hours. When Dr. Stewart had finally appeared, Leslie had
pointed out
all of her observations.
"Well done, Leslie. You made a good pick up," the doctor praised.
"Actually Doctor, I have to confess it wasn't my pick
up," replied Leslie.
When the doctor looked at her curiously, she explained, "It
was Kelly. She's
the one who came in to check on Mr. Mulder, and she's the one who
buzzed me
when she'd realized he was running a fever and still in
pain."
"Really? Good job! I do believe, Miss Porter, we should
put an R.N. right
next to your name!," he reacted.
Kelly thought to herself rather smugly, *Told ya so.* However
she came out of
that reverie fairly quickly when she heard Perkins and Stewart
planning
Mulder's next course of treatment.
"We'll start him on a new round of antibiotics, but I
want a blood work up.
I'm a little concerned we might have the beginnings of Sepsis
here, and, on
top of the Cellulitis and trying to recover from the gunshot
wound, well, I
don't want to be in this poor guy's shoes at the moment.
"We should notify his family about the new course of
treatment," Dr. Stewart
concluded.
"He doesn't have any family near here. His mother lives
in Greenwich, but she
won't come here," Kelly informed them. The nurse and doctor
looked at the
youngster with a amazement. They couldn't imagine how she was
able to wheedle
that information out of Mr. Mulder.
"You'd better call his partner. Her name is Scully, and
he really wants her
here, but she's in Lexington, Kentucky, finishing up the reports
from the case
he was just on. You know, the one where he was shot."
Once again, the two members of the medical staff stood in awe
of the mere wisp
of a child before them. Both them nodded in appreciation of the
information
the child provided, but then Leslie said, "Kelly, we are
most grateful for all
of this information. It will certainly help Mr. Mulder, I no
doubt. However,
you, my dear child, must get into bed and get some rest. Your
health is every
bit as precarious as Mr. Mulder's is right now, and you know
it," Leslie
admonished. "Now, off to bed with you, young lady. I mean
it."
Leslie Perkins looked at the petite figure before her. The
nurse was
experienced enough to know the adolescent didn't look upon her
with the same
feeling of comfort as perhaps she felt with Lin Hu, but Leslie
felt compassion
for the child nonetheless. She'd seen Kelly in the rehab center
more times
than anyone would have wanted. The number of tumors which needed
to be
removed never seemed to end, but of late, more and more were
finding their way
to Kelly's spinal cord.
However, the last tumor the doctors had found was the most
dangerous of all.
It was at the base of the skull, and it was growing inside of the
spinal cord
and up through to the brain matter.
And it was growing, quickly. Too quickly.
And it was inoperable.
And the child knew it was only a matter of time.
Leslie held her hand out to point her towards the door.
Kelly nodded and reluctantly turned around to leave the room.
Leslie,
however, called out to her before she left the room.
"Kelly!" The child paused at the door, but did not
turn around. "You did good
tonight, Kelly. Real, real good," she praised.
Kelly smiled slightly and then returned to her room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
4:15 a.m.
Mulder woke up in a frenzy. He felt alternately hot and then
chilled. His
head pounded from the fever, and he also felt as if he couldn't
catch his
breath. Though he knew he'd never be able to fall back to sleep
tonight,
Mulder felt so fatigued he seriously considered asking for a
sleeping pill.
He wished Scully was there with him. Scully would know what to
do to help
him. He didn't even realize he was calling her name aloud.
"Don't worry, Mulder. Scully will come," the child's voice said.
"Scully?" Mulder asked in confusion. "Scully, is that you?"
"No, Mulder. I'll call her. Do you want me to call her for you?"
"Scully. I want my Scully," he practically whimpered.
Kelly reached for the phone and dialed nine for an outside
line. She knew she
was taking a big chance in coming back into Mulder's room, but
she sensed he
needed someone, and since the doctor had told her she should have
an R.N. next
to her name, she figured she had every right to take on the role
seriously.
Besides, Kelly looked at Mulder's chart and saw a notation for
them to call
Scully in the morning.
They'd decided to wait to call her until the morning instead
of getting her
when Mulder needed her. Kelly decided that wasn't right. He
needed her now,
not hours from now.
"Mulder, what's Scully's phone number?" Kelly asked.
"Don't know. Don't know where she is," he mumbled.
"She's in Lexington, Kentucky, Mulder. But that doesn't
matter, does it?
Wouldn't Scully have a cell phone? What's her cell phone
number?" she asked
more firmly this time.
He mumbled a number, and Kelly quickly punched it in. When the
youngster
heard the ringing begin, it felt like her heart was dancing.
Finally, she
heard a voice say, "Scully. What's the matter, Mulder, you
couldn't sleep and
couldn't stand the thought of me actually getting some
shuteye?"
"Hello, Scully? My name is Kelly, and __." Scully
cut the child off
immediately.
"Who is this? How did you get this phone number?" she asked abruptly.
"I told you. My name is Kelly. Kelly Porter. I'm in the
same rehab joint as
Fox. Though I know he hates me calling him Fox, he doesn't really
care about
that right now."
"What do you mean? Is something wrong? Has something
happened to Mulder?"
Scully now asked anxiously.
"Yeah, Scully. He's got something called cellu_. Oh, I
don't know, it sounds
like cellulite, but his problem is definitely not fat
thighs," groused Kelly.
"Cellulitis? He's got Cellulitis? When? How?" Scully asked in confusion.
"Yeah, that's it. What the hell is it, anyway?" Kelly asked.
"It's basically a nasty inflammation of the connective
tissue of the skin,"
she recited in perfect textbook form, and then murmured more to
herself than
to Kelly, "probably a staphylococcus or maybe streptococcus
bacterial
infection."
"Oh," replied Kelly, not totally understanding everything Scully said.
"I'd just spoken to him last evening," said Scully
with frustration. "I don't
understand.""
"He didn't want to worry you," Kelly began to
explain, "so he didn't say
anything. He told me there wasn't anything you could do about it,
and it
would only make you feel bad, so he thought it was better to not
tell you
until you could come and visit him.
"But, Houston, we have a problem," Kelly continued.
"Damn him for keeping this to himself," cried out
Scully. "When is he ever
going to learn it's better not to keep things from me, even when
he thinks
he's protecting me?!" Then, she forced herself to push all
of her fears and
emotions aside to put on her doctor's hat. "What's wrong
with him, Kelly?
Didn't they start him on antibiotics?" Scully asked in an
attempt to clarify
his condition.
"Yeah, but they aren't working, and now the doctor is
worried about Septic
something," she answered.
"Sepsis? They're worried about Mulder developing Sepsis?
Oh, shit!" she
cried out.
"What?!" asked Kelly in alarm. "Is that worse than that cellulitis stuff?"
"Yes, Kelly. It's worse. It's life threatening if it's
not treated properly.
Damn it! This shouldn't have happened in the first place! How
could he have
been exposed to all of this bacteria and become infected? If he
develops
septic shock, someone has a whole lot of explaining to do. Damn
it," she
cursed in frustration.
"Okay," Scully continued, "I have to notify the
people here I need to skip out
on them, but tell Mulder I'm coming. Please. Tell him I'll be
there later
this morning, okay?"
"Yeah, Scully. I'll tell him, but I'm gonna hold the
phone to his ear and let
you tell him yourself," Kelly suggested.
"You're in his room with him? Right now?" Scully asked incredulously.
"Yeah."
"Thank you, Kelly. Thank you for being there for
him," Scully said from the
bottom of her heart.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
5:40 a.m.
When Leslie Perkins found Kelly back in Mulder's bedroom there
was hell to
pay. The nurse wasn't too pleased when Kelly also informed her
she'd already
called Scully, so there was no need to put in another call.
"Thank you, Miss Porter, but now it's time to let me do
my job, so the next
shift will have a better idea as to what they're dealing with. We
have to get
Mr. Mulder ready for transport," said Leslie.
"What? Where you transporting him?" Kelly asked aghast.
"Sweetheart, this is a rehabilitation center. He needs
more of an acute care
facility. He needs to be in a place where they're familiar with
his case.
He's not getting what he really needs here," Leslie said
gently.
"But, he can't go," Kelly lamented.
"He has to, dear. None of us has a choice in this. I need
to inform Miss
Scully he's going to be moved this morning back to University of
Maryland
Medical Center," she said before she left the room.
Kelly looked at Mulder forlornly and said, "I don't want you to go."
Mulder heard her, or rather he heard the sadness in her voice.
He desperately
wanted to connect with her again and let her know he understood.
He forced
himself to focus, and he became coherent for the first time in
hours.
"Hey, Kiddo, it'll be okay. When they clear up the damn
infection, they'll
transfer me back here so you can abuse me again, okay? Can't stay
away from
my best girl, now, can I?"
"Best girl? I thought Scully was your best girl,"
Kelly said. She was
fishing, and she knew it.
"Scully's my beautiful, best woman, but you are my
beautiful, best girl,"
Mulder replied softly.
Kelly looked at him with wide eyes. Did she just hear him say
what she
thought she'd heard him say?
Did he just call her 'beautiful?' No one had ever used that
word in the same
sentence with the name Kelly Porter. Never.
And now thanks to her new friend, Kelly Porter felt, for the
first time in her
life, beautiful.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
University of Maryland Medical Center
6:45 a.m.
Mulder was admitted and made as comfortable as possible in his
hospital bed in
the ICU. There were too many variables for them to consider
placing him in a
regular room on the medical ward.
First, he was still recovering from the gunshot wound to the
leg. Second, he
had Cellulitis, and was now certainly showing signs of Sepsis.
Finally, the
medical staff wanted the time to go over Mulder's charts from the
initial
gunshot wound with a fine tooth comb.
They wanted to be sure they did not play a role in this latest
bout with
infection. They feared they may have left themselves open to a
malpractice
suit, so they planned on treating Mr. Mulder with kid gloves from
this point
on.
Mulder continued to cry out for Scully, and on occasion, he
even tried calling
for Kelly. There was no one around to offer him a comforting
hand, and that
was what he longed for most at the moment.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
7:05 a.m.
Meanwhile, Scully was on her way back to Maryland. The
Lexington PD were not
too happy with her decision to leave before the internal
investigation was
completed, but Scully let it be known there was no alternative to
her
decision. She did inform them that as soon as Mulder was stable,
she would
return if she were still needed.
But at the moment, as she sat on the runway waiting for the
plane to take off,
Scully couldn't help but wonder if Murphy's Law was somehow
written
specifically for Mulder. It really did seem that if something
could go wrong
where Mulder was concerned, there was no doubt that it, indeed,
would.
It was a gunshot wound. Granted, gunshot wounds are never to
be taken
lightly, but it was certainly not nearly as serious as the one
he'd taken a
few years back. He hadn't lost nearly as much blood as he had
back then. The
bullet did do some damage to the muscle in the leg, hence the
need for rehab.
But as bullet wounds went, this one was routine.
Routine. Right. As if anything that affected Mulder was ever routine.
And now he was in a hospital bed in the throes of a horrible
infection. And
try as she might, she couldn't seem to get to him any faster than
a snail
could make it round the world, and it was frustrating the hell
out of her.
Scully sat in her seat and closed her eyes to say a silent
prayer. Maybe, if
nothing else worked, she could will the plane to take off.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
7: 15 a.m.
Kelly Porter laid in bed and felt a pain like she'd never felt
before. It
wasn't the physical pain; she was used to that. It was a feeling
in her heart
that caused her to feel queasy and lightheaded.
It was a feeling of helplessness and hopelessness, yet at the
same time she
felt an unmitigated joy. She was given a gift these last few days
that she'd
never thought she would possess.
She was blessed with a friend. A real friend, who saw beyond
the ugly tumors
and the horrible brown spots, crooked spine, and odd looking
facial features.
She'd found a real, true friend, whom she feared might be taken
away from her,
or at the very least, she feared she would not have the
opportunity to see him
again.
It was the former possibility that made her feel physically
ill. The latter
made her feel simply sad. For all of them.
But the fact that the headaches had begun again were probably
a good
indication the second scenario would be the more likely outcome.
She wondered
if she dared ask Lynn if there were any possible way she could
visit Mulder in
the hospital.
She'd have to be very careful in how she worded her request,
or she too might
land back in a hospital room. Now, if she could guarantee it was
UMMC, that
would be okay. But somehow she doubted it, and she knew they'd
simply bring
her back to Johns Hopkins, her usual haunt.
She was frustrated, as she really wanted to see if her friend
was okay. She
was frustrated, because she wasn't sure if she'd live long enough
to see that
he was.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
End of Part 3/4
Beauty's Beast
by Susan Proto (STPteach@aol.com)
Disclaimers in Part 1
Part 4/4
8:55 a.m.
Finally, Mulder fell asleep. He'd fallen into a deep sleep,
and should have
found some rest, but instead, his mind went into overdrive and he
dreamed. He
dreamed of the demons of his childhood, and of monsters, and of
Cher.
Cher? He couldn't imagine how Cher infiltrated his rem sleep,
but she did.
Mulder wanted to talk with her and find out how it came to be she
was able to
love Rocky so completely. But she shushed him and said in that
raspy, hoarse
tone so classically associated with Cher, "Oh Fox, don't you
know that's just
make believe? You can't possibly believe anyone could love
someone that
completely. It's impossible, Fox. It's impossible!"
"But you loved Rocky, didn't you?" he asked hopefully.
"Oh, honey! That wasn't really Rocky, now you know that.
That was Eric.
He's an actor. He was hired to play Rocky. It wasn't my job to
really love
Rocky. The real Rocky was dead long before that movie was filmed
anyway.
Surely you knew that?" she asked assuredly.
"What?" Mulder suddenly felt confused and out of
control. He didn't know
what to say. The one thing that had grounded him all these years
was his
ability to believe in extreme possibilities. What was more
extreme than
believing a woman could unconditionally love her imperfect child?
He'd always wanted to believe in that, but experience taught
him it wasn't
always possible. It wasn't right, of course. Parents are supposed
to love
their children, no matter what. It's what makes them parents, or
they
shouldn't be allowed to keep their children.
He knew his own parents shouldn't have been allowed to keep
him, especially
after Sam's disappearance. They'd forgotten how to love him with
all of his
imperfections. They'd forgotten it was their job to love him even
with all of
the blemishes on his character and soul.
Cher was supposed to love Rocky, but Rocky was dead, so what
was there to
love? It's easy to love an imperfection after it's been wiped
away. It's
dealing with the fault while it's still visible; still in plain
view.
"Kelly," he moaned. He needed to see Kelly. He had
to let her know she
wasn't an imperfection and that he never saw her as one.
"Kelly," he moaned
again. He had to tell her. She didn't know the truth. Kelly was
still
looking for Cher, but Rocky was dead, and it didn't matter
anymore. Cher
couldn't help her. Cher was simply an actress doing her job.
Mulder could help her though. But, Mulder felt as though he
was running out
of time. He needed to tell her, before their time ran out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
10:05 a.m.
Scully had been sitting by Mulder's bedside for almost forty
minutes, but he
was still in a deep sleep. When she'd first walked in, he was
mumbling
incoherently, though she was able to pick out the name 'Kelly'
and, oddly
enough, 'Cher'. She reached over to caress his cheek, when he
slowly began
opening his eyes.
"Good morning, Mulder. Long time no see," she said softly.
"Mornin'," he mumbled. He licked his lips and tried
to find some moisture to
wet them with, but he wasn't very successful. He watched Scully
reach over
him for the tray which held the pitcher of water and the cup and
straw.
Scully smiled as she watched his face practically glow with
anticipation over
taking a sip of the liquid. "Go slow, okay?" she
reminded as she placed the
straw to his lips. He followed orders beautifully and released
the straw from
his mouth. Mulder then laid his head back on the pillow and
whispered, "I'm
sorry."
"Sorry?" she echoed in surprise. "Mulder, what do you have to be sorry for?"
"For getting sick and making you come back here," he confessed.
"Oh, Mulder, how could you possibly have anticipated the
incision becoming
infected? C'mon, you had no control over that. Besides, I was
going crazy in
Lexington and was looking for an excuse to escape. Of course, a
call from our
illustrious AD with a new, more pressing case would have been a
much more
sensible way to 'spring' me, but you've never been one to be
sensible, have
you, Mulder?"
"No, I guess not. Umm, Scully? Can I ask you a
question?" When she nodded,
he asked, "Umm, I know this probably sounds absurd, but,
where am I?"
"UMMC," she replied. "The doctors over at the
Maryland Rehabilitation Center
felt they didn't have the capabilities to treat your infection or
any possible
complications, so they transferred you back to your original
placement."
"Oh." He couldn't hide his disappointment.
"What's wrong?" Scully asked.
"I was hoping I was still at the rehab center. I mean,
there's this kid there
who I've gotten kind of close to," he explained.
"Kelly?" she asked in confirmation.
"Yeah," he said and then looked up with a startled
expression. "How did you
know?"
"I spoke with her," she explained.
"You did? When?" he asked in confusion.
"Very, very early this morning. She'd apparently sneaked
into your room and
saw you were still running a fever. You were calling me and she
somehow
managed to pry my cell phone number out of you. I'm so glad you
work for the
FBI, Mulder. Chinese water torture wouldn't elicit information
from you, but
a teenage girl who bats her eyes at you will!" she chuckled
slightly as she
teased him.
Mulder didn't take the bait though which surprised Scully. She
figured for
sure he would have come up with some kind of sexual innuendo that
they could
have bantered back and forth. Instead, he looked away and
remained very
quiet.
"Mulder? Did I say something wrong? If I did, I'm
sorry." His head still
faced away from Scully, and she didn't understand what she'd done
to make him
look away. "Please, Mulder, what's wrong?"
Still facing away, he said, "I think she would have been
a very pretty girl."
He fell silent again.
"Who?" Scully asked after several moments had
passed. "Who would have been
very pretty?"
When Mulder turned his head again to face Scully, she could
see his eyes
brimming with tears. Scully felt as if her heart was going to
break when she
saw how saddened he felt. "Mulder, who would have been very
pretty?" He
remained silent, so Scully ventured an educated guess,
"Kelly?"
He nodded mutely, and the tears began to fall with equal
silence. Scully
pulled down the guard rail on the side of his good leg and
climbed on to the
bed and sat right next to him. She wrapped her arms around his
shoulders and
chest and asked quietly, "Can you tell me about her?"
He nodded, and after taking a few deep breaths he leaned into
Scully more and
began talking about the young girl he'd somehow grown very
attached to in only
a matter of hours. He told Scully about the conversation he'd had
with the
teen about the movie 'Mask' and Cher, (which now explained his
mumbling when
she'd first entered his room,) and the fact that he really didn't
see her
disabilities. She really was his beautiful, best girl, and he
wanted Scully
to get to know her.
Mulder really wanted to see her again for himself as well.
Kelly helped keep
him grounded when Scully wasn't there. "And besides
__," he began.
"Besides, what?" Scully asked.
"I'm afraid for her. I just have a feeling something is
terribly wrong, and I
need to see her again," he admitted.
"I'll call the rehab center, Mulder. I'll see what I can
do, okay?" she said.
Mulder nodded his thanks and then nestled into Scully for some
much needed
comfort.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
12:50 p.m.
Mulder had eventually fallen back to sleep and actually slept
peacefully for a
couple of hours. Scully had put in a call to her mother to let
her know that,
first, she was back in town, and second, she needed something
edible for both
her and Mulder at the hospital. Maggie Scully, like the cavalry,
arrived with
enough supplies to feed an entire unit.
Scully decided sharing the wealth with the nursing staff
wasn't a bad idea to
help insure a little extra TLC on their part. She figured they
could use it
as a credit for the time when Mulder started feeling better and
he made a
royal pest of himself.
While her mother was there to keep Mulder company, Scully
decided it was a
good time to call the rehab center to see if she could make
arrangements for
Kelly to visit Mulder. It seemed so important to Mulder; she
hoped there
wouldn't be a problem.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
2:05 p.m.
Scully sat on the chair, stunned. All she could think was, 'He
knew.' She
didn't understand it, but she knew in her heart, Mulder felt
something was
wrong, and he needed to see the child.
After Kelly'd left Mulder, earlier that morning, she'd
returned to her room.
She'd wheeled herself over to the desk that was provided and
pulled out her
journal. She'd started keeping one as soon as she'd learned how
to write, and
she'd found it to be a great tension reliever. Whenever people
were unkind to
her or showed their ignorance of how to behave like a member of
the human
race, Kelly had often written her thoughts down in the journal.
She'd already
filled eight of them, and was nearly finished with this one too.
She knew it would be the last journal she would ever keep, so
she wanted to be
sure she recorded her final thoughts in a careful manner. And she
knew just
what she was going to write. Her best friend gave her the words;
all she
needed to do was write them down.
She wrote, "Dear Journal, It has been an interesting day
and night. My new
friend, Fox (who hates that name, and wants me to call him
Mulder, so I do to
his face, but I _LIKE_ the name Fox, so I'll call him Fox here,
okay,
Journal?) is still very sick. They keep treating him with
different
antibiotics, but they don't seem to be working. I don't
understand why he's
still sick.
"I went into his room again tonight, cause I knew he was
scared. It's
strange, Journal, but it's almost like I could read his mind. I
mean, I
didn't actually know what he was thinking; it was more like I
knew how he was
feeling. And he was feeling so bad! So sick! I had to go back in
there.
"And then I got him to give me Skully's (or is it
Scully?) phone number. I
talked to her, Journal. At first she didn't sound very nice, but
then, then
when I told her Fox wasn't feeling well and he needed her, she
sounded so
different. She loves him, Journal. Just like he loves her, she
loves him. I
hope they tell one another soon. When people love each other, it
shouldn't be
a secret.
"So, Mrs. Perkins shushed me out of his room after I'd
told her we phoned
Scully. She wasn't too pleased with me, but I think because she
doesn't want
me to get sick too. Everyone knows that's gonna happen sooner or
later, but
they're all so hell bent on prolonging the inevitable. Oh well, I
was too
tired to argue. I didn't get too much sleep tonight, Journal.
"Anyway, I was real upset when Mrs. Perkins told me they
were moving Fox to
the hospital. I didn't want him to go. I wanted him to stay here,
with me.
But Mrs. Perkins explained he couldn't get better here, so I
didn't argue
anymore.
"But Fox knew I was sad. I don't know how he knew; he was
hardly awake, but
he knew. He called Scully his beautiful, best woman, but he
called me his
beautiful, best girl. That's okay. I'm willing to share.
"He called me beautiful, Journal. I didn't think I'd ever
hear that said
about me. I didn't think I'd ever care whether it was said about
me or not,
but now that it was, I care. I really do care, Journal.
"I am beautiful. I am Fox Mulder's beautiful, best girl.
I feel beautiful
for the first time in my life.
"I feel happy for the first time in my life.
"I can die happy now, Journal.
"Love always, Kelly."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kelly had been transferred to Johns Hopkins, where she'd been
treated in the
past for her Neurofibromatosis. The tumor on the base of her
skull had grown
so much, it began strangling her spinal cord and the brain tissue
at the base
of her skull. Suddenly, and without warning, Kelly lost
consciousness as a
result of the tumor's stranglehold on her lifeline.
They'd rushed her over to Johns Hopkins in an ambulance in the
hope their
medical team would be able to do something to reverse the
effects.
But they were too late.
Kelly Preston, age fourteen, died at 10:25 a.m. of
complications from
Neurofibromatosis. Ironically, it was about the same time Mulder
had told
Scully he was afraid for his beautiful, best girl.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
1:30 p.m.
Scully had done everything in her power to cleanse her eyes of
the redness.
She wasn't sure if now was the right time to tell Mulder of
Kelly's death.
She didn't want to keep something as important as this from him,
but she
didn't want to cause him any added stress that could hamper his
healing
process.
It didn't matter what options she considered though, because
as soon as she
walked through the door, Mulder knew something was wrong. Mulder
sensed a
change in her, and it discomforted him.
Maggie Scully knew something wasn't quite right also, but she
didn't know what
she could do about it. The best thing, she thought, was to give
her daughter
and her partner some privacy so they could deal with it. She
quietly excused
herself.
"You phoned the rehab center, didn't you?" he asked somewhat rhetorically.
"Yes."
"She can't come, can she," he said, more in the form
of a statement rather
than a question.
"No, Mulder, she can't come."
He looked at Scully, and within an instant, understanding came
immediately.
He gasped and grasped the sheets with both of his hands as
tightly as he'd
ever held anything before. "Scully!" he cried out, and
she ran to him. He
continued to hold on to the bed covers for dear life. He was so
afraid of
letting go, for he felt if he did, he'd go tumbling into despair
without any
hope of ever climbing back up out of it.
"Oh, Mulder," Scully whispered into his ear as she
embraced him and held him
tightly to her, "I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry."
He couldn't hold it in any longer. He didn't know how to
control it. He
didn't want to control it at this point. Mulder felt so much
love, so quickly
and so deeply for that child, and the thought that he wasn't ever
going to get
the chance to tell her that was absolutely devastating to him.
He began to sob, great, huge, gasps of emotion. And Scully
held him and gave
him as much physical support as her own small body could provide,
and as much
emotional support as her huge heart could offer.
She rubbed his back in circular motions, and she cooed in his
ear that it was
okay; he would be okay. She held him, and she rocked him, and he
wept until
there were no more tears. He laid quietly in his Scully's arms
and allowed
himself to be held and comforted.
After much time had passed, Mulder finally spoke. "All
she wanted was people
to see her for who she was."
Scully nodded gently, which she was sure Mulder could feel as
her head rested
on top of his. When he remained quiet, Scully offered in a
whisper, "You did
that for her, Mulder."
"I wish I knew that for sure, Scully," and she felt
his breathing hitch a
little.
"Oh, Mulder, you did. You have no idea what you did for
that young woman.
You made her feel something she never, ever thought she would
feel.
"You did something very, very special for her, my
wonderful, sensitive,
compassionate Mulder."
Mulder looked up at Scully, the tears still quite evident in
both of their
eyes. "What did I do for her, Scully? I didn't get enough of
a chance to say
all the things I wanted to say," he lamented.
"Oh, Sweetheart, but you got the chance to say the
important things. She knew
she was important to you. You let her know that in no uncertain
terms.
"And Mulder, you made her feel beautiful. And happy. You
made her feel
beautiful, and I swear, Mulder, she died happy. You did that for
her, my
love. You did a great and wonderful thing."
"I hope so, Scully. God, I wanted her to know she
deserved her Cher. I
really wanted her to know that."
"She knew, Mulder. Kelly knew." Scully reached
around Mulder and drew him
closer to her. They sat like that for many more minutes, and when
he suddenly
felt a fleeting sense of joy, he knew it was Kelly letting him
know Scully
told the truth.
Mulder finally decided he could believe, because he always
searched for the
truth, where ever it could be found.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
End of Part 4/4