Category:  Vignette/Angst
Spoilers:  Redux and Redux II
Summary:  How DID Mulder figure out Scully was in the hospital?
Disclaimer:  All characters are the property of the FOX Network and the gang
at 1013(especially the Big Kahuna)...no infringement is intended.

Archive:  Wherever, as long as my name stays attached, and I know about it.

Dedication:  This one's for Lesley who inspired it and wouldn't let me forget
it, and the Screamers whose support and nagging got me to post this.  The
ending is for Sherrie.

Feedback:  Wouldn't miss it for the world.

XOXOXOXOXOXXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

For a man who had had his share of bad nights, Fox Mulder would always put
this one right up there.  Or down there as the case may be.

He was supposed to be dead.  Dead to all but a precious few, Scully and his
only other friends, Byers, Langly and Frohike.  Oh, and Kristgau.

He hoped that word hadn't reached his mother.  But, he couldn't afford to
think of that right now.  Right now, his entire focus, his entire life, was
in the small vial that he had lifted from the basement of the Pentagon.

Unable to keep still, he paced the offices of the Lone Gunmen, content to
allow Byers to do whatever it is he did with the contents of the vial.  When
Byers told him that it was nothing but de-ionized water, Mulder thought he
could sink no further.

<De-ionized  water?  That's supposed to be Scully's cure!  Are you sure,
Byers?  Are you sure there's nothing else in there? Look!>

Mulder stood there stunned.

Langly tried to make him feel better.  "Look, Mulder, maybe we don't have the
proper equipment to test this.  Maybe there's something in here that our
stuff can't see."

"Thanks, Langly, but if your equipment can't detect it, no hospital treating
 Scully could.  I guess we just start over, " Mulder mumbled.

God bless the geeks, they tried to take his mind off of his problems.  They
kept him occupied for most of the evening with theories on how much Kristgau
had told him was true and how much could have been fabricated.  They puzzled
out how he was going to resurrect himself and when.  When they had exhausted
those subjects, they turned to figuring out what they could do next to try
and help Scully. The Gunmen had spent time helping Mulder find a cure - to no
avail.

Meanwhile, at 15 minute intervals, Mulder rang Scully's phone.  Then her
cellphone.  He knew that the Gunmen's phone was the closest thing he would
ever have to a secure line. While he needed to see her, he couldn't risk
going to her apartment again.  They would be watching.  But, he knew she
would be able to get to him here.

<Why didn't we plan a meeting place?  What were we thinking?>

And yet, still no answer.

He understood the home phone going unanswered.  Mulder had told her that he
swept her apartment while he waited for her last night, but that didn't mean
that they couldn't get in while she was out today. Scully knew that, and
would be careful when answering her phone.

<Let's try the cell again.>

No answer on the cell either.  Scully always answered her cell.  She knew it
was the only way for him to get a hold of her.

He paced and dialed, paced and dialed.

<If I hear that stupid mobile phone recording one more time...where the hell
are you, Scully?>

Mulder was powerless.  While being a deadman had certain freedoms, it also
had certain restrictions.  Like the fact that he couldn't call the FBI and
ask to speak to Agent Scully. He was sure she'd be under even more scrutiny.

<What the hell happened at that hearing? Could something have happened to
her?  Was her lie exposed and she's now in jail? Dammit!>

Maybe he should try her mother.  Scully wouldn't have had time to tell her
mother that Mulder was dead, let alone undead in the past day - so it
wouldn't be weird to call.   But what would he say?  Why isn't your daughter
answering her phone?

<Probably best not to risk it.>

As his agitation grew, so did his pacing. Pretty soon, the conversation had
drifted off to nothing.  Byers was surfing the net looking into the latest
cures for cancer, Langly was working on final edits of the latest Gunman and,
 Frohike?  Well, who knew what Frohike was doing.  Other than their busy
work, the only sound was that police scanner that Frohike never turned off.

"Never know when you're going to hear the next best thing, Mulderman,"
Frohike had once told him when he asked why they always had that blaring.

Next best thing.  That's it.

Mulder could never understand the voyeuristic attachment Frohike had to that
damned scanner, but after that night, he'd never mock the little guy again.

Because that scanner was simultaneously his best friend and his worst enemy.

It was like a dramatic moment in a melodramatic movie...all other sounds
suddenly faded as the scanner blared into the now silent room.

<Squawk>...Ambulance dispatch from FBI headquarters to Trinity Hospital.  We
have a female, mid 30s, unconscious with a nosebleed.  She looks bad,
gentlemen, better hurry.....<Squawk>

He knew.  The description was sketchy, but he knew.

And, lies and deception aside, he had to go.

It was time to resurrect Fox William Mulder.

He had to get to Scully.  He must get to Scully.  He had to get to Scully.

It pounded through his head like a mantra...keeping time with his footsteps
as he walked down the hospital corridor.

She was here.

He knew it.

Lord help him, he was almost afraid to find her.

Afraid of what he would find.

THE END