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Prozac days and wasted Knights
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Title: Prozac Days and Wasted Knights 
                           
                           Author: Pattie
                           
                           Rated: NC-17 for graphic imagery and inappropriate
                           behavior.
                           
                           Category: MSR, UST, X, SA, MA, MT.
                           
                           Summary: Scully is called away on a family emergency
                           as a post-case depressed Mulder is sent to a doctor
                           and prescribed Prozac.
                           
                           
                           Spoilers: Season 6.
                           
                           Archive: Gossamer.  Anyone else just ask and I will 
                           probably answer "yes".
                           
                           Feedback: trish59@444.net
                           
                           Disclaimer: Mulder, Scully, any other X-Files original
                           characters and The X-Files belong to Chris Carter, 
                           Ten Thirteen Productions, and Fox Studios. I have not
                           been reimbursed, favored, tipped, or treated in any 
                           way, shape or form.  No copyright infringement is
                           planned, premeditated, concocted, invented, intended,
                           or whatever else the thesaurus says.  I just LOVE to
                           pay tribute and salute these fine characters.
                           
                           2360 HEGAL PLACE
                           ALEXANDRIA,VA 
                           3:30 A.M.
                           
                           Mulder anxiously paced his apartment in his shorts
                           and tee shirt in the darkness of his livingroom. Sure,
                           he was a constant insomniac, but tonight there was more 
                           to his sleepnessness.  He and Scully had just 
                           investigated one of the most depraved serial killers of 
                           the decade, if not the century.  As he paced, the grizzly
                           images of human bodies piled into a cabin outside of 
                           Raleigh still flashed through his mind in one long,
                           repetitive slide-show.
                           
                           "It was my fault he killed as many people as he did," 
                           he had shouted to Scully, as they were driving to the
                           airport to fly home.  "Eleven victims, and six could 
                           have been prevented if I had just followed my... "
                           
                           "Mulder, there's no possible way you could have even 
                           suspected Ron Holly, a Presbyterian Minister.  There
                           was nothing in his demeanor to indicate... "
                           
                           "Scully, you have always said to go on solid evidence
                           and not "feelings" and "hunches". Well, I ignored the
                           hunches and the evidence pointed toward some teenage kid 
                           who was a boyfriend of that minister's daughter. He was 
                           victim number eight, as I was sketching my little profile 
                           on my yellow pad in my motel room."
                           
                           "You're being too hard on yourself, Mulder. You can't
                           be perfect.  None of us can. You need some sleep. I 
                           know you didn't sleep the past three nights," she said
                           softly.  "Give yourself a break.  For all our sakes."
                           
                           "We have a remarkable record, Scully.  We've solved 
                           more cases like this than any of the other agents. 
                           Let's just get home."
                           
                           That was the end of the conversation. During the flight,
                           he didn't utter another word.  He went over his case 
                           notes several times, and just convinced himself of what 
                           he considered obvious: Fox Mulder had screwed up.
                           
                           Scully knew better than to disturb him. She decided 
                           perhaps he needed some quiet time, and that's what he
                           was going to have.
                           
                           Once back home, Mulder and Scully headed straight for
                           their respective apartments. Mulder was just in the 
                           door when the phone rang.
                           
                           "Mulder."
                           
                           "Mulder, it's me.  I just got a message that Mom broke 
                           her leg.  Skinner says I can use the two weeks I have
                           coming in vacaton time, and Mom needs me.  Mulder?"
                           
                           "Yeah. Take care of your mother, Scully. At least 
                           it'll get YOUR mind off of this damn mess."
                           
                           "Mulder, it's not a mess. We still caught the perp and 
                           it's finished.  I faxed my report to the office, and 
                           I'm on my way out.  Now, get some sleep and take a few 
                           days off. Okay?"
                           
                           "Yeah.  Sure.  Better get going, Scully. Say "Hi" for
                           me."
                           
                           "I will. Bye." Scully wasn't sure her partner was
                           going to be able to put the case out of his thoughts, 
                           but she reluctantly hung up and packed her bags.
                           
                           ***
                           
                           But Mulder didn't take the time to recoup his sleep or
                           energy. The constant barrage of images in photos and
                           at the cabin haunted his days and nights. This night 
                           was about the worst he had had in a long time. 
                           
                           It was 4:32 a.m. when he decided to take a run. "Maybe
                           that will clear my mind," he reasoned. However, even
                           the "runner's high" from pushing his body to the limit
                           was not enough to chase the ghosts away.
                           
                           FBI HEADQUARTERS,
                           WSHINGTON, D.C.
                           8:30 A.M.
                           
                           Although he had showered and shaved, he looked absolutely
                           enhausted. The tell-tale dark circles around his eyes, 
                           and his blood-shot eyeballs were hidden behind sunglasses
                           when he entered the office.  After he removed them and 
                           hung his jacket on the rack, he retrieved several faxes
                           from the machine, and took Scully's report straight
                           to the desk. Was he going to read it, or not? He knew
                           better.  He really did. He ignored another hunch. A hunch 
                           that this was not going to make his day any more bearable.
                           He'd almost forgotten just what a bearable day was, since 
                           about six days ago, and he sat there reliving every
                           call they'd received at the motel, every crime scene, and
                           every image of macerated, mutilated, amputated and even 
                           ground, yes, ground like hamburger, organ tissue. A man of
                           the cloth invested in such evil had reduced Mulder's
                           self-esteem to even lower levels.
                           
                           He was absolutely convinced he had no business smiling, 
                           resting, tasting, enjoying comfort.  After several hours
                           of gorging on the horrible incidents over and over, he
                           stood and trashed the office.  File cabinets were emptied,
                           pictures torn off of the walls, even the paper shredder
                           suffered the wrath of Mulder. He threw the last of his 
                           cold morning coffee across the room and watched it splatter 
                           onto the window sill.  Then, he threw a paperweight through 
                           the window.
                           
                           A maintenance man who had been passing the office looked in
                           on him during his wild frenzy, and gently closed the door
                           and caled Skinner and security.
                           
                           Mulder had sunken into his chair in a daze by the time 
                           Skinner and two other men reached the office.  Skinner 
                           noticed that Mulder had not stirred when they arrived, so 
                           he motioned for security to leave.
                           
                           "Agent Mulder? Are you going to answer me?  Mulder?" The 
                           man wasn't sure what to say or do next.  Still, he 
                           approached Mulder cautiously and took a seat in front of 
                           the desk. "Scully called me this morning.  She was quite 
                           concerned about you. This case.  Tell me what I can do."
                           
                           "Do," Mulder repeated. His faze was fixed at some point on
                           the wall across from his desk. "Do."
                           
                           "Look, I'm down here as a friend, not just your superior.
                           At first, I thought Scully was just being overly protective,
                           but now I know there's something wrong."
                           
                           "Wrong." Mulder's voice was hoarse and low. "Everything was
                           wrong."
                           
                           "You got him, Mulder. He'll never see the light of day 
                           again.  That's what you and Scully did. It's over and done 
                           with."
                           
                           "Really." There was that glazed stare and monotone voice 
                           that lacked sincerity.
                           
                           Skinner's cell phone broke the silence between the men. 
                           "Shinner. Yes. Okay, I think it would be a good time. We
                           can do that. Right."
                           
                           "Who was that?  Scully and her Pollyanna *everything's
                           gonna be all right* pep talk?" From silence to sarcasm. At
                           any other time that would have been a sign Mulder was all 
                           right.  But this time, it wasn't.
                           
                           "No.  Just someone arranging a meeting with me. Look, to
                           be honest, I'm very worried about you.  You show all the 
                           signs of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder."
                           
                           He stood and towered over Skinner. "PTSD my ass!" Mulder 
                           yelled wildly, as he pounded his deak.  "You don't know
                           anything about what happened out there! You don't know
                           what I saw and you're just here to make everything worse.
                           So, you can just go right back upstairs and... "
                           
                           At that moment, two EMS paramedics arrived with a gurney, 
                           and quickly strapped Mulder down. One of them had 
                           pre-filled a syinge, and quickly sedated Mulder. "It's
                           just to relax him till we get to the hospital, Mr. 
                           Skinner. Is there anyone who can fill out the forms,
                           speak on his behalf?"
                           
                           "Yes," Skinner answered quietly. "I'll go with you."
                           
                           GEORGETOWN UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL
                           7:30 PM                              
                           
                           Skinner didn't want to have Scully worrying over her
                           partner as well as her mother, so he decided not to call
                           her until Mulder had settled down and a proper treatment
                           plan was decided upon. Besides, he could tell by having
                           read the report he had taken from Mulder's desk, that 
                           she needed some time with her mother, away from work. It
                           wasn't that he thought she wouldn't be able to handle 
                           news of her partner's condition. She was just best left
                           to heal her own wounds and needed the break.
                           
                           It was well after the supper hour when a doctor emerged 
                           from Mulder's cubicle.  "Mr. Skinner? I'm Dr. Ogilvey.
                           I'm a psychiatrist."  Oglivey was very tall compared to
                           Skinner.  He appeared to be about 55, and had salt and 
                           pepper hair.  There was a youthfullness in his stance and
                           disposition, which told Skinner he was an optimist.
                           
                           Skinner stood and the men shook hands. "Yes.  How is
                           Agent Mulder?"
                           
                           "He's resting comfortably right now. We want to keep him
                           overnight for observation. I thought I would sedate him
                           enough to give him some sleep. You told us earlier his
                           partner was concerned he hadn't slept in at least three
                           days? That he was obsessed with a rather gruesome serial 
                           murderer and his arrest?"
                           
                           "Yes.  Frankly, as I understand it, severe sleep loss can
                           have some strange effects on people."
                           
                           "You're right, SIr.  People who haven't slept at all for
                           even a few nights tend to have hallucinations, feelings of 
                           unreality, heightened anxiety and may become estremely 
                           agitated.  With some rest, and perhaps therapy in his
                           case, he can return to his regular self. I know he was
                           exposed to a very traumatic investigation. Tomorrow,
                           staff will assess his conditon further.  I suggest you go 
                           home and come back in the morning.  You'll be called if 
                           anything happens."
                           
                           Shinner wasn't exactly convinced nothing would happen, but 
                           her nodded. "All right. I've left my home and office 
                           numbers with the front desk. Does he need anything from 
                           home?"
                           
                           "No. We'd prefer he didn't have anything that... "
                           
                           "I understand, Doctor.  I'll be at home all night."
                           
                           
                           GEORGETOWN UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL
                           10:00 A.M.
                           
                           When Skinner returned the next morning, he was told Mulder 
                           had been transferred to the psychiatric ward. Sure, it had
                           often been the subject of jokes around the halls at the
                           FBI, but people knew that Mulder was solidly sane when it
                           came to doing the job.
                           
                           Skinner pressed the buzzer outside the ward.
                           
                           "Yes?" A nurse asked via speaker.
                           
                           "Walter Skinner to see Fox Mulder. I brought him to 
                           Emergency yesterday."
                           
                           "Thank you."
                           
                           The doors were electronically unlocked, and as he entered,
                           he saw a woman talking to a wall, two visitors chatting in 
                           a common room, and a very thin young woman trying her best
                           to smile for her sister, who knew the girl was not eating.
                           He passed a schizophrenic swatting at something imaginary,
                           and wondered how anyone could visit here without feeling
                           the world had turned upside down.  After all, Mulder was
                           here. He reached room 427, and walked in. 
                           
                           Mulder was awake.  Calm but sombre.
                           
                           "Mulder?"
                           
                           "Yeah, that's me." There was a lack of liveliness that 
                           stunned Skinner. "Sit down.  Watch the world go by in all
                           it's darkness."
                           
                           "Mulder, do you remember anything about yesterday?"
                           
                           "Most. Up until I did a tap dance on the Holly case.  Some
                           case."
                           
                           "Yes, you and Scully did a fine job nabbing him."
                           
                           "A fine mess," Mulder whispered. "Where was I when victims 
                           six through eleven went through the meat grinder, huh? I
                           was going by the book, writing up my little thumbnail sketch
                           of who would do such a thing. I'm *Spooky Mulder*, not *By 
                           The Book Mulder*. Well, Walter! Wanna kick my ass? Go 
                           ahead."
                           
                           "No, I don't want to do that. Have you been seen by the
                           doctor, yet?"
                           
                           "Yeah.  He said I'd be a great story teller. I mean, my 
                           expressiveness is just awe inspiring."
                           
                           
                           "Mulder, cut the sarcastic crap. At times that's the real 
                           you, but this time you are having problems. We all want to 
                           help you. You have to let us do that."
                           
                           "Yeah, I'll bet. The Tin Man, The Scarecrow and Dorothy, 
                           too. So, is the red-head still at her mother's?"
                           
                           "She doesn't know about this."
                           
                           "Good. Keep it that way." Mulder turned away from Skinner.
                           
                           Dr. Ogilvey walked in with Mulder's chart. "Good morning,
                           Mr. Mulder. I see you finally had a good sleep."
                           
                           "Yeah. Just like a fuzzy little baby kitten: All curled up 
                           and harmless."
                           
                           "Could you please turn around so I can see you?"
                           
                           Mulder moved his head back. "Okay. So, when do I get to 
                           go home?"
                           
                           "Well, it says here you didn't eat breakfast."
                           
                           "Wasn't hungry."
                           
                           "You seem almost expressionless, Mr. Mulder. I know you've
                           been through hell.  You were talking in your sleep last 
                           night.  Those must have been some really violent 
                           nightmares."
                           
                           "Well, there ya go.  I'm back to my old self, Doc. So, 
                           spring me outta here and I'll just get back... "
                           
                           "Hold on now, Mr. Mulder.  We want to keep you here one more
                           day.  I have someone who specializes in PTSD, and I think you 
                           should see him. Before you pooh-pooh the idea, consider your 
                           friend here and the person you were calling out for all 
                           night."
                           
                           Mulder closed his eyes. "Just... don't call her right now.
                           She has enough on her mind. If I stay here and talk to your
                           colleague, then can I go home tomorrow?"
                           
                           "We'll make that decision tomorrow. Mr. Skinner. I'd like
                           to speak with you a minute."
                           
                           The doctor led Skinner out of the room. "I realize most of 
                           the files he has on this particular case are confidential,
                           but can you at least give me a rough idea of what we're up 
                           against here?"
                           
                           Skinner didn't really know what to say. He had not been able
                           to finish reading the case reports, and only knew of one 
                           person who could fill in the blanks. "Doctor Ogilvey, I
                           can't release the case file to you, but I can put you in 
                           touch with his partner, Dana Scully. She's also a doctor."
                           
                           "Well, if he was calling out for her, maybe she can help 
                           him," Ogilvey suggested.
                           
                           "She's been through hell these past few weeks, too.  She is
                           taking a couple of weeks off, and attending to a family 
                           matter. Look, just don't tell her what's been happening
                           in living color.  She needs this time away. I can't have
                           two agents breaking down on me."
                           
                           "I'm a professional, Mr. Skinner. I think I can word things 
                           in such a way as to find out what is going on, and then 
                           assure her that it's... all right to be out of town."
                           
                           Skinner pulled out a writing pad, pen, and a piece of paper
                           whick had Scully's mother's number written on it. "This is 
                           the number where you can reach her. Please just ask for the 
                           facts and I can only hope she doesn't run right back. That's
                           for both their sakes. Understand?"
                           
                           "I do. Believe me, I've been there, only in a different 
                           setting.  We're going to keep your friend on sedatives in
                           the meantime.  He needs as much rest as he can get. We're
                           monitoring him closely.  He's on Q-15."
                           
                           "What?"
                           
                           "Every fifteen minutes, a nurse checks in on him. So far, 
                           there's been no problem. Don't worry. I think he's actually
                           faring better than last night."
                           
                           "All right. I'll be by later in the day. You have my private
                           line. I'd better get to work. Thanks for everything, Doctor 
                           Ogilvey."
                           
                           "My job." The doctor's beeper went off, and Skinner asked
                           the nurse to let him out of the ward.
                           
                           ***
                           
                           HOME OF MARGARET SCULLY
                           11:45 A.M.
                           
                           Scully was still thinking about Mulder and the guilt he
                           had been feeling over the case in Raleigh, as she leafed
                           through an old photo album of her father's.  The picture of 
                           a seven-year-old Bill Scully bore a remarkable resemblance 
                           to Bill Jr. at that age. She smiled warmly. Fond memories 
                           of her father's stories of his childhood coursed through
                           her mind, as she wiped a tear from her eye. "Miss you,
                           Ahab. I can't believe it's been six years. " Then, her 
                           thoughts returned to her other Ahab. "Mulder," she whispered.
                           "I hope you got some sleep." She closed the album and headed 
                           downstairs to the livingroom. To her surprise, Tara and
                           little Matthew had arrived and were sitting with Margaret
                           Scully.
                           
                           "Tara! It's so god to see you.  You look great!"
                           
                           "Well, what's been happening, Dana? Your mother was just
                           telling me you took two weeks off to help!"
                           
                           "I needed some time away from work anyway, and when they 
                           called about her leg, I thought I'd come down and spend 
                           some time here.  Is Bill back?"
                           
                           "He's still somewhere in the Pacific," Margaret replied.
                           "I'm always glad to see my two favorite girls and my handsome 
                           grandson."
                           
                           "Well, I guess I'll make us some lunch, then. It's almost 
                           noon. Maybe Matthew would like to help Auntie Dana?"
                           
                           "May I Mom?"
                           
                           "Sure, honey.  But don't eat anything until she's done. 
                           Okay?"
                           
                           "I know, Mom."
                           
                           As Scully took her nephew by the hand into the kitchen, 
                           Tara's smile faded. "Mom?  What's wrong? Dana doesn't seem
                           herself."
                           
                           "Tara, there are some things she sees in her line of work
                           which are just... well, even worse than gets out on the 
                           news. I think she's more worried about Fox than she is about 
                           whatever they were investigating."
                           
                           "She's very fond of Fox. We all know that. I'm sure he's
                           all right."
                           
                           "Well, I'm not. She came out here to look after me. Don't
                           get me wrong, I love seeing my baby.  But I can still do
                           a lot of things with one good leg. It's just a hairline
                           fracture.  I think I'll have a little talk with her after 
                           lunch. I'm pretty sure she should be at her apartment. I
                           know she needs to do a lot whenever she is there."
                           
                           "Maybe she doen't want to see Fox suffering what she's
                           going through. Has she said anything?"
                           
                           "Only a little about a horrible serial killer, some of the 
                           things he did. She was tossing and turning last night. I
                           had to get up to take a pain pill. Come to think of it, I
                           bet she didn't sleep at all."
                           
                           "Well," Tara said quietly, "We'll be here a few days. Maybe
                           she should rest after lunch."
                           
                           Margaret thought for a minute.  "Maybe she should go home 
                           tonight.  If she can get some rest, she can leave after
                           dinner. I just have this feeling... " Margaret Scully
                           sensed that her daughter was very strong, and that her 
                           partner needed her. She was certain her daughter had 
                           concerns about Fox Mulder.
                           
                           It was about three in the afternoon when the phone rang 
                           at Margaret Scully's home. "Scully residence."
                           
                           "May I speak with Dana Scully?" It was Doctor Ogilvey.
                           
                           "She's sleeping right now, Doctor. I won't wake her up
                           for anyone right now.  I will take a message." So stern, so
                           insistent.
                           
                           "I'm calling regarding a recent case she was investigating.
                           Would you please tell her I need some information."
                           
                           "Yes, I'll do that.  You're at which hospital?"
                           
                           "Georgetown University."
                           
                           "All right.  As soon as she wakes up, I'll ask her to
                           call you." Margaret turned to Tara as she hung up the 
                           phone. "I think Dana needs to leave tonight. My instincts 
                           were right. Fox isn't well. I just have this nagging 
                           feeling she should be there."
                           
                           ***
                           
                           GEORGETOWN UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL,
                           4:30 P.M.
                           
                           Mulder's session with the Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder 
                           specialist was rocky at best, and that was to be expected.
                           Dr. Ogilvey spoke to the specialist in a meeting at about 
                           3:30.
                           
                           Velding was approaching 40, brunette and blue eyed. He
                           met up with Dr. Ogilvey at the Mursing Station.
                           
                           "Doctor Velding, what's your impression on Mr. Mulder?"
                           
                           "Well, I think he has a lot of survivor guilt. He also
                           shows classic signs of depression.  I'd prescribe Prozac,
                           to be increased next week, and he would benefit from a
                           few counselling sessions here or at the FBI Employee
                           Services Office. If he has a good night, I think we can
                           release him tomorrow. This guy has more problems than 
                           that TV guy they write about at Rogue Agent's Sanctuary."
                           
                           "Okay, I don't care what you do in your spare time. Frank.
                           I have a call in to his partner. Apparently the case was 
                           hard on her as well. She should be calling back later. I
                           want to hear from her before I decide what to do."
                           
                           Skinner arrived that evening to check on Mulder. While
                           he seemed more at ease, he still appeared bewildered
                           and uninterested in anything. "I hear you night be
                           released tomorrow. That's good news, Mulder."
                           
                           "Yeah.  I feel better sleeping on my couch anyway. I
                           hope Scully's doing better than I am."
                           
                           "I haven't heard from her, Mulder. This is her chance to
                           recover from what the two of you went through out there.
                           If she calls, can I tell her... "
                           
                           "No.  Don't get her back here for me.  I've taken her way
                           down the road with nothing but futile attempts at making
                           life safe for the American public. Maybe she'll see the 
                           light and resign. I sure as hell wouldn't stop her."
                           
                           ***
                           
                           HOME OF MARGARET SCULLY
                           11:00 P.M.
                           
                           Scully slept from 2:00 in the afternoon and didn't awaken
                           until 11:00 that night. Since her mother didn't want to 
                           disturb her clearly exhausted daughter, there was a note 
                           left on her pillow.
                           
                           "Dana, dear. A doctor Ogilvey at Georgetown U Hospital
                           called. He wanted to speak with you about your last case.
                           I didn't want to wake you."
                           
                           "Mulder!" Scully gasped. As she gathered her belongings 
                           and began to pack, her mother walked past her room. When
                           she noticed the light on, she opened the door.
                           
                           "Dana? I was just about to... well, I thought yoe were going 
                           to sleep the night, so I was going to nake sure you weren't
                           hungry, or having a rough time like last night."
                           
                           "No, Mom. I got your message.  I think I should go back
                           to D.C. That was a long sleep I had, and I can't go back to
                           sleep knowing Mulder's in trouble.  That's the only reason
                           I can think a doctor there would want to talk to me about 
                           the case in Raleigh."
                           
                           "Honey, I was going to suggest you leave tonight if you 
                           were up, anyway.  A mother knows. Tara's here for three
                           weeks. We'll be fine. Do you want anything before I go
                           to bed."
                           
                           "I'll be fine, Mom. I'll grab something on the way home."
                           Scully kissed her mother. "Good night, Mom."
                           
                           "Good night, dear. Drive safely."
                           
                           As her mother closed the bedroon door, Scully was more
                           determined than ever to find out how her partner was feeling.
                           She tried to call his apartment, but there was no answer.
                           His answering nachine tape had been filled. Now, she knew 
                           where her partner was, and she needed to be there.
                           
                           ***
                           
                           2360 HEGAL PLACE
                           ALEXANDRIA,VA 
                           1:15 AM
                           
                           Scully hadn't bothered to go home just yet. She wanted
                           to check Mulder's place to see if he had arrived home.
                           Using her key to the apartment, she went into his home 
                           hoping he would be there. The place was dark, and his travel
                           bag still on the floor beside the couch.
                           
                           The light on his fish tank was on, and she reasoned they may 
                           not have been fed. She shook some food into the tank, then 
                           went to his desk. It was dusty, but there were no new pieces 
                           of mail or his case notes. This was definitely not a good 
                           sign, and not really a surprise to her, considering the 
                           condition he was in when they had last spoken.
                           
                           She called Skinner on her cell phone.
                           
                           He woke, looked at the clock and rubbed his eyes. "Skinner."
                           
                           "I'm sorry to disturb you so late, Sir. Where's Mulder? A
                           doctor at Georgetown U has been trying to contact me, and I
                           think for some reason Mulder's involved."
                           
                           "Yes.  Look, he's stabilized right now, and being carefully
                           watched.  I told Doctor Ogilvey he should not call you unless
                           it was completely necessary.  By the way, I still think you 
                           should take the vacation days."
                           
                           "I'm at Mulder's right now.  My mother has Bill's wife 
                           around and I think I should be here."
                           
                           "Look, it's been a very hard couple of days. Do you have
                           Ogilvey's number?"
                           
                           "Yes.  I plan to call him as soon as I finish this call. 
                           Did you read the reports?"
                           
                           "Yes.  I think under the circumstances... Look, I'll be 
                           seeing Agent Mulder tomorrow.  He may be released some time 
                           later. Why don't you get some sleep and I'll talk to you  
                           then."
                           
                           "All right,  Good night, Sir." Scully had no intention of 
                           going home. "Next stop, Georgetown U."
                           
                           GEROGETOWN UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL
                           3:01 A.M.
                           
                           Scully went straight to the Emergency Room and inquired
                           as to Mulder's condition and whereabouts. "Omigod, what
                           happened to you, Mulder," was all she could think as she 
                           pushed the button for the elevator.
                           
                           She identified herself to the nurse on the psychiatric 
                           ward as Dr. Scully and an FBI agent, and was allowed
                           access, but not without first reading his chart. "I'm
                           his personal physician," he told the charge nurse, a 
                           middle-aged petite woman, with a kindly face. Maybe she 
                           was someone's grandmother, Scully supposed. "I know Agent 
                           Mulder better than anyone, and I'd like to look in on 
                           him."
                           
                           "Sure.  One thing, though.  We have strict orders to see
                           that he has an undisturbed night. We're not to wake him.
                           But, it wouldn't hurt to see you when he wakes up. Last
                           night he was terribly restless, tossed and turned, and 
                           called for you a few times. He had some dandy nightmares."
                           
                           "I'll just watch. Let me know when Doctor Ogilvey gets 
                           here. Maybe I can offer some information he doesn't have."
                           
                           "We will. He's had a much better day than when he first came 
                           in."
                           
                           "Well, I'm a bit relieved now. Which room is he in?"
                           
                           "427."
                           
                           "Thank you." Scully quietly made her way to the room, and 
                           drew a chair to his bedside. She removed her coat, and 
                           sat, watching Mulder's face, and remembered the grizzly
                           finds in the cabin where Ron Holly had stored his victims
                           outside of Raleigh. "Mulder," she whispered. "I shouldn't
                           have gone. What can I do to help you?" She took his hand
                           in hers, and held it for a few minutes, being careful not 
                           to disturb his slumber.
                           
                           8:00 A.M.
                           
                           Scully had managed to fall asleep just before sunrise, so 
                           she hadn't expected to be awakened by a nurse carrying
                           Mulder's breakfast tray.  "Agent Scully?"
                           
                           "Umm. Yes.  I'm Agent Scully."
                           
                           The nurse put the tray on Mulder's table. "Night staff said
                           you were here. Looks like someone's still asleep."
                           
                           That someone began to stir.  He opened his eyes and saw
                           Scully, tears glistening on her face like glassy waterfalls.
                           "Scully, no."
                           
                           "Yes, Mulder. Don't give me any of that *No* crap. "Why 
                           didn't you talk to me?" Her face showed both sadness and 
                           anger.
                           
                           "You couldn't do anything, Scully." That disturbing 
                           monotone was in his voice again.  Scully had once been
                           used to it, but now, it seemed a regression to the first 
                           days of their partnership."
                           
                           The nurse interrupted as she could see an impending 
                           argument. "Agent Mulder, breakfast.  Doctor Scully, Doctor 
                           Ogilvey is on the ward. He'd very much like to see you."
                           
                           "Thank you.  I'll be right out."
                           
                           "Your Mom... "
                           
                           "Tara's with her. I'm more concerned about you."
                           
                           The nurse gently toucked Scully's arm. "Please, let's 
                           allow him to eat.  The Doctor's waiting in his office."
                           
                           "All right."  Scully rose, grabbing her coat. "I'll be
                           back Mulder."
                           
                           "I wouldn't, if I were you.  I'm not so great to be around
                           right now."
                           
                           The nurse raised Mulder's back and pulled the table
                           over his bed. "Scrambled eggs. You're in luck. I'll be
                           in with your meds in about a half-hour."
                           
                           Mulder wasn't hungry.  He was crestfallen that Scully had 
                           to come back to see him in this condition. He felt guilty
                           enough without dragging her into his miserable existence.
                           
                           
                           ***
                           
                           "So, what you're saying is this has been coming for a long 
                           time. That this depression was beneath the surface, and 
                           the Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder contributed to it."
                           
                           "Well, that and the last case you were working on. I know it 
                           was very horrible, I know that he feel's a sense of survivor 
                           guilt because you were both working on the case while several
                           people were murdered and mutilated. It must have been very 
                           hard on you, as well."
                           
                           Scully hung her head.  "Yes. It was. But I have been able to
                           handle it.  Mulder has a tendancy to become so absorbed in
                           a lot of our cases. He tries to put himself in the shoes of
                           the victims and the perpetrators.  Often, he becomes lost
                           to the whole concept of the illness, maybe evil, that people
                           represent."
                           
                           "Then he's a workaholic as well."
                           
                           "I'm afraid so.  Dr. Ogilvey, you're going to send him home 
                           with Prozac, from what I understand. Can you tell me why?"
                           
                           "Well, the underlying depression needs to be addressed. 
                           Don't get me wrong, I don't want him becoming a pill-popper.  
                           He will need some therapy as well."
                           
                           "I would have thought he'd confide in me by now," Scully 
                           said disappointedly. "He knows he can trust me. I've trusted 
                           him when things have gone wrong."
                           
                           "My guess is he's very fond of you.  He wants to protect you.
                           I have a couple of other people to see this morning. It was 
                           nice to see you, Doctor Scully."
                           
                           "Well, thank you. I want to see him again before I speak 
                           with the Assistant Director, Mr. Skinner."
                           
                           "Then he has two very good friends."  The doctor smiled, as 
                           he and Scully left the office and went their separate ways.
                           
                           FBI HEADQUARTERS,
                           WASHINGTON, D.C.
                           1:32 P.M.
                           
                           Skinner's assistant was away from her desk, so Scully knocked 
                           inner office door. "Come in."
                           
                           "I'm sorry, I'm late, Sir.  I had to go home for a change of
                           clothes." She took a seat. "So, I understand you were in to
                           see Mulder this morning, too?"
                           
                           "Yes.  Agent Scully, how long do you think he's been 
                           depressed?"
                           
                           "I don't know, Sir.  It may go back to his father's death,
                           and at that point in his search, he was getting close to a 
                           lot of things someone was trying very carefully to keep from 
                           him. I guess that's always been in the back of his mind.
                           He looked much better this morning than when I went in last 
                           night."
                           
                           "Yes.  I saw him an hour ago, Agent Scully." Skinner stood 
                           and paced. "From what I understand, this was one of the 
                           most disgusting cases both of you have ever seen."
                           
                           "It was the worst, Sir. People eviscerated, dismembered, 
                           mutilated... "
                           
                           "I... get the idea, Agent Scully. He'll need some therapy, 
                           but in the meantime, he needs some support. Since his 
                           mother can't seem to play that role right now, it's up to 
                           us to see to it that he has someone he can count on."
                           
                           "Sir, he can always count on me.  Now, in your position, I
                           think you should maintain a distance. He'll be back to work
                           when he gets this out of his system. Two or three weeks from
                           now, the Prozac will begin to take full effect, and in that
                           time, he will have had a few sessions with the therapist to 
                           whom he's being referred."
                           
                           "Well, then. I expect a call later this afternoon. I think
                           you could drive him home, see to it that he gets his 
                           prescription filled. I have a conference at three, so I
                           won't keep you any longer."
                           
                           "I'll be downstairs, Sir.  I think the office could use
                           some cleaning up."
                           
                           "You have two weeks off, Scully. Use them. The Raleigh
                           casw was just as hard on you."
                           
                           "I'd rather pick up the pieces of that case, before they
                           repair that window," Scully stood. "Call me down there."
                           
                           "I will. And Scully?"
                           
                           "Yes, Sir?"
                           
                           "Try not to read that... garbage."
                           
                           "Yes, Sir."
                           
                           ***
                           
                           GOERGETOWN UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL
                           5:00 P.M.
                           
                           Assistant Director Walter Skinner had received a message
                           at 3:15 that Agent Mulder was being discharged from the
                           psychiatric ward with a prescription for Prozac. Scully
                           arrived with some fresh clothing for her partner, and 
                           accompanied him to the pharmacy in his neighborhood.
                           Mulder seemed rather hesitant to leave the car.
                           
                           "Mulder.  You have to come with me. The pharmacist has
                           to explain this drug to you in person.
                           
                           Mulder just stared at the windshield. "Scully, I don't want 
                           to see anyone. Just go get it over with."
                           
                           "No, Mulder. I want you to come with me. Now let's go."
                           
                           "All right. Much as I'd like not to... "
                           
                           "I'm sure you'll feel differently in a few days." Scully 
                           held Mulder's arm. "It's okay, really."
                           
                           The pharmacist took the prescription from Scully. "It'll
                           only take a few minutes. Please, have a seat."
                           
                           They sat in the waiting area, and there was an uncomfortable
                           silence between them. Mulder felt the shame of Scully's
                           knowledge that he was not strong as ever, Scully thought 
                           it best she let him relax, and she felt a bit powerless.
                           
                           While the pharmacist was pouring out the capsules and 
                           counting them, his assistant informed him there was an 
                           urgent call. Another pharmacist's assistant took care of 
                           Mulder's order.
                           
                           "Well, he's new," Mulder remarked. "I guess that last one 
                           quit."
                           
                           WHen the pharmacist was through with his caller, he handed 
                           a bag containing the vial and instructions over to Mulder.
                           "Now, no alcohol while on Prozac. Take one capsule at
                           bedtime for four days, then increase to two every night.
                           If you have any side effects that the print out says are 
                           severe, call us or your doctor immediately."
                           
                           "Yeah. Jack, isn't this an SSRI?"
                           
                           "Yes. It's a relatively new class of drugs. It has a 
                           more specific effect than the other classes of mood 
                           elevating medications."
                           
                           "I see. Well, I guess I'll let you know.  See ya."
                           
                           "Okay, Mr. Mulder.  Remember, call if you have any 
                           problems. Read the print out, please."
                           
                           "We eill. Mulder, Dinner at your place. My treat. Let's 
                           go."
                           
                           They walked quickly to the exit. "Go home, Scully.  Just
                           drop me off, and go home."
                           
                           "No, I think I need a little company," Scully said as they
                           reached the car. "Anyhow, I think you'll like the movie
                           I bought when I went to get your clothes."
                           
                           Mulder took the passenger side seat. "I doubt *Steel
                           Magnolias* will help me, Scully."
                           
                           She started the car. "Well, maybe *Mars Attacks* will 
                           interest you."
                           
                           "Maybe."
                           
                           "Then let's go. After the movie, you can take your meds and
                           get to sleep."
                           
                           "Fun. Wow."
                           
                           "I understand, Mulder. I do." As she pulled the car out of 
                           the parking lot, she wondered just how long Mulder was going 
                           to seem numb. "It'll be good for you to get home. You'll see."
                           
                           "Okay. Fine. Dinner, the movie, and then you go home. I'll
                           be fine."
                           
                           When they reached a red light, she turned to him. "Mulder, 
                           look at me. You need someone there. Now, whether you like 
                           it or not, I am your doctor, and you need someone to be
                           there for you. No more. Do you hear me?"
                           
                           "Yeah. Look, I know what you're trying to do, and I 
                           appreciate it.  I just think you'd be better off in your own 
                           place."
                           
                           The light turned green and they were moving again. "Been
                           there, watered my plants, and re-stocked my overnight bag.
                           So, Chinese or pizza?"
                           
                           "I can't decide. I think the tranquillizers they gave me
                           are still in my system."
                           
                           "Well, I don't doubt that. You needed a high dose that 
                           night. We'll get you through this, Mulder."
                           
                           2360 HEGAL PLACE
                           ALEXANDRIA,VA
                           7:30 P.M.
                           
                           Mulder hadn't eaten much of the Chinese food Scully had 
                           ordered, but at least he had eaten something. He stood
                           beside the fish tank after he fed then and said he'd lost 
                           another molly. "So much for responsible pet ownership, huh 
                           Scully?"
                           
                           "Mulder, sit down and relax. I'll pop the movie in and
                           we can watch it.  I also want to run that laundry of yours
                           downstairs."
                           
                           "Oh, don't do that. My neighbors like to come out before
                           bedtime. It's their last chance to be out before there's
                           a shooting or stabbing. They seem to know my schedule."
                           
                           "Mulder, will you listen to yourself?  There hasn't been 
                           anything like that here for a year. Now, here's the 
                           remote.  Start the movie and I'll get your clothes into the 
                           washer before they run there."
                           
                           9:30 P.M.
                           
                           Scully had put away the left-over Chinese food and Mulder's
                           laundry, while he watched *Mars Attacks*.  She had been 
                           doing some research on Mulder's computer, and checking her 
                           e-mail, when she noticed Mulder had fallen asleep. The movie 
                           was over.  
                           
                           She went to the kirchen and returned with a glass of water 
                           and Mulder's medication. "Hey, time to take your meds."
                           
                           "Scully.  You're still here?"
                           
                           "Yes, Mulder.  Take your medication. Then you can go back to 
                           sleep."
                           
                           He relctantly swallowed the capsule and washed it down with 
                           water. "Night, Scully." He immediately fell back to sleep.
                           Scully grabbed a blankey and covered him up. She read
                           the information on Prozac, then decided to sleep in the chair 
                           in the livingroom.
                           
                           Mulder and Scully went through this routine the next day.
                           Mulder seemed much calmer, and Scully wrote some of her 
                           report on his computer, sending it to their office via e-mail.
                           
                           The third night Mulder had taken his Prozac at 10:00 P.M.
                           and felt no need to sleep. In fact, he was more than wide 
                           awake.  Scully had gone to a nearby corner store for some
                           groceries, and returned to find Mulder bouncing a basketball
                           off of a wall.
                           
                           "Mulder, what the hell are you doing? It's past ten!"
                           
                           "Thought I'd get a little exercise, Scully.  Lighten up!"
                           He was smiling. Prozac wasn't supposed to work that quickly.
                           "So, what did you buy? Liver pate? Tongue? Maybe some rump
                           roast? Brains? Bet it cost you an arm and a leg for the 
                           ground beef!" He broke out into a fit of laughter. "Get it? 
                           I mean, you could have made it a day trip to Raleigh! I know a 
                           little shack..."
                           
                           "Mulder! Stop it! What's going on with you?"
                           
                           "Hell, I'm just having the time of my life!" He thought
                           everything was hilarious. "Smile, Sweetie! I took my Prozac 
                           while you were out, and I feel fantastic! Just one capsule
                           and I am great!"
                           
                           "I'm calling an ambulance. This is insame." 
                           
                           When the paramedica arriced, Scully stopped one who was
                           filling a syringe.
                           
                           "Don't give him anything until we find out what's going
                           on," she ordered. "I'm going to have these analyzed." 
                           She grabbed the vial and her coat.
                           
                           Once more, Mulder needed to be restrained, and once more 
                           he was off to the ER. 
                           
                           GEORGETOWN UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL
                           11:51 P.M.
                           
                           Mulder was wheeled into an a psychiatric observation room,
                           and a doctor checked his pupils and reflexes. "We're a 
                           little high, aren't we?" The blonde doctor charted her 
                           findings.
                           
                           "I'd say more than a little," Scully grumbled. "He was
                           precribed Prozac. Look, Dr. Ogilvey is the doctor he
                           was assigned to a few days ago."
                           
                           "We've had him paged," the doctor replied. "This man just
                           started Prozac?"
                           
                           "Yes. I have something to attend to, and a call to make. 
                           The front desk has a munber where you can reach me."
                           
                           "Bye hon."
                           
                           "Save it, Mulder."
                           
                           Scully called Skinner to notify him of Mulder's condition, 
                           and decided to make use of the lab at The Hoover Building.
                           To do that, she enlisted the help of one of the agents 
                           assigned to the lab. 
                           
                           FBI HEADQUATERTERS
                           WASHINGTON, D.C.
                           11:54 P.M.
                           
                           "Well, we've opened up every capsule, Agent Scully. Out of 
                           the sixteen we had here, nine of them were not filled with 
                           Prozac."
                           
                           "What were they filled with?"
                           
                           "Cocaine. I'd say Agent Mulder's pharmacy needs an inspection."
                           
                           Scully's phone chirped. "Scully."
                           
                           It was Dr. Ogilvey. "We ran some bloodwork, and Agent Mulder
                           had some rather interesting results... "
                           
                           "Cocaine, I know. I had his capsules analyzed."
                           
                           "We'll have to just let his system eliminate it."
                           
                           "How long will that take?"
                           
                           "Overnight, maybe into tomorrow.  I don't believe he's used
                           to cocaine. Sometime tomorrow, we should see some improvement."
                           
                           "Thank you."  Scully ended the call and her thoughts drifted 
                           back to the pharmacy.  She remembered Mulder's words. *He's 
                           new.*  "Agent, thanks for coming out this late."
                           
                           "No problem, Agent Dcully.  He's one of us."
                           
                           Scully made her way to the elevator, and called the operator.
                           "I need a home number for Luigi 'Jack' Accetti.  He's a 
                           pharmacist in Alexandria, Virginia.  Great, thanks." She then 
                           called the pharmacist as she entered the elevator.
                           
                           GEORGETOWN UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL
                           2:03 A.M..
                           
                           Skinner had been waiting at the hospital for over an hour
                           when Scully returned to the ward.
                           
                           "Thanks for coming, Sir. Is there any word on Mulder?"
                           
                           "Only what they told you over the phone. He's been put
                           into a padded room.  Any idea how he got a hold of coke?"
                           
                           "Yes. It was planted in his prescribed medication. I had
                           the lab analyze the capsules. Apparently, someone knew
                           which pharmacy Mulder frequents, and a very short-term 
                           employee had time and opportunity to tamper with his meds."
                           
                           "Did you call the Washington PD?"
                           
                           "Sir, the man gave a false name, false references, false 
                           Social Security Number.  I believe he's just another part
                           of a group of a nameless, above-the=law element of society
                           that have been thwarting our efforts for several years."
                           
                           48 HOURS LATER
                           
                           Mulder was well enough to receive visitors.
                           
                           Scully brought him wildflowers, and arranged them in a vase.
                           "You were lucky, Mulder. You may have a long way to go, but
                           you're alive. They're releasing you this afternoon."
                           
                           "Yeah, how about that.  Look, Scully... I don't know how to 
                           say this exactly. I wanted to protect you from all that went
                           on in Raleigh, and I failed.  Some knight in shining armor.
                           I couldn't protect myself."
                           
                           "That's where you're wrong.  You wouldn't be human if you 
                           weren't affected by what we saw. God knows, I was affected by 
                           it. You should have told me sooner, and maybe this drug 
                           tampering wouldn't have happened. I trust you, Mulder.  Why 
                           can't you trust me to help you?"
                           
                           "I didn't want to make you suffer any more than you had. I
                           felt like such a waste as an Agent and a person."
                           
                           "Then you don't really know just how strong you are. Or, for
                           that matter, how strong I am. We have a few more days off, and 
                           I suggest you use the time to take a break, see your therapist,
                           and just hang out."
                           
                           "What are you going to be doing? Writing up more drug 
                           monograms?
                           
                           "No.  I need a break.  Maybe I can hang out with you. If that's
                           okay... "
                           
                           "It's okay." Mulder smiled. "I'm going to be eating a lot of
                           fruits and vegetables for a long time."
                           
                           
                           
                                                            END
                           
                           
                           
                           
                           
                            
                           
                           
                           
                           
                           
                           

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