DISCLAIMER JAZZ: "The X-Files" and its characters are the 
creations and property of the fabled Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen 
Productions and Fox Broadcasting. I am, of course, using them 
without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. All 
other concepts or ideas herein are mine.
RATING: NC-17
SPOILERS: Through US season 7
ARCHIVE: ONLY ON THE AUTHOR'S OWN WEBSITE 
(http://rowan_d.tripod.com/elizabethr.html) UNTIL STORY IS 
COMPLETED. This way I can mess with the early parts as later 
parts develop...
TIMELINE: Though this takes place sometime after "all things", in 
this universe "Requiem" did NOT happen...


"Water's Edge"
by 
Elizabeth Rowandale <bstrbabs@earthlink.net>
Copyright (c) 2003


Chapter 15b



Once upon a time, the blue-white of hospital hallways had 
represented a kind of second home to Dana Scully.  Med-school.  
Her goals.  Her future.  Her friends.  Her place.  Then somewhere 
along the way, everything had changed.  Mulder with a gunshot 
wound, chemo-therapy and throwing up in hospital pans, MRIs and 
Melissa wrapped in bandages, Mulder gasping for breath through a 
swarm of black bugs, Emily screaming for the tests to stop.  
*Emily*.  And now the dark and light impressions all mixed 
together each time she set foot in a hospital.  Once upon a time, 
a hospital was the only place Dana Scully had felt in control of 
the chaos of the world.  The only place she could cling to logic 
and rules and scientific procedures and know how to proceed in a 
crisis.  Too many years of medical horrors outside the rules had 
stolen that away.

Scully was sitting in a hard molded-plastic chair in the hallway 
outside the fifth floor medical rooms.  She knew this hospital 
well.  This was not such a bad floor to be on.  Others were much 
darker.

The nurses were settling Daniel into his room for the night.  She 
would be allowed to see him in a few minutes.  He had been 
released from the ER and checked in on the medical floor.  He had 
been right about the concussion, but so far there seemed to be no 
other serious damage, and the concussion symptoms were minimal.  
He needed to stay overnight.  Scully had been patched together at 
the scene, then stitched and monitored in the ER.  Her arm was 
heavily bandaged, her throat lightly patched.  Her head knock 
hadn't caused anything but a piercing headache.  The cuts on her 
arm would most likely scar.  They had released her with a small 
pile of painkiller prescriptions.

Scully sat quietly in the slightly dimmed night-time hallway, 
staring down at the toes of her black pumps and trying to think 
clearly.  She was beyond exhausted.  A little weak from hunger.  
But she couldn't focus on any of that until she had Daniel 
settled.  Until she knew he was okay.  Until she got the report 
from surgery on whether the man she had shot in the chest would 
live or die.

She had been waiting on that last fact for several hours.

Scully was still looking down when a pair of broken-in cowboy 
boots entered her frame of vision.

"I'm guessin' this wasn't what you had planned for this evening," 
Michaels said.

Scully tilted her head back and gazed up at her partner.  Her 
neck had stiffened as she sat.  Just walking around would hurt by 
tomorrow.  She was getting old.  She couldn't bounce back from 
this kind of abuse the way she used to.  Or maybe the effects 
were somehow cumulative.

"Well, I didn't want to come back to work this evening, so, I 
thought I'd just catch the killer on my own over my dinner 
break."

Michaels smiled, his expression gentle, eyes harboring a shade of 
sadness.  "Well, looks like you did a damn fine job."

"Are they finished at the scene?"

Michaels nodded, lowering himself to the seat beside hers.  "All 
done.  I managed to keep the damage to a minimum, I think.  For a 
bunch of people who are supposed to be aware of every paint chip 
and fiber, the forensic techs sure are a clumsy bunch of oafs."

Scully breathed out deliberately through her nose, the closest 
thing she could offer to a laugh.  "Thank you, Gannon."

To her surprise, he scoffed at that.  "For letting my partner get 
her arm carved up while I was downing a large pepperoni?  Not 
much to thank me for tonight."

Scully turned and stared him down hard.  "Gannon, we had no way 
of knowing this would happen.  None."

"Come on, Dana.  Sure we did.  This guy's been following you for 
weeks, hasn't he?  We knew that.  Why the hell didn't we see it?  
Why weren't we protecting you?"

"I don't fit the physical profile."

"The physical profile was a flimsy guess, most likely irrelevant 
to the case.  You've said as much yourself.  That's not a 
reason."

Scully looked at the floor again.  "This isn't your fault, 
Gannon.  For one thing, I didn't even keep you up to date on what 
was going on.  I just...I guess it just didn't seem possible that 
the killer would be so brazen, so obviously appearing where we 
could have gotten a look at his face.  That was one thing with 
the victims, but with the agent investigating his own case..."

"Well, it doesn't sound like this guy has much fear of 
traditional authorities."

Scully lifted her gaze again, narrowing her eyes.  "What makes 
you say that?"

"Miranda Lockheart.  The cops picked her up in a car about a 
block from your apartment.  Apparently, she was the getaway car."

"You're kidding me."

"I would not.  And she seems more than willing to talk this time.  
Sounds like this guy has some sort of God complex.  Thinks he's 
meant to single-handedly bring an end to colonization.  That he's 
God's Gift to protect the human race."

"Yeah," Scully said softly, distancing herself a bit as she was 
caught off guard by a flash of memory and a wave of bone-deep 
fear.  She cleared her throat.  "Why?  How did he...how did he 
get to this place?"

Michaels watched her intently for a moment, and Scully cocked her 
head, lifting her eyebrows in enquiry.  "Gannon?"

"His girlfriend died," Gannon said slowly.  But there was more.  
There had to be.

"Died how?"

"Fire.  On a bridge."

"What?"  But the longer Michaels stared at her, the more it came 
together in her mind.  "No.  Ruskin Dam?  The abductees?  The 
burned bodies..."

Michaels was nodding.  "Seems one of the casualties was his 
girlfriend.  I don't know much more than that yet.  I haven't 
been down to talk with her myself.  I'm headed over there when I 
leave here."

Scully leaned her forearms on her knees and dropped her head 
again.  This was too much information for tonight.  She wanted to 
know everything at once, *needed* to know, and yet she wanted to 
be quiet and numb.  Jesus, she was tired.

"And speaking of the man of the hour...what's his prognosis?"

Scully pulled up straighter and cleared her throat, grateful for 
the opportunity to slip into professional mode.  "Touch and go.  
He's still in surgery.  Has been for the past hour.  They don't 
know yet, but the surgeon has my cell phone number.  She's 
supposed to call me as soon as he's out of surgery."

"You're gonna be cleared in a heartbeat either way, you know 
that.  It was a good shoot."

Scully nodded.  "I know.  But thank you."

"They released you?  You're all right?  For real?"  He reached 
out and rubbed a gentle circle on her back as he spoke.

And the touch felt good, and in the same moment she wanted to 
push him away.  Hard.  "Yeah.  I'm fine."

"How's your guy?  He looked pretty beat up when he left."

She drew a deep breath.  "He took a nasty blow to the head.  He 
has a concussion.  He'll have to stay the night here.  I'm 
waiting to go in to see him now.  But he should be all right.  He 
has...a pre-existing heart condition, he's on Coumadin.  That's a 
blood thinner, so there's an increased chance for internal 
bleeding.  They'll have to monitor him closely for a while."

"Jesus, Dana, I'm sorry about all this."

"It's all right," she whispered.  But his hand was still on her 
back and her chest was starting to ache.  The floor beneath her 
swam through a haze of warm tears.

"You do know you're entitled to be a little freaked out about all 
this, right?  I mean, what you went through this evening would 
put most people into counseling for years.  I know you're a tough 
lady, Dana, but just because you've been a crime victim before, 
doesn't mean you don't get to feel it this time."

Scully just closed her eyes.  Her breath was shaking and she felt 
the first tear slip down her cheek.  She didn't want that now.  
She glanced up, flashed her eyes wide to dry her tears.  Michaels 
kept his hand on her back as she breathed.

"You got somewhere to go tonight?" he asked gently, genuinely 
concerned and giving her something practical to focus on at the 
same time.

"Yeah, I, uh..." she swallowed, moistened the corner of her 
mouth.  "I'm going back to Daniel's apartment.  He has...a dog.  
I need to take care of her."

Michaels nodded with a gentle smile.  "Good.  That's good.  You 
won't be alone, then."

"Ms. Scully?"  Scully looked up into the face of a young nurse.  
The woman was no more than 25, Asian, with a kind smile.  Her 
long hair was tied back in a low pony-tail.

"Yes?"

"You can go on in to see Dr. Waterston now.  He was asking about 
you.  Technically, it's long after visiting hours, but you can 
have a few minutes before you go.  Just try to keep it as quiet 
as possible, if you would."

"Of course.  Thank you."

"You can come back any time after seven tomorrow morning."

Scully pushed to her feet.  "Thank you.  And what was your name?"

"Nancy," the young woman said with a smile.

"Thank you, Nancy.  I appreciate your help."

Nancy nodded, and returned to the nurse's station.

Scully turned to Michaels who had risen to his feet behind her.  
"Do you need to leave now?" she asked.

He shook his head.  "What do you need?"

"Uh...a ride, actually.  I rode over in the ambulance with 
Daniel, and...I'll just be a few minutes, if you wouldn't mind 
waiting.  Once I'm there, I have the keys to Daniel's car, so..."

"Of course, Dana.  No problem.  Take your time, I'll be right 
here."

She nodded.  "Thank you."

"Is your apartment on our way?  We'll swing by, pick up your 
overnight things."

"No, thanks, I'm fine.  I just need a ride there."

The ghost of a teasing smile played across Michaels' lips.  
Scully was utterly lost, hardly able to track the surface 
conversation let alone the subtext.  "What?" she asked softly.  
She pushed an errant strand of hair behind her ear, realized she 
hadn't looked in a mirror in hours.

Michaels shook his head.  "Nothing.  Go on.  Go see your guy," he 
said.  But the trace of a smile remained.

She hesitated a moment, then took a step away, and behind her 
back Michaels sing-songed softly.  "You have overnight things at 
your boyfriend's house..."

Scully stopped.  She drew a deep breath, turned and looked over 
her shoulder at Michaels.  And it was plain as day behind the 
amusement in his eyes, that he would have done anything to make 
all this vanish for her.  And the one thing he had to offer was 
humor, normalcy.  The inkling that everything was going to be all 
right again.  She had known someone else once upon a time who had 
been good at that kind of thing.  Scully started to say something 
clever in return.  She started to say "thank you"--for the humor, 
for the support from the moment he had appeared at her apartment 
door while the paramedics were bandaging her arm.  But none of 
that made it past her lips.  Instead, she took the three steps 
back to her partner and pushed onto her toes for a tight embrace.  
Michaels hugged back hard.  For a long moment, they didn't speak.  
Then Michaels whispered, "We got him, Dana.  Because of you, 
nobody else is going to die."  Scully didn't reply; she just held 
on.  She felt the tears on her lashes soak into the cloth of 
Michaels' jacket.  Then she released her hold and walked away 
without a glance.


*****


Daniel's room was riddled with shadows.  A single lamp above his 
headboard offered the only light, save for the thin glow through 
the exposed window.  The room was designed for two patients, but 
the first bed was empty tonight, affording them some welcome 
privacy.

When Scully stepped into the room, Daniel was propped up near to 
sitting, gazing out the window, unaware of her arrival.  When she 
reached the circle of light, he turned and smiled.

"Ah, Hurricane Scully has arrived."

A slow smile spread across her lips.  "I was summoned," she 
quoted.  The warmth of the shared memory flickered between them.  
Scully circled the bed to where the bed rail was lowered and sank 
down on the edge of the too-firm mattress.  She hated hospital 
mattresses.  The polar opposite of the cushioned sanctuary she 
kept as her own retreat.

Her hand fell easily into Daniel's.  The heat of his skin was 
reassuring.  "How are you feeling?" she asked.

Daniel shook his head.  "I'm fine.  I don't even need to be here.  
They're being over-protective."

"You have a concussion."

"A *mild* concussion.  I'm fine."

"It's one night.  Better to be safe.  If you're fine, they'll 
send you home first thing in the morning."

"Dana, you're the one I'm worried about.  You look exhausted.  
Are they keeping you here tonight?"

She shook her head.  "No, no, I'm fine, I've been released.  Cuts 
and bruises.  Nothing serious."

"Well, where are you going from here?  You're not going in to 
work tonight, are you?  Do you have to--"

"No, the reports will wait until morning.  I've already given my 
statement.  They took yours in the ER, didn't they?"

Daniel nodded.

"They picked up our assailant's accomplice, and I need to speak 
with her, but it will wait until morning.  My partner's here.  
He's out in the hall.  He'll drive me to your place, and then 
take care of the work that needs to be done tonight.  I'll take 
care of Tasha."

Daniel lifted his eyebrows and the relief was visible in his 
countenance.  "Thank you.  I didn't want to ask you..."

"You didn't want to ask me?"  Scully held his gaze for several 
seconds.  "It's *me*."

Daniel nodded.  "Yes.  But you were just attacked by a serial 
murderer and barely escaped with your life.  I don't...I don't 
know what the protocol is.  I treat the body, Dana, not the mind.  
Not the soul."

"This isn't my first time in this kind of situation," Scully said 
softly.  "I've been a victim before."  She paused a moment, let 
her gaze sink to his chest.  "I've killed before.  I know the 
stages my mind needs to go through.  I'll be okay."

Daniel tightened his grip on her hand.  "Then teach me.  So, I 
can go through it with you."

Scully closed her eyes.  She wasn't ready for that yet.  Change 
of subject.

"Do you want me to call anyone?  Your family, Maggie?"

But Daniel shook his head.  "You'll only worry them.  And 
besides...I have all the family I need right here."

Scully let her gaze move over every detail of Daniel's figure, 
her Doctor's mind in full sway.  The color of his skin, the pale 
shading beneath his eyes, the pattern of his hairline, the 
bandages where they had drawn blood, the tape for the requisite 
IV needle in the back of his hand.

And suddenly the image of Daniel, here in a hospital bed, sitting 
up talking with her, washed over her with an eerie vertigo.

She couldn't deal with the parallels, the endless "what-if" 
scenarios that flashed in Technicolor through her mind.  She 
couldn't...after all that had happened this year, she couldn't...

Daniel saw the tension fluttering through her; the tears she kept 
denying pressed at the edges of their confinement again.

Daniel reached up and touched a hand to her cheek.  The 
tenderness hurt.  She was raw, open.

"I thought you were dead on the floor," Scully whispered, her 
words soft with the breath of tears.  And she hated that she was 
asking comfort of the man who lay in the hospital bed, when she 
was the one still on her feet, but she was just so tired...

"I'm fine," Daniel said, his voice deep and soothing.  "I'm just 
fine.  I'll be home tomorrow.  Thanks to you, Wonder Girl."

But she didn't acknowledge the teasing, or the genuine wonder 
behind it.  Couldn't, right now.

Daniel was quick to fall in synch.  His tone dropped to deep 
intimacy.  "Damn, I wish you didn't have to sleep alone tonight."

Scully closed her eyes and slowly shook her head.  "I'm fine.  I 
just..."  She lifted her gaze, sniffed sharply, felt the dam 
slipping as she lost hold on her tears.  "Just...don't die on me 
any time soon."  She barely got the last words out and the ache 
in her chest was like a physical blow.  Daniel reached for her 
and Scully sank to rest her head against his chest.  His hands 
smoothed her hair, kneaded her back, caressing, soothing, 
sheltering.  She listened to the solid beat of his heart; let it 
regulate her own breath.

"I'm not going anywhere.  I promise, Baby.  I'm here.  But you 
have to promise the same, all right?"  She could hear the tears 
in Daniel's voice, felt the emotion resonating through his chest.  
"You scared the hell out of me tonight, Dana Scully."

Scully closed her eyes, and for that one precious moment, she let 
go.


*****


End Chapter 15b.  (Continued in 15c...Yeah, there's a "c"....:))
Feedback - the food of inspiration - bstrbabs@earthlink.net