Midnight's Sorrow, Chapter 8.
Disclaimer in Chapter 1.
This story is rated NC-17.




Mercy Memorial Hospital
Bloomington, Illinois
July 12th
10:30  a.m.


Scully left her meeting with the hospital
board disappointed.  Forty minutes had
failed to provide her with anything but some
random accounts of dosage miscalculations and
a couple of unaccounted for bottles of
acetaminophen.  The rest of the thefts were
trivial and not necessarily medicinal.  A
stolen case of Chapstick was hardly worthy of
the federal government's attention.  She
walked quickly down the linoleum hallway,
glad to be free of the stuffy, undercooled
meeting room.  

Scully unbuttoned her tan suit jacket as she
walked to the intensive care unit,
straightening out the folds in her
cream-colored blouse as she made her way. 
The hospital seemed fairly quiet at this late
hour of the morning, except for the
occasional intercom call and the squeak of
shoes on the freshly scrubbed floors.  She
stopped in front of the silver doors of the
elevator and pushed the button.  The
elevator doors opened and a young man, in his
early twenties with neatly trimmed, sandy
blonde hair and green eyes,  blushed at
Scully.  He pushed a large cart of laboratory
supplies to the back of the elevator as she
entered.

"Hi there."  He offered shyly as the doors
closed behind them.   He smiled smitten,
gazing at her as if in a stupor,  as he
leaned on the side of his cart.  Scully
smiled back weakly at the young man in his
white hospital uniform before turning from
him to reach for the elevator button.

"Oh!  What floor?"  He exclaimed, jumping
away from his cart and darting to the other
side of the elevator.

"Fourth, please."  Scully responded, slightly
startled, but also a little flattered at the
young man's obvious display.

He reached a tan arm out and pushed the
button for the fourth floor for her with an
obliging smile.  

"Thanks."  Scully replied with barely
contained amusement.

"Not a problem.  I'm a phlebotomist here." 
He added pointing to his cart as if for
proof.  "My name's Marty."

"Thank you, Marty."  Scully commented, with a
smile she couldn't quite conceal, turning
away from him once again, somewhat relieved
to feel the elevator come to a stop.  

Marty ran for the doors as they opened,
holding them for her. "Here you go, fourth
floor."

Scully walked out past him.  "Thanks again,
Marty." She replied with a smile as she left.

"Have a nice day!"  She heard him call out
from behind her as she stepped on to the
ward.  

XXXXXXXXXX

The ICU was always a little different from
the other units in the hospital, the hallways
mostly empty, and quiet.  No noise from
patients' television or talk, just the beeps,
hums and hisses of various equipment.  The
nurses still chatted, but  in small intervals
between patient checks and care, paying close
attention to their respective rooms.

"Agent Scully?"  

Scully turned to the room she had just passed
on her way to the nurses' station.  Dr.
Voight stood in the open doorway, his
stethoscope draped over his neck.

"Thank you for coming.  If you don't mind, I
would like to meet with you in my office." 
He smiled warmly at her as he stepped over
to the nurses' station to replace the patient
file, he held.

"That would be fine, doctor." Scully replied,
waiting for him.

Dr. Voight crossed the hallway and opened the
door, holding it for her.  "Please..."  He
added encouraging her to enter first.

Scully smiled politely at the older man, his
smartly styled, gray hair  gleaned in the
fluorescent lights.  Dr. Voight's office
wasn't big  in size, but it was immaculately
and tastefully decorated.  A large mahogany
desk sat on the other end, just in front of
the windows. Matching bookcases lined most of
the sidewalls.  He pulled out a dark leather
seat in front of his desk.  Scully sat,
obediently.  

Dr. Voight crossed to a small, highly
polished table, grabbing a black thermal
carafe and two matching cups.  "I hope you
don't mind, but I usually take a small coffee
break right about now, I am taking the
liberty of pouring a cup for you as well.  Do
you take cream or sugar?"  

Scully looked away from a  large painting of
an autumn maple at dusk that sat behind her. 
"No, black would be just fine." She replied,
still looking around the room.

Dr. Voight sat the cup gently in front of her
before sitting behind the desk with his own. 
"Agent Scully, I called you because I could
use your professional opinion.  As a federal
agent and a doctor, I feel that you are
exactly the person to help me with my
dilemma."   

Scully watched as he toyed with a large
silver and garnet ring that he wore as he
spoke to her. She lifted her cup to her lips
and took a sip as she waited patiently for
him to continue.  Dr. Voight had called her
after she had left the restaurant, and she
hadn't had a chance to tell Mulder that she
wouldn't be making it back when she had
anticipated.  Moreover, hospital regulations
did not allow the use of cell phones in the
building.  Scully winced as the bitter liquid
hit her mouth.

"I make it strong.  I need to."  Dr. Voight
commented, tossing an individual creamer
across the desk, and a stir stick,  to her
before he continued.  "I feel that I am
having some difficulties with a member of my
staff.  I believe that you met her, Nurse
Miller?"

"Yes, I have."  Scully remarked, tearing the
lid off of the cream and pouring it into the
coffee.  She crossed her legs, cup in hand as
she waited.  

"I have been concerned for some time about
her actually, but I feel things have only
become a real issue recently."  He removed
the black stethoscope from around his neck
and placed it into the oversized pocket of
his white lab coat.  

Scully took another sip of her coffee. 
"Exactly what is concerning you?"  She
prompted.

"I have reason to believe that she may have
falsified hospital documents."  He explained,
straightening the  pinstriped navy blue tie
that he wore over his blue dress shirt.

"What causes you to believe this?"

"There have been some inaccuracies in reports
signed by Nurse Miller over recent months.  I
have addressed her on a couple of occasions
on this, but it appeared to have been little
more then a mistake and nothing serious at
that.  But recently, there have been reports
stating patients were given drugs while I was
on duty that I have not prescribed."  He
explained, stirring his coffee with a small,
red stir stick.

"Dr. Voight, I realize that these
implications are very serious, but I feel the
consequences of not reporting this behavior
would be even more so."

Dr. Voight sighed and leaned back in his
executive style chair as he spun to stare out
the window.  "You must understand, that Nurse
Miller and I have worked together for many
years and she has never been anything less
then wonderful with the patients here at the
ICU. I was reluctant to move on this without
good reason."

"I can understand your concern, but your
patients may be in danger. If nothing is
done.."  Scully was interrupted by someone
knocking on the door.

"Dr.  Voight?"  One of the nurses that Scully
recognized from the station swung the door
open.  "You have a patient coding in room
four o' two!"  She ran back out of the room
after explaining her intrusion.

"Excuse me Agent, please wait here for me." 
Dr. Voight motioned for her to stay as he
rose from his desk and sprinted out of the
office.

Scully sipped some more of the strong, but
now creamed coffee, listening to the
incessant beeps of the monitors and the
scuffle of the unit's staff as someone
struggled to cling to life only doors
away.  She felt suddenly very sleepy, very
heavy, but given last night's activities that
seemed reasonable.  Scully yawned and rubbed
a hand over her eyes before taking a large
gulp of the hot liquid.  She hoped it wasn't
decaffeinated, she could have used the boost, 
although it's unusually acrid taste made her
wonder.  She set her cup down and stood from
her chair to look out the window as the
people passed below. They all seemed so tiny
to her from four floors above.  She paced the
span of the room, her arms folded over her
chest.  Her legs seemed to be growing more
reluctant by the minute, feeling more like
heavy logs than limbs.  Scully yawned again,
considering drinking some more coffee, when
her stomach rolled violently.  She swallowed
hard, twice, before darting out of the office
into the hallway.  

Scully forced her increasingly sluggish body
into activity, barely managing to drag
herself into the bathroom in time to vomit. 
She forced herself to pace her breathing as
she bent over the toilet, trying to manage
her nausea, fighting the sensation that her
consciousness was suddenly attempting to give
way.  Scully planted a hand on the cool,
white ceramic squares on the wall beside her,
steadying herself.  She had to get back to
the hotel, something was wrong, she realized.
She stood to leave, shaking, slightly
confused,  her symptoms barely under control. 
She used a hand to steady herself on the wide
wooden rail in the hospital hallway,
listening to the commotion still underway. 
Dr.  Voight was still busy she realized, she
would call him later.

Scully left the ward, her head light, her
stomach churning as she caught an elevator
back down to the first floor.  Her stomach
rolled from the elevator's motion, and she
fought to keep from throwing up as she
stepped out.  Scully wove her way through the
crowded lobby, the faces she passed seeming
to blur, her legs and arms burning from the
burden, but she trudged on.  Scully shoved
her way through the automatic doors and back
into the heat of the day, her forehead wet
with perspiration before she even neared her
car.  She feared she would vomit in the
parking lot or worse yet, pass out.  The
asphalt seemed to wave past her as she
stumbled closer to her rental car, hoping
that she was safely out of the way of the
traffic, since her senses seemed dulled from
her illness and exhaustion.  

She reached the blue Toyota Celica just in
time to vomit beside the driver's side door. 
Scully crouched down beside the car, her head
resting on the side panel as she attempted to
recover.  The sour smell of her lost stomach
contents in the heat threatened to cause
her to repeat the action.  Scully stood
reluctantly, her head swimming wildly.  With
a shaky hand, she fished the key out of her
pocket and fought to get the lock open past
her trembling.  Finally succeeding, she swung
the door open, allowing it to bear most of
her weight as she flopped down onto the
driver's seat.  Scully rested her head on the
steering wheel momentarily before deep sleep
threatened to take her to the edge of
oblivion.  Still allowing the steering wheel
to hold her chest, Scully reached for her
cell phone on the seat beside her, where she
had left it.  She raked it into her hand and
pushed the button to speed dial Mulder's
number.  Scully pressed the phone to her ear,
listening to the distant ringing, hoping
to hear his familiar husky voice before her
lucidity slipped away and she entered into
the deep, quiet world that beckoned her.

XXXXXXXXXXX

River Oaks Veterinary Clinic
10:50  a.m.

Mulder paced the stained and faded linoleum
in the waiting room of the veterinary clinic,
checking his watch no less than every ten
minutes.  Dr. Dexter had been called into an
emergency surgery on a dachshund who had
eaten a nightlight before Mulder had even
arrived at the clinic.  So, he waited.  He
had given up on trying to brush the animal
hair off of his work suit twenty minutes ago. 
He had begun his pacing then, just off to the
left of the heavily scratched reception desk
by a display for flea control, safely out of
the way of a large rottweiler that had been
staring suspiciously at him for the past
fifteen minutes.  He didn't even want to
recall the incident with the toy poodle that
had left his right foot and ankle wet. 
Scully owed him.  Big time.  Mulder toyed
with a mostly dried up  air freshening cone
on the appointment desk, that had done
nothing to cover the heavy ammonia scent in
the small building.  He was willing to bet
that it's remaining green center smelled
nothing like pine anymore. 

He had already reviewed  the files on the
theft.  Ketamine had been stolen recently. 
Not shocking since special k was a hot item,
but it certainly wasn't what they were
looking for.   Mulder sighed impatiently to
himself as he continued his adjustments to
the air freshener, finally succeeding in
knocking the top off.  The receptionist shot
him an annoyed look as she continued with her
phone conversation.  

"Sorry."  He replied sheepishly, backing away
from the desk and the broken air freshener,
relieved to hear his cell phone ringing from
inside of his jacket pocket.

"Mulder." He answered, stepping to the wall
beside the desk to stare out the small
window.

"I need help..."  The voice on the other end
breathed out,  weakly, almost too soft to
hear.   Mulder plugged his free ear with an
index finger as he spun back around.

"Scully?"  He questioned confused.  "Scully
where are you?" 

"I'm at...I'm in my car...the hospital.
Please, Mulder,...something's wrong."  


Mulder's heart hammered in his chest.  "I'm
coming Scully, I'm leaving right now.  Hold
on."  Mulder ran out of the clinic past the
owners and their animals and into the hot
parking lot.

"Feel so sick..."  Scully whimpered
distantly.

"I'm coming right now; I'm getting in my
car."  Mulder threw his car door open, jumped
in and started the car, cell phone still to
his ear.  He threw the car in drive and
squealed out of the parking lot onto the
street, passing cars and changing lanes in
attempt to reach her faster.   "Scully?"  He
questioned realizing that the other end of
the line had been quiet for awhile.  "Talk to
me Scully!"  He demanded, searching for a
quicker route to the hospital as he found
himself stuck behind a huge red dump truck in
a slow  line of traffic.  Her response came
in the form of a low groan.  "Damn it,
Scully, you've got to tell me what's going
on! Scully?"


XXXXXXXX


Mulder held his breath, waiting for some
response, considering calling for help as he
grasped the hot steering wheel,  but not
wanting to lose her on the line.  "Scully!" 
He shouted frantically into the phone.


"Sick, Mulder.."  She finally sighed, so that
the last part of his name seemed to lack the
d.

"Do you need me to call the hospital?"  He
asked, concern heavy in his voice as he sped
in the direction of Mercy Memorial.

"No, jus need rest."  

"Hang with me then Scully; I'm only about
five minutes away."  Mulder replied, turning
the car one handed onto Cherry Street. 

XXXXXXXX

Scully continued to lie over the steering
wheel, listening to Mulder's voice from the
phone she held pressed to her ear.  It was
becoming more difficult for her to remember
why she was staying awake.  Even the nausea
seemed distant as she'd start to drift away,
everything felt pleasant.  But Mulder's voice
had shaken her awake several times.  He kept
yelling at her, something about not wanting
her to sleep.  Scully closed her tired eyes
to the sound of Mulder's insistent voice, the
image of a lone maple tree jutting out in
field, held in her mind. 

Scully smiled serenely as she slipped past
the world with a stifling hot car and a noisy
partner and into that field.  She walked
effortlessly towards the maple, past the
rustling field grass, her hair whipping about
wildly in the evening's cool breezes.  The
late summer's sun shone golden above her,
warming her face and her shoulders and giving
everything a rich amber tint. Cichlids sang
their shrill afternoon song, invisible in the
tall grass as she continued towards the tree. 
The grass felt soft on her bare feet, and
brushed gently across her legs as she made
her way through.  The maple stood tall, it's
branches dark as ink, shadowed by its own
top.  The wind shook the mahogany colored
leaves with a sound soft as a gentle spring
rain.  Scully stood to admire it, wondering
why she hadn't come there sooner.  She felt
at one with the sun, the tree and the
outdoors, even the wind seemed to whisper her
name to her as it rushed by.

XXXXXXXX

"Scully!  Scully! Answer me Scully!"  Mulder
shouted into the phone as the looming
hospital building finally came into view. 
"Damn it!"  He yelled out, pushing the end
button on his cell phone and throwing it into
the passenger seat.  She had stopped
responding to him altogether several minutes
ago. Mulder turned abruptly and sped  into
the parking lot, narrowly avoiding a
collision with a white station wagon as it
backed out of a parking spot and completely
ignored the angry driver's vocal reprimand.  

"Where are you Scully?"  He muttered to
himself as he scanned the aisles for her
midnight blue rental car.  A hospital shuttle
bus stopped in front of the aisle blocking
him in as a group of people boarded.  "Shit!" 
Mulder called out, slamming his hand against
the top of his dashboard.  Mulder checked
over his shoulder and threw the car into
reverse and backed up the length of the aisle
before turning around.  Pedestrians shifted
nervously off to the side, some calling out
loud complaints.  

As Mulder backed up, he spotted a blue car
close to the building, one aisle over, with
what appeared to be a woman slumped over the
steering wheel.  Mulder quickly assessed the
situation, cars were pulling in and out of
that aisle, and the shuttle bus still blocked
him from ahead.  Mulder parked the car where
he was and jumped out to run to the blue
Celica.  He dodged traffic and pedestrians in
the thick heat,  focused on getting to the
car.  

As Mulder neared his destination, Scully's
hair came into view, her face turned away
from him as she lay on the steering wheel. 
"Scully..."  He muttered to himself, half
afraid of what he might find. Mulder sprinted
the rest of the way to the car.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX



Mulder quickly crossed to the driver's side
door and opened it.  He gently moved Scully
back away from the steering wheel.  Mulder
panicked at the lack of resistance her body
offered as he moved her.

"Scully!"  He called out shaking her
shoulders, "Scully, wake up!" 

Scully moaned gently and opened her eyes so
that just a sliver of them were showing,
before quickly closing them again.  "Scully,
no, you've got to wake up!"  Mulder continued
shaking her.  

"No, do'n shake, Mul.."  Scully replied
weakly before fading out and falling asleep
again.  

Mulder pulled her legs around and hung them
outside the car and gently bent her forward
over her knees.  He shook her shoulders
again when she failed to respond.

"No, Muller, do'n..."  Scully stopped
mid-sentence, her eyes suddenly wide open,
and vomited, further messing Mulder's shoes.

Mulder regarded his soiled shoes momentarily
with obvious revulsion before looking back up
into Scully's tired face.

Scully's head slowly fell back down to her
lap as her eyes re-closed. 

"Oh, Scully."  Mulder sighed, and reached out
and stroked the back of her head.  "Scully, I
need to get you some help."  Mulder gently
wrapped one arm around her back,  scooped up
her legs with the other and picked her up.

XXXXXXXXXX

Mercy Memorial Hospital
Intensive Care Unit
11:40 a.m.



Mulder paced the hallways of the intensive
care unit, making it the third place that he
had paced in that morning.  He had heard no
new news since Scully had been transferred
there from the emergency department earlier.

"Mr. Mulder?"  A nurse with curly dark brown
hair, in a white uniform, with multiple
colored balloons decorating the top, stood at
the end of the hallway, holding a door open.

Mulder nodded and headed towards her.  

"From what I understand, you came with  Ms.
Scully into the emergency room?"  She asked
him as he joined her at the door.


"Yes, actually I brought her in, we work
together."  Mulder explained, trying to see
around to the other side of the door.  "Is
she okay?  Can I see her?"  Mulder asked
anxiously.

"Actually, the doctor is in with her right
now."  She explained with a sympathetic
smile.

"I would like to know what is going on, I
have waited patiently for almost an hour now
and I would like some answers!" Mulder
demanded, his voice gradually rising as he
spoke.

"Actually, I just finished, thank you Nurse
Fueller."  Dr. Voight stepped out of the
room, his chart in hand.

"What's going on?"  Mulder demanded again as
he regarded the older man.

"As I am certain that they explained to you
back in the emergency room, Mr. Mulder, your
colleague is severely dehydrated.
Furthermore, I believe she has been suffering
from bacterial gastroenteritis, that would
explain the dehydration and the symptoms that
you described her as having recently."  Dr.
Voight tapped the folder on his hand as he
explained.

"So, how did this happen?"  

"This isn't uncommon in people who frequent
eating places away from home, which I
understand  your profession causes you many
such occasions." He responded, matter of
fact.

Mulder nodded understandingly.

"She is being administered intravenous fluids
and I have started her on some strong
antibiotics as well.  She had a close call,
but she should be back to her self soon." 
Dr.  Voight explained.

"Can I see her?"  Mulder asked, heading
towards the open door again.

"That would be fine."  Dr.  Voight
momentarily blocked Mulder's way.  "And
son..."  He added resting a hand on his
shoulder, his ring shining like a serpent's
eye in the florescent lights.  "Don't worry,
I'll take good care of her."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX


End of Chapter 8.
Continued in Chapter 9.