XxXxX

Chapter Thirteen

XxXxX

Fire swept into the room in an instant, crackling up the 
walls and igniting the drapes.  Lee-Lee coughed.

"What are we going to do?" she yelled.

I twisted around, searching for an answer.  Even if it were 
unlocked, the door was framed with flames.  "Can you stand?" 
I yelled back.

"I don't know!"

I wiggled on the floor like a worm until I found a way to 
brace my legs enough to reach a kneeling position.  From 
there, I rocked backwards onto my feet.  Lee-Lee followed my 
lead.  "We can't hop out of here!" she said.  "It's too far.  
We'll never make it!"

The heat was making it hard to think.  Sweat ran down my neck 
in rivulets, and the smoke felt like acid in my eyes.  "Hang 
on, hang on!"

I spotted the mirror again, the one hanging over the mantel.  
Like the expert hop-scotch player I'd once been, I jumped my 
way across the room.  

"What are you doing?" Lee-Lee screamed.  "We've got to get 
out of here!"

I slide my head under the heavy gold frame until I had 
sufficient force to lift it from its hanger.  It slid three 
inches up the wall, and then I ducked out of the way.  It hit 
the floor with a crash and shattered into several large 
pieces.  "Come here!" I yelled to Lee-Lee.  "Hurry!"

Red-faced and breathless, she hopped within a few inches of 
me.  "What?"

"Grab this,"  I knelt down and snatched a large shard of 
glass for her to hold.  "Keep the pointed edge facing out."

Back to back, we positioned ourselves so that the ropes 
around my wrists slid along the makeshift blade.  The flames 
crept higher as we began a frantic, awkward dance.  The wall 
paper was peeling like a bad sunburn, and smoke was pressing 
down on us from above.

And somewhere in the house, Mulder was dying.

"Faster!" I hollered.

"I'm trying!"

Several times we missed the rope and sliced into my hand 
instead, but I barely registered the pain.  At last, the 
knots began to give way.  I twisted my hands to speed the 
process, and within seconds, I was free.

"Now me, now me."

I took the glass to Lee-Lee's knots and released her with 
just a few judicious strokes.

"Oh thank God," she breathed, rubbing her wrists.

We bent and loosened the ties at our ankles.  The ropes 
slipped away. 

"The only way out is through that door," I said, nodding at 
the fire-ringed archway.  "Tuck your hair inside your shirt 
and stay low to the ground." She nodded, and we prepared to 
walk through the flames.  

At the door, with the fire swaying and popping, Lee-Lee 
hesitated.  "You first."

I pulled my coat up over my head with shaking fingers.  
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and ran into the 
flames.  It took less than a second to cross, but I felt the 
piercing heat sear all the way to my skin.  My face was 
burned, and the end of my coat caught fire.  I stamped it 
out.

"Come ON!" I yelled to Lee-Lee.  I could see her frozen in 
place behind the wall of fire.  At last, she darted across 
the threshold, emerging with an armful of flames.

"Ahhh, get it off me!  Get it of me!"  She ran around in a 
circle until I tackled her to the ground, rolling her so the 
fire was extinguished.  She shivered under me.

"It's hot and cold at the same time.  How can I be cold?"  
Her voice was hoarse, and her eyes were glassy. 

I needed to get her out of there before she slipped into 
shock.

I needed to find Mulder.

"Get up," I said, pulling her to her feet.  She stumbled, 
leaning on me heavily as the walls began to groan around us.  
I remembered suddenly what Kazdin had said about the roof 
caving in.  "Let's go," I ordered, marching her toward the 
hall.  Smaller fires reached out with fronds of orange, 
grabbing at us hungrily as we walked past.

The front door finally appeared in view, seeming to bulge and 
wobble through the haze of smoke.  As we drew nearer, it 
shattered with a crack.  One piece swung inward on its hinges 
while the other splintered on the ground.  In the doorway, 
stood a man with a mask and a large axe.

"Oh, thank God," Lee-Lee said, sagging against me.  A second 
man appeared in the hall.  He took Lee-Lee and began leading 
me out of the building. 

"No!"  I pulled out of his grasp.

He turned, looking at me with wild eyes. "Come on!" he said 
through his mask.  "It's gonna collapse!"

"Mulder!" I hollered, backing away.  He lunged for me with 
his free arm.

"You're crazy!"

The smoke was filling up the hall, and he lost me in the 
clouds.  Coughing madly, I dropped to the floor and began 
crawling back the way I'd come.  My eyes were almost swollen 
shut.  "Mulder!" I screamed as loudly as I could.  "Mulder, 
it's me!  Where are you?"

There was no answer.

My lungs burned as though I had swallowed the flames, and I 
could feel my throat closing off.  "Mulder..."

I reached the front hall, which was ablaze from three sides. 
Whichwaywhichway?  There were stairs and two doors, but only 
one right choice.  I was fuzzy, light-headed, in desperate 
need of oxygen.  Blinking through my tears, I considered my 
options.  "Oh, please," I whispered.  "Mulder, where are 
you?"

The flames danced and swayed.  

I chose the door on the left.  

I began inching toward it, my palms blistering on the hot 
wooden floor, when a shape emerged from the fire.  A woman, 
nearly transparent in the glow of the fire.

She was tall, with a tattered dress and long black hair.  
Elysian, I realized.  I watched, paralyzed, as she drifted 
past me and up the stairs. 

Mulder. 

I gulped as much air as I could and followed her.  

The smoke was thicker upstairs, black and bitter like 
yesterday's coffee.  I slunk along the main hall but found no 
trace of Elysian.  "Mulder!" I yelled once more.

"Scully!"

Oh, thank God.  My relief energized me to push through the 
billowing waves and reach the next door.  Inside, I could 
barely make out Jeff's body, and Mulder, alive and bound with 
rope in the corner.

"Scully," he said, breaking off into a rattling cough.  "Over 
here."  I crept toward the sound of his voice.

"Hang on, Mulder.  I'm going to get you out of here." 

I reached his foot first and followed it up to the rest of 
him.  He was sweaty and shaking, but managed a weak version 
of his trademark smile.  "You were really going for the 
dramatic rescue this time, weren't you, Scully?"

I felt his pulse.  It was racing, but his respiration was 
shallow.  There was blood on his collar.  "Where are you 
hurt?" I asked.

"Hit my head on the side of the door in the crash," he said, 
coughing again.  "Maybe sprained an arm, too."

"Let's get you out of here."  My fingers were raw with burns, 
and I struggled with the knots around his wrists.  He groaned 
as I released him.  "You okay?"

"Can't...breathe."

I pulled the ropes off his ankles, giving him a slight 
squeeze.  "We're getting out of here right now.  Come on."

Our air pocket had disappeared; the carbon monoxide was 
making me weak, dizzy.  As I crawled toward the door, I could 
hear Mulder wheezing behind me.  His injured arm was making 
it difficult for him to move.

"This way, Mulder," I said to encourage him.  "We've got to 
hurry."

He coughed.  "Coming.  You...keep...going." 

I waited for him in the hallway, where fiery pieces of 
molding were dropping from the ceiling.  He emerged from the 
haze with a gasp.  I curled my fingers around his good arm.  
"Come on, come on.  We're almost there."

It was a lie, and he knew it.

"Scully...you go.  Get help."

"No."  I knew with certainty that if I left him he would die.  
"You can make it, Mulder."

Chest heaving, he crawled into the hallway with me.  "I'll 
slow you down."

"We'll both go slowly, Mulder, but we're leaving here 
together."

He laid his head on the ground, looking up at me through 
slitted eyes.  "Bossy."

"That's right, and I say we're going.  Now move."

He staggered up on all fours again.  "Which way?"

There was a crash from below, followed by a groaning sound, 
but I could not see anything through the black smoke.  The 
back stairs and the front were equally clogged.  When I 
glanced at Mulder again, he was collapsed on the ground.  

"Mulder!"  I choked as I shook him.  "Wake up.  We're going."

"Mmmm."  Mulder began to follow me with sluggish movements, 
and I knew we were running out of time.  The carbon monoxide 
was stealing all the oxygen from our blood.

"Keep going, Mulder."

We had advanced only a few feet when I saw her again, 
standing by the back stairs.  Mulder froze, gagging.  I 
tugged him harder, certain now that we were going the right 
direction.  The ghostly image lingered for several moments 
before evaporating into the swirls of smoke.  Seconds later, 
my fingers slid over the first step.  "This is it," I said.

Mulder went down first, slipping feet-first around the first 
bend.  His motor control was almost gone.  Every cell in my 
body was screaming for oxygen, but I kept moving.  At the 
bottom, the fire reappeared with a vengeance; it was like 
walking into the sun.  

"Scully," Mulder rasped as he extended his hand back to me.  
Our palms met, slick with sweat.  "C'mon."

The kitchen was melting, the cupboards scorched and the 
linoleum curled.  We faltered several times en route to the 
door, but at last we found the opening where someone had 
chopped it down.  

Air.  It hit us like a ton of bricks, and I thought my lungs 
might burst right through my chest.  I sucked in huge breaths 
but it was too late; the world was starting to go black.

Mulder collapsed right on the threshold.  I made it as far as 
the yard.

"I need the EMTS now!" someone yelled over my head.

The next thing I knew, men in crisp white shirts with the 
Caduceus symbol on the sleeve were kneeling over me.  "Agent 
Scully, can you hear me?" one of them asked, enunciating each 
word like I was a small child.

I tried to answer but couldn't speak around the oxygen mask.  
"Mmmfine," I said, beginning to struggle.

"Lie still," the man soothed.  "You're dehydrated and you've 
inhaled a lot of smoke.  We need to get some fluid and oxygen 
back into your body before you can go anywhere."

He pressed the mask back into place, but I tugged it away 
again.  "Mulder."  The word grated against the swollen 
tissues in my throat.  

"He's been taken to Lawrence General Hospital, and they're 
taking very good care of him, I'm sure."

We wrestled with the mask again as I tried to get more 
information out.  "He's okay?"  

The EMT shot a glance at his partner that I recognized 
immediately -- how much should we tell her?  He's dead, I 
thought briefly, in a panic.  They're lying to keep me calm.  
I had dim memories of him falling in the doorway, a curtain 
of fire at his back.  Oh, God.

I sat up between them, displacing my blanket and tangling my 
IV line.  "Tell me."

"Easy, easy.  Your partner is in bad shape, I won't lie to 
you.  He was upstairs, with the worst of the smoke, and the 
carbon monoxide had more time to get into his system."

At his words, the past hour came flooding back in a hot, 
painful rush.  Jeff was dead.  Mulder was hurt.  Andy was 
missing.  I needed to get up.

"Agent Scully, you need to go to the hospital."  The EMTs 
tried to restrain me as I fumbled with my blanket.  "You need 
to stay on the oxygen for at least another hour, and there 
are burns on your hands and face."

Vaguely, I knew this.  My face was stretched taut with the 
burns, and my hands were raw and swollen.  "I'm fine," I 
croaked.  "Let me up."

The EMT looked flustered.  "Agent Scully, please..."

I ignored him and staggered to my feet.  Turning around, I 
saw the fire still raged out of control.  My dizziness held 
me paralyzed as the flames seemed to spin in circles before 
my eyes.  I searched the swaying fire for any sign of the 
figure I'd seen inside, but she had vanished in the orange 
light.

Orange.

The color of insanity.

xxx

I shiver under my blanket, chilled despite the fact that my 
skin is scorched taut by my ordeal in the flames.  The hair 
on my arm is singed black and dissolves into ash at my touch.

Eventually, Kazdin comes over and touches my elbow.  I jump 
at the contact.  "Sorry," he murmurs.  "Are you okay?"

Fresh tears sting my injured eyes; they clog my throat with 
welling pain.  "No," I whisper.  "I'm not."

He moves to stand between me and the dwindling fire, 
wrenching my gaze from it at last.  "What I can do?" he asks.

Abe Centara's story is finished.  There is no more I can do 
here.  "I need to go to the hospital," I said.  "I need to 
see Mulder."

XxXxX

The burns on my hands are worse than I'd realized, and I 
leave the emergency room like a mummy in training.   They 
offer me a bed, which I accept but don't use, and a portable 
oxygen tank, which I do.  I drag it like a vacuum cleaner 
through the waxy halls until I reach intensive care.  The 
staff there must have seen some horrific things, because they 
don't look at all shocked by my swollen eyes, bandaged hands 
and blistered skin.  Instead, a blonde woman with tiny 
freckles takes me aside and speaks softly to me about Mulder.

"Considering the length of his exposure, your partner is 
doing very well.  Did they explain to you downstairs the 
primary danger of smoke inhalation?"

I nod.  "The carbon monoxide binds to the hemoglobin in the 
blood in place of oxygen; without oxygen, the body's tissues 
begin to die."

"That's right.  And this often triggers an injury response in 
the lungs that can cause congestion and eventually 
respiratory failure.  This is what happened to Agent Mulder.  
We have put him on a ventilator to assist his breathing, and 
we're treating some moderate burns in his nose and throat 
area."

I feel numb, nodding with her words but wishing only to see 
Mulder.  "Will be he all right?"

"His blood oxygen levels have been improving steadily.  We'll 
know more in the next twelve hours, when the lasting tissue 
damage will be more apparent."

"Can I see him?"

She smiles.  "Of course.  Just don't be too shocked by what 
you see."

It can't be worse than anything I've seen before, I think, 
but I am wrong.  It is a hundred times worse.  This time is 
he is hurt because of me, because I was careless at the house 
and let Purcell get the better of me.  If I had paid more 
attention to the smell, if I had done a more thorough 
exploration of the house instead of playing memory games with 
Lee-Lee, Mulder would not be lying in the hospital now.  If I 
had not taken her from the station without backup, without 
letting anyone know where I was going, Andy Purcell would not 
have escaped.

I made a grievous mistake, and Mulder is paying the price.

I close the door behind me, lingering near the threshold as I 
force myself to look at him.  His color is ashen gray, and 
there is a pink tube emerging from his throat.  Beside the 
bed, his heart monitor beeps a slow but steady cadence.  I 
find myself counting the sounds inside my head.

One...
Two...
Three...

Just keep counting, Mulder.

I tug my oxygen with me into the room and maneuver as close 
as I can to the bed.  "Mulder, it's me," I say, awkwardly 
patting his arm with one my gauze mittens.  "I'm okay.  We 
made it."

I don't really expect him to answer, but the silence pierces 
my heart all the same.  There is a plastic chair against the 
wall, and I scrape it across the floor to the bed.  Resting 
my cheek on the cool sheets, I study the delicate arch of his 
fingers.  

He sleeps.

I keep counting.

XxXxX

On the third day, I am discharged from the hospital.  What 
this really means is that I am no longer paying for my space 
on the couch in the waiting room for Intensive Care.  Mulder 
is breathing on his own but is not yet awake.  The doctors 
continue to worry about pneumonia and infection.

I exist in a strange state of limbo between night and day, in 
the pale green room with its under-stuffed couches and 
omnipresent fluorescent lighting.  Cathleen provides some 
rhythm by dropping in every afternoon.  She coaxes me to eat 
with homemade vanilla pudding, vegetable broth, and other 
foods that don't scratch or burn the inside of my throat.  
Today she brings something more than food.

"Hey."

It's Lee-Lee.  She hangs back in the entryway as Cathleen 
sets a tupperware container full of chicken noodle soup on 
the magazine table in front of me.

"I'll be right back," Cathleen whispers, and Lee-Lee and I 
are left alone.

She rubs the toe of her sneaker into the worn carpet.  "Bet 
I'm the last person you want to see right now."

"Not at all.  I've been wondering how you were doing."

"They haven't found Andy yet."

"I know.  Detective Kazdin has kept me updated."

"Yeah, he wants to keep me here in protective custody in case 
Andy tries to kill me again, but..."  She shrugged.  "I can't 
do this anymore."

"Do what?"

"Live in this town, where everyone knows.  I walked into the 
diner today to get my last paycheck and everyone stopped 
talking.  My friend Sharen could hardly look at me."

I want to tell her it's not her fault, but somehow, with 
Mulder lying burned and battered in intensive care, I can't 
get the words out.  "You're not responsible for your 
stepbrothers' actions," I say instead.

She looks sad.  "Aren't I?  All I know is that if I hadn't 
come back to Tiburton, four people would still be alive.  You 
wouldn't have gotten hurt, and your partner wouldn't be here 
in the hospital."

I let that pass with silence.  "You cleared your mother's 
name," I point out finally.  "That's something, right?"

"Something I should have done a long time ago."  She sucks 
her hands inside her sleeves and rocks back on her heels.  
"There's a lot of things I should have done a long time ago.  
I'm not going to wait anymore."

"Maybe you should stay for a few more days," I say, a little 
afraid for her.  "Kazdin is right that your stepbrother is 
still a danger to you."  

She shakes her head.  "No, it's okay.  I have a friend in San 
Francisco who's letting me crash at her place until I figure 
out what I'm going to do next.  And if Andy does find me...I 
guess that will mean it's meant to be.  I'm prepared to 
suffer the consequences."

"Lee-Lee..."

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not going to go looking for it.  But 
I can't help thinking that it's not right that I'm the only 
one to walk away."  She broke off, looking at the floor.  "Or 
maybe that is my punishment, who knows?  Anyway, I just came 
here to say thank you.  You put yourself on the line for me 
when I gave you no reason to.  So...thanks."

"You're welcome."

She leaves without another word, and a moment later Cathleen 
returns.  "I found frozen yogurt today," she says, setting 
her crutches aside and taking the seat next to me.  I accept 
a cup but then pick at the chocolate peak with my plastic 
spoon.  "How did it go with Lee-Lee?" she asks after a 
moment.  

"It was strange," I reply, and give her an abbreviated 
version of our conversation.

"I don't blame her for leaving," Cathleen says when I've 
finished.  "There were many days when I thought I'd pick up 
and leave, too.  People never forget around here.  You're the 
same person from cradle to grave, no matter what." She 
shifts, and her braces rub against the chair.

"But you've decided to stay?" I ask.

"Yeah," she says, her voice soft.  "For the same reason I 
almost left.  I liked the person I was before the accident, 
and I think maybe staying here is the only way I'll ever get 
her back."

She smiles, and I force myself to return it.  "What about 
Kazdin?"

"Oh, he's staying, too," she answers, her smile widening.  
"And that's good enough for now."

We ate for a few moments in silence.  "So maybe it was true 
after all," she says at length.

"What was?"

"The legend.  The story said Elysian would come back and 
bring Tiburton to its knees.  The way folks are walking 
around in a daze right now, I'd say she did a damn good job."

I remember the silent figure I'd seen floating in the fire.  
"No, I think the legend is wrong.  I think Elysian never 
really wanted revenge."

"No?"

"I think maybe all she ever wanted was justice."

XxXxX

I am roused at 2 a.m. by the night nurse gently shaking my 
shoulder.  "He's awake, dear," she whispers.  "But don't let 
him talk too much, okay?"

I don't care if he says a single word.  I just want to see 
those eyes brimming with life again.  

When I reach the room, his head is turned toward the door, 
his eyes open, waiting for me.  I make no attempt to hide my 
smile.  "Hi," I say, joining him near the bed.  "Welcome 
back."

His lips curve in answer, and he touches my bandaged right 
hand with gentle fingers.  "Look at you," he says, as though 
speaking through sand paper.

"Shhh, Mulder, don't talk.  It's not good for you."

The look he gives me says knows this, but when has he ever 
done anything that's good for him?  "You really okay?," he 
croaks, and because I'm exhausted and giddy inside, I let him 
get away with it.

"I'm all right.  So is Lee-Lee.  Jeff's dead, of course, and 
no one has been able to figure out what happened to Andy."

He frowns but keeps his mouth shut.

"The doctors say you're doing really well," I tell him.  "But 
they are going to want to keep you hear for at least another 
week, maybe two."

I'd expected him to start fussing at that news, but instead 
he raised his hand to cup the side of my face.  His smile is 
soft and affectionate.  "Walk through fire for me, Scully?"

I take his hand and kiss each finger.  "Always."  His eyelids 
begin to droop, so I reluctantly pull away.  "You get some 
sleep," I say, brushing his hair back as best I can with my 
wrapped hand.  "I'll see you in the morning."

As I reach the door, I hear the rasp of his voice again.  
"Scully."

I turn.  "Yeah?"

"You saw her?  Elysian?"

I hesitated a moment, then nod.  "Yes, I saw her."

His eyes are full of a wonder I have not seen in months.  
"Me, too," he whispers.  "Me, too."

XxXxX

End chapter thirteen.  Continued.