Date sent: Wed, 30 Jul 1997

TITLE: "After the Razor's Edge" (1/1)
BY: Ten

CATEGORY: V, "mildish" MSR (I was going to keep this one
as deep friendship, but when I looked back at some of the
things said in the ep, it was impossible!)
SUMMARY: What happens to Mulder in "Aubrey" between his
rescue by Scully and the end when Scully is typing.
TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING: "Aubrey", mild "Lazarus" and
the second season abduction arc.

DISCLAIMER: The X-Files and the characters of Mulder and
Scully belong to Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions
and Fox Broadcasting, and are used without permission. No
copyright infringement is intended, no profit will be

THANKS: To Debbie for the sterling editing job, and to
Doctor Crockett for invaluable medical advice.
(Especially on finding a reason why Mulder could be
seemingly so lucid after getting whacked with a fire
extinguisher.) Any mistakes are mine.

X-Files: " After the Razor's Edge" (1/1)
by Ten, July 1997

Dana Scully hurried over to squat beside her partner. She
and the policemen had entered to find Detective B.J.
Morrow about to cut Mulder's throat - somehow she had
managed to sprawl him on the floor, and Scully doubted a
simple push would have been enough to down her six-foot
tall partner.

He was slowly sitting up, a trickle of blood coming from
his hairline. In the dimness of the room she had hoped it
was just a shadow.

"It's all right. It's gonna be all right. It'll be okay."
Lieutenant Tillman was whispering reassurance to B.J. and
himself. Even though the married man had caught his lover
in mid-attack, he was clearly having a hard time
accepting she was responsible for the spate of recent
murders. B.J. stared blankly at the floor. Her
grandfather's body was slumped in the corner: her last

Scully gently put her hand to the back of Mulder's head
to support him. He looked justifiably shaken and leaned
into her touch for a moment, drawing on her presence. It
seemed he might collapse against her. "We need paramedics
in here!" she called to another police officer. Good
thing they had brought more officers with them. Tillman
was too dazed to take charge.

/Poor Mulder.../ Scully reflected as she tried to get a
good look at him. Remembering his flippant words when he
was explaining the case to her: "I've always been
intrigued by women named B.J."

Never again.

/Poor B.J. too./ What could have happened to her to
trigger this violent repeat of her grandfather's crimes?
Could finding out she was Cokely's grandchild have
snapped her?

Mulder sat up straighter. His need of comfort and/or
support had passed, or merely been suppressed. "Are you
all right?" She kept her hands hovering, just in case.
She wanted to wrap her arms around him; to keep him safe
from the memory of the attack; for him to keep her safe
as well, from the nightmares of Barry that she couldn't
admit to. And her fear of losing him. She managed to
suppress her need as efficiently as his.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." He pushed himself to his feet
with a bit of help from her. "Thanks for the rescue."

He seemed steady and lucid enough, and the blood was
coming from a little cut above his forehead that wouldn't
even need a stitch, but Scully wished they could get more
light in this room so she could check him for sign of
concussion. There was a drop of blood on his neck where
the razor had been pressed and she swallowed hard.

The wish for more light was suddenly granted, other
policemen opening blinds and turning on lights to get a
good view of the crime scene and body. One nearly tripped
over an object on the floor and pointed to it. "We'll
need photos and prints taken."

Scully looked. A small fire extinguisher. Dinted. "Mulder
- did she hit you with -"

Tillman's voice cut her off. He was arguing with someone
who wanted to handcuff B.J. "She needs a doctor! Put
those things away!"

The policeman swallowed in the face of his superior. "Uh,
Agent Scully got us to call for an ambulance on the way
here. It's just arrived."

"Take B.J. out to them - under guard and have someone
with her at all times," Scully insisted. B.J. went
unresistingly towards the door, like a little girl. Now
to get the more difficult child out there.

She turned to Mulder, who was his own gun for the
cop who'd found it halfway across the room. "Mulder, come
on - I want you checked out."

He laughed. "Scully, she knocked me down but I'm fine.
And I have to give my statement."

She set her jaw and he grudgingly capitulated to being
examined by one of the ambulance officers, while the
other settled B.J. onto the stretcher. The officer
couldn't find anything wrong, and then B.J. began
screaming and lashing out, causing them to have to put
her in restraints and take off for the Gainesville
hospital at speed.

Mulder and Scully climbed into the back of a police car
to follow. Mulder commented, "Good thing I rang you to
warn about those roadworks on the highway that caught me
- you made good time."

"Backroads have their uses. Though you should have
remembered they were setting up to start work when we
first went to see Cokely."

He shrugged an apology. The cop in the front passenger
seat decided to begin taking his statement on the run,
since it was a fifteen minute drive into town at legal
speed. Scully listened to Mulder's version of events and
his matter-of-fact report of being attacked by B.J. The
police were a bit shell shocked over the actions of their
friend and colleague.

Scully determined that when they got to the hospital, she
would insist that Mulder stay in at least for the usual
observation period. She began to build up her side of the
argument she knew would eventuate. They were nearing the
outskirts of Gainesville when Mulder inexplicably sat
forward in the seat, or at least tried to. He stared down
in confused annoyance at the seatbelt restraining him and
began fumbling to release it.

"Mulder? Hey, Mulder, what are you doing?"

"I have to get off the floor..."

"Mulder - you're not on the floor. You're in the car,

"No, I have to -"

/Oh God.../ Scully tried to stop him opening the release
catch. The glimpse she got of his eyes was enough to
confirm that he wasn't fully conscious. Something was
very wrong. "Get us to the hospital, *now*!" she demanded
of their driver, who hit the siren and the accelerator

"No, Mulder. Just sit still. You're concussed, you have
to sit still. We're in the police car."

She hoped the hospital wasn't far. And she hoped
concussion was all it was. Still trying to talk him down,
she was struggling to hold his arms, as he was now
attempting to open the car door.

"She'll get me!" he cried out. "Let me go!" He twisted
his head from side to side, as if trying to avoid slashes
from a razor.

"It's okay, it's going to be all right," she soothed,
vaguely aware on another level where she had heard those
words today; holding him as best she could as his arms
came up as if fending her off.

When the police car pulled up at the emergency entrance,
B.J. had already been admitted. The policeman driving the
agents had called ahead to warn about Mulder, so the ER
staff were ready and waiting with an examination bed. Now
barely even semi-conscious, he didn't fight as he was
transferred onto it.

"He was attacked about half an hour ago - small fire
extinguisher to the head," Scully informed the attending
doctor on the run. "He was conscious and lucid in the
interim; it wasn't until about five minutes ago there was
any sign of trouble."

They did a skull x-ray and a CT scan. The latter picked
up the damaged area: a torn middle meningeal artery in
the surface of the brain forward of his left ear. There
was a build up of blood between his brain and skull. If
untreated, he would die. The staff rushed him into
emergency surgery to relieve the pressure and tie the

It took an hour. Scully sat in the waiting room, praying
that Mulder would not drift into a coma.

The surgeon came out. Mulder had been lucky they had been
on the way to the hospital when his consciousness began
to drop. A person with that damage could seem perfectly
lucid and unaffected for around half an hour. No cursory
examination would have picked it up - but Scully's
instinct had jumped past that. Fortunately there were no
fractures or brain compression. He had avoided a
respirator and a coma.

Mulder would be in the hospital for three to five days.
Then he would have to be off work between a fortnight and
a month.

Probably a fortnight. He always bounced back quickly.
Scully sighed and wondered how she would manage to keep
him down for that amount of time. Well, she'd done before
and she'd be doing it again for sure... She smiled at the
memory of how concerned for her Mulder had been after her
return. So protective she didn't know whether to hug him
or kill him. Yet *he* was the one with the worrying track
record. *He* was the one with all the hospital stays and
denial of any trouble. She was the one who managed fine -
he shouldn't be so concerned.

If he wanted to be that way, then for both their sakes it
would be better for him to be concerned on the right time
to DUCK!

She went to check on how B.J. was - a quick look because
she wanted to sit by Mulder - and her earlier words to
the policewoman came back to her as she watched Tillman,
sitting by the woman who was not his wife, who was
carrying his child.

"I've had feelings for people I've worked with.
Interoffice relationships can be complicated."

She had meant Jack by that. And Tony from Quantico in her
second year of teaching. That was all.

Not Mulder.

/And who's in denial now?/

Dana Scully went and waited by the bedside of the man she
could not yet admit was her lover, in almost every sense.

The next day Scully arrived back at the hospital and went
to the desk. The nurse started to talk to her, then
stopped. They could hear faint screaming.

"Mulder!" Scully raced for his room, disregarding the
logic of no running in hospital corridors.

Left turn, right turn. "B.J., don't - NO! NO! B.J. ..."
The door was open, orderlies and a nurse were already in
there. Scully burst in to find Mulder on the floor over
the other side of his bed. He was on his back, trying
desperately to push away from the vicinity of the
orderlies, who weren't touching him, but attempting to
talk him down.

"Sir - you're in hospital. You were injured, but you're
safe now. Do you remember?"

Scully went round, registering the messed sheets pulled
practically off the bed. One bedrail was down. He'd
nightmared and fallen out. /Why is the rail down? Thank
God it is - he didn't fall as far, but who the hell put
it down? I ordered them to keep them up until I know for
sure he's back to normal. Damn, I should have stayed with
him.../ She'd only gone back to the motel for two hours
to shower and change and check in at the police station.

"Leave him, please. Let me talk to him." The orderlies
gave her room, seeing him relax a bit at her voice and
presence. "Mulder," she said gently, seeing he was still
only half awake.


"Yes, B.J.'s not here. You had a bad dream. You're safe.
These people are trying to stop you hurting yourself.
They just want to get you back to bed, get you off the

"I...I have to get off the floor," he agreed.

"That's right. Good. They and I are going to help you up
and back to bed. Will you let us?"

He tried to nod then stopped, more awake but still
affected and shaking. He didn't let her out of his sight
as they settled him down and pulled the covers back. He'd
lost the I.V. in the tumble, so they started a new one.

"I'm staying right here," Scully promised. Then she
remembered something and turned to the nurse. "Why was
his bedrail down?" she demanded.

The nurse looked nervous. "I was about to do a neuro
check. He woke up and stared at me...and just went
frantic... I tried to stop him but he scrambled out. I'm
pretty sure he didn't hit his head. In fact, he was
trying to protect it with his arms."

"Oh..." Scully blushed. /Of course. Why didn't I think
before I snapped?/ "I see, thank you."

The neuro check was made and the nurse pointedly fixed
the rail. She looked down at the exhausted patient and
informed Dana she was going to get a mild sedative to
settle him, though not enough to zone him out completely
and ruin the next neuro check.

"Wait," Scully said, knowing she was in danger of being
thrown out. "It shouldn't be necessary. Just give me a
little while." She met Mulder's gaze, still fixed on her.
"I'm here. Now go back to sleep."

"I don't want to sleep." That familiar set of the mouth.
"What's the point? They'll just wake me for another
check. "Do this, Mr Mulder," " he parroted. " "Do that.
Can you move this, can you raise that?" I know what I'd
*like* to do when they -"

"Not for a few hours yet, they won't," she hastily cut
in. She hid a smile, relieved by the reappearance of
*her* Mulder. "Sleep. You need it. Or I'll get them to
sedate you."

"Now Scully. You know I know they won't. I've had enough
concussions to pick up a few facts on how hospitals

"They will sedate you enough to take the edge off if need
be. And frankly, you're all edges!" He grinned and gave a
long, sleepy blink which she thought was very cute.
Victory was close at hand. "I'll be here," she reminded
him, squeezing his hand. "Someone's got to observe you to
make sure you didn't just undo all that fine surgery...
And that would be me." She did not realise her thumb was
stroking over the back of his hand, back and forth,
because it was the most natural thing in the world to be
doing. "Please just try to drift off."

"Oh, all right. Okay..." He sighed in defeat, and tried
to sound flippant. "You can sweet talk me into anything."
But he didn't let go of her hand.

When he'd woken she had been there and after a while on
his insistence had gone to the motel to get some sleep
for herself, promising to come back later on. None of the
staff dared mention a little thing called visiting hours
to her. They'd tried before and being intelligent people,
learnt from their mistakes.

He looked up from the file he was reading when she
returned. "Sorry about the performance this morning,

She let her expression show there was nothing to forgive,
and saw him relax. "But I do think you should stop
reading that or there might be an encore."

"And how do you know this is about the case? It could be
*my* medical file."

"It's not thick enough for one thing! Tolstoy would be
proud of you. More war than peace though. And you never
bother with your files - you just begin badgering the
doctor about when you can be released. I'm the one who
wades through and translates for you."

"How's B.J.?" He tucked his chin down, but Scully picked
up the swallow he was trying to cover.

Before Scully could answer or reach out to comfort, an
attractive nurse came in, fussing about, and giving
Mulder what Scully's grandma would have called "the glad
eye". Mulder appeared to be ignoring it. /My my, he must
really be below par./

Scully found she was disregarded after the nurse checked
out her ringless left hand. /He's *not* fair game!/ she
wanted to snap. /All because I haven't got a ring doesn't
mean - hang on, what am I thinking?.../

"I'm Dana, Mr Mulder," the nurse said. At that he noticed
her. She gave quite a smile. "If you need anything, feel
free to give me a buzz." She winked and exited. Scully
thought she was overdoing the hip swaying.

Mulder stared thoughtfully after her. "You know, I've
never been intrigued by women named Dana."


"Just *a* woman named Dana."

Scully tried to keep her tone conversational, "For how

Mulder glanced at his watch - or tried to, coming up with
his I.D. bracelet instead - then frowned in
consideration. "About five minutes... plus one hour,
fourteen days, nine months and two years. Approximately."

A stare. She tried to casually let out the breath she
realised she had been holding. Then Scully began
giggling. He laughed.

What they shared was something Tillman and B.J. had not
come close to. Nor could all the rings in the world
symbolise it.

The End.