Nick's Cabin - Oct. 10 - 10:22 a.m.
Scully was having a bad dream. In it, she was riding on the elevator at work when the cables broke and the car began plummeting downward. She screamed in terror, fearing a crash landing, when suddenly the elevator slowed its descent and began rising smoothly upwards again. When it got to the top floor, she waited impatiently for the doors to open, but nothing happened. She pushed the button on the panel continuously, then picked up the emergency phone to call for help. Before she could say anything, a man's voice came over the receiver. "You're safe now," he told her, then the line went dead. Scully hung the phone up, feeling somewhat calmed by the voice. She was prepared to simply wait for the doors to open. She just hoped that it would be soon, because it was getting stiflingly hot in the little room. She saw that she was wearing a heavy jacket but couldn't seem to locate the zipper to take it off. She felt as though she would roast alive if she didn't get it off soon.
The overheating of her body finally caused Scully to awaken. It took a few seconds to orient herself to her present situation. She sat up in the bed and pushed off the overcoat that covered her as she took in her surroundings. Besides being warm, the room was also fairly dark. The only light came from the tiny rays of sun peeking through the thin seams of the boards nailed over the window. Scully climbed off the bed, then peeled off her own jacket, finding that she was damp with sweat beneath her flannel shirt. A shower and a change of clothes would be nice but first things first. She found the light switch on the wall and flipped it on. The overhead light brightened the room, then flickered and dimmed slightly, letting her know that the cabin's generator was probably in need of attention.
Scully discovered her personal belongings on the dresser, including her gun. She collected the items and checked the gun, pleased to find it still loaded. She grabbed her jacket, and with the gun in hand, cautiously opened the bedroom door and looked out. There were still two candles burning with perhaps only an inch of wax left on each. Still, they provided enough illumination for her to easily spot her host stretched out on the couch, asleep. Scully watched him from a distance for a moment, then allowed herself to relax and put her gun away. He had done nothing to harm her -- other than kidnap her, that is -- and he had probably only done that out of a desperate desire for companionship and to have someone to talk to. That didn't excuse his actions but it made them understandable.
Scully decided not to disturb his sleep. She tiptoed about gracefully and went into the bathroom, flipping on the switch and getting the same dim lighting as in the bedroom. The bathroom window had also been boarded up, though the cracks were wider and allowed a bit more daylight to pour through. She closed and locked the door behind her, then toed aside the pile of clothing on the floor near the toilet. After relieving herself, she inspected the meager contents of the cabinet and drawers. Besides a lack of toilet paper in the place, she noted there were no first aid items at all to be found, not even a bottle of aspirin. Not much as far as toiletries were concerned either. There was soap and shampoo but little else available for personal hygiene needs. Scully took advantage of the soap, cold water and a clean looking washcloth to wash her face and neck and under her arms. She ran her fingers through her tousled hair, wishing she had brought along a barrette or rubber band for a ponytail.
After sprucing herself up as best she could, she went back into the living room. Nick was still asleep, so Scully decided to quietly check out her surroundings. In one corner of the room, she found a small table with a selection of oil paints and brushes, next to an easel with a canvass turned backwards. She picked up the canvass by the edges and turned it around. There was a photograph attached to the top, left corner of the canvass. It was a picture of Nick and Natalie Lambert apparently snapped during a birthday celebration. Scully studied the snapshot first, then compared it to the image in the painting. Though unfinished, and done in an Impressionistic style, Nick had captured Natalie's likeness quite well.
Scully returned the canvass to its stand, then moved into the kitchen area. She checked the refrigerator for breakfast possibilities, but all that she found were unlabeled wine bottles, two full and one half empty. She didn't bother checking the contents. It wasn't all that surprising to find that Nick had a drinking problem to go along with his depression. Scully checked the cupboards next, hoping to at least find some instant coffee or some canned fruit, but apparently, Nick had not done any grocery shopping in a while. Perhaps he was the type who lived off the land, or maybe the drinking had made him not care about eating. There weren't even any cooking utensils or dishes; only a few cups and glasses.
Leaving the kitchen, Scully moved to the front door and opened it, careful to avoid allowing excessive daylight to enter. Stepping onto the porch, she raised her chin to the warming sun. The temperature was already about fifty-five degrees and would probably make it into the upper sixties as predicted by the weatherman yesterday. Scully stepped off the porch and away from the cabin. There didn't appear to be any established vehicle pathways, or foot trails to follow. There was some cleared land of about a hundred feet squared, but after that, nothing but trees. Scully picked the least dense area and worked her way through the foliage. She made a special effort to leave herself a trail back to the cabin by breaking small limbs on the trees and bushes she passed. After a few moments of traveling, the trees and foliage grew sparse and the terrain beyond became a rocky precipice.
Scully was careful in approaching the edge of the cliff. A cautious glance below revealed a sheer drop of a few hundred feet and a rocky landing. On the other side of the deep chasm were more trees; miles and miles of trees shaping the mountain peaks, and no sign of human inhabitants. Obviously, this wasn't the route to town, so Scully turned around and retraced her steps back to the cabin. Once she entered the clearing, she continued to look around for the trail Nick had used to bring her there. He had to have a vehicle parked somewhere nearby, but after a brief search, Scully finally gave up and returned to the cabin.
Upon entering, she glanced at the couch and found Nick the same as when she had left. As she got herself a glass of water from the kitchen, she considered the fact that her host was nocturnal and was likely to sleep the day away. She sipped her water and moved closer to the couch to look at him. It reminded her somewhat of watching Mulder when he slept. Her partner had a way of looking almost childlike in his sleep. Of course, most of the times Scully had watched him sleep were in the hospital while he was recovering from an on the job injury or some unexplained phenomenon. As she watched Nick Knight, she couldn't help but marvel over how handsome and youthful he appeared. His skin was extremely pale and absolutely flawless with no obvious scars or blemishes. Scully was tempted to caress his face simply to see if it was as soft as it looked, but she was afraid she'd be caught in the act. She could just as easily be caught staring. He could open his eyes at any time and catch her standing there gawking.
Although she finally managed to tear her eyes away from his face, they still didn't leave his form. She gazed up and down his blue jean clad figure, very much impressed by his well-toned physique. His jeans fit a bit loosely which made her think he had lost weight recently. No wonder, with no food in the place and only wine to live on. Out of nowhere, a mental picture entered her mind of that firm, trim body pressed hotly against hers, his arms encircling her and their lips locked in a passionate kiss. She quickly shook the image out of her head, having no idea what could have possibly spawned the notion in the first place. Yes, he was an attractive man, but she'd met handsome men before. She even worked side by side with one, and not once had she envisioned such graphic desires. Well, with Mulder, she really couldn't afford to let her mind travel in that direction. With Nick, however, she couldn't help but wonder how things might have been if she had met him under more normal circumstances.
Scully sighed at the futility of such thinking and was about to turn away from him when she noticed how his body was positioned. He lay flat on his back with his arms folded and hands lying crisscrossed atop his chest. It was the way she'd seen many a dead body positioned for burial. It was also the position she'd seen a few suicide victims assume once they had ingested a lethal dose of something to end their life. Scully became instantly concerned when that thought crossed her mind. She began to study Nick in a more professional manner. She stared intently at his chest, waiting for it to rise and fall with the pattern of his breathing, but it didn't.
Scully stepped closer, picked up his wrist and held it lightly between her fingers. She was dismayed at the iciness of his skin and lack of a pulse. Her hand then went to his throat, searching again for a pulse but coming up blank. Dropping to her knees in front of him, she moved his hands aside and pressed her ear against his chest, listening carefully for even the faintest of heartbeats. Her own heart sank when she couldn't detect either a beating heart or a sign of breathing.
"No!" she whimpered woefully, lifting her head and gazing sadly down at him. "What happened? What did you do?" She glanced around for any sign of a drug overdose. There were no empty pill bottles, stray tablets or suicide note to be found. She checked his pockets, then ran her hands beneath him and between the seat cushions of the sofa, but still came up empty. She looked at his face again and saw how serene his features appeared. It looked as though he had died peacefully in his sleep. Scully contemplated trying CPR on him, but figured that he was more than likely this way even before she had awaken and way too much time had now passed since then. Even if she was able to get a pulse, his brain would have undoubtedly suffered irreversible and severe damage from lack of oxygen.
Scully placed the hands of the deceased back into their original position then slowly rose and went into the bedroom to get something to cover him with. Grabbing Nick's overcoat, she went back into the living room and threw the coat over the body, although she hesitated in covering his face. She'd seen dead many times and in many ways. It was usually bloody, often grotesque, and never very pretty, until now. In fact, he was beautiful, a descriptive term Scully had never really associated with men, much less a dead one. She sat down on the edge of the couch near his waist and reached her hand out to caress his cheek with the back of her fingers. He was ice cold to the touch but his flesh was surprisingly soft.
"I know you were in a good deal of emotional pain," she spoke to him in a near whisper. "I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to help you, but... well, I hope you've found peace now." She heaved a deep sigh before finally withdrawing her hand and pulling the top of the coat slowly over his face. She sat a moment longer, silently offering a prayer over the remains, then found herself wiping away the tears that suddenly flooded her eyes. She'd only known him a few hours, but in that brief amount of time, she'd made a connection with him and therefore found his passing a bitter blow.
After a few more minutes of mourning, Scully finally rose to her feet and began to ponder her own fate. She regretted that she never got any information from Nick as to their present location or in which direction civilization lay. She vaguely recalled him warning her that it could be potentially dangerous for her to travel alone during the day because of the treacherous terrain, and from what little she'd seen thus far, she had no reason to doubt him. Whether or not he truly intended to escort her back to town, she had no way of knowing; but she honestly didn't believe that he had planned on dying and leaving her stranded.
Scully did a thorough search of the cabin, seeking a map and any useful camping equipment. She came up empty on both accounts with not so much as a compass or canteen. It didn't make sense that someone living in the woods would do so without the basics for wilderness survival. Then again, Nick Knight's brain had not been functioning on all cylinders. He had been thinking kill a cow, kidnap the first woman he sees and bring her up to the cabin so she could keep him company. She doubted that he had ever meant her any harm. He had been lonely, confused and simply in desperate need of human contact. Not that any of that mattered now.
Scully grabbed the wine bottles from the refrigerator and placed them on the counter. She could use them to store water for her trek down the mountain. One bottle was half empty and already open, so she chose it to start with. She poured the contents down the sink and frowned when she realized what was being disposed. Cow's blood, she thought, disgustedly. Unfortunately, there was no detergent and no pots she could use to boil water and sterilize the bottles.
"Great!" she hissed. "Just great." She sighed despairingly and said, "Okay, Mulder, anytime you want to come and rescue me, I'm ready."
As she stood at the sink trying to come up with a way she could ensure herself some safe drinking water for her trip, a distant sound from outside demanded her attention. She knew instantly what it was and what it meant. Excitedly, she ran out onto the porch and looked skyward. She realized that she didn't even have to bother to signal because the helicopter was headed straight in her direction. As it neared, she stepped off the porch and waved her arms in recognition of being rescued.
There didn't seem to be enough room for the helicopter to land safely, but the pilot was either highly experienced and confident or just insane enough to give it a try. Scully had to duck back inside the cabin as the chopper blades kicked up debris and threatened to clip the tops of nearby trees. After a couple of moments, the engine cut off and the whirling sound of rotating blades began to die down. Scully ventured back outside just as someone was getting off the copter. She had expected to see her partner headed towards her, but instead it turned out to be Sheriff Wilkes, carrying a backpack.
"Sheriff Wilkes, I'm glad to see you," Scully greeted him with relief.
"Well you're a sight for sore eyes yourself, Agent Scully. Are you all right? You're not injured anywhere, are you?"
"No. I'm fine. Is Mulder with you?"
"No, ma'am, but he sure did want to come. He got him a little concussion, -- nothing too serious, mind you -- but he's not exactly up to flying at the moment."
"How did you know where to find me?"
"You got your partner to thank for that. I'm still not sure how he did it. He made some phone calls and pulled a rabbit out of the hat. We would have been here sooner but we had problems getting hold of a pilot."
"I'm glad you showed up when you did. I was just about ready to attempt to find my own way down the mountain."
"The guy that kidnapped you, where's he now?"
Scully glanced ruefully towards the open door of the cabin. "He's inside. He died in his sleep."
"I'll be damned," the sheriff grunted. "Your partner pegged that one too."
"What?"
"Agent Mulder said that I'd likely find the kidnapper looking a little lifeless. He had me to bring along a couple body bags."
"A couple?"
"Yeah. He wants me to double-bag the guy before transporting him. He wants the body protected against sunlight. He also wants me to throw in some fresh garlic and duct tape this to the body." The sheriff reached into the backpack and pulled out an eight-inch, wooden cross. "You got any idea why your partner would insist on something like this?"
Scully nodded once and blew out a sigh. "I'm afraid so."
"You mind sharing with me?"
"Frankly, Sheriff, I don't think you really want to know."
Sheriff Wilkes chuckled lightly and shook his head. "Now you know, that's spooky. That's exactly what your partner told me. Sounds like you two have been together a little too long."
"Yeah, tell me about it."
Black Eagle Sheriff's Office 1:15 p.m.
Mulder had been waiting anxiously for news about Scully's rescue, and when word came over the radio that she had been found alive and well, he nearly cried with joy. After speaking to her briefly, he finally allowed himself to relax and take Deputy Carter's advice about lying down and getting some rest. He napped in one of the cells for nearly an hour until the deputy came to wake him as promised with news of Scully's return. Deputy Carter drove him the half of mile out to the helicopter landing field, arriving just as the blades of the copter were slowly coming to a halt. The sheriff stepped off first, then turned to help the female passenger off.
Though he was tempted to run, Mulder walked casually towards them. Scully met him half way, a heartwarming smile stretching across her face as she drew near. She fell easily into his opened embrace and gave as good a hug as she received. Mulder pulled away much too soon and looked her up and down.
"Are you sure you're all right?" he asked while simultaneously checking her neck for bite marks.
"Mulder, I'm fine. How did you know where to find me?"
"I had Frohike run a background check on an alias Knight gave me just before he departed with you. Turns out he owns a few acres of land up there. Did he try anything with you?"
"No. He was... he was a perfect gentleman." She looked back sadly at the helicopter as the body bag was being unloaded and transferred to a waiting ambulance. "When I woke up, I found him lying on the couch, dead. I'm thinking that maybe he suffered a brain aneurysm."
Mulder shook his head. "He's not dead."
"Mulder, I know dead when I see it. He has no heartbeat or pulse, there's no breathing, and he's ice cold."
"Okay, maybe he is dead but not how you think. Excuse me a sec." Mulder went over to talk to the sheriff for a moment and was given his backpack. He took a peek inside the bag, then exchanged a few more words with the sheriff before shaking his hand in gratitude and walking away. "They'll be keeping Knight on ice at the hospital morgue in Great Falls," he said upon returning to his partner. "I told the sheriff not to worry about the autopsy. That you and I will handle things from here on out."
"Mulder, I'd rather not be the one to perform the autopsy on him."
"You won't have to. I just wanted to make sure no one else would."
"You don't want an autopsy done?"
"Well, if he's indeed what I think he is, an autopsy would only piss him off."
"You're not still going on about the vampire thing, are you?"
"Scully, I saw him. I saw him make the change. The glowing eyes, the fangs. I saw him fly."
"You saw him fly?" Scully questioned skeptically.
"You don't remember, do you? I could tell he had you under some kind of trance. When I tried to get him to let you go, he picked me up by my neck and flung me like a rag doll into the fencing. Then he just held onto you and flew straight up."
"The sheriff told me that you got conked on the head," Scully stated, feeling as though that explained things.
"I'm not imagining things, Scully. That's not a dead body they've got there, it's a sleeping vampire. Look, you don't have to believe me. You'll see for yourself when he wakes up."
"Mulder, as much as he's been handled, if he was going to wake up, he would have done so by now, don't you think?"
"You taped the cross to his chest before you attempted to move him, right?"
"Making sure it didn't make contact with his skin, as per your instructions, yes."
"Well, that was a precaution. From some of the vampire lore I've read, religious symbols can act as a restraint to keep a vampire completely immobile. So even if he does wake up, he'd be paralyzed until the cross is removed. I talked to Captain Reese again and he said that they always had a tough time trying to get a call through to Knight during the day. I'm guessing that means he's a pretty heavy sleeper and probably won't be waking until right around dusk."
"Mulder..." Scully started to argue the insanity of his theory but knew it was a useless gesture. "Whatever. Right now, I'm hungry and I need to shower. So can we just...."
"Sure. This way." He gently took her arm and guided her towards a waiting patrol car and a deputy who was more than happy to drop them off at their motel.
"So, you don't remember him transporting you to the cabin?" Mulder asked as he relaxed in the back seat of the patrol car next to his partner.
Scully shook her head slightly. "No, I don't. I remember going out to the corral, looking for you, and the next thing I know, I'm waking up in bed with...."
"With what?"
"I uh... I'm not really sure. Some of it seems almost like a dream. I think he was holding me."
"Holding you?"
"I woke up and he was lying on the bed with me in his arms."
"Damn pervert is what he was," came the voice of disgust from the man in the driver's seat. "No telling what he might've done to you if he hadn't croaked first," Deputy Carter continued. "I know it's none of my business, ma'am but are you sure you wouldn't want to be examined by a doctor? Considering you were unconscious and all for a spell. You know what I mean?"
"Thank you for your concern, Deputy, but, I really don't think that's necessary."
"The deputy might have a point, Scully. If you can't remember what all went on, it might be a good idea to get yourself checked out. You could have been drugged or exposed to something. After all, the guy did have a blood fetish, and it might not have all been from cows."
Scully considered the words carefully, knowing that if their positions had been reversed, she would have insisted that Mulder seek medical attention. As the patrol car pulled up in front of the motel, Scully found herself agreeing with her partner. "You're right, Mulder. I think maybe I should get a quick physical, just in case. But I'd like to eat and get cleaned up first."
The agents climbed out of the patrol car and waved their thanks to the deputy. "He didn't sexually molest me, Mulder," Scully blurted out as she walked alongside him towards their rooms. "I'd know if he had."
Mulder simply nodded. Of course, she knew her body better than he. "So when you woke up, he was holding you?" he asked.
"Not me exactly. I believe that he thought he was holding Natalie Lambert one last time. I think they did have a suicide pact going. Only it was her idea and she goaded him into going along with it. He blamed himself for her death and he felt guilty because he survived. He was deeply in love with her. "
Mulder fished a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door to Scully's room. "How does the killing of cows fit in?" he asked as he allowed her to enter first.
Scully stepped into the room and headed straight for the bathroom. She reached into the shower and turned on the water so that it would have sufficient time to heat. She then turned her attention to Mulder who stood leaning against the dresser.
"Nick didn't remember killing the cows. He was suffering from blackouts. He said he became someone else."
"Someone named Nicholas de Brabant?"
"Yes. I think that's the name he used."
"That's the vampire, Scully. The one that took you."
"Nick said that this other personality killed the cows to draw attention to himself. He wanted some family member to find him."
Mulder pulled a photocopy picture from his pocket and showed it to her. "Lucien LaCroix. Don't know what relationship he is to Knight but they were roomies in Winnipeg after leaving Toronto."
Scully studied the picture and frowned, "I wouldn't want to bump into him on a dark night."
"Neither would I. Something tells me, he doesn't settle for cow's blood."
"Oh, so he's a vampire too, is that it?"
"Doesn't he look like one?"
"I'm going to go take my shower now. I know I must smell and look hideous."
"You smell pretty much like I do and you look like...." He was going to say that she looked like hell, but quickly reevaluated her appearance. Considering that a few hours ago, he wasn't sure he'd ever see her again, at least not alive, she was truly a beautiful sight to behold.
"I look like what?" she asked when he had failed to complete the statement.
"A million dollars in change."
"In change?"
"Yeah. A zillion bright, shiny coins. You have to admit, that'd be an awesome sight."
"You know what you look like?"
"What?"
"Like someone with a mild concussion who's been up all night worrying himself half to death."
"Do I look hungry too?"
She patted his stubble-covered cheek. "Go get rid of that and I'll meet you in half an hour in the cafe."
Benefis Healthcare Hospital Great Falls, Montana - 4:22 p.m.
Over a late lunch, Mulder and Scully traded information each had gathered on the mysterious Nick Knight. After their meal, they stopped by the sheriff's office to file paperwork, and later, went to the hospital so Scully could get her check up. As he waited for his partner, Mulder catnapped right outside the morgue, wanting to keep an eye on Knight. After taking a cursory exam and giving up some blood samples to be tested later, Scully went in search of her partner. She found him in the hallway directly across from the morgue, asleep in a chair with his arms folded loosely over the backpack he was holding and his head resting against the wall behind him. Scully walked up to him and with devilishly intent, ran her fingernails along Mulder's exposed neck. He jumped awake in a moment of panic, nearly falling off the chair.
"It's okay, it's okay!" Scully soothed him. "It's just me."
"That wasn't funny," Mulder huffed as he stood and collected his cool.
"Actually, it was," Scully grinned. "Why don't you go back to the motel and get some sleep?"
"No, I'm wide awake now," he said as he slipped his backpack over one shoulder. "How'd your exam go?"
"Fine. Nothing unusual to report. The results from the blood tests will be back later. Urine tests show no drugs in my system, so whatever he used to put me to sleep has apparently already worked its way out. And in case you were wondering, no bite marks were found."
Mulder nodded his head, obviously relieved to hear the news. "Good."
Scully glanced towards the closed doors of the morgue, and asked, "So now what?"
Mulder checked his watch before answering. "Still got a while before sunset, but I guess it wouldn't hurt to check and see if he's awake."
Scully started to make a comment but knowing it would go unheeded, decided to save her breath. She lead the way into the morgue, introduced herself to the attendant on duty and was given complete access to the remains of Mr. Nicholas Knight. Mulder slipped off his backpack then stood with his hand inside one of the pockets, prepared to pull out something in defense should the need arise. Scully tried to ignore his overly cautious behavior as she pulled open the drawer containing Knight.
The body was still cocooned within the two body bags. Scully unzipped the first bag to reveal the second bag and the strong odor of garlic.
"I'll hold on to that," said Mulder as he grabbed the wreath of garlic he'd had Sheriff Wilkes tuck into the bag.
"You know, Mulder, I've seen enough vampire movies to know that when a vampire kidnaps a woman, it's usually so she can become his next meal or his mate. Neither of those things happened to me. The man was lonely and he wanted someone to talk to. That was all we did. That was all he wanted."
"That was all Nick Knight wanted. Nicholas de Brabant, on the other hand, wanted something different, only Knight somehow kept him from resurfacing and carrying out his plans."
"Right," Scully sighed. She then unzipped the second bag and gazed in wonder at the dead man who still looked as though he was about to awaken at any moment.
"I don't mean to sound like some kind of morbid pervert," said Mulder, "but that is undoubtedly the best looking dead guy I've ever seen." He reached out and timidly lifted up a finger on the corpse's hand, then let go of it to see what would happen. It flopped easily back to its original position. "Still no sign of rigor mortis."
"Rigor mortis usually takes five to six hours to set in, but he's been refrigerated for a while, so it could take a bit longer." Inwardly, Scully thought that the man before was indeed looking a bit too good to be dead. Compelled by the need to satisfy her own doubts, she scrounged around for a stethoscope, then prepared to remove the wooden cross which had been duct taped with a single strip to the front of his shirt.
"Don't take it all the way off," Mulder warned her.
She gave her partner a dirty look but humored his wishes once again. She unbuttoned Nick's shirt and peeled back just enough to place the stethoscope over his heart. She listened intently for several seconds, then checked his eyes for any reaction to light. "Nothing," she announced, sounding rather disappointed. "Absolutely no sign of life, Mulder."
"Not as we know it, at any rate," said Mulder. "I wonder."
"What?"
"What do you say, we get an EEG done on him."
"You want to do an electroencephalogram on a dead man?"
"No, on a vampire. Look, there have been plenty of documented cases of people mispronounced dead because outwardly they're showing all the visual signs of death, while internally, their brains are still functioning. I think if you'd just take a look, you'll find that Knight's brain isn't quite as relaxed as the rest of him. Scully, this may be the only chance you'll have to examine him and see what makes him tick. He might not be so cooperative once the sun goes down."
Of course, Scully didn't believe in vampires or that Nick Knight was one, but for some reason, she didn't want to believe that he was dead and gone, and nothing could be done about it. There was something other than her partner's enthusiasm that made her cave in and agree to bringing in an encephalograph machine and applying electrodes to Nick's temples. When she turned on the machine, she was rather disappointed that the graph showed nothing happening.
"I don't know what I was thinking, listening to you, Mulder," said Scully as she stared at the straight line on the graph. "Maybe I should hook this thing up to you to see if you've got any actual brain activity going on."
"Ha ha," Mulder faked a laugh and stepped closer. "Maybe he needs some kind of outside stimulus. "Mr. Knight?" Mulder called out to him but got no response.
Scully picked up Nick's left hand, noticing the iciness of it along with a pliant softness that should not be still present after all this time. Remembering how he had held his arm in pain as they had talked earlier, Scully wondered about the wound he had hid from her. She unbuttoned the cuff of his shirt and peeled back the sleeve to reveal a swollen and bruised area beneath his forearm.
"What is it?" Mulder asked when he saw her examining the arm.
"He had complained about picking up a splinter. It looks infected," she noted as she prodded the afflicted area with her finger,
"Scully, look!"
She looked up, then to the EEG machine where her partner directed her attention. There was a sudden spike in the graph.
"Oh my god... he's alive!"
Copyright © 2019 · All Rights Reserved · Fran Glass