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Stroked: part 8

 
GEORGETOWN MEDICAL CENTER

After leaving Mulder Dr. Harriman went down the hallway to 
find Dr. Scully. It did not take long to spot her in front 
of the elevator. He knew that Mulder and Dr. Scully were 
good friends and he would need to approach her in such a 
way. " Excuse me Dr Scully. Can I have a word with you for a 
few minutes?"

Scully looked up at the doctor and nodded and followed him 
into a private office. He motioned for her to have a seat 
and then took a seat himself. " What happened in there Dr. 
Scully?" His  voice was calm and professional.

She took a few seconds to gather herself and to think about 
the answer she was about to give. Not everyone understood 
Mulder's ability to get inside of a killer's mind or to make 
leaps that nobody else could understand. She sat for a few 
minutes thinking then looked up at the doctor, "Mulder is 
complicated. He has a knack for getting into the killer's 
mind. He has a unique ability for guessing things that are 
not said out loud. He is sort of spooky like that during 
cases, especially serial murders. Especially cases involving 
children."

Dr Harriman sat back to listen. He knew that Mulder was 
different, he had heard stories of his patient's profiling 
abilities. He was really interested in his partner's 
perspective.

" He has been working a very difficult serial case involving 
small children. Small children were being kidnapped and 
tortured and killed. Mulder was asked to give the case a 
look and to write a profile. His experience in this area was 
appreciated by the VCS and his profile was nothing less than 
genius and it lead us to the man in the warehouse. We all 
thought that the man was the serial killer and that he had 
died in the warehouse."

" But he didn't die?" Dr. Harriman asked, confused. He 
thought that the man had died in the warehouse.

" Yes. Barter did die but the killings started again soon 
after his death. At first we thought there was a copy cat 
killer but the likeness and the clues were the same as in 
the original cases. The information was never released to 
the public. The killer is still alive."

" And Mulder knew this? That the killer is still alive?" Dr 
Harriman raised up into the seat and shook his head, " He 
has been too ill to be able to comprehend what has been 
going on in the news. He can barely tell you what time of 
day it is or even what the weather has been like. Are 
you sure?"

" Unfortunately, I am certain. Like I said, he has a sixth 
sense about these things and he is usually accurate." She 
paused a few seconds then continued," He is right. The 
killer is still killing. Even without a television or a 
newspaper he has figured it out somehow." She shook her head 
and stood, "Only Mulder can find this sick bastard and this 
worries me because he will jeopardize his health to 
accomplish it. He will push himself to a breaking point, 
whether it be physically or emotionally or both. He will not 
give up on profiling the killer again."

Dr Harriman just stared in disbelief at his patient's 
partner. He knew the fear that she must be feeling for her 
best friend. Being a doctor she knew that the added stress 
could be detrimental to Mulder's health. "Listen, let's give 
him some downtime. Maybe he doesn't know as much as you 
think he does. Maybe he is guessing to get a reaction out of 
you. He is a psychologist and he does know what buttons to 
push to get information."

Scully nodded and walked to the door. "Will you have Dr. 
Moore talk to him when he is alert enough? He is emotionally 
fragile right now and I do not want him to suffer anymore 
setbacks."

" Definitely. I am going to be closing up his leg wound soon 
but I'd rather not intubate him if I don't have to due to 
his recent bout with pneumonia. We'll see how he does in the 
next twenty- four hours."

She nodded in agreement and placed her hand on the knob to 
exit but turned back towards Mulder's physician. "When he 
awakens will you call me. I need to see our boss and fill 
him in on Mulder but I will be on my cell phone, my number 
is at the nurses' desk."

He stood and walked over to the door and placed a hand on 
Scully's shoulder, " Absolutely, I will leave orders with 
the nurse for you to be notified and that he can have 
visitors tomorrow. I am going to keep him sedated today and 
tonight and have Dr. Moore to see him first thing in the 
morning." He thought for a second and added," I've seen him 
in worse condition and he has pulled through with flying 
colors. He is Mulder."

" Yeah he is definitely Mulder." She smiled, turned and left 
to see Skinner.

Dr Harriman picked up the chart and headed back to see 
Mulder. It was going to be a long twenty four hours. He knew 
Mulder and he knew that if he wasn't fighting his sedation 
that soon he would be, because that was Mulder.

ICU/ MULDER'S CUBICLE

The familiar voice was speaking to him again and it was 
taunting him with words that could not be forgotten, " Fox 
you are a cripple, you are pathetic. How will you help the 
little children now? You are worthless and they will 
continue to die." And then he heard the small children 
crying out for help. And this time he could hear his 
sister's voice, it was Samantha and she was starting to cry. 
She cried out for her brother to save the children from the 
killer. The little children would die if he did not save 
them from the bad man. He knew that Sam would have died a 
terrible death if it had not been for the 'Walk Ins'. He 
could not save her and now he could not save the children 
from the serial killer. He started to cry because he could 
not move. He could not reach out and help the small voices. 
They would have to die. The man's voice was getting louder 
and the small voices became weaker and soon they were gone. 
The only voice that remained was the killer and he was 
laughing. " I am the winner and you, Fox Mulder, special 
profiler for the Federal Bureau of investigation are a loser 
and a cripple. He began to cry louder but not for himself 
but for the little children who had to die.

A voice above him was starting to call his name and a 
soothing hand was on his forehead. It had to be Scully, she 
was his best friend and she would save him from the bad 
dream. Within a few seconds he was able to drag open his 
heavy eyelids and try to focus on the person above him. When 
he was able to focus he recognized his nurse and she was 
stroking his face with a cool wash cloth. She was cooing 
soothing words and trying to give him comfort.

Rachel noticed that her troubled patient was awake now. She 
had been concerned when he was crying in his sleep and that 
he seemed unable to come out of the drugged haze. His eyes 
were glassy and he seemed a bit disoriented. They had given 
him a large dose of Thorazine when he was having difficulty. 
Drool still continued to dribble down his chin, which was 
probably a combination of the drugs and the stroke. She 
could tell that he was having trouble focusing his eyes and 
she felt that she needed to give him some assurance that she 
was there with him, "Hey Mulder." She whispered, trying not 
to startle him with loud words. He had nearly slept for 
twelve hours but had been very restless for the past two 
hours. He had been reaching out with his good arm and 
grabbing at thin air. She had called Dr. Harriman and was 
given an order to hold the Thorazine due to a possible 
reaction. He wanted to get a better assessment of Mulder so 
he would allow his patient to come up from the drugged haze.

She knew that he was having some very bad dreams and that he 
had had some bad ones before. She knew that he did not want 
to be alone. He had told her that they were really bad 
dreams. As she continued to soothe her patient she talked 
quietly " Hang in there Mulder. I'm not going to leave you, 
I'm right here."

He felt weird, the drugs still were strong and they had a 
strong grip on him. He felt them pulling him back down into 
the world of nightmares but that place was too dark and 
scary for the any adult, even an FBI profiler like 
himself. He moaned softly, hoping to get the attention of 
his nurse. He wanted to be turned and elevated. He was 
uncomfortable and he could feel the uncomfortable restraints 
around his wrists. His voice seemed to be lost or at least 
on vacation. The nurse responded to his sounds by calling 
out for assistance. He was understood and he was relieved, 
his discomfort no longer could be hidden. He squirmed 
underneath the blanket, mostly caused by his nervousness and 
his anger at his best friend. Soon the room was 
filled with voices and he allowed them to turn and 
reposition him in the bed. They were taking great care with 
his tubes and IV's, careful not to pull anything out. 
Suddenly he was hit with a wave of nausea from the movement. 
The vomiting started soon after and he felt himself being 
rolled over to his side and a cold plastic dish being shoved 
underneath his chin. As he continued to retch the tube 
feeding that had been infusing in through his G tube in his 
stomach came out. The nasogastric tube that still remained 
in his right nostril was turned on and the tube feeding was 
turned off.

He could hear the page for his physician being called out 
over the hospital intercom but he could not respond due to 
his lethargy from the drugs. The nurse began yelling 
something about his airway and again he was being rolled 
over and his head was being manipulated back. Someone was 
placing something over his face and the smell of the plastic 
and forced air made him want to retch some more. This was 
getting a little much and now a familiar voice was standing 
over him saying something but due to the drugs he could not 
make out who it was or what they were saying.

Within seconds he could feel someone opening his mouth and 
it felt familiar. 'What the Hell?', he asked himself as he 
felt a firm hand adjusting his jaw. Then realization hit, 
they were going to place the dreaded tube back down his 
throat again and he could do no more than to allow them to 
proceed with their plan. He was too weak to fight and the 
drugs still gripped his mind and his voice.

The soothing voice was back and she was stroking his face 
and was giving comforting words, "It's okay Mulder, we need 
to get  you breathing a little better. Just try to relax, I 
know it's hard."

Mulder focused on the kind and gentle voice but he was also 
feeling the tube invade his throat as someone held his mouth 
open. He felt the tube as it traveled down his throat and 
his thoughts were to fight the person inflicting the pain 
but he was too weak. He had to allow the torment to 
continue. A few minutes later he felt the taping of the tube 
around his face and the familiar sound of a ventilator and 
the forced breaths into his lungs. He also felt a burning in 
his veins, the familiar effect that intravenous Phenergan 
gives when injected too fast and undiluted. The nausea had 
started to improve and he could feel himself relax with the 
drugs that were being fed into his IV.

The torture continued and a few minutes later his world was 
filled with the feel of tape as it attached itself to his 
sensitive skin and the sound of the ventilator as it gave 
him breathes. He felt the pull of strong drugs as they made 
their way into his system. He could feel the restraints 
being secured and tested to make sure he could not remove 
their hard work, apologizing all the time as they were 
inflicting the intrusions to his body. He decided to allow 
the drugs to take over and sleep; he was too tired to do 
anything else. The nausea was improving, the medicine was 
working and within minutes he was sleeping the drugged sleep 
and moving back towards his den of nightmares.

Eight Hours Later

The next time he opened his eyes he saw his best friend's 
head lying beside his restrained wrist. She was a welcomed 
site but the feel of the tube was not and he wanted to cough 
it up but the drugs prevented the gag reflex. He was glad 
that she was back and that she was not mad at him for his 
bad behavior. Well, their bad behavior.

She could feel movement beside her and she lifted her head 
and saw his watery hazel eyes, " Hey are you okay Mulder?" 
She asked as she raised her head slowly from the lying 
position, her neck met with a dull ache from staying too 
long in the same position.

He lifted his right hand to wave at her and was met with the 
resistance of the straps around his wrists. She reached over 
and untied the straps then turned to get a wet washcloth. 
She gently washed his face and cleaned the crust from his 
eyes. He just closed his eyes and allowed the soft touch to 
help relax his tense body.

As her hand made it's way across his tired face she looked 
down at her friend. His face looked sad and strained. She 
knew that the last twenty-four hours had been rough but it 
was hard to see him suffer. She felt the need to apologize 
and to make him feel better. She looked at him, their eyes 
met and a tender smile crossed her face, "Sorry, I was 
just trying to protect you Mulder." She could manage no more 
at the risk of crying.

His hand searched for hers and when he found it he gave it a 
gentle squeeze. He was her friend and she did not have to 
explain. He knew Scully and he knew that she was just trying 
to protect him from the pain. That was her nature and he 
accepted that about his friend.

She continued to give him gentle menstruation's and he was 
almost back to sleep when Dr. Harriman entered the cubicle. 
"Good morning Dr. Scully. How is Mulder doing this morning?"

Mulder's flew open and he reached up to point to the tube 
with his free hand. His eyes pleading for his doctor to 
remove the hard object from his throat.

" So I see that my favorite patient is fighting his drugs 
again. Well, Mulder how would you like to get rid of that 
tube and get your leg closed? It is looking great and I can 
get a surgical suite this morning."

Mulder looked up at Scully and she nodded her head. He then 
looked at his doctor and nodded to him that he was ready.

"Great. If it's okay with you Mulder I would like Dr. Scully 
to assist on the case. From what I hear she is great with a 
needle and thread, although her patients don't get to brag 
about it."

Mulder nodded and closed his eyes. He was tired and now he 
was going back to surgery. He just wanted to get out of this 
place.

"I will send the nurse back in to help kick your sedation 
back into full gear. We'll be ready in about thirty minutes. 
Dr Scully I will see you in the OR." He patted his patient 
on the foot and left.

Scully wanted to stay with Mulder until the sedation was 
assisting him to sleep. Within a few minutes the nurse 
entered with a syringe and placed the medicine into the IV 
port. After injecting the med she turned down the lights and 
quieted the monitors so that Mulder could relax. It did not 
take long before Mulder was in a deep sleep. Scully picked 
up her coat and left the room quietly.

Mulder was aroused from his drugged sleep by the movement to 
the gurney. Then he could feel the movement as the stretcher 
moved down the hallway. Unfamiliar voices filled the air as 
he moved through the hallways. He could feel the air being 
forced into his lungs by the ambu bag attached to his ET 
tubing. As they paused at the elevator  he heard the 
familiar voice was from his nightmares. It was close and he 
tried to open his eyes to see who was speaking but the drugs 
blurred his vision and his eyelids were to heavy to keep open. 
Then the elevator opened and they wheeled him inside and the 
voice stopped. It was real and not a dream, he knew that 
the voice was in the hospital, that it was real. Before he 
could try to make sense of the occurrence sleep once again 
set into his drugged body.

The next thing he remembered was the sound of Scully's voice 
standing nearby and when he opened his eyes he saw masked 
faces. Scully was standing beside him he could recognize 
those blue eyes anywhere. " Hey sleepy head, you almost 
missed the entire thing. Dr. Harriman is almost done."

Dr Harriman looked over the blue drape and his eyes 
brightened, " Just putting a dressing on and then we will 
send you to a step down unit after we take out you vent 
tube. It may take a little while but we should have you in a 
comfortable bed soon. Try to go back to sleep for a little 
while longer." He looked up at the anesthesiologist and 
nodded. A syringe was placed into his IV port and soon he 
was sleeping again.

Mulder was taken to the recovery room and extubated. He was 
awakened for a few minutes but he quickly drifted back off 
to sleep. They transferred him to the step down unit with 
minimal monitors and tubes. He still had his nasogastric 
tubing and his G-tube for the tube feedings and his IV's. He 
still had a heart monitor on for precautionary measures. The 
leg brace was placed back on his left leg and his leg was 
heavily bandaged underneath. Soon he would be moving to 
rehab.

The familiar smells of the hospital entered into his 
nostrils and he opened his eyes. He quickly knew that he was 
out of the ICU. This was a very positive move and he was 
very grateful for the change in scenery. He had been there 
too long without windows or the feeling of freedom. He 
looked around and the room was empty. He actually enjoyed 
the feeling of being alone. He knew that Dr. Moore would 
want to talk to him after his little episode with Scully. He 
would want to probe his tormented mind for answers to his 
questions. He was still under the influence of the 
anesthesia and it quickly pulled him back into a quiet 
sleep.

He was dreaming or was he dreaming? The sound of the voice 
was talking again but it sounded so real, and it sounded as 
if he were singing. " Fox is a cripple. Fox is a cripple. 
Fox, what are you going for the children now? You want the 
answer don't you Fox? Well,a honest answer to the question is 
that Fox can not do anything because he is a cripple now. 
Poor Fox, you can't even talk. How will the officers 
understand the delusions of the Fox? Poor profiler. Poor 
crippled profiler. You can not stop me Fox. I am now 
unstoppable. His laughter was loud. Why was he laughing so 
loud? He would not let the killer laugh at him. He was going 
to stop the killer. It was his job. He would stop the 
killer, he would!

The hand was soothing him again. When he opened his eyes 
Scully was standing with Dr Moore. Her face was full of 
concern and her voice seemed nervous. "Mulder that's it open 
your eyes. You're scaring me Mulder." Her voice was soft but 
desperate.

He pushed his eyes open and looked at his partner and almost 
closed them shut when Dr. Moore leaned forward and spoke," Hey 
Mulder, you were having a pretty bad dream. Are you 
okay?" Dr Moore's voice was more concerned than 
professional.

Mulder nodded. He quickly realized that he no longer had 
restraints, probably Scully had put a stop to that little 
order. His throat was so dry and he had not had anything to 
drink in ages so he thought now would be a good time to get 
a sip of water, "Wader pease."

His voice was weak and painful from the tube and anesthesia. 
Unfortunately he was met with two shaking heads. Now he felt 
miserable, all he wanted was a drink. His mood was already 
grumpy from the nightmare and now he could not even have a 
simple thing, such as a small sip of water. The dream 
was just the tip of the iceburg, now his mood was 
full-fledged bad, " Wader Scuwy. I nee a dink, pease!"

She reached over and wet a sponge and held it up to his 
lips." Mulder your physician has a barium swallow scheduled 
for tomorrow morning.It  If you pass the test then we can start 
you on clear liquids."

Mulder reached up and pushed the sponge away then looked 
over and glared at Dr. Moore, " Go way, I no nee a shink. Go 
way!" he felt angry at his imprisonment and just wanted to 
go home.

Scully placed the sponge down on the bedside table and 
walked over to the opposite side of the bed and leaned down 
close, Mulder you need to talk to Dr. Moore, your dreams are 
getting worse. You need to talk."

Mulder shook his head vigorously, " I na tawkin. I tire of 
tawkin. I wanna be weft awone! And I wan a dink of wader!" 
his voice was loud and demanding. He felt agitated from all 
the drugs and the presence of Dr. Moore. He knew that he 
needed to stay calm but he was agitated and he could stop 
himself from feeling so angry at the situation.

Dr Moore approached the bed, he had been standing back 
letting Mulder verbalize his anger but knew that he was 
becoming more and more agitated, a combination of emotions 
and drugs effecting his patient. " Mulder I just want to 
talk to you for a few minutes and I promise I will leave you 
alone."

Mulder watched as Scully gathered her belongings and moved 
quietly out of the room into the hallway closing the door 
behind her as she left. Now he felt all alone and abandoned 
by his friend. He was suppose to talk about his anger but 
all he wanted to do was scream or hit something. All he 
wanted was something to wet his dry mouth, not a sponge but 
a cool drink of water.

Dr Moore looked won at his very angry patient and decided it 
was time to get to the point, " Mulder, it's time to express 
some of that anger before you make yourself sicker. What is 
going to be the easy way or the hard way?"

Mulder turned his and ignored the physician and closed his 
eyes. He was not in a mood to put up with this man's 
demanding behavior.

" Your antidepressant has a good level according to your lab 
work this morning." He hesitated for a few seconds then 
started again, "You are very angry. Aren't you Mulder? You 
are sick and now you consider yourself a cripple. It is hard 
to catch a criminal when one is a cripple and unable to do 
the things that you once did with a certain ease."

Mulder only heard the word cripple and the anger exploded. " 
You na no me. I am na a crippol. I am na a crippo! I am na a 
crippol!" he was screaming as loud as his weak voice would 
allow, his right hand was now hitting the siderails of the 
bed and he was repeating over and over the same words, " I 
am na a crippol!"

Dr Moore grabbed his patient's hand to keep him from hurting 
himself. " I'm sorry Mulder. I didn't mean it like that, I 
promise."

All Mulder could hear was the word cripple. Why did Dr. 
Moore call me a cripple? He tears started to flow 
uncontrollably and sobs filled the room. Why did he call me 
a cripple? The killer thinks I am a cripple too and so does 
Scully. He felt so miserable. All I want to do is sleep and 
they won't allow me to sleep. They think you are depressed 
if you sleep too much. I need to go back into the dream and 
talk to the killer. He might give me some more insight to 
why he is killing the children. His tears still flowed and 
he felt so childish but his clinical mind knew that the 
stroke had effected him and his ability to control these 
waves of overwhelming feelings of sadness and anxiety were 
actually normal.

"Mulder I am going to hold your sleeping meds tonight. I 
want you awake for a little while. You really need to talk." 
He pulled up a chair to the bedside but kept a gentle hold 
on Mulder's wrist. He then lowered the bedrail and leaned 
over to talk to his patient. He reached over and grabbed a 
towel and gently wiped off Mulder's wet face. "Better 
Mulder?" he asked noting that he had finally calmed down.

Mulder nodded and turned over in the bed to face his 
therapist. Actually this was the first time that he had 
looked at his Dr. Moore since he first came into his room. " 
Tan oo ast the nuss if I ca hav a dink of wader?"

He shook his head and spoke softly, "Mulder, they do not 
want you to have anything to drink until after this test 
tomorrow. I knew that you are thirsty but if you take a sip 
and it goes down the wrong way then you could develop 
aspiration pneumonia. Nobody is trying to punish you Mulder. 
We are just trying to protect you from another medical 
setback." He reached into the drawer and pulled out a pink 
soft sponge and dipped it into a glass of cool water Scully 
had brought to the room earlier. " You want to try the 
sponge?"

Mulder nodded like an eager little boy and took the wet 
sponge into his mouth. At first he choked on the moisture 
but quickly recovered. He held the sponge in his mouth for a 
few seconds and then let it go, Dr. Moore removed it and 
again placed it into the cool water. Again Mulder took it 
greedily and closed his eyes to the feeling of moisture in 
his mouth. After a few more seconds he let it go and Dr. 
Moore tossed the used sponge into the trash can.

"Tank oo." He felt better after crying and he wanted to let 
his doctor know that he was feeling better but he was now 
hurting. The pain in his leg was letting itself be known. A 
grimace crossed his face when he tried to move the brace 
into a comfortable position."

Dr. Moore noted the facial grimace and became concerned for 
his patient. " Mulder are you okay?"

The feeling in his leg was beginning to come back and the 
pain was becoming very evident. He hated to show anymore 
weakness to his therapist but he knew that he did not have a 
choice, " Yeah, it na too ba."

Dr Moore reached over and hit the nurse's call light and 
asked the voice to bring his patient something for pain."

Mulder looked at the therapist with a look of trepidation, 
"Yoo sa no mor dugs. Yoo are confuzin me."

Dr Moore shook his head and grinned, "I meant no sleeping 
meds Mulder. I would not expect any of my patients to 
suffer. You just had sugery a few hours ago Mulder. I agree 
with your partner Dr. Scully, the main focus here is your 
mental and physical well being. You've been through a lot 
Mulder and I plan on helping you as much as much as you will 
allow."

Mulder nodded in understanding but he knew that it was going 
to be difficult to confide in the therapist. He had learned 
long ago not to trust anyone. When the nurse entered a few 
minutes later he grimaced at the sight of the syringe. It 
was probably a combination of the antidepressant and pain 
medication.

Dr Moore stood and moved away from the bed, pushing the 
chair out of the nurse's way. As the nurse approached Mulder 
at first thought she was going to insert the syringe 
intravenously. She surprised him by waving him to pull 
himself over a little bit more as she pulled down his 
blanket and sheet and raised his gown.

Mulder did not try to assist instead he pointed towards the 
IV. He continued to stare at he syringe that she held in her 
right hand.

The nurse looked past the boyish look on her patient's face. 
" Mr. Mulder I need to give your medications 
intramuscularly. Dr Harriman wants to get you off your 
intravenous fluids. I promise it will only sting for a 
minute. The plan is to get you into rehab next week."

Mulder shook his head, "It na hur tha ba. I fi."

The nurse smiled down at her patient and shook her head. 
" You sure are a stubborn young man. Now roll over and get 
some medicine for the pain or it will get worse and it will 
take more medicine to get the pain relieved. Now roll over 
before I call for assistance."

Mulder could hear the serious tone in her voice and did not 
want to get her on her bad side. He reached over with his 
good hand and pulled himself towards the side rails. Within 
seconds the gown was lifted and he felt the piercing needle 
enter his hip. He almost jerked but he maintained composure 
and allowed the nurse to complete the task.

The nurse assisted Mulder in getting comfortable and left 
him with Dr. Moore. Dr Moore wanted to get a few more 
minutes in with his patient before the drugs kicked in 
again." Mulder you should start to feel better in a few 
minutes. Do you feel like a small conversation?"

Mulder nodded but his heart was not into talking. He wanted 
the pain medicine to take him back into the dream. He needed 
to hear the voice again. The voice that he had heard before 
he entered the elevator, was it real or was it just a vivid 
dream?

Dr Moore hesitated for a few seconds and then he sat back 
down facing his patient. " Can you tell me about your dreams 
Mulder?"

Mulder looked up and shook his head," Na yet."

He nodded in understanding that this was going to be a 
difficult area for his patient. Mulder had a history of bad 
nightmares, especially when he was working a bad case. He 
had read other reports on Mulder and he would not press the 
issue at this time. " When you get ready to talk Mulder I 
will listen." He stood to get ready to leave for a while 
when he felt a hand touch his arm.

Mulder looked at his therapist and spoke in a low and sad 
voice, "Da killa is dea. Righ? I kill em, he is dea."

" I don't know Mulder. I wish I could give you the answer 
but I just don't know the answer. You've been through a lot. 
You witnessed a horrific event and then you were shot. You 
really haven't had time to deal with everything." He paused 
and reached over and touched Mulder's shoulder, "That is why 
it is important for you to talk to someone. Maybe there is a 
way to figure these things out and try to give it some kind of 
meaning."

Mulder closed his eyes and nodded. He was feeling the 
effects of the pain medicine and sleep again was pulling him 
under. He wanted to rest. He wanted to return to the 
nightmare. The killer was there and he needed to profile him 
and see why he was doing the things he was doing.

Dr Moore left the room when Mulder had gone back to sleep. 
Hopefully he would trust him enough to help get him through 
the bad dreams.

Continued in chapter nine.


Comming soon

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