NEW: Big Blue Blues
Date: Fri, 02 Jul 1999

Title: Big Blue Blues
Author: Vickie Moseley
Summary: Mulder wished for a peg leg on the rock, but what if it
came true?
Posted July 2, 1999
Spoilers: A big one for 'Quagmire', little one for 'One Breath'
Category: Post-ep, A, UST-MSR implied, MT
Rating: PG-13 for naughty words but much milder than the South
Park Movie
Archive: yes
Disclaimer: I don't own them, but I do worship them from a far,
does that count? Well, how about if I don't make any money off
this or any other of my endeavors involving these characters? OK,
I won't infringe on any copyright of 10-13 Productions or FOX or
20th (times runnin' out, guys) Century FOX Productions, will that
do? Hope so. Oh, and this story is in no way connected to 'Blues
Clues', even though the title might suggest it does :)
Authors notes: Would you believe I found this, whole and
complete, tucked away on my harddrive? It had been mis-filed
<G> I thought it was fun at the time, so I send it along to all of
you.
Dedicated to the Mulder Torture Anonymous site and list and it's
Mistress of Ceremonies, Shirley Smiley. Happy SECOND
Birthday, a little bit late :)

Big Blue Blues
by Vickie Moseley
vickiemoseley1978@yahoo.com

Mulder had been chasing the 'lake monster' for days. Now, all of a
sudden, the monster was chasing him. Visions of Professor
Faraday's torn and mangled flesh made a colorful backdrop for his
imagination as he ran through the dark, dank shoreline.

He ran as fast as he could. Tripping a couple of times by the tree
roots which stuck out of the swampy soil of Strikers Cove, he
righted himself and kept going. Finally, the snap of his holster
resounded in his ears and through his fingers and he was able to pull
his gun out and begin to aim.

He never saw the log lying directly in his path. In seconds, he went
from upright and running to landing flat on his ass, with the wind
knocked out of him. The only thing he could do was hear. Hear
the lake monster crushing the underbrush, rushing toward him.
Hear the jaws open and then close so near, so very, very near . . .

Mulder reacted purely on instinct. He held the gun out at the
length of his arm and pulled the trigger with smooth, steady
strokes. He puffed breath through pursed lips for each of the
rounds that left the chamber. When the clip was spent, he realized
his heart was waiting to start beating again.

It didn't take long for Scully to find him. He could see her
flashlight dancing wildly as she jumped and skipped through the
undergrowth, looking for all the world like a graceful will of the
wisp as she ran toward him. She slid to a stop and he was still
holding the gun forward, but his arm was starting to tire and it was
dropping toward his lap.

"Oh God, Mulder, are you all right?" she demanded breathlessly.

"I'm fine," he said, drawing in as much air as his lungs could hold.
"Fine, Scully." But his eyes closed, betraying him. After a
moment, he opened his eyes and licked his lips. He reached his
hand out and she took it, ready to pull him up to his feet. He didn't
get very far.

"Shit!" he shouted and dropped to the ground again. "Shit! My
foot's caught."

Scully shone the light down to his legs and her eyes grew to saucer
size. "Oh my God," she whispered and immediately dropped to her
knees beside him. "Oh, God, Mulder lie back, lie back right now!"
she ordered, pushing him back against the log. She was ripping the
still damp jacket off her shoulders and attempting to use it to cover
his leg. Before she managed, he grabbed her flashlight and took a
look for himself.

His leg, or more precisely his ankle, was firmly entrapped in the
jaws of a very large, and very dead, alligator.

"Shit," he hissed and dropped his head back. Suddenly, as if it had
been waiting for his notice, the pain hit. He gasped loudly. "Scully,
get that fucking thing off me," he howled, and pulled on his leg.

Scully grabbed his hands. "No! No, Mulder. Just let it be. We
have to wait, we have to get help." She had already assessed the
problem. The alligator had him literally in a death grip. It was
going to take more strength than either of them had at that moment
to pry the jaws open. Only then could she make a determination of
the injury.

Now that Mulder knew what was happening, he couldn't take his
eyes off his leg in the alligator's mouth. "Scully, it hurts," he told
her, keeping his voice as calm as he could.

Scully was having a hard time keeping herself together. "I know it
does, Mulder, but I can't get those jaws apart by myself and I think
we'd do more damage trying to pull your ankle out. Just hold still,
I hear the sheriff's men right behind me."

Mulder looked down at his leg again, this time feeling the bile rise
up in this throat. "Scully, get my leg out," he says in a shaky,
panicked voice.

It didn't take her medical degree to figure out that her partner was
in serious trouble. He was breathing in short, staccato gasps, she
was sure the water trickling down his face was not from their recent
swim in the lake, but was yet another symptom of shock. She
wished she had better lighting, but she decided to take the safe road
and treat for shock as they waited. Just to be on the safest side, she
let out a bellow for the sheriff and his men.

"Over here! Officer Down!" she screamed at the top of her lungs.
In a small part of her brain, she smiled in amusement at the pained
look her shouting brought to her partner. She could scream with
the best of them when necessary. But the rest of her mind was
occupied with directing her actions.

She pulled on his waist, twisting him just enough to lie him down
on the soft, moss covered ground. It was damp everywhere as the
fog-like dew hung all around them, but that couldn't be helped.
Mulder moaned as she jostled his leg in the process. She would
have loved to elevate the leg, but at that moment, it meant elevating
the alligator, too, and she knew she didn't have the strength to lift
the monster.

"Big Blue looks more green and brown to me," she teased lightly,
as she helped Mulder adjust to a somewhat comfortable position.

"Let's not talk about 'what big teeth' his has right now, OK,
Scully," Mulder gasped painfully. "Damn it, where are those
guys?" he pleaded.

A crashing sound through the underbrush brought their answer.
"What happened?" demanded the first deputy on the scene. Scully
remembered him vaguely from the past two days and realized the
sheriff was probably staying behind waiting on the ambulance for
Dr. Faraday.

"Agent Mulder found Big Blue. It's an alligator," Scully told him.
She shone the light down on Mulder's leg and the alligator's
mouth. "I can't get the jaws opened. A couple of your men ought
to do the trick. And we need a stretcher and another ambulance,
immediately. He's already losing quite a bit of blood."

By the time she finished speaking, several men had joined them in
the small copse of trees. "OK, Denny, you get on the horn, call for
another ambulance. Tim and Larry, run back and get a couple of
crow bars outta my truck. And blankets. They're behind the seat.
If y'all have any more blankets, tell Larry and he'll get 'em. Now,
get a move on!" directed the first deputy, who Scully remember
was named J. D.

Scully watched the men leave, then looked down at her partner. He
was started to shiver in earnest. There were still two men left,
besides J. D. "Guys, I need your coats," she told them and they
quickly complied. Speaking then to her partner, Scully knelt down
beside him and covered him in the three jackets. "They're bringing
blankets, Mulder. And the ambulance will be here soon."

"My hearing's fine, Scully," Mulder said through clenched teeth. "I
want this son of a bitch off my leg," he hissed.

"We can't pull on it. We could cause permanent damage to the leg
and the bone," Scully told him in a calm voice. Her voice was the
only thing at that moment that was calm. Internally, she was
screaming to the high heavens for the men to hurry up.

Her prayers were answered and as soon as the men returned, the
real work began. A crow bar was place at the alligator's jaw joint,
on each side. The men were all too aware that a slip would mean
more damage to Mulder's leg, and so they worked with great
caution. But that meant taking time, and from the sweat pouring
down her partner's face, she wasn't sure how much more time they
had.

"On the count of three," J. D. said, bracing his feet and setting his
shoulders, then looking across at Tim who was similarly ready.

"One . . . Two . . . Three!" Both men heaved hard against the crow
bars and there was a sickening crack as the jaws separated.
Immediately after, there was an equally sickening scream as feeling
poured into the area around Mulder's ankle.

Scully would be eternally grateful to which ever man had the
forethought to bring the medical kit. She knelt down and started
wrapping the wound in gauze bandage. "Hang on, Mulder, I think
I hear the second ambulance," she told him. His eyes were closed
tightly and for a moment, she almost hoped he'd passed out.

"It's bad . . . it's really bad, Scully," he whispered, dashing her
hopes.

"I know it hurts, Mulder. Just try to relax, they're bringing the
stretcher," she murmured to him, holding his hand tightly in hers.

"No, Scully . . . I can't . . . feel my foot," he gasped out and before
she could respond in any way, the paramedics were on the scene
and working to get her partner to the hospital.

"I'll give you a ride, Agent Scully," J. D. offered and together they
hurried through the underbrush back to where the vehicles were
parked. J. D.'s truck was a four wheel drive SUV with a rack of
lights on the top. He pulled out on the highway and turned on the
lights and siren, then kept pace with the ambulance all the way to
the hospital.

Scully was out of the truck before J. D. had pulled to a full stop.
"How's he doing?" she shouted to the EMTs as she ran pace with
the gurney. Mulder's eyes were shut, not clenched and an oxygen
mask was covering most of his face, so she really couldn't see
much.

"He lost consciousness about half way here. We called ahead, they
have an OR standing by," the EMT assured her. "The admissions
office is to the right. You'll need to stop by there and then they'll
show you the waiting room for the ER."

And he was gone through the double metal doors into the inner
sanctum of the emergency room.

It was several minutes later before she was able to find her way to
the ER waiting room. Then it was another hour before anyone
came out to talk with her.

"Agent . . . uh, Scully?" A doctor in green scrubs was holding
Mulder's wallet and his emergency card while scanning the faces in
the waiting.

"I'm Agent Scully."

"Oh, good. Your partner has been asking for you. We're getting
him ready for surgery, but I promised him you'd be able to see him
for a minute. Would you follow me?"

The doctor opened the door and held it for Scully. "I'm Greg
Thompson, I'm head of orthopedic surgery. I'll be doing the
operation on your partner. He told me you're a doctor, too?"

"Yes, but my spaciality is pathology. I'm a forensic pathologist for
the FBI."

"Your partner tells me that you end up working on him quite a bit,"
Thompson said, flashing her a smile.

Scully nodded, a rueful smile of her own. "He keeps my ER
certification current," she said with a nod. "How's he doing?"

"As you might imagine, he's in a lot of pain. The bone was
crushed, but I'm hoping the nerve damage was kept to a minimum.
I've called in an arterial specialist to assist me. She should be in
with your partner by now. Fortunately, I don't think there was
muscle torn out, just torn up. Two alligator attacks in one night
has this place hopping, let me tell you."

"Well, at least you won't be seeing any more. Mulder killed it,"
Scully assured him.

"Good, I'm tired of listening to the horror stories at the grocery
store," the doctor said with only mild sarcasm. "He's in here."

Scully entered the curtained area drawing in a deep breath. Forcing
a smile on her face, she found her partner's eyes.

"Hey, you've started a harem back here, Mulder," she said, taking
his hand. An IV had been inserted just above the wrist and she
made a point of not jostling it.

Mulder saw her and tried to smile, then glanced around at the
nurses surrounding his gurney. "They don't seem to be falling
under my charms, Scully. None of them will take me back to their
place tonight." His jaw was set against an intense pain and the lines
around his eyes were deep grooves. His words were light, but his
face and posture tore at her heart.

"Well, I'd take you home in a minute. You know that," she said,
rubbing gently on the palm of his hand. "Did they tell you what's
happening?"

"They're going to try to reconstruct the bone. There were some
severed . . . severed arteries," he stumbled over the sentence as his
face contorted with pain. "They need to reat-t-t-tach some . . ."

"Shhh," Scully whispered. "Then they gave you the low down."
She wanted to say more, wanted to reassure him that everything
was going to be fine, but she couldn't. It was something she
refused to do, lie to him. From where she was standing, his odds of
retaining the foot were far from even. Far enough from good.

"Still hurts," he said through clenched teeth. "That's a good sign,
right?" he tried for a weak smile.

"It means there's feeling. Yes, that's a good sign. Mulder, we got
you here in time. They look like a little hospital, but they're the
regional trauma center. They're equipped for these kinds of
emergencies. If they weren't, I'd have you choppered out of here."

He smiled briefly. "My partner, the warrior princess of the FBI," he
said and then slammed his eyes shut against the next spasm of pain.
"Can they hurry up the knock out juice, Scully? I'm ready to go
nighty-night," Mulder pleaded. He was growing paler by the
minute and Scully's hand ached from his strangle hold on it.

She looked up at the doctor, who nodded in agreement. "Let's get
this show on the road." Mulder pried open his eyes so he could
watch the nurse deftly inject a syringe into one of the joints. He
closed his eyes again and waited for the medication to start
working. He blinked, and Scully knew it was beginning to take
effect.

"Scully," he slurred as the muscles in his face started to relax.

"I'll be right here when you wake up," she assured him. It made
him feel warm and even after he no longer felt her hand, he still felt
her presence. It made him feel safe.

>From his place on the gurney, Mulder could still hear everything
around him. He could feel the gurney begin to move down the hall,
felt the nurse untangle the IV line so that it didn't get caught near
the wheels or underfoot. He opened his eyes briefly when the
gurney hit a set of double doors and could see they were entering
an operating theater.

theater, he thought with some amusement. It this was a theater, he
really should have taken that left turn at the acting department. He
certainly seemed to 'perform' in these places often enough.

"Mr. Mulder, we're moving you over to the table, now. Just relax,
you don't have to do anything. We'll do all the work." It was a
nice voice, a calm voice. The kind of voice a person wouldn't mind
having saw on their leg, if necessary. Mulder felt his face form a
tiny smile as he was lifted into the air and then placed gently on a
firm and slightly cold surface.

There was more murmuring going on above him, but Mulder was
having a harder time making out the meanings of the sounds. He
just let his body drift. Away from the pain in his leg. Away from
the cold of the table. Away from Striker's Cove and a lake
monster-cum-alligator. Away from it all and off into his dreams.

Mulder woke up slowly, like swimming through a lake of cotton.
He was disoriented and more than a little sick to his stomach. The
dry mouth he always associated with hospital stays made his tongue
feel like sandpaper. Scully?

"I'm right here, Mulder."

He didn't think he'd said her name outloud, but he must have. Or
she just knew what he was thinking. He opened his eyes and
blinked against the overhead light. Scully reached over and flipped
the switch, leaving just the strip above his bed illuminated.

"Thirsty?" she asked and at his nod she lifted a spoonful of ice chips
to his mouth. He took them gratefully and after receiving two more
such offerings, he shook his head indicating that he'd had his fill.

"When do I get the cast off?" he asked, as the memories of the ER
finally fought their way through the fog surrounding his mind.

Scully sighed heavily and chewed on a corner of her lip. "Mulder,"
she started, but he shook his head.

"I know, I know, it'll take time. I'm just curious. You know I hate
the damned things. They itch and they get hot . . ."

"Mulder, stop for a minute and listen to me," Scully ordered firmly.
He looked at her with a curious expression. Usually when he woke
up after surgery, she was all sweetness and light. This time, she
look annoyed and upset.

"What? What's the matter?" he said and as the words left his
mouth, a hard lump of dread formed in his stomach as he watched
her fight her own emotions and pulled down her mask of detached
calm.

"They weren't able to save the leg," she said bluntly. After a
heartbeat, she reached for his hand and held on to it for dear life.
"Mulder, listen to me. Before you go off the deep end, here, I want
to talk to you. This isn't the end of the world, Mulder . . ."

"Deep end?" he sneered with an acid sarcasm. "They sawed off my
leg and you're telling me not to 'go off the deep end'? OK, Scully,
just what the hell am I supposed to be doing?"

His words hurt, but she tried not to let it show. "Mulder, I know
this is a terrible shock. I was beside myself when I heard. But they
left a stump for a prosthetic attachment . . ."

He couldn't hear her. The words no longer made sense to him. All
he could hear was that he'd lost his leg, lost it on a futile chase of a
lake monster who didn't exist. Her words from their conversation
in the middle of the lake came crashing back to him. Ahab. He was
Ahab. And just like in the story, Moby Dick had bested him, even
in death.

"Go away, Scully," he sobbed. "I don't, . . . I can't talk to you.
Please, just go."

Tears were streaming down her face. He'd seen her cry on so few
occasions, the sight terrified him. But her words were strong, firm,
unyielding.

"No, Mulder. Not like this. I'm not letting you shut me out. It's
not going to happen. I'm staying. We don't have to talk, I'll be
quiet. But I'm staying right here, because this is where I belong."

"Suit yourself," he said bitterly and turned his head so he couldn't
see her tears. He laid there and listened to their collective
breathing, listened to the heart monitor, which he hoped would stop
bleeping, hoped his heart would just stop. Finally, drugs and
emotional exhaustion dragged him back to sleep again.

He woke up some time later. Scully was gone from his bedside,
and for a brief moment, he was afraid he'd run her off. If he was
honest with himself, that would have been worse than waking up
without his leg. That would have been like waking up without his
life. He startled when the door opened and held his breath hoping it
was his partner. Instead it was a nurse.

She was an older woman with brown hair cut to chin length. She
wasn't really attractive, but he often preferred the older women
because of their gentleness and compassion. Beauty queens seldom
made great nurses. This one wore a tag which said 'Nurse Owens'.

"Hello, Fox. I see you're awake. I need to take your temp and
your blood pressure. Oh, and I'll check the dressings on your leg."
She smiled as she went to work, touching him with a tenderness
that almost lulled him back to sleep. Then he remembered who was
missing.

"My partner, um, my friend, Dana Scully. Where did she go?" he
asked, his heart thumping loudly in his ears waiting for the answer.

"Ah, Dana. Yes, she was sitting here beside you all night. I finally
convinced her to go down and get some breakfast. She told me she
figured you'd wait until she left to wake up," Nurse Owens scolded
good naturedly. "She'll be back soon. She left about 20 minutes
ago."

"I was afraid . . . I thought I might have . . ."

"Run her off?" Owens asked, her eyes growing soft with
compassion. "No," she said in a voice just above a whisper.
"There is nothing you could ever do to make her leave you, Fox.
You need to learn that. You need to understand what you mean to
her. What you mean to each other."

"What good will I be to her?" he sighed bitterly. "I can't work, I
can't earn a living . . ."

Nurse Owens leaned over the rail of the bed. "Do you really think
that, Fox. Or is that just self-pity talking?"

Her words shook him to the core, but they were said without
malice. She wasn't accusing him, she just saw in him what he was
doing to himself.

"I think there is much more to Fox Mulder than a foot and part of a
leg. I think there's a mind, which can still function, still give and
receive. And I'm pretty sure there's a heart. Unless the surgeon
slipped and accidently amputated that, too," she said, her eyes
twinkling. "I sorely hope that didn't happen. But you'll never
know. Maybe you should stretch it out, make sure it's still there."
She graced him with a smile and then straightened the blankets,
smoothing them over his chest and stomach. "You are still whole,
Fox. As long as you can think and breath and love, you are still
whole. Remember that."

Nurse Owen gave his hand a squeeze and left the room. He laid
there in the silence for a long time, thinking. It was true, his life
was changing dramatically. He could no longer be a field agent.
He might even have to leave the FBI.

For all the times he'd cursed his job, in reality, it was his life. He'd
stayed with it through triumph and humiliation. It had brought him
his greatest joys and some of his deeper sorrows. To leave it would
almost kill him.

But if he played this he'd been dealt correctly, he wouldn't be
leaving 'empty-handed'. What had Scully told him? She wasn't
going to leave him. He knew her, knew her steadfastness, her
stubborn determination. If anyone could help him turn his fate
around, snatch victory for the jaws of certain, dismal defeat, it was
Dana Scully. He might have lost a leg, but he had managed to
retain his heart.

He wondered where she was? She was certainly taking her own
sweet time at breakfast. Possibly, she managed to sneak away from
the hospital, go back to her cabin and grab a quick shower. She'd
be beside him soon, he was certain of it. With that reassurance
firmly in his mind, he allowed himself to sink once more into sleep.

"Hey, sleepyhead. You going to sack out all day, too?"

He smiled even though his eyes remained closed. He had
something to do, and he was glad she was there first thing as he
woke up so he wouldn't lose the courage to do it. He opened his
eyes and blinked at her.

"Scully." His throat was sore again. His mouth was dry, as dry as
it had been the first time he woke up. He assumed it was because
of the medication he was being given. He looked toward the
bedside table and noticed a cup and a spoon. Scully picked up his
thought before he could give it voice.

"Here. Ice chips. I know how much you _love_ ice chips," she
teased and proceeded to feed him a couple of spoonfuls. "Better?"
she asked and waited patiently for him to swallow.

"Yes, thanks. Scully, I want to apologize. I was an ass earlier. It
was just such a shock," he said quickly, wondering why his voice
was so raspy and he was losing it completely at the end.

"Mulder?" Scully asked, raising an eyebrow. "Mulder, it's all right.
Besides, I know you didn't like Queequeg that much. You didn't
kill my dog, Mulder, the alligator did. But you did kill the alligator,
so I guess that sort of evens the score, doesn't it?"

Mulder looked at her as if she'd just sprouted wings. "Scully, what
the hell are you talking about? I mean I was an ass when I tried to
throw you out of here. After you told me about my leg." How in
the world could she have forgotten?

She shook her head to clear the confusion. "Mulder, you just now
woke up. You were in surgery for five hours. The reconstruction
took a little longer than expected, but the doctor is certain that
circulation has been restored and there was almost no nerve
damage. You might have a couple of spots where you skin feels
like it's asleep for a little while, but nothing to worry about."

Now it was Mulder's turn to be confused. "Scully, what are you
talking about? They couldn't save the leg. You told me so
yourself," he accused, his eyes dark with fear.

Scully closed her eyes and shook her head, a tiny smile of affection
playing at the corners of her mouth. "Mulder, you've been out of it
for almost 18 hours. I have not left your side, save for one quick
trip to use your facilities. At one point, you were whimpering in
your sleep, and I tried to wake you up, but you were too groggy
from the drugs. You were dreaming, Mulder," she said firmly.
Then, just to prove her point, she used the controls to raise the
head of the bed.

Gently, careful of the bandages, she pulled back his covers. There,
on a pillow and connected to some machine he vaguely remembered
from the shooting in North Carolina, was his foot. Intact. A bit
pale, and there were still traces of betadine on it, looking a little like
dried blood, but it was there, attached and whole.

He stared at it in amazement. Scully kept talking. "You will be in a
cast, in a couple of weeks. For now, they have a soft cast on
because of the pins. See, these are attached to a sleeve around your
bone. You'll have to go in out-patient to have the pins removed.
But that won't be much of a problem, since you'll already be
staying at my place. The doctor insists that you have help during
recovery, Mulder. You'll be in a wheelchair for part of the time,
the leg must remain elevated. But once the pins are removed, and
the stitches, you'll be on crutches and then we can talk about going
back to the office for a little while each day. Oh, and by my
calculations, you have to work until you're 86 to make up all the
sick time you will have used up before this is over." She smiled
again and winked.

"It's still there," she whispered. Then he felt her hand in his, giving
his hand a loving squeeze.

"Yes, it's still there," he answered and gave her hand a squeeze in
return. He looked up at her and smiled. Little did she know, he
wasn't referring to just his leg.

the end.

Vickie

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"That movie warped my fragile
little mind!"

Cartman, 'TheSouth Park Movie'

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