Strands In The Web Of Life
by Cathy Roberts
huntersglenn@yahoo.com
An "E.R."/"The X-Files" crossover
story featuring John Carter
and Fox Mulder. Rated G.
"E.R." and all its characters belong to Warner Bros; "The
X-Files" and all its characters are the property of Chris Carter,
1013 productions and Fox Broadcasting. No infringement of
their copyrights is intended. This story was written for
the enjoyment of "ER" and "The X-Files" fans everywhere, and
may be downloaded for your own pleasure. However this
story may not be used, distributed or archived without the
permission of the author.
Note: Chief Seattle, real name Sealth, was Chief of the
Suquamish tribe in the Pacific Northwest. The city of Seattle,
Washington was named for him. He is most famous for his
eloquent speeches and letters. There has been some discussion
that he might not have written all of his own speeches. However,
even if he was not the author, the words are as true today as
they were in the 1800's. Be sure to check him out.
As always, thanks to Melissa for being my editor, and thanks to
Michelle for some assistance with the culture and climate of
England, especially Oxford. If I got anything wrong, blame me,
not her. She tried her best to educate me. I am also grateful
to Linda, even though I've never even had the pleasure of meeting
her by e-mail. She's one of Michelle's friends and was kind
enough to read over the story to check for Oxford errors. The
assistance is greatly appreciated.
December 22, 1983 - Oxford, England
The laughter of the young men was boisterous as they
made their way down the crowded street. With Christmas three
days away, the majority of students had already left for break.
But, a few remained, and amongst those remaining was an American,
Fox Mulder. This was his first year at Oxford and he was just
as enchanted with England now as he had been the day he arrived.
He loved all of it -- from the dependable rains to the way he
could feel the lifeblood of the entire island. Being here brought
to life the words of a speech by Chief Seattle, "When the last
red man shall have perished, and the memory of my tribe shall
have become a myth among the white men, these shores will swarm
with the invisible dead of my tribe...At night when the streets
of your cities and villages are silent and you think them deserted,
they will throng with the returning hosts that once filled and
still love this beautiful land. The white man will never be
alone. Let him be just and deal kindly with my people, for the
dead are not powerless. Dead, did I say? There is no death, only
a change of worlds."
If he stood still long enough, Mulder could feel the spirits around
him. From the original inhabitants of the British Isles to all
the invaders, he could feel them as they watched over their
brethren. But, tonight was not a night for feeling the spirits
of the dead. Tonight was going to be a night to party. He and
his friends had studied hard and they were prepared to celebrate
just as hard. Mulder still wasn't quite used to the fact that
the pubs were open for lunch, but then closed until the
evening. If he were back in the states, then he and his friends
would be headed for a bar. But, he wasn't back home, he was in
Oxford. So, they were on their way to a party at the flat of a
friend of one of his classmates. There would be food, alcohol and
fun, and afterward they would all head to the nearest pub to
celebrate in style. And why not? It was Christmas, and with a
few exceptions, all was right with the world.
Yet he found himself stopping on the sidewalk, an uneasy feeling
welling up inside of him. And his feelings had never misled
him. Something was wrong. He stopped, not caring that his
friends were continuing on without him. Looking around,
he looked at the faces of the shoppers passing him, didn't see
any sign that something was wrong. Still, that feeling persisted.
Cocking his head to one side, he listened, and when the crowds
thinned out, he took a few steps away from the pub. That was when
he heard it. It was a small sound at first, but as he neared the
alleyway, it became louder and more pronounced. It was the sound
of someone crying. Stepping into the opening, he let his eyes
become accustomed to the darkness there; then he saw the small
figure crouched by the back wall. He slowly walked towards him,
wondering why a child would be so unhappy this close to Christmas.
Not everyone had the misfortunes of his life. And even more
alarming to him was why in Hell the child was in a dark alley
alone. Where was his family? Was he lost or hurt?
He squatted down by the child and refrained from touching him. He
appeared, from what Mulder could see of him, to be about eleven
or so. And from the uniform that he could see peeking out from
the overcoat, a student at one of the local boarding schools.
St. Anthony's, if his recollection of the colors was correct.
Finally the boy sniffed. "Go away," he sullenly said.
Mulder grinned as he recognized the American accent. "Hey, I'm
far from home, too."
The boy looked up then, his eyes unreadable in the dark. "You're
from America?"
"Yep. I'm from Martha's Vineyard. Do you know where that is?"
The boy nodded. "My family goes there every summer. My
grandparents own a house there."
"Really? Maybe I know who they are. What are their names?"
"Robert and Millicent Carter."
Mulder nodded. He had heard of the Carter family. They
arrived every June 15th, and left every August 31st. Their
"house" was actually an estate, and quite a beautiful one at
that. When they weren't on the Vineyard, they lived in Chicago.
Mulder had even played with some of the Carter grandchildren
over the summers, but it had been years since he had seen any
of them. "I've played with some of your family, I think. It
was a long time ago, but I remember playing with a boy named Doug."
The boy nodded. "He's my cousin."
"So, do you have a name?"
The boy nodded. "I'm not allowed to tell my name to strangers."
"Good advice. I'm Fox Mulder." When the boy simply looked at
him, Mulder continued, "Shouldn't you be back at school getting
ready to go home for Christmas?" Mulder wasn't sure what the
schedules were for the private boarding schools, but it seemed
reasonable to him that they wouldn't be too far off from the Oxford
schedule. After all, school was school, no matter the grade.
"I'm not going home for Christmas. The other boys left a few days
ago, and I was waiting to hear from my family. Then my father
called today to tell me that I would have to stay here. I don't
want to stay here. I hate it here." The boy's distress was clearly
etched on his face and he angrily wiped away the new tears that were
starting to flow. "I didn't ask to come here."
"I'm sorry. But, since you're supposed to be staying at the
school over Christmas break, don't you think that they'll be
missing you right about now?"
"I don't care. I'm going to London to find a way to get home."
"I see." Mulder nodded, wondering what he could possibly do
to keep the boy from attempting that. "You have your passport
then?"
The boy frowned. "No. It's back at school."
"Well, you can't leave the country without it."
"I know that. I'm not some dumb kid, you know," the boy
snapped.
"I know. I didn't mean to say that you were. I think I
should walk with you back to your school. Then you can get
your passport and leave again." Mulder knew that he would
never catch up to his friends, but right now partying with them
didn't seem to have the same importance as getting the boy to
someplace safe.
"You won't tell them that I'm running away?" the boy couldn't
keep the skepticism out of his voice.
"No, I won't tell them. You can consider that to be my
Christmas present to you." Mulder stood. "You go to St.
Anthony's, right?"
The boy scrambled to his feet. "That's right."
They walked out of the alley and down the street. It was
obvious that Mulder's friends had given up on him. He didn't
really want to get drunk, so it wasn't much of a loss to him,
he thought. As they came into the warm glow of a streetlight,
Mulder took a look at his companion. The boy was tall and,
despite the bulk of his overcoat, skinny. Dark hair under his
cap and dark eyes as well. But, pale. So very pale. He
obviously needed to get outside more.
There was an ache in Mulder's heart that had been there since
the night his younger sister had disappeared. He had enjoyed
being an older brother and having someone look up to him. Not
that it stopped him from picking on Samantha. No way. That's
what little sisters were put on Earth for, right? But, he had
failed her that night. Left to watch her, he had lost her
instead. His parents and the police had searched for her, but
they never found any sign of Sam. It was as if she had
disappeared into thin air. And after that night, things had
never been the same. His parents seemed to despise each other
and Mulder was sure they both blamed him for Sam's disappearance.
And why not? He blamed himself every day for not taking better
care of her. And so it was that seeing this lonely boy, all
alone in a foreign country, yet determined to get home, he
had felt his big brother instinct kick in. He couldn't just
leave the boy at the school. He knew that he would try
to get to London on his own and he couldn't just stand by and
let that happen. What if he disappeared before he got there?
Or before he realized that he couldn't get home and decided to
return to school on his own? No, he couldn't chance that. But
he had promised that he wouldn't tell the school officials that
the boy was planning to run away, so how could he stop him?
This was going to require a lot of quick thinking on the walk.
Maybe if he proved to the boy that he wasn't as alone as he
felt then the boy would stay.
"So, you still haven't told me your name. You told me the names
of your grandparents and I did play with your cousin, so I'm not
exactly a stranger."
"John Carter."
"So, John, have you thought about how you're going to get to
America once you get to London?"
"I can fly home to Chicago. That's how I got here."
"I see. You have the money for the ticket?"
"I have close to two hundred dollars in American money and
over a hundred pounds British. I can buy a ticket."
"You just might be able to manage that," Mulder said, feeling
even more worried. That could be enough money for a ticket.
"If they'll sell a ticket to a child."
"I'm not a child. I'm twelve years old. Almost a teenager,"
the boy vehemently informed him.
"Sorry. I thought you were younger."
"Everyone thinks that. All the guys at school think I'm some
kind of a baby because I miss home and want to go back. Most
of them have been going to St. Anthony's for years, so they don't
think anything of being here. I've never been at a boarding
school."
"What made your parents decide to send you here? Were you doing
badly in school?"
"I don't always do well on tests. They make me nervous. But,
I still mange to get good grades."
"Then why here? Are they living here, too?"
"No," John sadly replied. "They're traveling. They decided
that Barbara and I would be better off at a boarding school, so
they sent us here. I think my grandfather went here when he
was a boy."
"Barbara is your sister?"
"Yeah. She likes it here, but I don't get to see her much.
She's over at Harewoods Academy for Girls. She's younger
than me, so I guess it is easier for her."
"The young do tend to adjust more easily."
John stopped and looked up at him. "That wasn't what I meant."
"Sorry. What did you mean, then?"
"Bobby, our older brother, died back in the spring. He had
leukemia and had been fighting it for a year or so. He died
at home, which was what he wanted. Bobby is...was almost two
years older than me, and I'm two years older than Barbara.
So, she really didn't know him the way I did."
"You were close to him?"
John nodded. "Very close. Mom had a bad time of it when
Bobby died, so Dad decided that he would take her on a trip.
She seemed to be more herself once they got back, and Dad
then said that they would do a lot of traveling. He didn't
want us staying with our grandparents, so he sent us here. To
get us out of the way."
"I'm sure he didn't mean it that way. The schools here have
an excellent reputation, John. Your Dad just wants you and
your sister to get a good education."
John shook his head. "They don't want us around. We get in
the way. Bobby was Dad's favorite anyway." John shrugged,
then continued to walk down the street.
Mulder followed John, easily falling into step with him once
more. His heart ached even more for the boy, feeling as he
did about his own sister. "My sister disappeared a long time
ago. I was supposed to be watching her and she simply
disappeared. She was never found. I think the police ended
up declaring her officially dead."
"I'm sorry. Were you close to her?"
Mulder nodded. "Yeah, we were close. When bad things like
that happen, some families end up falling apart. Mine did.
You're lucky that your parents are still together."
"I guess. It would be nice to see them though. It isn't
fair to lose my brother and then feel like I'm losing my
parents, too."
Mulder couldn't deny that, so he kept silent. The pair was
quiet as they walked the rest of the way to St. Anthony's, and
as they reached the school grounds, Mulder was surprised to find
that they were now on the outskirts of town. He hadn' realized
they had walked that far and he began to worry once more about
John. How long ago had it been when he left the building and
walked to the center of town? Certainly long enough for the
housemaster to have noticed his absence and called the police
or even gone out looking for him on his own. As they neared
one of the residences, John stopped again.
"Thanks. You don't have to wait around."
"I don't mind. You really shouldn't walk to the train station
alone."
"I'll be right back."
Mulder watched John go into the house, then he sat on the steps
to wait for his return. The cold from the stones seeped into
his bones and he soon tired of sitting there. He checked his
watch, wondering just how long it could take for John to go
to his room to get something. After twenty minutes had passed,
he decided it was time to take action. He jogged up the steps
and rang the bell.
An attractive older woman answered the door and he introduced
himself.
"I need to speak with the housemaster. Is he in?"
She nodded. "Mr. Blevins is watching television with the
children. Please come in, Mr. Mulder." She held the door
open for him, then closed it and led him to the recreation
room. It wasn't difficult to spot Mr. Blevins in the room
since he was the only other adult present. And it wasn't
hard to see which of the five children there were boarders
and which belonged to Mr. and Mrs. Blevins. So, from the
look of things, besides John, there were two other boarders
staying over Christmas. Mrs. Blevins introduced him to her
husband.
"May we speak in private?" Mulder asked.
"Of course. Why don't we go into the kitchen? I promised
hot chocolate to the children anyway."
Mulder followed the man into the cozy kitchen.
"I'm here to speak with you about John Carter."
"Has he done something wrong? If so, then it wasn't something
he did today. He's been hiding out in his room since right after
lunch, Mr. Mulder."
Mulder ignored the implication that John had been in
trouble before. The important thing was making sure that he didn't
get into trouble again. "I ran into him near the town center a
short time ago. I walked back here with him and he came into the
house while I waited outside. That was about twenty minutes ago."
Mr. Blevins sighed. "He knows he's not allowed to leave the house
without permission. I don't know how he could have left. We
keep the door locked. It's a question of safety for the boys."
"Well, when we got here, he walked right on inside."
Mr. Blevins frowned, then walked across the kitchen to open one
of the cabinets. He pulled down a tin from the top shelf and
opened it, then his frown deepened. "We keep a spare key in here
in case of emergencies. It's missing. I would guess that John
either heard Mrs. Blevins and I talking about it or saw one of
us checking on the key. The boys are quite adept at finding our
hiding places and we have to move the key several times during
the term."
"Mr. Blevins, he was trying to run away. He's upset about not
being able to go home for Christmas."
Mr. Blevins nodded. "I know. He tries his best to hide his
feelings, but he doesn't always succeed. He does have family in
town though, a sister boarding at Harewoods, so that should make
it easier for him. I suppose he can't help it if he gets
homesick. Still, that doesn't excuse him running off into
town. It can be dangerous out there, Mr. Mulder, especially once
it gets dark. We have very strict rules about when and where
the boys can go, and they know they aren't to go off alone."
"I thought it was odd that he was alone in the middle of town.
I didn't think he should be out alone, so I offered to walk back
here with him so he could get his passport out of his room.
I had to think of some way to buy time in order to talk him
out of trying to go to London to get home."
Mr. Blevins nodded. "That you for taking the time to do that."
He looked thoughtful, then asked, "Did he tell you that his passport
was here?"
"Not exactly. I mentioned that he couldn't leave the country
without it and he said it was at school. Why?"
"The passports are kept in a safe in the Headmaster's office. We
would never let children hold on to their passports. They have a
difficult enough time keeping track of their text books, I can't
imagine what would happen if we let them hold onto something as
important as a passport. Would you mind waiting here while I go
up to check on John?"
"No. Please take your time. I'm as anxious as you are to know
that he's all right."
Mulder leaned against the counter as he waited once more for
someone to return. He could hear laughter coming from the
other room, and it made him feel slightly homesick. But, for
a home that had ceased to exist years ago. He was so caught
up in his memories that he didn't know Mr. Blevins was back
in the kitchen until the man spoke.
"John is not in his room. I'm afraid he tricked you, Mr. Mulder.
I need to go look for him. You said he was headed for London?"
"Yes. I had assumed he would try to take the train, but he
might be brave enough to try to catch a ride. I'd like to
help you look for him, if that's all right?"
"That's fine. With two of us looking, we can cover a much
larger area. Let me ring around to the other houses. I
don't think that all of the teachers have left for their
holiday yet, so they can help us look."
"Don't you think it would be better to call the police?"
Mr. Blevin's shook his head. "Not yet. If we can't find him
within the hour, then I'll call. But, I would prefer to try to
find him on our own first. The school doesn't like the publicity
that can result from having to call in the police."
Mulder wanted to argue with the man, but didn't think he could
convince him to change his mind. Besides, he did say that he
would call if they couldn't find John in a short time.
A few minutes later, Mulder and Mr. Blevins headed out into
the dark evening. Other men from the school were out
looking for John, so Mulder felt confident that someone would
find the boy. He just hoped it would be soon. It was only
five in the evening, but it was totally dark outside, and it
was beginning to rain. It reminded him too much of the many
English murder mysteries he had read: a dark, cold and rainy
night. A missing child. A body found in the woods. He shook
his head, not wanting to think of all the awful things that
could happen to John. He needed to be confident that John
would be found. He would be cold and wet, but he would be
found.
The two men split up, with Mulder headed away from the school
and town. He hadn't gone far when he stopped, thinking that
John wouldn't leave England without saying goodbye to his sister.
Not the way that boy felt about his family. Luckily, Harewoods
was also in this direction, so Mulder wouldn't have to retrace
his steps. He was almost there when he saw John a short distance
ahead of him. With a burst of speed, he ran up to the boy, easily
stopping beside him and altering his stride to match John's.
John looked startled at first, but then he shrugged and kept
walking.
"I'm not going back."
"Mr. Blevins and a lot of other people are out looking for you.
You wouldn't want them to get soaking wet for nothing, would you?"
"I didn't ask them to look for me. I didn't tell them I was
leaving." John glared up at Mulder. "That must have been you."
Mulder nodded. "I was worried about you. Despite the fact that
you think you're old enough to make it home on your own, there
are dangers out here, John. I can't just let you walk away and
not try to stop you."
"I don't need you to be my father."
"I was thinking that maybe you needed me to be your friend,"
Mulder gently replied.
"You're a lot older than me. Why would you want to be my friend?"
Mulder shrugged. "I guess it's because I think we have a lot in
common. And, we're both here, far from home."
"You like it here. I could tell that earlier by the way you spoke
about how great the schools were. I don't like it here. I don't
want to be here, and I'm not staying here."
"I can't let you go out on your own, John."
"You can't stop me."
The two faced each other down on the sidewalk, neither one willing
to back down. Finally, Mulder sighed.
"I'm sorry about this." He reached out and grabbed John by the
upper arm, determined to throw the boy over his shoulder if he had
to. He had let his initial assessment of John's physique throw
off his judgement. While the boy was tall and thin, he was not
so thin as to be easily manhandled, and he quickly twisted out of
Mulder's grasp. Then he took off running, not hesitating to cut
through the yards.
"John," Mulder called, as he began to chase him. "Stop. I'm
sorry. Stop."
Mulder knew he was in good shape, but he was surprised that John
could out run him. Of course, John had the edge in that he could
duck under branches and squirm his way through hedges that Mulder
had to go around. Soon though, they were back on a road and
Mulder knew they were headed toward the river. Beyond that, they
would reach one of the main roads and John could just manage to
catch a ride away from Oxford. As he approached the bridge, Mulder
skidded to a stop. There was no sound or sign of John. The only
things Mulder could hear were the steady rain and the river rushing
by below him. Had John been fast enough to cross the bridge already?
He didn't think so. He could have sworn he had spotted him just a
few seconds earlier. He looked around, trying to think about where
someone might hide. Inside, he was fighting back the panic that
screamed at him, telling him he had lost John the same way he had
lost Samantha so very long ago. No, he shook his head. He would
find John.
A splash and a cry caught his attention and he suddenly knew
that John had tried to hide under the bridge. Rushing to the
side, he looked down, grateful that there were street lamps lining
the path that ran parallel to the river as well as lights on
the bridge. With their light, he was able to see John struggling
in the cold water.
"Hang on," he shouted as he ran back to the bank. Slipping off
his shoes and coat, he slid down the slope to the river, then
jumped in. The icy water stung his skin, even through his clothes,
but he pushed aside all awareness of his discomfort. He had to reach
John, and he had to reach him quickly. He could see the dark
head bobbing under and knew that John's heavy wool coat was
pulling him down. Finally though, he stretched out his arm
and his hand grabbed the material. Pulling with all his might,
he pulled John around until his face was out of the water, then
headed back for shore. By some miracle, Blevins and another
man were waiting there, and Blevins took John from him while
the other man helped him get out of the water. John's lips
were blue and his skin was cold, but he was breathing.
"We've got to get him warm. Jennings, call for an ambulance,"
Blevins said as he stripped John's sodden coat from his body,
then began to peel away his uniform. Once that was done, he
removed his raincoat and jacket, wrapping John in the jacket
first, then in the raincoat. "It's a good thing Jennings and
I thought to head for Harewoods to look for John. We saw you
running and I assumed you were chasing the boy." He gave Mulder
a careful look over. "I think you should get out of those wet
clothes, Mr. Mulder."
Mulder nodded, then shivered as he pulled off his soaked clothes
and quickly donned his overcoat. When Jennings returned, he offered
his raincoat to Mulder, who gratefully accepted it with shaking
hands, knowing the added material would help get him warm. He
didn't like the fact that John wasn't shaking. That couldn't
be a good sign. After what felt like an eternity, the
ambulancemen arrived, taking both of them in hand, then to the
hospital, where they were separated for treatment.
Hours later, Mulder was once more warmly dressed, courtesy
of the Blevins family.
"My clothes are a bit large for you, but they'll do until
you can get home to change," Blevins remarked.
"Thank you. All I want to do is go home and crawl into bed."
"Would you like to visit John before you leave? He's
been asking to see you."
Mulder nodded. He had earlier asked about the boy and had
been relieved to find out that he would be fine. He was being
kept overnight as a precaution, but his lungs were clear.
Aside from being cold and embarrassed, John was fine. He
followed Blevins to John's room. Pausing in the doorway, he
watched the two children in the room. The girl was obviously
John's sister, and she was fussing over him. As for John,
he looked very pale and small against the starched white
sheets. John looked up, then smiled as he saw him.
"Please come in. Barbara, this is Fox Mulder. He saved
my life."
The young girl smiled up at Mulder, unshed tears in her eyes.
Mulder knew that despite her age, she had to be upset over
the fact that she had almost lost another brother tonight.
"Thank you so much, Mr. Mulder," she said. "I don't know
what I'd do without Johnny."
"It was nothing. I like going for swims in icy cold rivers
during rainstorms. It's a hobby of mine." He gave her his
best smile and was gratified to see the sadness leave her eyes.
"Barbara, I think that Mrs. Bailey is ready to go back to
the school. I'll take you to her," Blevins said.
"Yes, sir." Barbara climbed onto the bed to give John a big
hug, then she followed Blevins out.
"Thank you," John said. "I'm glad you were there to pull
me out."
"Hell, if it wasn't for me, you wouldn't have fallen into
the river in the first place. You were trying to hide from
me, right?"
John nodded. "I didn't realize how muddy it was and I
slipped. But it wasn't your fault. I was the one trying
to run away. That was dumb."
"Not so dumb. You want to be home. There's nothing dumb
about that, John. Since we're both here over the holidays,
why don't we take a day trip to London? Maybe the day after
Christmas? How does that sound to you?"
"I'd like that, but I don't think that Mr. Blevins will let
me go anywhere now. Even if I hadn't tried to run away, they
have strict rules about who we go off with."
"Well, we'll see how things are once they release you
tomorrow, okay? Maybe Mr. Blevins will allow you to have
visitors."
John nodded. "Okay."
"Well, I had better get going. I'm sure that Mr. Blevins
will want his clothes back first thing in the morning, so I
need to get home and get them washed. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Sure."
Mulder was almost out the door when John spoke again.
"Mr. Mulder?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad I met you, even if I did make you take a swim in icy
cold water in the middle of a rainstorm."
Mulder grinned. "I'm glad, too, kid." And he knew that he
really meant it. "By the way, most people just call me Mulder."
John smiled. "I'll try to remember that."
County General Hospital, December 22, 1999
John Carter picked up the chart and read over it carefully,
wanting the latest vitals to be good. As a doctor, he knew
that the gunshot victim was not out of the woods yet, but that
Benton and Corday had done the best job possible to make sure
that he lived. Right now, the life of Fox Mulder was in the
hands of God and not in his. He returned the chart to the box
at the foot of the bed, then settled into the chair, looking
carefully at his old friend. How long had it been since he
had last seen Mulder? Ages. He remembered the night they
met. He had been feeling sorry for himself because his parents
weren't going to be home for Christmas and didn't see any
reason why he and Barbara should travel from England to Chicago.
Determined to run away, despite Mulder's worries about the
dangers, he had instead found himself drowning in the river.
Luckily, Mulder had been there to save him. And he was there
the rest of the school term as well, and the one after that. He
had been like a big brother to him, there to listen when he
needed to talk. There to just walk when he didn't want to talk,
but didn't want to be alone either.
"How's he doing?"
John looked up at Elizabeth Corday and shook his head. "No
change. Is his partner still waiting?"
Elizabeth nodded. "She's also a doctor, so she knows the odds
right now. A real trooper. It's a good thing for him that she
was there to do emergency first aid on him. I don't think he would
have lasted until the paramedics arrived."
John nodded, then turned his attention back to Mulder. He couldn't
die. There were too many things he just now realized that he
needed to say to him.
"You said he was a friend of yours?"
"Yeah. We met back when I was in boarding school in Oxford."
"As in Oxford, England?" She grinned as he nodded. "You never
mentioned that you lived in England."
"It was only for two years. I don't know what possessed my
parents to send us there, but they did. Later they decided
that my sister and I would be better off going to a boarding
school here."
"He doesn't look young enough to have been at boarding school
with you."
"He was at the University. He saved my life. God, it was sixteen
years ago tonight. I slipped and ended up in the river and
he jumped in after me. If he had been slower, or not been
there at all, then I wouldn't be here right now."
Elizabeth nodded, then quoted, "Man did not weave the web of
life, he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the
web, he does to himself."
"Chief Seattle supposedly said that."
"I've been reading up a lot recently about Native Americans.
Even if Chief Seattle didn't say that, it's true. If he
hadn't saved your life sixteen years ago, then you
wouldn't have been here tonight to save his."
"I guess you could look at it that way. I didn't do anything
special, just what I normally do."
Elizabeth shook her head. "You really don't know how good
you are, do you? Mark and Luka were ready to give up on this
man, but you refused to let him die. You saved him, John."
"You and Benton saved him in the O.R. All I did was get him
stabilized for surgery."
"I'd say he owes more to you than he does to us. I promised
to keep his partner updated on how he's doing. Would you like
to come with me?"
John nodded. He had not caught more than a glimpse of the
petite red-head who had accompanied Mulder into the E.R. and
he was interested in finding out if she was also Mulder's friend.
"Hang in there, Mulder. I'll be right back."
John ended up spending nearly an hour with Dana Scully. After
sharing many stories about Mulder, he finally convinced her to
return to her motel to get some sleep, promising to call her
immediately if Mulder's condition worsened.
Returning to the I.C.U., John took up his silent vigil once
more. This time his patience was rewarded when Mulder opened
his eyes and began to look around the room. He looked up at
him, his expression unreadable, but he made it plain by the
way his hands reached for the tube that he wanted to be
extubated. John quickly obliged him.
"How are you feeling?"
"Like shit. What happened?" Mulder's voice was raspy, but audible.
"You were shot at point blank range from behind. Luckily
for you, your partner was nearby and she immediately called
911 and did all she could to keep you alive until help arrived.
She'll be relieved to know that you're awake."
"Is Scully here?"
"I sent her back to the motel to sleep. She'll be here
first thing in the morning."
Mulder squinted up at him. "I know you."
John grinned. "Yeah, you know me. We first met sixteen
years ago in Oxford."
Mulder weakly smiled. You've grown up, John Carter. You kept
saying you were going to be a doctor one day. I'm glad to see
that you made it."
"Yeah. Well, you need to rest now. You'll be here for at
least a week, so we'll have plenty of time to catch up with
each other."
When Mulder opened his eyes again, Scully was seated by
his side. She smiled when she saw him awake.
"That was a close call, Mulder."
"Believe me, I know. Any idea who shot me?"
"Not yet. We're working on it though. Skinner is determined
to leave no stone unturned."
"This is not where I was last night," Mulder said as he
looked around. He knew that he had not been in a regular
room before.
"Last night was two nights ago, Mulder. It's Christmas Eve."
"Oh well, I never really liked Christmas that much anyway."
"Really? That's not what John tells me."
Mulder pressed the buttons on the side of the bed until he was
sitting up. It was much nicer to try to talk to Scully from
that angle. "Am I allowed water?"
"Sure." She poured him a cup, then helped him take a few sips.
"So, just what has John been telling you about me?"
"Just that you were the greatest friend a lonely and scared
boy could have."
"Well, for a kid, John wasn't too bad as a friend either."
"Especially not the other night. He saved your life, Mulder.
You had lost a lot of blood. Too much, really. The other
doctors were ready to declare you dead. He wasn't. He
brought you back."
Mulder slowly smiled. "I guess it's true then that what
goes around, comes around."
"He told me that you saved his life. From what I've heard
from the other doctors and the nurses, the night you saved
John Carter, you saved a Hell of a lot of other people."
"So maybe him saving my life now will be a good thing, too?
I think that trying to save mankind is a good thing, don't you?"
"A very good thing. If you can just live long enough to do
it."
"I'm doing my best."
She shook her head. "Right. Hold that thought while I let
them know you're awake again."
When the door to his room opened, Mulder was expecting it
to be Scully returning. But he was pleasantly surprised
to see John Carter coming to visit him.
"Dana said you were awake. How do you feel?"
"I've been better. I hear I should thank you for saving my
life this time around," Mulder grinned.
"It was the least I could do. You know, when I was waiting
for you to wake up in the I.C.U., I kept thinking about all
these things I wanted to say to you. I wanted to thank you
for being my friend when I needed one the most. You kept
telling me to never give up on my dreams."
"Good advice to give. It wasn't so easy for me to follow
though. I've gotten better at it over the years."
John grinned. "Me, too. I've let some dreams slip by, but
I think I've managed to hold onto the important ones."
"I think I've managed that much as well. You know, I should
be thanking you, too. After Samantha disappeared, I thought
that I was a failure as a brother. Not good enough to keep
anyone safe. You helped me to see that I wasn't a total
failure. You listened to my advice."
"I think that maybe we were what each of us needed at that
time."
"Yeah." Mulder agreed. He suddenly yawned. "Sorry."
John smiled. "I'll let you get some sleep. The more you
rest, the sooner you'll be out of here. Dana did mention
that you don't like hospitals too much."
"I think she was making an understatement. I hate them.
They're fine for other people, but not me."
"Well, we'll do everything we can to get you out of here
as soon as possible. Despite the fact that you had to get
shot in order to end up in here, it was nice to see you
again."
"Same here. We should make an effort to keep in touch from
now on."
"Yeah," John agreed, telling himself that since he now had
an address for Mulder, he would do just that.
Mulder watched John leave the room, thinking that he wouldn't let
this friendship slip through his hands again. He didn't have many
friends, and he was beginning to realize that he needed one.
Besides, it would be interesting to see if fate would have them
save each other again. There was still a connection between
them, Mulder could feel that much, despite the pain medication
he was taking. He fell asleep, knowing that the night he made
the decision to not go to a party was one he would never regret.
The end.