Timeline: Post-My Struggle II

Author's Note: A huge thank you to Sarah, for volunteering to beta read this thing. She's been more helpful than I ever imagined as both a sounding board and for letting me know when I start dropping articles left and right.

I don't typically write fic, but this wouldn't leave me alone. It's incredibly self-indulgent, but that's what happens when I have to fix all of the mistakes of the show. And finally: I went to law school, not medical school. That's my excuse for googling "stem cell therapy." What's yours, Scully?


the first.

3:19 p.m.
Wednesday, March 23, 2016
Our Lady of Sorrows Hospital
Washington, D.C.

Fox Mulder wished someone would just take pity on him and put a bullet in his head already.

Surely being dead wouldn't hurt as much as this? Actually, he knew it didn't hurt as much as this. Every part of him ached and he felt chilled to the bone.

Against his better judgment, he slowly prepared to open his eyes and figure out where the fuck he was now. The last thing he remembered was somehow driving himself to South Carolina to meet with the reanimated corpse of CGB Spender. Had it all been a trap? Was he still there?

He squinted against the bright lights. The white tiled ceiling above him and the antiseptic smell reminded him of every hospital room he had the pleasure of visiting in his fifty-four years. Mulder became aware of a pair of unfamiliar voices in the room just beyond his bed.

"Sure seems like a waste to do the transplant tomorrow. After only a few days of chemo?"

"I don't think his system could handle much more – we've got no choice."

"I sure hope Dr. Huang is right about this. I don't think there's been much improvement in his vitals since Dr. Scully brought him in."

Even the mention of Scully's name couldn't stop Mulder from sliding back into unconsciousness once more.