Title: A Man Called Mulder
Disclaimers: The X-Files, it's characters, concepts and theories are not mine. They're owned by richer people than me, so please don't sue. You won't get much.
Key Words: Mulder, Amnesia, AU
Archiving: Ephemeral, Gossamer, Julie (put it where you want it.) My site. All others must ask.
Feedback: Send comments to Langleigh75@cs.com or firstname.lastname@example.org
Spoilers: Season 8, most specifically DeadAlive and since this is AU, everything else after that episode is being ignored.
Summary: Mulder wakes up with amnesia and must figure out who he really is.
Acknowledgements: To Julie, for the beta-reading. And suggestions. And just for being you.
Another Authors Note: I started this story right after DeadAlive and meant it to be AU, even then. It's the beginning of an AU arc that will someday crossover with the ill-fated but much loved Lone Gunmen Series and will someday become MSR. And, considering that Season 8 is over, will remain AU.
When his eyelids first fluttered open, they couldn't see a thing beyond the cruel light which blinded them. Then, slowly, he became accustomed to the light and the world around him came into focus. When it did, he realized that he was not alone, as he had thought. Someone was there. A woman.
She had red hair and a soft, rounded face. She was hovering over him, her hands touching his own, and when she realized that he was awake, she became very excited. Her reaction confused him. He looked at her, puzzling over what was going on and said, "Who are you?"
The excited look fell from the woman's face. "Mulder," she said, speaking a name he did not recognize though it did hold some familiarity in the back of his mind. "It's me. Scully."
He looked blankly at her, the name meaning nothing to him.
"You? You don't remember me?" the Scully-woman asked. He shook his head slowly. "What * do* you remember, Mulder?"
He closed his eyes, trying to think. The warm darkness behind his eyelids was comforting, and he found he preferred it to the lights surrounding the Scully-woman.
"Mulder?" she urged, and he opened his eyes once again. "What do you remember?" she all but whispered.
"I" he looked away. "Nothing," he said at last. "Nothing." He heard her soft gasp and turned back to her, studying her shocked face with the eyes of an innocent.
"Who am I?" he asked.
After the Scully-woman left, doctors and nurses rushed in and out of the room, talking to him-asking him questions he did not know how to answer. He could hear someone crying just beyond the door. It sounded like it could have been the Scully-woman, but she did not return and he did not understand why she would be crying.
Then a bald, heavyset man in a gray suit came into the room accompanied by one of the doctors.
"Mr. Mulder," the doctor said, calling him by the name he'd come to realize must be his own, though it rang no bells for him at all. "This is Assistant Director Walter Skinner, from the FBI. He'd like to talk to you for a while."
The man in the bed just looked blankly at the man in the gray suit. "FBI?" he asked, his facial expression indicating that he had no clue what that was.
"The Federal Bureau of Investigation," the doctor supplied. Then the doctor addressed Gray Suit. "I told you he was like this. He seems to have no real knowledge of the world he lives in." Gray Suit nodded and the doctor left.
"Federal Bureau of" Mulder whispered the title sounded familiar to him somehow, and he seemed to know that this was some form law enforcement agency. "Am I in some kind of trouble?" he asked.
"No, you're not in any trouble that I know of," Skinner replied.
"Then why are you here? Do you know who I am?" he asked. "Because I asked the red-head who was here when I woke up. She just started crying."
Skinner heaved a sigh, and said, "Your name is Fox Mulder. You're an agent with FBI-"
"The Federal Bureau of Investigation?" Mulder asked, repeating what the doctor had told him. "Are you my boss?" he asked.
"Sort of " Skinner said.
"Do I like you?" Mulder asked.
"I guess you could say we've been friends," Skinner answered.
"And that red-head.. she called herself Scully. Who is she?"
"She" Skinner hesitated. What could he say about Scully? It seemed that if Mulder had remembered anything or anyone, it would have been her. "She was your partner. You've worked together for a long time. You don't remember any of this, do you?" he asked, noting the increasingly troubled look on the recovered agent's face.
Mulder shook his head. "Should I?"