Part 2/2
Disclaimers in Part 1


DAY 4
1:57pm

    *"LANGLY!!  BYERS!!  Can you guys hear me?  Where are 
you??"*
    
    Langly struggled to wake up, not knowing when he had fallen
asleep.  He thought he had heard something, someone calling.
    He fought into a sitting position, leaving his right hand on
Byers' arm.  Taking a deep breath, he yelled as loud as he 
could,  "HEY!  We're in HERE!!"  His voice sounded weak,
but the echo of the room amplified it.
    The sound of running footsteps outside the door caught
Langly's attention.  Closer now, another shout, "Langly?"
    It was Mulder, followed by Scully yelling to someone else
that they had found the men.
    "Mulder!!  In here!" Langly rasped, coughing.
    There was a moment of silence, then the sweet sound of
the door being unlocked.  
    Mulder pushed the door open and grinned when he saw
Langly looking back at him from the floor.
    "Jesus!" the agent exclaimed as he rushed over to his 
friends.  Behind him was Scully with a police officer.
    Mulder knelt down and hugged Langly, who gave a startled
laugh at his friend's exuberance.  "Easy, dude," he grunted.
    Scully turned to the officer next to her.  "Get those EMTs 
in here now!" she ordered.  He ran out, and she hurried over
to where Byers was laying.  "How long has he been 
unconscious?" she asked Langly.  
    Langly calculated quickly in his head.  "At least since they
brought him in here...almost thirty-six hours."
    "Damn," she muttered, checking her patient's vital signs
quickly.  She noted that he was very pale and cold, his lips
a pale blue.  Glancing up, she saw that Langly was also
showing signs of hypothermia.  
    Mulder noticed Langly was shaking as the paramedics 
came into the room.  Two of them knelt beside Byers as 
Scully moved aside.  A third moved to Langly, quickly 
wrapping a blanket around him.  Mulder stayed next to him, 
keeping his arm tight around his friend's shoulders, making
an effort to warm him up.
    Langly appreciated Mulder's presence.  The initial
adrenaline rush upon waking was quickly wearing off and
he found himself struggling to remain conscious.
    Mulder felt Langly start to slump against him.  "Hey,
easy, buddy.  Stay with me," he said softly.
    Langly tried to nod, but the effort was just too much.
Vaguely he heard voices drifting further away as he
felt Mulder's arms tighten around him.

    Frohike's heart nearly stopped when he saw Byers 
being taken to the ambulance on a stretcher.  He looked 
around frantically for Scully, hoping she could tell him
what was happening.
    As he approached the building, he saw Scully hurry 
out.  She caught his eye and he ran to where she was
helping the paramedics load Byers into the vehicle.
"Scully, what's going on?  Are they okay?" he asked,
growing more worried at seeing how pale Byers looked.
    "We don't know yet," Scully answered gently.  "I'm
going to ride with Byers; you go with Langly," she told
him, pointing to where the second crew was taking 
the younger man to the other ambulance.  
    Wasting no time, he simply nodded and ran to follow
his other roommate into the back of the rig.
    The EMT in the back with them smiled at him as 
the doors were closed by a police officer and they
took off, siren blaring.
    Frohike looked down at Langly.  The blond man 
was barely conscious.  He had a gray blanket covering
his body, but the older man could see that his jaw was
still shaking from cold.  
    As the medic took his patient's arm and started a 
saline IV, Frohike reached up and stroked Langly's
hair, silently comforting him.


Georgetown Medical     
5:34pm

    Langly felt something cool and damp persistently
patting his forehead, like when a cat licks its owner's 
hand.  He hesitantly opened his eyes, silently thankful 
that the light was low.
    "Scully, he's waking up," a soft voice above him
said.  Blinking his surroundings into semi-focus, he
saw Frohike leaning over him, holding a cloth in his
hand.  The older man smiled down at him in relief.
"Hey, kiddo.  Welcome back."
    "Langly?" Scully was on his other side now, looking
at him with a concerned face.  
    The blond man tried to reply, but the effort was 
halted by the dry, chalky sensation in his throat.
    "Shhh, hang on," Scully told him softly, reaching
to the side.  She raised the head of the bed a bit,
then grabbed the cup of ice chips from the table.
"Here, this will help," she said, spooning some into
his mouth.  He was too weary and sore to enjoy the
experience of having Scully feed him, even if it 
was just frozen water.
    "Better?" she asked after a moment.
    "Yeah, thanks," Langly replied, his voice barely
above a whisper.  "Why does my throat hurt so much?"
    "You're dehydrated, and I assume because you kept 
talking to Byers the last couple of days," she responded.
"You're also on antibiotics;  you have a fever, but
not too high."
    He nodded, grateful for her steady presence.  He
looked back to Frohike.  "Where's John?"
    "He's in the ICU right now.  He hasn't regained
consciousness yet," he answered quietly.  "It's just
down the hall;  we're keeping you guys close together."
    "Okay," Langly muttered sleepily.  "How long have
we been here?"
    "Only a few hours.  Mulder got a phone call this 
afternoon telling us where you guys were; they couldn't
trace the call."
    Langly suddenly remembered the Russian doctor's
words.  "They...the people who took us...she said to
get a sample of Byers' blood..." he tried to explain.
    "Hold on, take it easy.  What did she say?  What
did they do to you guys?" Scully calmed him.
    "Russian doctors; she said they were part of the
Project, the one working with the black oil.  They
infected John with it," he said.  Scully looked shocked,
so he continued.  "No, they said he would be okay...that's
what they wanted to show Mulder.  They found a way
to fight the infection.  It's in Byers' blood."
    Scully placed her hand on Langly's shoulder, settling
him down.  "Okay," she said.  "I'll go down there and
check it out.  I'll let you guys know what we find."
    "Thanks, Scully," Langly replied, finally relaxing.
    Scully squeezed his shoulder before turning and 
leaving the room.


DAY 5
ICU
1:52am

    Awareness crept over Byers slowly.  He could hear
the steady rhythm of a heart monitor, the dull pinch of
an IV needle in his arm, the chilly, metallic scent of
a hospital.  
    It was the warm feeling of someone squeezing his
hand that caught his attention and made him open his
eyes.
    "Byers?  Can you hear me?"  
    He focused on the sound and found himself looking
into the soft blue eyes of Dana Scully.
    "Hey, Scully," he whispered, trying to squeeze her
hand back.
    She smiled at him, relief washing over her features.
"Hi, John.  Do you know where you are?"
    "Hospital," he rasped.
    "Right," she said, using her free hand to brush the
fringe of hair from his forehead.  She turned to 
call over her shoulder to get the nurse's attention.
    The nurse came over, taking Scully's place at his
side and checking his vital signs.  
    He looked back to Scully.  She patted his blanketed
leg, saying "I'll be right back;  I'm sure the guys will 
be glad to know you're awake."
    "Is Langly okay?" he asked suddenly.
    "For the most part.  He's in a private room down 
the hall."
    He nodded and turned back to the nurse, doing his 
best to answer her standard questions.


Langly's room

    Scully entered the room quietly, seeing that Langly
was asleep.  He had been drifting in and out most of
the night.
    Frohike looked up expectantly as she approached.
    "Byers is awake," she announced softly.
    The older Gunman jumped to his feet.  "Is he okay?
How is he?"
    Scully smiled at his exuberance.  "He seems okay;
he was talking and knows what's happening."
    Frohike grinned, then looked down at his sleeping
friend.  "Should I wake him?" 
    "I'm sure he won't mind."
    Shaking Langly's shoulder gently, Frohike woke the
younger man.  
    "Hmmmm...what?  What's wrong?" Langly mumbled,
barely opening his eyes.
    "John's awake, and Scully says he's doing okay,"
the older man explained.  "We're going to go check on
him for a while."
    Langly gave him a weak smile and nodded sleepily.
"Tell him I said 'hi'," he sighed. 
    "Will do."


2:32am

    After saying goodnight to Byers, Scully walked 
back to Langly's room to do the same with the other
two Gunmen.
    When she entered the room however, she discovered
she was a little late.  Langly was curled up on his left
side facing the far wall and the other unoccupied bed.
Well, the *officially* unoccupied bed;  Frohike had 
balled himself up on that bed, also facing the wall.
    Scully strolled over between the beds to check
on Langly.  After making sure his IV line was not
tangled, she took a moment to pull his covers up a 
little higher onto his shoulder.  
    "Night, boys," she whispered, and headed for the
door.
    Behind her, Langly smiled in his sleep.


ICU
11:15am

    "Mulder handed a sample of your blood over to the
lab down at headquarters," Scully explained to Byers.
"They found traces of unidentifiable chemicals;  it
may take months before we have any idea what was
used to fight the black oil."
    Byers nodded, not really sure what to think about 
what had been done to him.
    Mulder had dropped by earlier that morning, 
triumphantly tossing a case file on Byers' lap.  The
Gunman looked at it; it was an X-file, with his name
typed neatly across the front.  The agent had joked
that he was going to file it under G for Guinea pig.
    "Langly said the doctors told him you would be all
right in a few days, and it looks like they were right.
Any traces of the chemicals are rapidly dissipating;
your system will be clean by tonight at the latest."
    "How long do I have to stay in here?" Byers asked,
fidgeting anxiously from where he was sitting up
against the raised bed.
    "You should be okay to transfer to the other room
by this afternoon;  your health is surprisingly good,
considering.  Whatever they gave you to fight the 
black oil strengthened your immune system.  Langly's
actually in worse shape than you at the moment.  You 
still need IV fluids and antibiotics, but the unit of 
insulin they gave you last night raised your blood 
sugar to near normal levels.  Assuming you keep 
recovering at this rate, you should be out of here in 
no time."
    Byers grinned at her gratefully.  "Thanks, Scully."


Langly's room
6:47pm

    "You sure you don't want anything?" Frohike persisted.
    "Yeah, you need to eat something," Byers added from
the bed next to his new roommate, Langly.
    "I'm sure," Langly sighed, tired of arguing with the
other two.  He did not feel like explaining to the other
two that he was nauseous, because they would just worry
over him more.  He was sure it was just a side effect
of the antibiotics messing with his system.  He emptied
his water glass and set it aside.  
    Frohike moved to pour more water into the glass, but
Langly stopped him.  "It's okay, I'm fine."
    "You should drink more water;  your fever is still at
100.  It'll make you feel better."
    "I feel fine," the blond man insisted.  He rolled onto
his side facing away from the others and did his best
to ignore the pain in his head and stomach.


DAY 6
3:22am

    Byers was startled awake by a loud thump nearby.  
Blinking to adjust to the dim light, he looked over at
Langly, still curled up on his side facing away from
him.
    "Shit," he cried out, seeing his friend shaking 
violently.  "Frohike, wake up," he called to the other
sleeping figure in the room, who had taken to an
empty chair.
    Frohike jumped at the startled cry, immediately
focusing on Langly.  "Oh, damn," he muttered, running
over to the younger man.  He grabbed Langly's tensed,
flailing arms and held him down tight, having to use
much of his own body weight to still the much stronger
man.  "Byers, hit the call button," he said absently, not
bothering to look behind him.  He was focused on the
convulsing figure in his hands, who was whimpering 
softly and fighting him.
    Byers had already done that, because within seconds
a nurse arrived to help.  
    Frohike held onto his friend, keeping him from tearing
the IV needle from his arm and hurting himself further.
The nurse quickly assessed the situation, and pulled a 
vial and syringe from a nearby cabinet.  She injected
an amount into the IV shunt.
    Frohike felt Langly's body relaxing after a moment,
going limp in his arms.  The older man relaxed his own
grip, reaching up to feel Langly's forehead;  he was 
burning up, his breath coming in short, harsh gasps.


9:15am

    Scully and Mulder entered the room occupied by 
the Gunmen.  Scully noticed the worried, haggard 
looks on both Byers and Frohike.  She saw that Frohike 
was sitting next to Langly's bed, once again running a 
damp cloth over the younger man's forehead.  
    "Morning, guys," Scully greets them, moving to
stand on the opposite side of Langly's bed.  "What's
going on?" she asked, concerned at the sickly pale
appearance on the previously improving blond man.
    Frohike glanced up at her, but Byers answered.
"His fever spiked early this morning and he had a 
mild seizure," he explains quietly.
    "God," Scully responded, exchanging a stunned
look with her partner.  "How's he doing?" she asked
as she reached over to pick up Langly's chart to 
check the markings made that morning.
    "Better," Frohike answered; Scully guessed that
he had not gone back to sleep after the scare.
"They've gotten his temp back down to 100, but
he hasn't woken up yet."
    Byers ran his right hand through his hair in
frustration.  "This shouldn't have happened;  he
had a concussion, and neither of us remembered
to mention that to the doctors.  He was given morphine
to help him sleep yesterday," he told the agents, 
knowing they were aware of what that meant.  No
one with an untreated head injury is supposed to 
be given medication that puts them to sleep.
    "John, it's no one's fault," Scully assured him.
"It happened days ago;  you guys went through a lot,
and it's easy to forget things like that."
    Byers looked at the sleeping Langly and nodded
slightly, his expression unchanged.
    Scully decided a diversion was in order.  "So,
Byers.  What did the doctor say about you getting
out of here?"
    He looked at her, surprised at the change of subject.
"Oh...um, he said they'll take me off the IV around
noon;  assuming nothing goes wrong, I should be able
to check out of here by around six tonight."
    "That's great!" Scully exclaimed, reaching over to
grasp his hand.  He smiled at the gesture.
    "Don't I get a say in who comes and goes around 
here?" a quiet voice cut in suddenly.  They all turned
to see Langly smiling shakily across to Byers.
    Byers laughed softly, relieved to see his friend
awake.  "Not if it means having to deal with you, you
don't," he answered.  
    Langly grinned at him, then looked back up at the
ceiling.  "Christ, I feel like shit," he informed them,
raising a hand to rub over his face wearily.
    "That's not surprising," Frohike said, setting the
cloth onto the table.  "You remember what happened
last night?"
    The younger man squinted at him and shook his 
head.
    "You scared the shit out of both of us;  your fever
went up and you had a seizure.  I've got the bruises
to prove it," he added.
    "Shit," Langly mumbled.  "Sorry about that."
    "Just don't do that to us again, got it?"
    Langly looked at the four people focusing on him
and suddenly felt very self-conscious.  "Okay, okay,
I won't.  Jeez."


8:40pm

    Langly glanced up from his conversation with Scully
to see Byers walk into the familiar room.  "Couldn't stay 
away, could ya?" the younger man teased.  Byers had
been checked out two hours before, and had gone home
to shower and get into his own choice of clothes.  He had 
been less than pleased when Frohike had brought him a 
pair of jeans and a sweatshirt to wear home.  Both 
belonging to Langly.  Frohike told him that he didn't feel
like trying figure out Byers' clothing system; this way 
was just easier.
    Byers grinned at him, holding a paper cup out as an
offering.  "I bring the gift of hot liquid."
    The other man chuckled and took the cup.  "Byers, I 
would kiss you if Scully weren't here."
    "Don't let me stop you," Scully laughed, amused at the
image her mind produced.  "That better not be coffee,
Byers;  the caffeine is too strong a stimulant for his
system."
    Byers removed the lid from his own cup as he took
the vacant chair next to the bed.  "Don't worry, Scully.
It's decaf, with plenty of cream and sugar.  I even made
sure to clear it with the doctor," he said pointedly.  He 
turned back to Langly.  "How are you feeling?"
    "A lot better.  Temp's down to 99.5," he added, almost
proudly.  "Should be able to get out of here by tomorrow
sometime."
    Byers grinned.  "Great;  I was getting worried that I'd
have to start arguing with Frohike, just to make the place
feel normal until you got back."
    Scully sighed.  "All right.  I'll leave you guys with your
coffee;  you've earned it.  See you tomorrow, Langly," she
said as she opened the door.
    "Okay, later, Scully," he replied, then turned back to 
his precious coffee.  "You have no idea how much I've
been wanting coffee," he told Byers,  taking a cautious
sip.
    "I think I have a fair idea.  Back in...wherever we were,
I could hear you talking sometimes.  It was weird;  I wasn't
really awake because I couldn't move, or talk...but every 
once in a while I heard you talking to me.  Most of the time
you were either complaining that Mulder was taking his 
sweet time getting there, or you were saying how much you
wanted coffee."
    Langly chuckled at the memory.  "I didn't know you heard
me...good thing they brought you in after I'd run out of 
songs."
    "Thank god for small miracles," Byers replied.  After a
moment of companionable silence, he spoke in a softer
tone.  "Thank you for what you did;  I know I wouldn't 
have made it out of there without your help."
    Langly dropped his eyes to his legs, his knees pulled
up in front of him.  "Anytime, John.  Just promise me
one thing..."
    "What's that?"
    "Never, ever crash my car again."

**************
End.
**************