Title:  Stay With Me
by Surreal
Feedback makes up for having to do homework between my 
stories:  surreal666@hotmail.com
Rating:  PG-13 for language, violence and imagery.
Category:  Langly/Byers slash, angst, comfort
Disclaimer:  Not mine.
Summery:  Langly has to choose between love and trust, and
makes the wrong choice.


***************

//i don't remember how i got here...just running down the cold,
suffocating halls in a panic, don't know why...
end of the hall; a waiting room...the emergency room, i see him,
i see mulder and he's just sitting there with his head down, in 
his hands.  'mulder...' i hear my voice call to him.  his head up,
eyes on me, i see the blood on his hands, his clothes.  realization...
memory;  mulder called, told me something went wrong, it was a
set-up, a gun...Langly--
//oh god....'mulder--' i start, any further words choked off at
the look of dispair, anguish, anger in his face.  
behind me, a doctor...he looks at mulder, ignores me.  mulder 
stands, we both face the doctor.  he--'i'm very sorry...we did
all we could but there was too much damage, too much blood
loss to save him...'
//i can't breath...can't think, but somehow, i have to know...
have to see--'i need to see him...'
'i wouldn't advise that at the moment, sir--the nurse is cleaning
up--'
'NO...have to see him, please!!!'
an exchange of looks between the other two and i'm being led
down the hall, to a room...so quiet, i can smell the blood, smell
death as i walk in and see him...
i don't know how, can't believe i could do this but i walk up to 
his body...not moving.  the nurse glances at the doctor and they
both leave...leave me alone with him.
red streaks on the floor, still dripping down from the table...
useless, soaked dressings covering his bare chest, hiding the
real damage.  
i see his face...my heart stops, i know it does but i still stay...
can't look away, can't run, can't join him.  tubes stuck down
his throat, useless now.  right side of his head is still wet with
blood, from another hole in his temple...soaking his beautiful 
blonde hair the ugliest shade of pink.  
i reach up, stroke the soft hair on the left side as i look down
at his eyes, thankfully closed, for the last time.
i was too late...too late to hold his hand, to tell him i love him
tell him everything will be all right if he just stays with me...
i was too late and now he's gone...Ringo left me.//


    Byers wakes up with a strangled cry, sitting up with a harsh
gasp to get his bearings.  
    Langly hears him, startled by the screech and jumps to his 
feet, running to where Byers had fallen asleep on the couch
earlier.  The older man had been feeling ill all day, so when
Langly suggested that he change into his pajamas, take a dose
of Nyquil and lay down, he had given in easily.  
    Now, trembling with the after images of his nightmare, Byers
hardly notices the other man until Langly is kneeling on the
floor next to him, trying to get him to focus.
    "John?  You okay?"  Langly asks him, putting his hand on his
friend's arm.  
    Byers stares at him, unfocused and uncomprehending.  Langly
moves up, sits on the couch in front of his lover and brings his 
hand up, cupping Byers' chin and forcing him to look at him.  
"John, honey...please say something."
    The older man looks at him, awareness flickering in his eyes
finally, followed quickly by tears.  He reaches up, his hand 
trembling, and touches Langly's cheek as if to make sure he 
is real.  "Oh, Ree..." he whispers as he wraps his arms around
the younger man desperately and buries his face in his shoulder.
    Langly puts his arms around his lover, holding him tight and 
stroking his hair, mumbling little reassurances and willing the 
bad dreams away.  "Shh...it's okay, just a dream..."
    Byers shakes his head against Langly's chest, sniffing loudly.
"No...no...please don't go, please don't leave me..." he mutters
over and over.
    "I'm right here, John.  I'm not going anywhere, I'm here..."
    Again, the older man shakes his head, pulling back a bit to 
look at his face.  "No...I mean tomorrow...don't go with Mulder, 
don't do it, something bad's going to happen..."
    "Johnny--what?  Is that what you dreamed about?  Sweetie, 
it was just a dream;  I can't back out on Mulder, he said I'm the
only one who can help him with this contact of his..."
    Byers shakes his head again, frustrated, and lays his head 
back onto Langly's shoulder.  The terrified rush of adrenaline
from his nightmare is quickly wearing off, combined with
the effects of the cold medication.  He continues to fight sleep,
struggling to make his argument.  "No...please, don't go..." he
slurs, hugging his lover weakly.  "don't leave me..."
    Langly just strokes his hair, reassuring him.  "It's okay, John...
I'll talk to Mulder in the morning;  don't worry, I won't leave you."
    The younger man's thoughts wonder as he holds Byers, rocking
him gently as he thought of how he could explain to Mulder that 
he couldn't help him in the morning because Byers had a bad
dream.  
    After a while he realizes that Byers has fallen asleep again, 
leaning against him.  
    With a sigh, he shifts, sliding his right arm under Byers' left
one and around his back.  He carefully slides off the couch, putting
his left arm under Byers' knees and gently lifting him as he stands.
He struggles for a moment with his awkward grip, then walks 
down the hall to his room.
    He pushes the door open with his foot and strides across the 
room to the bed.  With another awkward shift, he gently lays Byers
down on his back on top of the bed, not wanting to bother with the
covers.  He glances around, finds an extra blanket crumpled at the
end of the bed and covers Byers with it.  
    Langly sits down on the edge of the bed, noting the red flush in
Byers' cheeks.  He reaches down, touching his fingers to the older
man's forehead, then cheek.  "Oh, John...you're burning up..." he 
whispers to himself.
    He leaves, gathering a cloth, a bowl of cool water, and a
thermometer from the bathroom.  He comes back, sitting on the 
edge of the bed again, setting the bowl on the nightstand and 
putting the cloth in it.  
    "Come on, honey," he says quietly as he slips his arms around
Byers and turns him onto his side.  Byers gives him a tiny moan
but makes no sign of waking.  Langly presses the damp cloth to
the back of his friend's neck, cooling the flushed skin. With 
his other hand, he picks up the thermometer, carefully putting
the sensor in the older man's ear for several seconds.  A few
minutes later, he checks the tiny display--103 degrees.  
    A little over an hour later, Byers starts mumbling incoherently
again, turning his head away from Langly and rolling onto his
back.  "S'too hot..." his works clear for a moment as he kicks
at the blanket, pushing it away.
    "Shhh--don't do that,"  Langly holds him still, covering him
with the blanket again to keep the older man from getting a 
chill and making himself more sick.  He wets the cloth,
running it over Byers face for a few minutes before turning
him onto his side again to press it onto his neck.
    Byers is quiet for almost another hour before he starts
coughing.  
    The younger man sighs, worried about the dry, harsh sound
of the cough and gets a small cup of water from the kitchen.
He rolls Byers onto his back again, shaking him into a semi-
conscious state.  "Come on, Johnny.  You need some water,"
he says softly, putting his hand under Byers' head and tilting
the cup to his lips.  Byers takes a sip and coughs for a second,
then takes another drink.  Satisfied that he got some water
into him, Langly sets the cup aside and goes back to stroking
his warm skin with the cloth.
    By four in the morning Byers is thrashing, on his side with
his hand clutching at Langly's leg.  "Don' go...plea--do'leave
me..."  he gasps between coughs and feverish sobs.
    Langly can only rub his back gently and murmur soft 
reassurances, kissing his forehead lightly every once in a 
while in hopes of calming him by making sure he knows that
he's not alone.
    The next time the younger man glances at the clock, it's 
around six-thirty.  Byers has been quiet for a while, and 
Langly is fairly sure that the fever is down.  He takes his
temperature again, smiling a bit when he gets 101.6.  


8:42am

    "Mulder, listen to me.  I'm sorry, but I can't do it--"
    "Come on, I need you on this, Langly.  I don't know anything 
about computers..."
    "I know," Langly sighs, shifting the phone to the other ear
and forcing himself to keep his voice down, not wanting to wake
Byers.  "Look, can't you get someone from the bureau?  There are
a lot of good tech guys there."
    "Not at good at you, and none I trust as much as you."
    Ouch.  He's going for the trust tactic.  "Mulder, please...Byers
is really sick, I've got to stay with him;  he needs me."
    "He's a big boy, he can take care of himself for a few minutes..."
Mulder whines.
    "Mulder, I'm telling you--he's really sick and he's running a high
fever.  He was pretty messed up last night;  he was convinced that 
if I go with you something bad would happen.  I promised him I 
wouldn't go..."
    "Is he awake?"
    "No," Langly answers cautiously.
    "Good.  This won't take more than ten minutes, I swear.  In and 
out, we get the disks and you get back before Byers knows you 
were gone."
    "Mulder, I can't do that."  Time to bring out his own big guns.  
"Unlike you, when I promise a friend I'll stay, I do it.  He trusts
me."
    "And I trusted you to help me with this, Langly."  Mulder tells 
him in that wounded, mumbled tone he uses to get his way.
    Langly sighs, his stomach in knots.  "Mulder--"
    "Please, Langly.  I need you to do this.  I'll come pick you up
in a few."

    Langly is waiting by the door when Mulder arrives, and quickly 
locks the door and strides out to meet him with his laptop slung 
over his shoulder.  Mulder looks at him curiously as he slides
into the passenger seat.  "Thanks Langly, I really appreciate this.  
How's Byers?" 
    "Still asleep.  Let's go, you can fill me in on the way.  I don't 
want to be away any longer than necessary." 
    Mulder looks at him in puzzlement.  He is beginning to realize 
that there is more going on here than meets the eye, but this  is 
neither the time or the place to pursue it.  He begins to explain 
the situation to Langly, and Langly nods absently, staring out of 
the window, his fingers nervously beating an irregular tattoo 
on his knee.  Mulder looks sideways at him.  "Relax, Langly, 
it'll be okay.  I'll look after you." 
    Langly snaps around to look at him angrily.  "You have no 
idea, Mulder..."  he starts, then bites his lip.  "Just drive, okay?"
    

    In his blurry, half-awakened state, Byers thought he heard the
outside door locks being fumbled with and then the solid thump of
it closing...but he was sure it was just his imagination.

    Ten minutes later, he sits upright in alarm.  "No..."  
    There was a small note on the night stand, next to the bowl of
water.  

    *Johnny--I'm sorry, I had to go.  Mulder needs my help.  If you
      wake up before I get home, please stay in bed.  I'm worried 
      about you.  
      I love you--Ringo*
      
    Byers closes his eyes, the hand holding the note trembling slightly.
He knows with a gut-wrenching certainty that he needs to find Langly,
needs to keep him safe.  
    He stumbles to his feet, realizes he is in Langly's room and curses
softly.  He doesn't know how much time he has, so he quickly changes
into one of Langly's t-shirts and a pair of jeans from the floor.  
    He snags the set of van keys off the desk, knowing that Langly had
ridden with Mulder to the meeting with the contact.


9:15am
Outskirts of DC, inside abandoned warehouse

    The moment the "contact" pulls the gun from his pocket, Langly 
knows he should have listened to Byers.

    On the way to the meeting place Mulder had explained to Langly
that the contact was a former software engineer that had been in
the custody of the shadow government for several years.  He had
broken away only a few days before, and contacted Mulder, who
he knew was always in the view of the Consortium.
    In his escape, the contact had taken several disks of downloaded
material with him.  That was why Mulder needed Langly;  to 
bring a laptop and inspect the disks for authenticity.  
    Now, Langly slips the first disk into his computer, set up on a
wobbly table.  As he scans the contents, he frowns to himself.  
'There's nothing here that we couldn't get ourselves,' he thinks.
He glances at Mulder, who in turn glances at the contact 
suspiciously.  The contact, already extremely nervous and
jumpy, takes a step back and shakes his head.  "No...there has to
be something useful there!  They're looking for me, they're gonna
kill me when they find me..." he stammers, eyes darting around.
    "Take it easy, there's no one else here,"  Mulder tries to calm
him down.
    The guy just stares at him, disbelieving.  Suddenly, a loud noise
from somewhere deep in the building startles all of them.  The contact
jumps at the sound and whips his arm around, pulling a gun from the
inside pocket of his jacket.
    Mulder's first reaction is to reach for his own gun, but when he
sees the guy grab Langly around the neck with his arm and put the
gun to the blonde man's head, the agent stops moving.
    "God damn it!!" the guy screams, nearly hysterical.  "I told you
no Feds!!"
    "I told you we were here alone, there's no one else here, I 
promise,"  Mulder assures him, uncertain.  "Let him go, no one
is going to hurt you, we just need to talk--"
    "NO!!"  he yells, his grip on Langly tightening.  "I can't trust
anyone, I thought I could trust you...fuck!!!  You--move over there,"
he waves the gun toward the far side of the room, away from them.
"You look out there, tell the Feds to back off or I kill this guy, I'll
fucking blow his head off, I swear to God!!"
    Mulder backs away slowly, trying to think of how to respond.
    "No!!" A cry from the other side of the room startles them all.
Langly, already terrified, feels his heart leap up into his throat
when he realizes the yell came from Byers, rushing towards them.
    Everything is happening so fast, it takes Langly a moment to 
realize that the contact had seen Byers and swung around, firing
a shot as he lets go of Langly.  Langly watches in shock as Byers 
falls to the ground.
    Mulder uses the momentary distraction to reach for his own
gun, firing two rounds at the man, but shoots wide because 
Langly is still right there.  The guy staggers for a moment,
drops his gun and runs.  
    "John!!"  Langly finds his voice and his footing at the same time,
running to where Byers lay crumpled on the cement.  Byers struggles
to sit up, his arms not cooperating to support him.  "Ree..."
    "Oh, god--John, don't move, it's okay,"  Langly says quickly,
kneeling next to his friend and putting his legs under his back to
hold him.  Byers gasps, leaning back into Langly's lap.  He wraps 
his right arm around his lover's waist, trying to pull himself up.
"No--John, please don't move," Langly holds him tight, too scared
to know what else to do or say.
    "Ree...it's okay;  it's not bad...my leg..."  Byers manages to gasp
out, his attempt to calm Langly being ruined by the quiver in his 
voice.  
    Langly finally looks over Byers' body, searching for where
the shot hit him.  He sees a large patch of red soaking through (his?)
jeans on Byers' left leg just above the knee.
    "Langly, Byers!  You guys okay?"  Mulder runs over to them after
giving up on the chase.  The contact had been closer to the exit, and 
Mulder was on the other side of the room, with no hope of catching
him.  He kneels next to them, on Byers' other side.  "Shit..."  he 
hisses when he sees the bleeding wound in Byers' leg.  He reaches 
down instinctively to inspect the damage.
    Langly pushes his hand away, growling, "Don't touch him."  
    Mulder looks at him, stunned for a moment before protesting.  
"Langly, I've had first aid training," he says defensively, confused 
by Langly's possessiveness.
    "Guys," Byers gets their attention with the soft, mumbled word.  
"I'm sure you're both more than qualified to help me, but I think I'd 
be better off in a hospital?"  
    The younger man looks at him, nodding.  "Right...yeah," he says
absently.  
    Byers starts to sit up again.  "Help me up," he asks, reaching a 
hand out.  
    Langly shakes his head, holding Byers close.  "Don't...you can't 
walk like this.  Here," he says, pulling Byers' right arm up and 
guiding it to wrap around his shoulders.  
    Mulder watches, confused and fascinated, as Langly puts his 
other arm under Byers' legs, preparing to lift him from the ground.  
He has never seen these guys act so protective of each other as 
they are right now.  
    Byers makes a weak attempt at a protest even as Langly climbs 
to his feet with the older man draped in his arms.  "Ree--I'm okay, 
you can't carry me..." he says softly, a faint blush staining his 
cheeks.
    "Sure I can," Langly argues, walking in the direction that Byers 
had come from, assuming Byers had driven the van.  "How do you 
think I got you into bed last night after you fell asleep on me?"  
he says with a faint smirk, calmer now that he knows Byers is not 
seriously injured.  He also doesn't notice that Mulder is within 
earshot of this statement, and misses the perplexed expression 
on the agent's face at the remark.
    As they approach the van, Mulder quickly runs past them to open
the side door.  Langly stops at the side, letting Byers awkwardly
crawl into the seat, his head on the driver's side so he can inspect
his left leg.  
    Langly jumps in after him, kneeling between the seats.  "Just sit
tight, John,"  he tells his friend softly, seeing the scared look on 
Byers' face.  
    Mulder, feeling like an outsider in something he doesn't understand,
climbs into the back of the van to find something to help.  He finds an
emergency blanket first, handing over the seat to Langly.
    The younger man takes it silently, placing it, still folded, onto the
end of the seat behind Byers.  He gently pushes Byers back to rest 
his head on the blanket.  "Lay back, baby," he tells him quietly,
again missing the curious glance from Mulder.  
    "Ree,"  Byers says, but doesn't continue.  Langly sees him look up
at the ceiling and close his eyes tight, biting his lip.  The younger 
man takes his hand, squeezing it tightly.  
    "Here," Mulder says, offering Langly a clean cloth he'd found 
in the back.  "Tie this around his leg, tight," he instructs, crawling
back out of the van to stand outside the door.
    Langly does what he's told, wincing sympathetically as he has to
put pressure on the painful wound and causing Byers to whimper.
"Sorry..."  The younger man looks up at Byers again, gripping his
hand.  The injured man shuts his eyes tight, a tear of pain streaming
down the side of his face.  Langly reaches up, brushing the wet
streak away with his fingers.  He turns back to Mulder, as helpless 
as the agent had ever seen him.
    In his head, Mulder hears Langly's earlier words;  'He needs me.'
He nods.  "Stay back here with him;  I'll drive.  You got the keys?"
    The younger man looks at him, surprised and grateful.  He reaches
down to check his pocket, then remembers.  "No--John does," he 
says, leaning over to reach into Byers' pocket and retrieving the
keys.  "What about your car?" he asks as he hands the set to Mulder.
    "I'll come back for it later," he says, stepping back to slide the 
door closed.
    As the agent runs around and jumps into the driver's seat, Langly
reaches up and strokes Byers' face gently, feeling the unusually
warm skin under his fingers.  The fever is back, and the additional
shock to the older man's system is not helping things.  "You're okay,
Johnny," he whispers.  
    Byers nods slightly, pressing against Langly's hand.  "Yeah."
    Langly smiles at him as Mulder starts the engine and pulling away
from the building.
    The ride is painfully long, and the only sounds are the reassuring
mutterings from Langly.  
    As they get closer to the hospital, Mulder glances back while stopped
at a light.  "I'll drive up to the ER drop-off entrance," he tells them,
not sure if either of them heard.  By now Byers is very pale, his hands
trembling in mild shock.  Langly clings to his hand, touching his face
almost constantly.  Mulder turns back to the road, seeing the hospital
turn-off straight ahead.  
    After lurching to a stop, Mulder glances back again.  "I'll get help,"
he tells them, jumping out of the van and running inside.
    "John?  Hey, buddy--we're here, Mulder's getting someone," Langly
tells the barely conscious Byers.  The older man nods a little, but doesn't
open his eyes.
    A few minutes later two paramedics and an emergency room nurse
run out to the van with a gurney.  Langly turns back to his friend.  
"Come on, Johnny, time to move," he tells him, sliding his arm under
Byers' back to lift his upper body.  Byers moans softly in pained
protest, gasping.  One of the paramedics helps him, taking Byers'
legs carefully and together they maneuver the injured man onto the
gurney.
    Langly follows them into the hospital while Mulder moves the van.


1045am

    Mulder comes back to find Langly pacing the large waiting room
anxiously, chewing on the ragged ends of his hair absently.  'That's
how it gets that way,' Mulder muses to himself as he catches the 
younger man's eye.  The agent sits in an empty chair and watches
his friend pace in silence.
    After almost half an hour a nurse finally approaches them, glancing
between the two, not knowing who to talk to.  "You two brought in Mr.
Byers?"
    Langly jumps, darting to stand in front of her.  "Yeah--how is he?  Is
he okay?"  he asks rapidly, a bundle of worried nerves.
    The nurse looks at the chart in her hands.  "Yes, he's all right.  The 
bullet went clean through the side of his leg, not doing any serious 
damage.  We stitched the entry and exit wounds and he's resting in
recovery now.  I just need to get some information from one of you.
Do you have the number for his next-of-kin?"
    The younger man clears his throat nervously.  "Um...I guess that's
me;  I'm his, uh...partner..." 
    "Okay, then I need to talk to you.  The injury itself is not serious
enough for him to need to stay, but the fact that he came in with a 
high fever, his body already weakened, means he'll need to
stay at least twenty-four hours for observation.  He'll be moved to
a short-term care area shortly, and I'll let you know when you can 
see him."  She smiles at the both of them before walking away.
    Langly sighs as he slumps into a chair, partly relieved but still
wanting to see his lover.
    Mulder sits next to him, touching his arm lightly.  "Langly...
partners?"
    Langly looks up at him and meets his eyes defiantly.  "Yeah.
Partners."
    The agent is the first to look away, blushing in embarrassment.
"I'm sorry;  I didn't know."  He grins suddenly, looking at Langly
again.  "I'm supposed to be this great psychological profiler and 
I never saw *that* one coming..."
    Langly smiles at him, relaxing a bit but still on guard.  "No one
else knows, only Mel and Scully.  It's safer the fewer people know,
and we want to keep it that way."
    "Sure.  Don't worry, Langly.  No one will hear about it from me." 
After a silent moment he continues.  "Um...how long have you guys
been...uh--"
    "Screwing?"  Langly offers, smirking at Mulder's blush.
    "Uh--"
    "Mulder, it's okay, I'm just giving you a hard time,"  he smiles.
"We've been together for almost two years."
    The agent's eyes widen.  "Years?  Jesus...talk about not paying 
attention..."
    "Don't worry about it;  we've kept it very private whenever
you guys are around, so there's no way you could have known."
Langly actually smiles, eyes drifting in thought.  He feels better
knowing that he doesn't have to hide the relationship from Mulder
anymore, enjoying being able to talk to his friend openly.
    Mulder shakes his head.  "You shouldn't have to hide anything
from me;  I'm your guys' friend, and I care about what happens
to you.  You can trust me."
    Langly looks at him gratefully.  "Thank you, that means a lot."


11:22am

    When the nurse comes back a while later, they both stand.
"We've moved him to short-term care.  He's in and out right now, 
but I think he'd like to see you," she smiles at Langly.
    "Thank you,"  Langly tells her, taking a step to follow but then
he remembers Mulder.  "Mulder--"
    "Go ahead;  I'm gonna call Scully and go get my car.  I'll 
come back later to see him."
    "Oh, okay.  Um...thanks for this..."
    "Don't.  This was my fault, I shouldn't have forced you to
come, this shouldn't have happened..."  He stops there, waving
his hand dismissively.  "Just...um, tell him I'll talk to you guys 
later."

    
    "Hey, Johnny,"  Langly says to the sleeping figure as he 
sits in the only chair next to Byers' bedside.  The curtained-off
area didn't offer much privacy, but luckily he is the only person
in the section at the moment.  
    The younger man reaches up to gently stroke the sweat-
dampened hair from Byers' forehead.  He feels the hot skin
under his fingers, the shallow breaths against his arm.  Looking
over the other man's body, pangs of guilt hit him as he notes 
the IV stuck in the left arm, the barely perceptible rise and 
fall of the chest, the outline of the layers of bandages wrapped
tightly around Byers' left thigh under the thin blanket.  
    Langly's guilt, acknowledging the fact that he had made a 
promise to his lover not to leave him, and he broke that promise.
He had walked straight into a dangerous situation despite his 
best friend's warning and now he has to watch as Byers lay
fitfully, feverishly, in a drug-induced sleep in the hospital 
because of him.
    He picks up Byers' right hand, wrapping his fingers around
the limp, warm fingers and lays their intertwined hands onto
the sleeping man's chest.  He leans forward, laying his head
against his lover's side and listening to the soft breathing and
steady heartbeat, letting the rhythm lull him to sleep.

    
3:26pm

    Langly is awakened by a hand resting on his shoulder.  He 
raises his head, turning to see who it was.  He blinked to 
clear his vision, and saw Mulder standing over him, with 
Scully at his side.
    "Oh--hey," he greets them quietly, glancing down to make
sure Byers is still sleeping.  "You guys been here long?"
    They shake their heads, eyes darting to the sleeping
figure questioningly.  Langly smiles, stroking Byers' hand
lightly with his fingers.  "It's okay;  between the pain meds
and whatever they're giving him for his cold, he's crashing
hard.  Hasn't moved a bit in a couple of hours."
    Scully nods, habitually picking up the chart at the end of
the bed.  Mulder moves closer to Langly, speaking softly.
"How is he?"
    "He's better;  his leg isn't too bad, but they're mostly 
keeping an eye on his fever.  It spiked back up over 103
when he got here."
    The agents exchange a patented look, a silent decision.
"You looked like you were out pretty hard, too," Scully 
informs him.  "You told Mulder he was sick since last night;
did you stay up all night taking care of him?"
    Langly nods wearily. 
    Scully puts her hand on Mulder's arm, tugging slightly.
"Go back to sleep,"  she tells Langly, touching his shoulder
with a soft, gentle hand.  "We'll come back later tonight
to check on you guys."
    The blonde man nods tiredly.  When the agents are gone,
he lays his head back down and falls asleep almost at once.


7:15pm

    A soft, absently rhythmic stroking of his hair wakes Langly
up this time and he opens his eyes.  
    Byers looks down at him, catching his eye and smiling 
weakly.  "Hey, you," he rasps quietly, untangling his fingers
from the mane of blonde hair he'd worked them into.
    Langly raises his head, alert now.  "Hey, yourself.  How
are you feeling?"  he asks even as he instinctively presses
his hand to Byers' forehead to check his temperature.
    "I'm fine,"  Byers replies absently, the patented response
he must have picked up from the agents.  He catches the
mild look of disapproval and sighs.  "Okay, I feel like hell."
    "Your leg?"  Langly asks, reaching below the bed to grab
a spare pillow.  He places it behind Byers' head, propping
him up a bit more.
    "Not really...whatever they've got me on is pretty strong,"
he answers, indicating the IV in his arm.  "It's mostly this
cold...just feel hot and tired."
    "Yeah.  Your little adventure this morning didn't help that,
either,"  Langly says without thinking, then winces when he
remembers who's fault that was.  "Johnny--I'm so sorry.  I
know I should have listened to you..."
    "Ree, it's not that you didn't believe me...that I can 
understand," he cuts in quietly, taking in a shaky breath as
his eyes drift down to the blanket.  "It's just...I asked you
not to leave, and you promised you wouldn't go..."
    Langly swallows hard, a lump forming in his throat as
he tries to think of how to respond.  "I know."  Anything
beyond that seems so pointless, so useless that he doesn't
feel the need to go on.  He simply stares at their clasped
hands, the tense silence between them tearing at his heart.
    Byers' left hand moves up to cup Langly's jaw, making
him look up.  "It's okay, Ree.  I still love you."
    The younger man smiles, his eyes stinging with sudden
moisture.  He leans forward to kiss his lover gently so 
he doesn't have to say anything.  
    After a moment he pulls back just a little, his eyes still
locked with the other man's.  Byers’ hand strokes his 
cheek lightly before sliding around to grasp the back of
his neck, pulling him in again for a deeper kiss.
    Langly breaks away first, long enough to whisper "I
love you too," before moving in to kiss him again.  His
hand moves restlessly, finally wrapping fingers around
Byers' waist.  Byers strokes his hand up Langly's arm.
    They are still locked like this when a soft sound gets
their attention--the quiet, yet forceful clearing of someone's
throat.  They both turn toward the foot of the bed, where 
Mulder and Scully stand with amused smiles on their faces.
    "Feeling better, I see?"  Scully asks lightly, glancing 
between the two men.
    Langly laughs softly.  Byers avoids the woman's gaze,
a shy, embarrassed and yet still proud smile on his lips.
He clears his own throat and answers.  "Uh...yeah, thanks."
    Scully just shakes her head.  "Just be nice to Langly
when he comes down with your cold, all right?"
    
******
End