TITLE: "Why Her - Why Not Me?" (1/2)
BY: Ten
E-MAIL ADDRESS: kristena@ocean.com.au

CATEGORY: V, A, MT, UST
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: A look at the abduction arc if Mulder had been
the one kidnapped by Barry.
TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING: "Duane Barry", "Ascension",
"One Breath", "Beyond the Sea" and "Erlenmeyer Flask".
Hints at Bill Mulder's Consortium involvement from the
mytharc of other seasons.

I haven't gone through scene by scene - maybe one day
when I feel like doing it as a novel... These were the
parts that called to me.

ARCHIVE INFO: It goes to Gossamer through xff. Can be
archived anywhere as long as my name, addy and disclaimer
stay intact.
FEEDBACK: Love it.
THANKS TO: Crash for reading this after it had been
sitting around on disk for ages and encouraging me to
finish it. And to Suzanne for answering some weird med
questions... Ainon, Debbie, Gerry and Mac too, for some
pertinent suggestions.

DISCLAIMER: The X-Files and the characters of Mulder and
Scully belong to Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions
and Fox Broadcasting, and are used without permission. No
copyright infringement is intended, no profit will be
gained.


The X-Files: "Why Her - Why Not Me?" (1/2)
By Ten, Started January 1997, finished January 1999


Scully's Office
Quantico

Scully studied the piece of metal in the vial. Duane
Barry's implant. "It won't take a moment to run it
through Ballistics - we'll know soon enough."

Mulder nodded and got up to leave.

Scully was surprised. "Aren't you coming?"

He hesitated and shrugged. "I guess." She could see that
he was still in a degree of shock from the hostage
situation, not to mention the revelations of the implants
and the impossible work done on Barry's teeth. "Okay," he
decided. His voice was much more subdued than she'd ever
heard it.

As they walked towards Ballistics, Mulder seemed to make
an effort to perk up. "Your car still making that funny
knocking sound?"

"It's at the mechanic's at the moment."

"How are you getting home? Did they lend you a car?"

"I'll get a taxi."

He shook his head. "I'll take you."

"Well, once we get this examined, I'll be ready to head
off, but I wanted to get some groceries and I can't
expect you to wait." She had a sudden desire for his
company though, to stay with him, and was relieved at his
next words.

"Not a problem. I need to restock too. That'll work out
well."




Ballistics had given some interesting results, but
nothing conclusive.

A common supermarket scanner however...

Mulder and Scully left the supermarket in silence and sat
in his car, absently dropping their groceries into the
back seat. They stared at each other then looked at the
vial Scully was holding. The vial that she had
impulsively run over the checkout scanner, making the
machine go berserk.

It took her a few attempts before she could speak. "This
thing...it was like it had a code - it brought up some
sort of serial number... Like someone was cataloguing
him! What the hell is it?"

Mulder just reached out and took the vial reverently,
holding it up for a second before putting it in the inner
pocket of his suit jacket. Then he started the car. They
travelled on in silence.

Soon Mulder pulled up in front of Scully's apartment. He
fingered the vial as he watched his partner grab her bag
of groceries. They still thought of each other as
partners, despite being separated and reassigned.

"Come in early tomorrow if you can," he said. "With this
evidence, there's no way they can stop us opening an X-
File on it. I think we're back, Scully."

She revelled in that long-suppressed grin. "I think so
too. See you bright and early. Thanks for the lift." She
hesitated, feeling worried. /Just the scanner freaking
you out./ Dana returned her focus back to her scientific
side - her mind pouring over the implications and
possibilities of the chip and of getting their jobs back.
She waved and left.

Mulder had to wait for a few passing cars. He glanced
across at the apartment. Scully was safely inside; her
light was now on. Then he glanced down, by chance
catching a gleam on the passenger seat as headlights
momentarily bathed the interior of his car.

Scully's cross. He picked it up. The catch had broken. He
went to turn the engine off so he could return it to her,
but stopped. /No, I'll fix it myself and give it back to
her tomorrow./ Reaffirmation of their faith - the links
complete again.

He drove home, though he was so wired he really felt like
getting out and running. /No, store the energy. Save it
for tomorrow. Just a few hours away./

He curbed his impatience by phoning Skinner on the way.
Their ex-boss was understandably grumpy about the hour
but was intrigued by the findings. Yes the implant did
sound unusual. He'd give Mulder - and Scully - an early
appointment tomorrow to present their report on the
matter. He was not going to go as far as labelling it an
X-File. /Potato. Potatoe./

Mulder was nearly home when he rang Scully.

"Guess what? Skinner's giving us a 9am hearing! I'll
write the report tonight - can you meet me at eight to go
over it and add else anything you want in? Or earlier?"

"YOU'LL write the report? My God, Mulder! If you were any
more buoyant you'd be bouncing off the moon! Okay, 7.30.
I'll type up some notes now too, and we'll merge them
then."

"Great." Mulder pulled up in his car space. "Sorry to
keep you up."

"I gave up on beauty sleep when I became your partner,
Mulder."


In her apartment, Scully found herself pacing as she held
the cordless phone. Mulder *had* woken her up - out of a
nightmare. In it she had been yelling for Mulder and he
wasn't answering and there was danger and a man had come
and taken...

She struggled to remember the details, then Mulder
started talking again and she made herself focus on him
to banish the fright.


He began getting out of the car, chuckling at her beauty
sleep joke, then remembered her cross. "Oh, by the way,
I've got your necklace. The catch broke when you were in
my car. I'll fix -"

He saw a shadow fall over him and whirled in time to
catch a glimpse of Duane Barry. And to inadvertently
expose his own forehead to a glancing blow that knocked
him back against the still-open car door.

"YOU'RE COMIN' WITH ME!"

"Mulder?" Scully yelled.

Dazed, Mulder slid to the ground, the phone tumbling
away. He could hear her frantic voice as he tried to
defend himself.

"MULDER!"

"Scully, it's Barry! It's -" The inmate's foot smashed
down on the phone. And something hard hit the side of
Mulder's head. Mulder was barely aware of his gun and
keys being taken, of his body being seized and dragged
around the car to the trunk. Being shoved in, roughly
tied. The ropes were tight. The trunk slammed down into
darkness. A few seconds later the car started and took
off fast. Mulder was jolted from one side to the other.

He was scared, yes. Absolutely. But Barry was going to
take him to the abduction site, possibly to the truth.
While he had Mulder he wouldn't kidnap or hurt any other
innocents. That was fine with his hostage. Mulder just
wished he'd had time to yell that to Scully. She'd be
frantic.

/thank god it's me thank god it wasn't her/




FBI Headquarters, Next morning:

Scully sat at Mulder's desk in the bullpen, just out of a
meeting with Skinner and the agents investigating
Mulder's kidnapping. Her ex-boss had told her to step
away, that she was too close, and ordered her home for
some rest.

Fat chance.

In the travel agency Barry had refused Mulder's offer to
go with him - *I wouldn't do that to you.* - as if they'd
formed a friendship. Why believe the words of a man whose
moral centre of the brain had been destroyed by a bullet?

The madman had taken Mulder for revenge, in retaliation
for putting him in the line of the FBI snipers. Barry
could have found her partner's address via several common
means...or had Mulder's enemies lead Duane Barry to him?
Or the chip... Had her reckless scanning of it given
Mulder's location to Barry?

Whoa! Now THAT was a Mulder-thought! She almost laughed
at the absurdity of the idea. But paranoid thoughts kept
popping up. It was like she was subconsciously
compensating for Mulder's absence by thinking from his
point of view, creating wild theories.

It was time to ground herself and focus.

Scully had to get inside Barry's mind. She put a cassette
of the hostage crisis into a tape recorder and hit play,
ready to absorb every word.




Skyland Mountain:

Mulder's car! Desperately she ran to it through the hazy
rain and darkness. The door hung open, radio still
blaring. Empty. Blood was smeared on the steering wheel.
/Don't let that be his.../ She popped the trunk button
and ran round. Empty. Apart from bloody ropes. And his
tie...

She picked up the tie.

Scully ran, searching ahead desperately with her eyes and
flashlight beam. A metallic glint was thrown up from the
wet grass.

Mulder's watch.

She grabbed it. And suddenly a bright flash of light came
from behind a nearby rise - then disappeared. Scully
crested the rise. Duane Barry lay on the ground. He was
alone.

Dana raced up to Barry and dropped to her knees beside
him. "Where's Mulder?" she demanded. Barry moaned,
clutching his gut. "Answer me!" she yelled, even as she
started examining his injuries.

"They took him... They took him..."

"Who?"

Barry looked up into the sky. "Them...!" he managed.

There was nothing there but stars. She turned her
attention back to his torso and saw bruising and swelling
on his abdomen and near the gunshot wound. Had Mulder
struggled against him at some point and aggravated his
injuries? She couldn't remember this from the medical
charts...

"Mulder?" she called, hoping that her partner had fled
into the trees to hide from Barry. She began palpating
Duane's abdomen.

"They hurt me," Barry said. "Duane Barry brought 'em what
they wanted and they hurt -" He gasped and gurgled, eyes
rolling back.




Mulder could not be found on Skyland Mountain or the
surrounding area.

Mulder's 'partner', Krycek, had vanished.

Senator Matherson could give her nothing. He insisted he
didn't know what had happened or who might know.

She had no idea who Mulder's new source was, after Deep
Throat, or how to contact him. Inquiries hit dead ends.

She wasn't allowed to do Duane Barry's autopsy. The
conclusion was that he had died of internal bleeding,
"most likely from the wounds sustained in the hostage
crisis at the travel agency, worsened by his prematurely
leaving medical care."

Skinner could not do anything, apart from contact
Mulder's parents.




Scully handed the watch to Mrs Mulder as they sat
together on the park bench, having kept the tie herself.
It seemed ridiculous to hand it over. And she needed it.
Something to hold onto. There was a trace of his smell:
his aftershave, sweat. No blood on it, fortunately,
otherwise she'd have had to wash it and then the smell
would be gone. She carried it with her in a pocket all
the time, even to work: so she could touch it or just
know it was there - constant, but out of sight. Not that
other people's wagging tongues really mattered. Finding
Mulder was all that mattered.

"I'll find him, Mrs Mulder, I promise you. I won't give
up."

Mrs Mulder had. Her voice was lifeless. "He never found
Samantha - how can you find him?"

Scully stared at her. "I am not giving up on him. I know
it's a shock and things look bleak, but someone knows
what happened to him."

"Children leave." It was as if Mrs Mulder was talking to
herself. "At least in your family I suppose they just
grew up and left home and came back for visits and
Christmases. They didn't just vanish from existence."

She put Mulder's watch into her handbag and stood up with
finality. "Goodbye, Miss Scully." She walked away.




With her surrogate cloth cross, Dana went back to Skyland
Mountain, right to the top, and stared at the moon. Was
he staring at the same moon? God help them, was he ON the
moon?

/Any more buoyant...I think we're back, Scully.../


END PART ONE OF TWO


"Why Her, Why Not Me?" (2/2) 
<kristena@ocean.com.au>

XxX

Agent Dana Scully walked back into the office of the X-
Files Division. The interior was shrouded in plastic
covers. She put down the large internal envelope she was
carrying and ripped the sheets away, exposing his desk,
exposing the filing cabinets. Reopening the section. It
should have been so satisfying.

/He should be here. He should be doing this. We have the
X-Files back, Mulder. When will we have YOU back?/

Mechanically she took down the swimsuit calendar pinned
near his desk and flipped the pages over to the correct
month. She remembered Mulder asking her back in January
if she found it offensive. She had replied that she would
find herself a calendar full of siliconed men for her
bulletin board. /Never got around to it. Now I just want
the one tall, thin man.../

Scully pulled the folder out of the internal envelope.
The X-file case she had begun putting together even
before Skinner reopened the section.

"MULDER, FOX WILLIAM".

She flicked briefly through the contents. Then she opened
the "M" drawer of the cabinets and filed it away. She
would be back for it soon. The thick sheaf of pages was
showing signs of wear already. Constant handling. She
reached back into the envelope and brought out his ID and
glasses. He hardly ever wore those glasses. /Pity. They
made him look so.../ How could she have told him? On the
upside, he would undoubtably have worn them more often...

She didn't want to file the ID wallet. She had been
carrying it around too after it was located in front of
Mulder's apartment building, but she would have to make
do with his tie after accidentally pulling his badge out
on someone a few days ago to ID herself. The startled man
had politely enquired whether she'd had a sex-change
operation. So, reluctantly, it went into an evidence bag
with the glasses and was put in with the file.




Lack of sleep. No more psychic dreams.

Turning events over and over and over.

Becoming more and more certain that Barry had been a
puppet, the fall-guy.

Delivering pleas and threats. More doors shutting in her
face than opening.

Staring across at an empty desk.

Wondering what they were doing to Mulder.

Always alert for a hint of cigarette smoke.

Saving her energies for work. Trying to work exclusively
on Mulder's file for as long as she could get away with
it.

Wandering along his jogging route every few days and not
knowing why.

Missy phoning up and telling her to not give up hope
because she 'had a feeling'. *Give me facts!* Scully
wanted to scream at her. *Give me something solid I can
use!*




Scully's dining table and coffee table were covered with
the contents of his file. She lay on the sofa, deep in
consideration. /When should I give up? I've done
everything I can think of... I've never pursued a case
this far before. Why can't I accept the logical
conclusion? When should I assume he's dead and give up
and get on with my life? There is a time to step forward
and not stay stuck. Like when Ahab died...but with him
there *was* a body...and I can't just give up. The other
time Mulder was kidnapped, Deep Throat said they wouldn't
kill him. 'Too high profile'./

Thoughts whirled, but her decision was made. She was
considering which lead to go back over for the umpteenth
time, as well as thinking about her current case, trying
to be both believer and skeptic...when the phone rang.




Georgetown Hospital:

Scully stared down at the pale figure on the bed. He had
a beard. A full beard that looked like it hadn't been
trimmed once in all the time he'd been gone - she
couldn't tell what the moustache looked like because the
tape for the intubation tube was in the way. She wanted
to let out an insane giggle. She'd occasionally wondered
what Mulder would look like with a beard. But a more
trimmed, sleek one...

It was HIM!

Buried under all the tubes...

On a respirator. In a coma. The monitor readouts made her
sick to her heart, killing her joy.

"Mulder?" she whispered, reaching out to touch his arm.

"The only indication of awareness we have is his right
hand."

Scully stared at the doctor.

"That is to say, somehow his hand is in spasm - in a fist
- and we can't unlock it. We can't figure out why; he's
non-responsive to everything else. Yet it appears he has
a death grip -" He gave an apologetic look at his choice
of words. "- on something. We can't get his fingers open,
but you can just see a bit of gold chain."

"My cross!" Scully gasped.

That gave her comfort. At some level Mulder was there.
She vowed then that if he did loosen his grip, she would
put the necklace around his wrist like a bracelet or hang
it on the bed. Or around his neck - providing it didn't
interfere with the tubing.

"How did he get here?" she asked softly.

The staff confessed their ignorance. He had appeared two
hours ago out of the back of an ambulance at the ER
entrance, in respiratory arrest, on an ambu-bag. One of
the EMTs gave Mulder's name and occupation, but then
disappeared, as did the ambulance. Scully wanted to yell
and rage, but kept it inside.

"What's his prognosis?"

Dr Daly gave her apologetic look. "I know you're a doctor
and were his partner, but in this case we'll have to wait
until his parents arrive to go over that. They're coming
separately from Rhode Island."

That did not sound in the least bit promising. Scully
kept her hands clasped over Mulder's fist. She sat and
waited.




The staff had tried to open Mulder's hand. They wanted to
splint it out into a position of function to prevent
contractures, and to clean his hand in case of infection.
But nothing they did worked and they certainly were not
going to risk breaking his fingers in the attempt. Mulder
still stubbornly clung onto the necklace. Scully felt
proud of him.

Two nurses came in with a little trolley. After
exchanging smiles with Scully, one asked, "Have you been
his partner long?"

"Yes, two years."

"We're going to retape the intubation tube now. It would
stick a lot better if he was clean-shaven. Has he always
had a beard? Would his family be upset if they saw him
without it?"

Scully realised what the nurse was actually asking, while
trying to frame it delicately. They hadn't shaved him in
the ER because he'd needed to be intubated right away. No
time for baby-smooth cheeks when you're turning blue.

But now... They would hesitate to shave a guy who always
wore a beard if they thought he was going to die. *Would
his family be upset if they saw him without it?*

Not only on the hospital bed, but in his coffin...

And the staff had most likely given up on opening
Mulder's hand for the same reason. Why go to such lengths
to prevent a yeast infection when...

Scully's mind refused to accept that prognosis. And her
eyes refused to accept the near-stranger on the bed for
another minute. "He doesn't wear a beard. He never does.
Shave it off."




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


He floated in a starfield.

There was the Earth before him, like races of old
pictured it. Flat, brief, with distinct edges you could
fall off. But the middle was solid, a plateau hovering in
space and time.

Scully stood in the centre of the world. Her feet were
firmly on the ground. She was watching him. He watched
her.

He was orbiting the world, sitting cross-legged on an
asteroid. It was just inside the grip and influence of
the Earth's atmosphere, but still on the boundary edge.
So close to the cold and black void of Space.


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




Mulder didn't have a living will. His parents were making
the decision.

The doctors could not explain what was causing his
condition. Apart from his hand clutching the cross, there
was unawareness of self and environment. No language
comprehension. No voluntary responses to extreme stimuli.
No acute injuries, traumatic or non-traumatic. No
degenerative or metabolic disorders.

His fist was the only spark of light. And that was not
enough for his parents.

His outcome seemed hopeless, so they were going to let
him go. Dana pleaded with them to let her have more time,
explaining that she was pouring over options and making
new avenues when blocked, to try to research and find
just what could cure her partner. There had to be a way.

They refused. Their second child had been lost, then
found, only to be lost again. They said they were in too
much pain to let it stretch out any longer.

Or in too much denial. Scully suspected that Mr Mulder
knew more than he was saying. His behaviour seemed all
wrong for a father who should be upset about his son's
condition. Men of his era tended to hold things in, but
this was...indifference? /As if he had expected this
outcome. Or has he been so hardened by losing Samantha?
Did he even call when Mulder took that bullet in the leg?
Or did I miss it in my grieving over Ahab?/

Mrs Mulder couldn't stand to be near her ex-husband. But
at one time they did end up in Mulder's hospital room
together - Scully had stepped out to give them some
privacy, and she overheard...

"You expect me to lose Fox too?"

"It's not like you've oozed motherly love for the last
twenty years, Tena, is it? The plan is set; we can't stop
it. Don't you think I would have prevented it back then
if I could? This is the only way there is a chance."

"There's nothing, you foolish man. Nothing!"

Before Scully could hear more or confront them, she was
paged for a phone call with Danny, who was helping her
gather medical research info, as were the Gunmen. She
decided to get the Gunmen to dig up anything they could
on Mulder's father, especially his past in the State
Department. When she finally got off of the telephone,
she found that Bill Mulder had made Daly turn the
respirator off two hours earlier than the time Scully had
been told. An event she had hoped to prevent.

Her collected rage surfaced in full. Scully stood and
screamed at Mulder's father. "HOW COULD YOU? You know
something, don't you? You're covering their tracks,
saving yourself over your own son's life! What could be
worth that? Both your children! I'll do anything to make
sure that you -"

He watched her outburst without expression. /Like the
Cigarette Smoking Man./ She kept yelling at him as
security dragged her away.




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


The asteroid skirted, beginning to pull away from tracing
the planet's atmosphere like a lover's cheek. Its old
lover, Space, was reclaiming it.

Mulder sat, impassive, and watched the Earth receding.
His hold on it had always been tenuous at best.


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




Scully kept a vigil by his side. His parents had not come
back. Mulder's breathing was being helped by an oxygen
cannula, but soon his body would inevitably stop
breathing, stop pumping blood, and the staff would let
him go. Regardless, Scully knew that when the time came,
she would leap onto the bed and try CPR until carried
away.

His grip on the cross seemed to be loosening too.

Those were the facts. A heartbreaking lot. But Scully had
a feeling and wouldn't let science bury it.

She held his hand again. "Mulder, you have so much to do.
The X-Files are reopened. You have to find your sister -"
/And please don't have found her in the afterlife!/ "It's
not your time. It would be easy to give up, but since
when have you ever been easy or taken the path of least
resistance? It's not in your nature. You have the
strength of your beliefs. Come back and prove them to
me."




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


The Earth was barely a memory. What was it compared to
Space?

Yet the memory persisted.

He wondered. Then he saw.

There was a golden thread in his hand, leading away,
leading back to that place. It was one end, broken, yet
complete, because out there somewhere was the sign of her
faith, and beyond that, at the other end, she waited.

The means to return.

But was there the desire to use it? To try?

So thin.

Every lifeline had a limit, and this one was reaching
that point. It had stretched even further than possible,
and now the final links were sliding across his palm,
over and up his fingers to the tips.

Away. Ready to fall off into infinity.


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




Scully had passed out from exhaustion and stress on the
floor beside Mulder's bed, and Skinner called her mother
to take her home for a break. Dana had been too dazed to
try to explain that Mulder could die at any time, that
she needed to be there; her body had just let itself be
guided like a lamb, her tongue unable to function.

She barely had the energy to cry into her mother's
shoulder.




The fist was only a loose curl of fingers, slack. The
nurse could see the chain clearly. She looked at the
monitors. Any minute now... She touched the hand,
wondering if she should clean it or wait until the
patient was dead. She was young and unsure of the
protocol in this type of situation. She chewed on her lip
and prodded gently at the chain, moving a loop slightly,
looking for signs of infection.

The fingers tightened. She jumped back.

And found the man staring up at her, blinking groggily.




The phone rang. Maggie answered then passed it to her
daughter solemnly. "It's Mrs Mulder..."

Scully took it. She knew what was about to come. He'd
died because she wasn't there.

"He's awake," Tena Mulder said.

"W-what?"

"He's awake."

Scully's hand automatically went to the spot on her neck
where her cross used to rest. "Is he - I mean, does he
recognise...?"

"He asked for you." Mrs Mulder sounded detached, as if
she didn't dare believe it, or that she was in shock.
Then she said bitterly, "He came back, but Sammy didn't.
He didn't bring his sister back."




Mulder had been moved to a private room. Hesitantly
Scully knocked, then entered.

Mrs Mulder was perched on a chair about a metre from the
bed. She smiled stiffly. "Hello, Dana."

"Not Dana, Mom..." came the amused whisper, "Scully." His
pale face turned slowly towards her and she could see the
mischief and warmth in his opening eyes.

To hear his voice. To see those hazel eyes again.

Now Scully approached the hospital bed. She was vaguely
aware of Mrs Mulder going out and leaving them alone.
There was no sign of Bill Mulder. The Gunmen had found
generic facts on the man and quite a few dead ends that
promised much beyond - but hadn't been able to break
through yet. Scully was amazed that Mrs Mulder had been
in the room at all. /Appearance's sake?/ She probably did
love her son, but whatever her husband had done in the
past had burnt them, twisted them beyond recognition as a
family - damaged her too many times and she was afraid to
show her affection.

"How do you feel?" Scully asked, coming right up to the
bed and taking her partner's hand. The question was
inadequate. She could barely trust herself to speak.
Emotion was brimming over in her. If she stayed too long
she would lose it completely.

There was relief there and suddenly despair as he focused
fully on her. "Scully...I don't remember anything...after
Duane Barry -"

"It doesn't matter."

He nodded. He looked exhausted.

"I brought you something -" She pulled a video out of a
plastic bag and suppressed a wicked grin as his eyes lit
up. "- Moby Dick. Gregory Peck version."

"I knew there was a reason to live." He chuckled. She
knew he was delighted even though it didn't run to his
usual tastes.

"Anyway, I just came by to see how you were doing and to
say hi." She was aware she was rambling a bit and there
was so much she wanted to tell him, how she had missed
him so much that the feelings had surpassed anything she
had ever experienced, and how terrified she had been for
him, but she had to leave before she broke down. It was
too much to think of now. He was back and alive. That was
the main thing. She squeezed his hand and let go. "You
get some rest."

"Scully - I had the strength of your beliefs." He moved
his other hand across the sheets, still fisted. He opened
his fingers. There was no sign of infection. Just her
cross and necklace nestled in his palm

He held it out to her. She smiled and took it. The
necklace was unbroken. She put it back around her neck.

"Oh - I was holding this for you." She saw his blink of
surprise as she pulled his tie out of her pocket.

"I think I got the better end of the deal." Mulder gave a
grin that was 70% of normal, but there was a look in his
eyes, the realisation and wonder that she had kept his
tie for all that time, that she was carrying it now.

"The X-files are reopened, Mulder. Just waiting for you."

"Be there as soon as I can..."

"You looked strange with a beard," slipped out of her
mouth, appalling her - she knew he'd been told how long
he was missing, but it was still irresponsible of her to
reinforce it like that.

He was focused on something else though. "I'm so glad it
wasn't you. So glad..." He fell asleep.

Scully ran her hand through his hair and thought about
how she had scanned the implant, how she had been
carrying it. Guilt momentarily overrode her joy and
relief. It was the last flare of paranoid 'believer' in
her before she would step back into her science and let
Mulder resume his natural role. "It should have been..."


THE END (PART TWO OF TWO).